Disclaimer: If I were J.K., Harry Potter would be Severus Snape, it would be marauder era (of course),and there would be way more angst.

WHEN THE STRONG BREAK by LunalitSol

"They say they don't know when, but a day is gonna come. When there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun. It will just go black. It will just go back to the way it was before."

~ Connor Oberst.

Prologue:

Severus Snape hadn't broken. He hadn't fallen. He had yet to crack. But that could only last so long. And Severus Snape was just barely hanging on, clinging to the edge of the cliff with one numb, swollen, aching finger. Severus Snape was dying in the knowledge that there were hoards of people above him, all of whom were choosing to either ignore him, cast pitying looks at him, or taunt him and make his last few breaths his most miserable.

But no one reached out their hand. No one tried to help him back up. No, instead they stomped on his fingers until they broke and bled crimson tears onto the ground above. They laughed and spat insults that burned like acid in him searing through him like a finely pointed sabre.

He couldn't remember ever having been like them. Indeed, he had never been truly happy or content as those who tormented him always seemed to be. He often wondered what it was like, to not have every memory clouded with anxiety and pain and dread and fear as all of his were. He wondered what it would be like to have someone want to save him, for someone to extend a hand toward him, for no one to wish for his fall. He wondered this most as his finger began the final treacherous slip from the rock edge and his body prepared for the jarring impact he knew awaited him. But it never came. For as his fall into oblivion began, someone reached out and took his hand.