Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Well, here's the last chapter, after a very long wait. Sorry about that, but many things got in the way. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Your kind words mean a lot to me. I will reply to everyone who logged in, hopefully today or tomorrow.
This chapter is dedicated to a certain friend of mine…you know who you are…I hope you enjoy!

Warning: There is a mild bit of swearing in this chapter. It's really very little (just one word in fact), but if that sort of thing offends you, please read with caution.

Chapter 4 – Burden of Sin

Nights had fallen on the grounds around Hogwarts. The swift bustle of the day had given in to the unbroken peace of the night. The castle stood dark and silent, its occupants long since having surrendered to sleep and dreams. Well…most of them anyway.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth in a small room next to the dungeons, the only source of light in the room. The leaping flames faintly outlined the figure of a man, sitting in a deep armchair near the fireplace. He had been sitting there for quite some time now, unmoving, dark onyx eyes staring deep into the flames as if trying to unearth some mystery hidden within. In his hand he clutched a half-full glass of wine, his occasional sips the only other sound to disturb the silence that lay heavy in the air.

Despite the lateness of the night, Severus Snape had yet no desire to seek out his bed. His calm and relaxed posture belied the chaotic tumult of thoughts going on inside his head that would not allow him any rest.

Shifting slightly in his seat, Severus winced as the small movement renewed the ache in his body. Sighing, he once again settled back into the cushions. "More wine" he thought to himself, and as if to prove his point he took another deep sip from the glass in his hand, which magically refilled itself again. He was not a frequent drinker, but on some nights like this when everything became too much, he craved the numbness of alcohol, to just be able to not feel. Judging by the still-present pains of his body he still had some way to go. The after-effects of the Cruciatus curse lingered for quite some time after the spell had actually been cast and to have suffered them so repeatedly as he had only made it worse.

And of course, there was still a long time to go. His thoughts drifted back to the earlier events of the evening, his mind replaying the scene for the millionth time. "When you make me scream" he heard himself saying over and over.

No matter how powerful the curse now was, Severus knew that it would still be some time before it would actually force a scream from him. No, he did not delude himself by thinking that he would never break - every man had a breaking point, he knew this better than anyone – but he also knew his own endurance. This coupled with his stubborn refusal to disgrace himself before anyone especially Potter meant that he would have to suffer through many more nights of torment before his will finally broke and he could be rid of this hell. For once in his life he actually cursed his strength for not letting him simply take the easy way out and get out of this sooner.

But it was not only the pain that bothered him tonight. Oh no, he was well enough used to pain by now.
Severus's thoughts swirled further into the past, to the early days of his childhood and even there he found only a well of despair. Images of his life came rushing at him fast and furious; the angry, red face of his father, the whistling crack of his belt, while his mother sobbed in the corner melded into the sneering, taunting face of Potter and Black as they tormented him in front of the whole school and that image gave way to a man with a flat, snake-like face with slitted holes for nose and cold red eyes holding up his wand and the sound of the cruel laughter that surrounded him as he writhed on the floor. The memories spun around him, the laughter, the faces, the pain, and it seemed that most of his life, indeed, had just been a constant string of agony and torment. Always, always more pain, more torment.

So the physical pain of his body was not the main concern on his mind. It never had been. What he hated the most was the humiliation and helplessness of his situation.

Every day it was harder to stand up in front of Potter, defenseless, to put himself at his- at anyone's- mercy knowing that he could do nothing to stop them from doing as they willed. He hated the sense of vulnerability and it infuriated him to have to hand over power and authority over himself to someone else. After all, throughout his youth he had always seen, experienced first-hand what a bad idea it was to have anyone more powerful than you around you, what they could do to you, with great pleasure no less. The very first lesson he had learned about life was that anyone who was stronger than you would take advantage of you, so you must not remain defenseless against them. He had spent years trying to erase that sense of defenselessness, developing his magical skills, putting his faith in knowledge learning all he could to make sure no one would ever hold power over him again. And he had succeeded hadn't he? At his schooling days in Hogwarts he had been doing spells, inventing spells that many adult wizards could not manage.. But it had made no difference. Even his belief in intellectual strength and knowledge had proven hollow. It was one of the great ironies the pervaded his life.

Now that he had the skill and the power to revenge himself on his tormentors, he no longer had the opppurtunity to do so. Even to this day he had to crawl to the Dark Lord, fawn at his feet, kiss his robes like some pathetic half-wit when his hands were itching to fight against him. He had to surrender himself to the whims and fancies of the Dark Lord, practically invite him to torture him, and force himself to stand defenseless and helpless in front of him - in short immerse himself in the very situation and emotions he had vowed to himself he would never again be in. It was like leading himself to the guillotine. And now this thing with Potter only added to his misery. Sure, he was a powerful wizard, he might even be one of the best duelists in the world as Dumbledore claimed, but he was still here getting tortured by a sixteen year old. Snape gave a bitter, self-mocking laugh. All those years trying to best Potter and his friends, constantly protecting himself from their pranks and spells and now he was standing in front of Potter's own son and asking him, no, forcing him to torture him. Life was a bastard wasn't it?

Definitely more wine needed.

And there was the other reason he hated this whole business, hated himself for doing it. If what he had said to Harry was true -and it was- if the Unforgivables were the greatest evil one could do, what did that say about him, to be knowingly leading another down that path of wickedness?

Teaching an innocent to kill. Teaching an innocent to cause pain. Another sin he could add to his head.

Thirteen years it had been since he had renounced that path himself, sworn that he would never again commit the deeds that were till now the greatest shame of his life. He had hoped at some level to redeem himself by returning to the 'good' side. But he had succeeded only in further blackening his own soul. Should it really matter by now? What was another dark mark on his by-now completely blackened soul?

