A/N: This story has been in the works for a very long time. It needed much deliberation, because it's being written in a mildly artistic way (mildly) and I would probably destroy something if it turned into a Mary Sue (shudders). Anyway, this is only the prologue and it's maddeningly uninformative, but that's my way of hooking readers.

Enjoy!

Diclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape or the concept of Voldemort or the Dark Mark. Be nice and don't sue.

Broken Mirrors

Prologue

Love is not a victory march,

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

-'Hallelujah', Rufus Waintright

The sun had nearly set, and its dying rays cast an ethereal glow upon the glade. Its light made the leaves and blossoms on the trees seem to shine almost like jewels. The surrounding woods were quiet, the serene silence punctuated with only the occasional chitter of a squirrel or the swish of wind passing through branches.

In the centre of it all was a statue.

The stone figure was female shaped and was exquisitely carved from marble. She was obviously a faerie, judging by the pointed ears and sharp facial features. Not to mention the graceful pair of wings sprouting from her shoulders.

She was kneeling, though her posture was straight-backed and proud. Her head was held high and her eyes, though stone, still seemed bright and alert. Whatever artist had carved her must have known her very well. They had captured her expression perfectly. Her eyes held their unfathomable cunning and wisdom, yet her mouth was shaped in an amused and sardonic grin. The slight upward tilt of her head perfectly captured her pride and silent strength.

Severus Snape's fingers traced the letters carved at the statue's base. Phoenyx. There was no last name, no dates, but it was obvious what the statue's purpose was. It was a memorial.

Snape looked up into the stone faerie's face. Her eyes seemed to knowingly stare back at him.

"Well," he said hesitantly, at last, "I'm here."

The statue said nothing. That was alright. He didn't particularly expect it to.

Snape seemed uncomfortable. Phoenyx was as difficult to talk to dead, as she had been in life. Somehow, nothing felt like the right thing to say in her presence.

"I suppose," Snape said slowly, "I should have come here earlier…Though, knowing you, you most likely don't care. You never quite returned my affection, did you?" He paused, trying to plan his next words. "I could lie to you. I could tell you that I've missed you everyday and that I was too busy to pay my respects." He smiled mirthlessly. "But you'd see through that, you always could."

"Normally, I try not to think about you. I'm sure you know the reasons for that. I don't enjoy dwelling on the past. For the past decade and a half, I've completely avoided all thoughts of you…but…Once again, it seems that history is repeating itself." Snape grimaced, "I can't help dredging up old memories."

He hesitated, searching for words. As he did so, he studied the memorial again. It must have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that her eyes looked…expectant.

"There are times," Snape spoke carefully, unused to telling anyone-let alone a statue-what his thought were, "There are times when I wish that…you were still here. Or, that I could have been there…at the end."

"For a long time, I blamed you for everything. If you were here you would probably call me a 'foolish irresponsible human' but it seemed like all my problems were somehow related to you."

"Now, though, I know that I would have joined the Dark Lord with or without you. So, I'm not here to forgive you. Nor am I here to say that I was wrong and I'm sorry." Snape's voice took on a derisive edge at these last few words. "I'm here to tell you that I finally…fully understand you."

His hand went subconsciously to his left arm. He rubbed it a little and glanced to the statue's. To his surprise, the artist had thought to add a faint Dark Mark to it. To counter it, on her other arm was a tattoo depicting a flying raven carrying a sword in its claws. The mark of the V'iirythir's.

Snape glanced at both the marks and then looked back into her proud, knowing face.

"Goodbye, Nyx. I wish you all the best."

With that, he rose, and left the tranquil glade, and the past, behind him.

He did, however, look back once. And all the memories flooded back.

It's not a cry you can hear at night

It's not somebody that's seen the light

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

-'Hallelujah'

A/N: This WILL be continued-and very soon I hope. This whole story is going to be one big flashback, and don't worry, you will find out what a 'V'iirythir' is and, of course, who exactly Phoenyx is. That's the whole point of this fic! Please enjoy! And don't forget, all reviews are appreciated.