Snape stared at the vials with narrowed eyes. He was very tempted to grab one and drink it in one swig, but he knew he couldn't do that. He had already taken three of them this week, while the maximum was two. If he swallowed another one, it could result in a very tedious addiction and he would grow dependent on them. The Potions Master would also become more resistant to the working of that potion. The dosage couldn't be increased because the current quantity was already bordering on a very fine line.

The cupboard was closed with a loud snap.

He had tried other methods of course, such as occluding his mind or relaxing and calming himself before retiring. When that didn't work, he stayed awake for days in a row. But all of them had failed, as he had suspected before he even started. And the wizard refused to use alcohol or another substance which affected his control and numbed his brains. He already felt humiliated enough.

There was, of course, one other, unexplored option, but the contemplating man would rather endure his nightmares than asking him for help. That solution would remain untouched at all costs.

Snape opened the door to his bedroom and peered at his bed. No, he would not sleep there tonight. He only lay down on the cushiony and comfortable mattress when he was under the influence of his Dreamless Sleep potion. He would wake up refreshed and strangely content with a fluffy pillow under his head and a thick and soft blanket wrapped around his slightly cold body.

But not tonight.

The standing wizard closed the door and searched for an appropriate furniture. He saw a hard, wooden chair on his left and frowned his eyes. That wouldn't do: he would get another sleepless night when he would sit on that uncomfortable chair. And not to mention a really aching body and touchy mood when morning arrived.

Turning his gaze to the rest of the room, he saw the couch in front of the fireplace. The couch was his only option now.

Snape sighed and walked to that furniture. He sat down and narrowed his eyes while he tested the couch. He pulled out his wand and transfigured the cushions into a slightly more uncomfortable material. Next, the seated wizard pointed it to the flaring flame and diminished it, together with the rest of the light, with a small flick of his wrist. He then lay his wand on the nearby table. It was not in his immediate reach, but he could swiftly grab it when needed.

The raven haired man rested the back of his head on the right armrest and guided his legs to the opposite side. He closed his eyes, but his mind instantly conjured images. Images he didn't want to see. He opened his eyes with a pained expression and brought a hand to his face. His breathing quickened while the memories were invading his sight.

Snape groaned and sat up while his other hand joined the first one. Pinching his eyes shut, he tried to occlude them. He partly succeeded and that was more than enough for him.

His body quickly resumed its previous position and he willed his mind to sleep. The lying man knew that he was making his dreams even worse by blocking everything partially. He was also very tired, and tiredness would certainly weaken the mind.

But, he really needed tonight's rest; tomorrow was the deadline for the potion that the Dark Lord asked him to brew. The Potions Master had already ruined a few batches and he needed at least a half day to complete that potion. He would need all his concentration, so he could not afford and would not endure another sleepless night.

He would have to face his dreams, like many times before.

Snape closed his eyes for the second time and willed himself to ignore and stop the oncoming images.

After a few moments, he felt a strangely calm sensation washing over his body and mind.

A cracking sound was heard somewhere below him. He opened his eyes and walked out of his room, but stopped moving when he heard two familiar voices arguing loudly. A hand banged on a table while he tiptoed to the stairs. The boy narrowed his eyes and tried to focus, but he couldn't pick up an audible word.

At that moment, he heard a slapping sound. He slowly lowered himself to the ground and closed his eyes, while he listened further.

He furrowed his eyebrows and moved his head a little.

He opened his eyes when he felt a teardrop on his cheek. He moved his head and stared at her crying and bruised face. "Mom?"

"Hush..." She caressed his right cheek and sniffled.

"Are you okay?" The lying boy sat up and looked at her with narrowed eyes. He saw her smiling, despite the pain.

"Of course, dear." He frowned and stared at the nasty mark on her face. She was about to stand up, but he stopped her by gently embracing her middle. She froze, but soon put her trembling arms around his little body. He whispered the next words softly.

"Don't lie..."

He heard a small chuckle and a wet kiss was planted on his forehead.

His mouth curled up at his naive mother.

"It's very easy, Severus." He stared at the middle aged wizard on the ground. "Let me demonstrate." The cruel voice muttered a spell and the man cried out. Loud.

Very loud.

The young wizard looked away and tried to focus on a small branch on the wet ground. The other lifted his spell and turned to him.

"You try now." He lifted his own wand, but halted when he saw dark brown eyes looking pleadingly and scared at him.

"Please..." He swallowed hard and his right hand began to shake.

"Severus?" The voice addressed him warningly, but also a little curiously and he knew that he must continue.

Snape broke eye contact.

"Crucio."

He could still remember the frightening screams and broken pleas of his very first victim, as if it had happened yesterday.

Snape lowered his wand when the man had lost his consciousness. "Very good, Severus." He didn't miss the proud and pleased qualities in his voice and instantly felt disgusted at himself.

The self-loathing came to surface and he grimaced heavily.

A second memory appeared.

"Imperio." The young witch stopped moving. He ordered her to walk to the living room and followed a few steps behind her. He saw a young man sitting on the couch and he whispered to her to knock him out.

They walked upstairs to the bedroom and she opened the second door on the left side. Inside were her parents and a little toddler. He ignored his feelings and thoughts and commanded her to strike them on their foreheads with a hard object. She took out a hidden knife and walked toward her sleeping family.

The young man closed his eyes behind his mask and tried to block out the surprised voices, the crying baby, the struggling sounds and the screams.

After a minute, the little child stopped his wailing and everything went quiet, except his own loud breathing.

The silent sounds caused him to groan and another memory entered his troubled, sleeping mind.

He stared at the slightly red object and dropped his school bag and trunk. The shocked boy smelled alcohol while he looked at his eyes. The drunken man smirked and staggered away to the stairs.

