This is written with the opposite feeling of the first fic I wrote post Half-Blood Prince (in the first chapter of this fic). It's for my friend Luc and all of those who think the man is evil. It was hard to make it make sense, because it doesn't to me, but I tried.
People will cower in fear as we cross paths. People will rue the day they crossed Severus Snape. Finally, I will have the glory I deserve. I will live on in infamy. Killing the second greatest wizard of our time with a flick of my wrist, like he was nothing… He, reduced to begging for his pathetic life. He who used to say death was a great adventure, begging me in front of Death Eaters and a werewolf like I could actually do something, even if I was on his side. That was worth the years and years and years I have worked under him, been trusted by him, been thought of as loyal. It makes me sick, and if he hadn't been such a fool he would have seen that I am not that good an actor. I could barely hide my contempt from the lot of them.
I will never again have to teach filthy, unworthy adolescents who have no respect for authority. Albus Dumbledore is dead. Draco Malfoy will probably be tortured a bit before he dies. It'll be fun to see the mama's boy cry. I like it when they cry, knocks down their inflated sense of self worth. He has to learn that crying can only lead to nicknames like Snivellus just as trying to fit in with badasses like Death Eaters can only lead to a mark on your arm.
The boy's mind is wide open. He wonders how things are going to go. He wonders if I'll protect him. He wonders if the Dark Lord will be so happy to be rid of Dumbledore that he'll have mercy. But the Dark Lord has never known happiness or mercy.
Slytherin's protect only themselves. Look out only for themselves. If he thinks all the years I was his Head of House mean anything he's severely deluded. The parents would keep my informed, send me money, potions ingredients in exchange for favourable treatment for the miscreants they called children and I complied, only because it was convenient for me. The Dark Lord will know that the little dragon failed. The Dark Lord will know that I didn't, and I'll get a nice reward, unless he feels threatened. Maybe he's lock me in a room with 'Cissa for awhile. The woman will surely be needing 'comfort', what with her husband in prison and her son in such a precarious position…
Of course, the killer of Dumbledore, no matter how intimidating, cannot go out into the streets until the war is out in the open. No doubt I'll be brewing up potions for the war and teaching the dark arts to the pureblood children who manage to survive their initiation. Purebloods like the Crabbs and the Goyles and the Parkinsons, although Pansy will probably end up as a party favor. No. I don't care about purebloods. That simpering idiot Regulus and that arrogant thug who had the nerve to call himself 'good' were both Blacks. Those disgusting Weaseleys are purebloods. It wasn't a pureblood that killed that sap Dumbledore like he was nothing…
It wasn't a pureblood who became the most feared dark wizard of all time. It wasn't a pureblood baby who had stopped him.
Harry Potter, a stupid, emotional boy with a brain the size of a gnat would surely fall in the next battle. Luck, potion or no, couldn't protect him against the fiercest Wizards in all of their world. Friends or no, Snape himself had just cut the heart out of the Order of the Pheonix. Love will not be enough. Chaos will reign. Muggles will die, blood-traitors and unworthy mudbloods along with them. Screams will once again resound through the night. I'll survive, of course, because I'm smarter than all of them. I'll survive and my meaningless, empty and unhappy life will go on.
FIN