Severus Snape had absolutely no idea why the house had felt magically stranger than before. He could sense something odd about it, and it wasn't the unsacrificial dark protections he put up. Not only that, but Sempreverde refused to get any closer to Spinner's End.

Someone put up a magical alarm, because there was a small white sign at the bottom of his door. Severus stepped back on the light snow, wishing not to be cursed or infected by whatever had been placed. He quickly performed a useful detection spell, and it informed him that whoever did it had already been here before.

Severus thought it was either Lucius or Rodolphus, because both of them had been there often, with Narcissa and Rabastan very occasionally, but the latter weren't selected to do such things. Narcissa was not even a deatheater.

The detection spell had also detected that whatever had been done was activated recently and placed a few days ago. He knew it must've been during or shortly before his...task. But there was one thing he was certain of. He'd failed his task and the deatheaters were no doubt ordered to capture him.

Severus sighed, but he knew there was nothing indispensable in the house. All of his potion recipes, whether dark or of his production, he memorized and proceeded by burning them. There was not a single vial of any potion but known solutions and a few draughts. Then Severus remebered something.

The photo album!

He bolted and broke a window with a simple Reducto and then ran inside a small, dust covered room. On a shelf sat a few books and the album, which he took briskly before rushing out of the house with a rapidity that saved him from the flames that grew inside.

He heard the sound of footsteps and whispers on the snow, and he held his raven and apparated without another second wasted. He found himself in Diagon Alley, where he removed any magic that might've latched on to him before apparating once again.

Severus had no idea what brought him to ever think of apparating to a worn down muggle motel, but if the deatheaters and whoever he heard were after him, then they would never think twice about a deatheater being at muggle location. He opened the door and stepped into an orange lighted room. The walls were a disgusting peachy color and on the right side of the room was a long brown desk, and sitting at it was an aged woman with disapproving eyes, almost like his mother's, an angular face, crumpled wrinkles, and a permanent frown.

He approached her. "Hello. Can I stay here for a night or two?"

She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. He already hated her, and even more her resemblance personality wise to his mother. "Pay first, boy."

He immedietly paid her with muggle money he transferred the day after slipping the antitode in the chocolates. He stayed silent as she handed the keys over and informed him the number of the room, 130. He mounted the stairs with Sempreverde flying behind him, and then he quickly closed the door in the fear of being too recognizable.

Severus did not bring any clothes, other than what he was wearing. He took off his coat, the wind whipping through the trees, creaking and groaning like an old rocking chair. Under it were his robes, and in it's pockets were a photo album, a feather, and black gloves.

Sempreverde flew out the window, but Severus knew he was still hovering near by, enjoying being free in winds that never seemed harsh to the raven. Excitement never approached Severus, albeit getting easily attracted to his intelligent raven — usually, the majority of people never noticed his raven. It clearly was not the case for emotions, invisible things with minds of their own, effected by each other but not by any other kind.

Severus pulled out the small, mainly empty photo album and flipped to the first page after sitting down on the white covered bed.. It had two pictures at Severus's and Lily's old spot in 1969. In one of the photos, there was enormous, young tree, and he remembered very well he had used magic intentionally yet accidentally, as he wasn't expecting to work. He made a branch fall on Petunia, Lily's older, horse-like sister. The page next to it held another picture, one of Lily's favorites, as they had gotten their Hogwarts letters. She looked childishly happy, and warmth momenterily danced around the room.

After that, there were only six photoful pages, and under each one of them was a date written in his previous, small, cramped hnadwriting. The seventh page held a single photo, one taken during the summer before the fifth year. The Severus in the picture was frowning carelessly with a dark colored book in his hands. Lily looked more matured than in the last photos. Overwhelming desire was quickly replaced with familiar yet still terrible guilt.

Severus wished there were more recent pictures as regret joined it's friend in intruding the room, permissionless as always. He closed the album and put it on the dark brown quite collapsable nightstand before ushering Sempreverde inside, the patience growing rather thin with his unfortunately stubborn raven.

Then Severus Snape layed in bed until sleep breezed in, soundlessly and insensibly closng his eyes, depriving him of sight but sparing him of emotion's wrath.

—

Author's Note: This chapter was short and tedious, I know. I promise the next chapter will be more unexpectant. I'm in need of ideas for A Chance For Both, but expect an update next week or less, hopefully. Also, since I'm still a student I won't be posting regularly, but expect a chapter or so every week on one of my stories.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm eternally grateful for everyone, especially those who made this fanfiction a favorite!