He ran to the kitchen and saw that the victim was clutching her hand with a bloodied cloth. She looked up in surprise when she heard a pair of footsteps. The standing boy looking with widened eyes at her wounded hand.

"Severus!" He ignored her surprised voice and walked to her. He tried to remove the hand that had clasped the material. At the same time, she moved her body away from him to obscure his view, but the nimble boy had already seen the wound.

"Mother..." She turned her head to her son when she heard the sad tone in his voice. He had balded his left fist and was looking at the direction of the stairs.

"I'll kill him..." The enraged son took a step away from her, but her voice stopped him.

"Don't." He turned to her with widened and shocked eyes.

"What?" She continued to gaze in his eyes. "How can you-" He paused a second to calm himself. "He hurts you. How can you stay with that... that... wild animal!"

He breathed heavily while he searched her eyes for an answer. But the woman only smiled sadly.

"He is your father, Severus."

Snape couldn't believe his ears... He couldn't believe how she could choose for that alien beast, and not his own son.

He stared at her like she was a mad woman. "Why?" He paused, but she remained silent.

Snape couldn't control his anger any more.

"Have you lost your mind?" The woman stood up and walked to him. His anger evaporated when he saw her mournful face. He touched her face and whispered in a pained voice.

"I... I refuse to wait until... until I find you one day...all alone...with no...no...heartbeat..." A tear left his cheek and fell on the ground. His mother raised her unwounded hand and dabbed his cheeks.

"My dear..." Her son embraced her gently, but firmly. He felt an arm half clasping his middle and heard a soft whisper in his ear after a few seconds.

"I will never leave you, my dear Severus."

He closed his eyes and held her tighter.

A few tears left his cheeks and he felt an unknown aura trying to soften his pain and calm his mind.

Another dream appeared.

"Very good job, Severus." He stared at the ground and remained silent, but heard that the other was circling him.

"But... there is a small problem." Snape swallowed and looked at the young, blank face. He tried to think of a plausible excuse to spare her life, but his mind was not working.

"No survivors are allowed." He closed his eyes and a pained expression was formed behind his mask. The Dark Lord circled him one more time and stopped in front of him. "So, she's all yours..."

The Death Eater exhaled a deep breathe while he opened his eyes. He took a small step toward the woman and pointed his wand to her. He swallowed soundly and tried not to listen to his feelings and emotions. He was about to whisper the Killing Curse, but a loud, speaking voice reached his ears and effectively stopped his impossible task.

Never in his life was he more grateful to the Aurors than that time and a very small smile was formed with his mouth.

A foreign sensation tried to block his next conjured dream.

The standing man stared at the familiar carpet and tried to tranquil his disquiet mind.

"How could you?" His voice sounded disturbed.

"This is how you repay me?" He swallowed and tried to reply, but his throat was shut.

"After all I have done for you?" The distressed wizard shifted his footing and opened his mouth, but the voice continued.

"How could you?" He quickly looked at the blue eyes.

"I already-"

"Spare me your excuses. You are only wasting my time." The voice sounded cold now.

"Please, listen to me! I-" The furious man didn't listen him.

"You make me sick." He felt that his heart was cracking, and an intense, mental pain was travelling to every part of his body. He tried one more time to plead.

"It's... it's not what-"

"Goodbye, Severus." The aged wizard turned his back toward him and stared at the window.

He had said his name with such revolt and hatred...

He felt the pain. He felt it very clearly and he grunted soundly.

"No..." He moved his body and wanted to stop the terrible burn.

The next dream was not real, but the pain was certainly reality.

Someone...

A hand was brought close to his forehead and someone muttered another sequence of foreign words. A wand was pointed between his eyes and the other closed his eyes again with a deep, almost frustrated sigh. The wizard frowned in intense concentration and tried again, this time with an even stronger spell.

He was... where was he?

He saw nothing. Everything was black around him. He could only see his own limbs.

Suddenly, the blinded man fell on a hard surface. He stood up and looked around, but something was wrong. Everything was blurred or distorted. The standing man tried to find something he could recognize, but everything was too unfocused or deformed.

A sudden scent from his childhood caught his attention.

Alcohol.

Snape turned his body toward the foul aroma and saw his father. But he looked different. The environment had deformed his body and face and he looked inhuman. Yet he could still see his devilish smile that he would use when he-

"Hello, boy..."

Suddenly, a small laugh, a familiar laugh, reached his ears and he turned his head to his left. The Dark Lord. He was less distorted than his previous visitor, but his legs had an abnormal long shape and his left arm was larger than the rest of his body.

"Finish your task, Severus."

Snape looked between the two of them, but a hand touched his left shoulder and forced his attention to the new presence. He gazed at a very familiar face.

At first glance, there was nothing wrong with his appearance. But, when Snape looked into his eyes, he saw that they hadn't the twinkling blue colour. He narrowed his gaze and noticed that they looked like his own pair of eyes.

"How could you?"

Snape widened his eyes when the three men repeated themselves. He wanted to move, but his legs were trapped. He looked around and saw that they were were nearing him.

"How is your... mother doing?"

"The Killing Curse will do."

"I gave everything for you."

Stop...

The three persons were circling him now and continued to speak. All his hidden and unseen feelings were returning to him; one by one.

And he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Is she...well?"

"Let me demonstrate it."

"And this is how you repay me?"

Please... someone...

He was being choked by the overwhelming sensations.

"Is she... rotting away?"

"Now you do it."

"I believed you..."

Help me...

He couldn't think any more... everything was going blank.

"Do you want to see her... mutilated body?"

"Kill them, all of them."

"I trusted you."

Albus...