The memories came back to him, and in this darkness of the night he had no shield against them. This was ever the time when they would attack him. They were too powerful, emotions that he had long hidden inside him overwhelming him with their intensity.

He saw once again in his mind's eye the images that he visited too frequently in his nightmares. He remembered the petulant face of the child with the sunken, dark-rimmed eyes, mop of greasy hair, pale complexion and the scowl that others would later say he had almost patented. A bitter and angry child, alone, frightened, hated by and hating everyone else in the world. His one desperate comfort was books, in his desolate solitude he had often sought the comfort of intellect and wisdom. Books were his friends, who would not desert him, knowledge his strength that would not fail him, his key to acceptance. Everyone would have to pay attention to him if he was smart and skillful. The young boy had absorbed all kinds of spells like a sponge, hungrily, often surpassing his peers in his work. His attention was ever drawn to the dark arts, the infinite well of spells constantly feeding his fire of learning. He was always looking for and devouring harder and harder spells. It was not much of a surprise that he had eventually stumbled across the Unforgivables, - and he was never the same since.

Snape could remember the first time he had cast an Unforgivable. It was everything he had described to Harry and more. It had seduced him on his first attempt, and ever since then he was drawn deeper and deeper into it, seeking and loving the ecstasy of raw strength. It had given the young, hurting boy everything he desired. It was his chance to repay all those who had wronged him, to show the world he was not a weakling to be made fun of and ridiculed, to for once be the one who was stronger.

The memories of his misguided teenage years crashed down upon him. Supporters of Voldemort were ever increasing in number, and it was by far the most popular career choice among the Slytherins. For the young Severus Snape, it had been the most exciting prospect he could have imagined. To serve under the most feared lord of the century, to gain the power and control that had so long being denied to him, to be given the chance to be the one holding the reins…it was a dream come true.

The older Severus Snape, let out a bitter snort of laughter at this recollection. A dream? More like a nightmare.

His first few months were indeed enjoyable. For the first time, he felt like he was wanted, that his skills were appreciated and his great talents put to use. He had risen through the ranks rapidly despite being so young, garnering praise even from the dark lord himself. It was most probably the best few months in his life.

"But I was blind then, blind to everything but the power" Snape thought to himself darkly.

He tried to recollect the exact moment when his eyes had opened, when he had seen the true nature of what he was doing, but could not. Perhaps it was the razing of the muggle village he used to live in as a child, perhaps the torture of that young girl with the bright blue eyes that had stared at him so pleadingly, or perhaps, perhaps it was the knowledge that she was to be the dark lord's next victim. To know that the bright spark of life in those startlingly green eyes was to be lost forever. Yes, that was probably what pulled him back. In a matter of days, his time of greatest pride was turned into one of greatest shame.

If Snape was thankful for one thing in his life, it was that he still had enough sense left inside him by then to recognize what he had done and turn away from the path when given the chance. He had found some speck of humanity that had not yet been destroyed by his black sins. He had gone then to Dumbledore to atone for his sins, and to this day was serving what he considered to be punishment for his wrongs.

But no matter what he did he could not consider his debts even the slightest bit fulfilled. He didn't think he could ever do enough to make up for his past actions. The faces, the eyes still haunted him. No amount of wine could drown them out. If they could he would have drunk himself senseless long ago. Even if he lived for all eternity, he would never be able to forget the screams of the innocent, the blood splattering his robes, the look in the eyes as life finally left them, the soft, warm body falling still and lifeless against his, the stench of death. Never, never for one moment had he forgiven himself for what he had done. Never had the screams let him forget.

But what shocked Severus even more was how hard pulling away was. His entire mind, body and soul were repulsed at the thought of ever doing those things anymore, but somewhere inside him some part of him still craved the feeling of the Unforgivables. It shamed him to admit it, but despite all that had happened he could not get rid of their addiction. He had managed it somehow but it was not easy. The trap they laid for you ensnared you for life. Even now whenever he recalled that moment of pure, simple, divine joy, his heart would quiver with desire, his hand itch towards his wand. He had not exaggerated their power to Harry.

Harry. That was where it all came back too. Despite all his qualms for these lessons, they were unavoidable. This was war after all, and as much as Snape might hate to be put in such a position, it was not meant to be clean or fair or nice. Harry had to learn to kill and that was all there was to it. And he had learned quite fast, Snape had to admit.

But the curse in itself was not the most important lesson. Anyone could learn it, given time. The most important lesson – and the hardest, he knew- was what they had discussed today. Not crossing that thin but vitally important line between good and evil. Once you had, it was a one-way road to destruction, there was no redemption, he knew that now, he was the living example of it now.

If only someone had told him all this when he was young. If only someone had cared enough to notice the way his disastrous steps were taking him, to stop him before he got too far, one less soul would have been lost. But he would not now rail at the world and at his fortunes. He had made his choices, however misguided, and he took the blame for them. He could not now change them, but he could make sure that another child was not lost to the darkness.

What mattered most to Severus was making sure that Harry did not go down the same way he did. He would be truly beyond redemption if he led another to the horrors of the path he had gone through. He had to teach Harry to kill but he would not teach him to be a murderer, he would teach Harry to defeat the Dark Lord, not become another in his place.

Perhaps than the burden of his sin could be lightened. Perhaps.

A/N: Well, that's it! It's the end. I know some of you were probably expecting a longer story with an actual plot, but I had always planned this as just a short one-off thing. I hope you enjoyed it in any case.

I'd love to hear what you thought about this chapter, because I had a hard time writing it. Thanks for reading!

Until next time,
fire-forged