This just hit me...had to write it.

One shot post HBP! Snape's POV..more like senseless ramble...

S
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A
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I wonder now what I was thinking, Albus.

I want to cry, you know. Just cry for once in my adulthood. And it would be well worth the

shame of such a thing, because I'd cry for you. For the unfairness ( yes, I am complaining

about life, which is inheritantly unfair.) of the situation, the horror in Draco's eyes when he

looks at me, and even for the sheer and shattering anguish in Potter's voice...in his tear-

stained face. Because you did to him what you did to me.

You asked the impossible. Not the impossible to do; the impossible to deal with. For

I could, and did, do anything you asked of me. I'd done it before, and I knew the moment

I made the Vow I'd do it again. But I hope, perhaps, that you would let me folloe MY plan.

But no, you wouldn't let me die. I'm far too valuble to the Order, to Potter's destiny, to die

betraying the Dark Lord.

And now Draco and I, outcasts from the wizarding world, are stuck together and the

child doesn't trust me. He himself could never have killed you- a part of him even might

have respected you- and see's me now as the evil one...he thinks I'm truely loyal to

the wretched fool...a slave to the Dark Lord.It will be days before I bring him fully to the

light...I might be forced to hope beyond hope that Potter is indeed your protege, your

sucessor, and that he will extend your offer to Draco. We will see, for now I will have

to send him to the Order HQ after Potter's time at those vile muggle's home is done

with for the last time.

And this, old friend, brings me to Potter himself. I

I can recall once in my life I have heared such a heartbroken, anguished cry. It was

my seventeenth birthday...just before my last year, remember? And I watched as my

mother, who had shut me in the broom closet and placed a wandless spell- the very

same you used on Potter only a week ago--on me, was beaten to death by the foul

man I once called father. And when he was gone, I screamed like Potter screamed

after him, running down the lane. But you got there, and you held me while I cried,

and YOU brought justice to my loving, but oh so foolish mother.

And though I still think he's a brat, that he's the spitting image of his father in

both looks and mind, I cannot help but hate you on his behalf.

Who is going to hold Harry while he cries?

He's stubborn, independant, and determind to do as you asked, to finish what

you began this year. But he's going to miss you, to wish he'd said " I love you"

just once, to want to ask you something only to remember you are dead and

gone. No one, Albus, no one but me to tell him how much you loved him, how

many times I could see ( with no small amount of jealousy, I will freely admit-

you never looked at me with such pride) in your eyes that feeling. And he will most

likely kill me before he lets me tell him...I don't know.

But damn you for thinking he'd be fine, that I would be fine. Damn you Albus,

for not realizing all of us who cry still, after a week. For me, for Potter and Granger

and the Weasleys ( pick one). And, god damn you Albus- your WIFE. Your Wife

who no one will give the proper comfort too because only I know ( quite by accident

though it was - I still cant look Minerva in the eye without going red...you and she

never did think one was too old for a good snog). And she too would most likely

hex me before I got the words out.

What the bloody hell was I thinking? How could the war be worth more to me

that the father of, not my blood, but my heart and mind?

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Like I said...no idea where that came from..XD