"Severus…please…"

I think those words will haunt my memory forever. They are seared into my being, a brand more painful and more hateful than the Dark Mark itself. When I lifted my wand and killed him, I branded myself with evil once and for all. I knew Harry Potter was in that room; I know the revulsion and hatred he feels for me is like nothing known to mankind. He hates me more than the Dark Lord. I am certain of that.

Really, I cannot blame him. In the same situation, I would loathe him, view him as my greatest enemy. He may be just a boy, but he is capable of the hatred of a man, and I must admit it sends a shiver of something akin to fear up my spine. I am not permitted hurt him, you see, but he does want to hurt me. He, however, is wrong in that wish. He does not understand.

I remember the conversation as if it had happened only moments ago, and Albus is still alive. But he is not and the conversation was several months ago. He and I were meeting in his office, as we always did. He sat there, half-moon spectacles dropped low on his nose and piercing blue eyes on mine. For a very long time, he did not speak. Then he shifted his weight forward, very slowly, staring straight at me.

"Severus, I have to ask you a favor, something deeply important," There had been a catch in his voice, a strange twinge of emotion, that made worry clench in my chest, constricting my lungs momentarily.

"You know I will do whatever you ask of me, Albus," I answered firmly, wanting to stanch that twisting emotion I had heard in his voice. While he had not sounded uncertain, there had been a strange hesitation to his tone that I was unaccustomed to. "Just say the word,"

"I need you to promise me that if it comes down to exposing yourself as part of the Order or killing me, you will kill me," There is nothing in the world that Albus Dumbledore could have said to shock me more. I usually think of myself as a stoic man, but my jaw dropped and I gaped at him. "Severus, I need you to promise,"

"Sir, I could never…" He interrupted me, coolly raising one hand.

"I am old, Severus. No longer strong enough to fight all the battles this war will demand of people. I will die anyway; if not at your hands, then at someone else's. Perhaps what I am asking you to promise will be unnecessary, but I doubt it. Voldemort plans my death because he feels it will weaken us. He has lost sight of reality. I am weak already, old and feeble. You are so important to our side; you cannot let the hope you provide the Order die for me," his reserve was so strong that to hear him refer to himself as feeble was almost laughable. I did not laugh, though. "Promise me, Severus,"

"Albus…"

"Severus," he cut me off again, smooth and assured. His eyes bored down on me. He was not going to let me off the hook for this.

I turned away; I could not look at him as I replied weakly, dark eyes drooping shut, "If it ever comes to that, Albus, then I promise, I will do what you have asked,"

For several months, I had let the promise slip from my mind. It still lurked in the shadows of my thoughts, but I was able to push it from my conscious mind. Then Narcissa came to me. I made the Unbreakable Vow to her because I had no choice; what else could I have said but of course, after the promise I had made to Albus?

Still, that night when I had to do the unforgivable, I raced up the stairs, certain I would find Albus warding them all off, protecting Harry valiantly, winning as always. Instead he was lying supine on the floor, staring into the wand of Draco Malfoy. His eyes met mine, and he called out, "Severus…"

He was pleading. Everyone could hear that, but only I knew what he was really pleading with me. He saw my weakening resolve, saw that I did not have the strength to commit this murder. There were tears biting at my eyes, but I hid them well.

"Severus…please…" He pleaded again, eyes meeting my. There was desperation in them. His eyes begged me, It is right, Severus. Lose one to save many in the end. Please.

I could not break a promise to Albus.

Some of the Death Eaters told me afterwards that they had never seen so much revulsion and hatred before as they had on my face in the moment before I said those dreaded words. "You must have really hated Dumbledore, Snape, I mean, seriously hated him. I've never seen someone look so disgusted by another person before," one of them had told me.

Of course, they were wrong.

Minerva knows now that I had to do what I did. I let her administer Veritaesum to me; I wanted her to know the truth. She gets information from me, but she says she will not try to convince the others. They cannot forgive what I did, and I can understand that. How could they be expected to understand and then forgive what was done? In reversed roles, I would not have been able to forgive them.

Someday, though, when this war is over, I will go back to Hogwarts. I slip down the grassy knolls of the grounds and arrive at the white tomb. I do not know what I will say when I get there. I do not know if I will apologize or just speak to him, but I will go to his grave and pay my respects. While I am there, perhaps I will pay my respects to Lily and James and even to Sirius. They all died fighting the good fight, didn't they? I cannot feel enmity towards any of them any longer.

We have come beyond petty relationships and silly quarrels; the battle commences, a time where good and evil, darkness and light, are colliding, crashing, and annihilating in an attempt for power. I am hung between them, suspended by delicate threads. Sometimes, I feel like it is not worth it. I feel like running away from both sides and being nothing. I know that I cannot do that, but still, at the worst moments, when my guilt is eating me alive and my heart feels withered and black, I wish that I could.

Someday, I hope my colleagues, my students, my companions, will know the truth and will find it in them to forgive me. They say the truth shall set you free; I say, well, I just say we'll see.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: If you have read this, I love you. Often my one-shots are ignored. This is my real theory/hope for the books. I refuse, somehow, to believe that Snape is truly evil. Something about him just isn't…or maybe that's just wishful thinking. Any-who, I would deeply appreciate a review if you read my fic!