A/N: SPOV
A/N #2: Sorry, I mislabeled a chapter! Go back and read the last chapter, there shouldn't be two SPOV's in a row!
Severus was in his laboratory, lost in thought as he was slicing the aconite for the potion that he wasn't having to make for Lupin this month. It became a second nature to him; as if a part of his ritual.
He was used to being haunted by the memories of his past. Usually he was remembering his vain attempts at apologizing for calling Lily a mudblood. Instead, his mind was reflecting on Albus' latest task for him.
"You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?"
In that one sentence, he knew that Albus didn't care that he was going to die. Severus had felt this way for so long, yet it was never a... conversation piece.
And yet, Severus couldn't shake the disgust that he felt when Albus complimented him, considering what his task would be.
"I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus."
Damn that bastard to Hades, Severus swore as he stored the aconite in an airtight, opaque glass jar. He remembered the next part of the conversation, since it was dictating his slow eventual progression to the gallows.
"Are you intending to let him kill you?" Severus asked sardonically.
"Certainly not. You must kill me."
Severus' pause was out of shock. Only the sound of Albus' phoenix gnawing broke the silence, the odd clicking was almost like a grandfather clock's pendulum swaying to and fro.
"Would you like me to do it now? Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"
Severus' sarcasm was his only outlet for his rage, and Albus smiled at the dark humor between the two. How can he ask this of me?
But Albus made his point; he was slowly dying and still was able to joke about the Chudley Cannons. He was right, a quick and painless death would be better than... Bellatrix's penchant for vorarephilia. She was the reason that The Dark Lord's followers were called 'Death Eaters', after she impressed him at their earliest Dark Revels.
He stared at the half-completed potion in the cauldron, his stirring rod clanking as the momentum of the potion dragged it clockwise. The fumes never bothered him, and yet it must be what was making his eyes water.
Severus was lost in the moment, knowing how everyone he was... colleagues with... would ultimately loathe and wish to kill him. That his honor and standing within the Wizarding world were to be sacrificed on the altar of 'the greater good'.
He had forgotten about the time as he remained in his laboratory, sullenly pitying himself since nobody alive would soon understand why he would betray the Order of the Phoenix.