A/N: Okay, so this is my first Harry Potter fic, so be kind. This does deal with themes of suicide and violence, and eventually some romance (I've got to set it up first). Of course Hermione is out of school so no teacher/student stuff, but there is that age difference. If that bothers you, I'm sorry, don't read this. I live off reviews, so please don't make me starve, feed the poor, 'tis the season, and all that. I think I've covered it all. So, with out further ado....

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my twisted ideas. Sadly Sev is property of J.K. Rowling, along with Hermione and Dumbledore. I just take them out to play sometimes. Oh, and I don't own any of KoRn's stuff either (sadly...) they're just cool guys who know what Sev's talkin' about here. Go, listen to you "Issues" CD, we'll wait...

A/N: I guess just a little ado...

***Requiem for Contentment***

"Albus, he can take care of himself."

"No Hermione, you see that's why I called you. I'm afraid he's rather worse than I first feared. Whatever the Dark Mark had in it is causing him severe pain still. Voldemort can't call him anymore, he can't make the mark burn red in his arm, but it's like an addiction now, and Severus can't pull himself out of the depression that's consumed him."

Hermione Granger, now 25 and an established witch, liked Severus Snape very little, but she liked even less the prospect of losing him to himself. She sighed and looked up into her old headmaster's wise eyes. "He won't talk to me. He hasn't so much as uttered a single syllable to me since Voldemort was defeated."

"Hermione, he hasn't uttered a single syllable to anyone since that time. I wouldn't have asked you to do something I know will cause you pain unless it was for a much greater good." Dumbledore sat back into his chair and sighed. He looked much older than she remembered, and the eyes that had always sparkled with amusement now held a deep grief.

"Severus is like a son to me. In all the years I have known him he has never been the happiest man, but I have never seen him so cut off. There have been times when he has refused to speak to me, but then you were always there."

"I can't do this, Albus. He cut me off completely. I tried, for months I tried to talk to him, to get him to open up, but he's just gone."

Now Dumbledore leaned forward and Hermione wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a hint of desperation in his eyes. "Hermione, please."

They were two words that brought such sadness and wretched desperation with them that she couldn't refuse even if he had been asking her to take her own life.

"I'll go to him," she paused, more determination seeped in to her voice, "but I can't promise anything. If he refuses to talk to me I'm not going to push him further. I promised myself I wouldn't play into his childish games anymore."

"Ah, but I believe this goes much deeper than Severus' famed stubbornness, something is very wrong with him, and for once I know not what to do."

Hermione smiled and touched his hand trying to put some hope back into his eyes. She rose to leave and Dumbledore looked up at her. "Thank you, child."

Hermione smiled and grabbed her cloak walking swiftly toward the door wondering just how he had talked her into it.

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair and sipped his tea. "Please, Severus, if you just do one thing for yourself, let Hermione help you."

***

Severus Snape stood in his bathroom regarding himself through half-lidded eyes. He didn't just hate himself and his sallow, sour appearance, he loathed them. He imagined the reason he looked the way he did was because the darkness and evil in his heart had found a way to seep through the rest of him. Perhaps it was the very little goodness in him that let it show, this way no good, pure person would want to be near him, least of all touch him.

In moments of real self-pity, or times when he was so near someone who he longed to know he wished he didn't look so vile. He yearned for the affection of someone other than Dumbledore, preferably a woman, a very particular woman.

He looked down into the sink. If he had been cursed with such a horrible appearance then perhaps he was meant to be alone. Maybe if it was just his appearance he could console himself with thoughts of a shallow world that just couldn't look deeper than his crooked nose. However, Severus knew it was much more than an ugly face that kept people away. His soul -- what was left of it at least -- was stained. He could never remove the pain he had caused, or blood he had spilt.

The blood of the slain can only be washed away by our own, Severus. We couldn't have that now could we? Listen, Snape, they're muggles and mudbloods. They won't matter in the end and when our Lord takes control you won't even remember half the blood you've shed.

"That's the problem, Lucius, you murdering prick." More and more as of late Severus caught himself speaking out loud to the voices in his head. He knew it was unhealthy, but Lucius' voice was more and more realistic. Severus tried to tell himself Lucius was dead, he couldn't be speaking to him, but he felt the icy breath of a dead man brush past his ear. Sometimes, in moments of deepest self-loathing he felt the chill from within and heard Lucius louder than ever.

Snape looked back in the mirror and heard the voice again.

We'll cleanse ourselves with their blood, Snape. We can purify ourselves and our Lord with the blood of muggles. We'll have plenty of entertainment with the mudbloods and squibs agony. That mark doesn't come without perks, Snape.

"Shut-up."

Now, now, Severus, you don't want anyone to think you're crazy do you?

Severus raised his arm and struck the mirror, breaking it into shards of glass lying in the sink and on the floor.

How do you suppose you'll explain that one?

"I don't plan on anyone seeing it."

I do believe a certain Ms. Hermione Granger plans on visiting you this evening.

"How the hell would you know Lucius, you're dead. In fact you're not even talking to me. I don't know why I waste the breath to speak out loud to something that doesn't exist."

Are you sure I don't exist? I know you can feel me, inside you when you hate, behind you when you try to pull yourself out. I'll never leave you, Snape. You're the reason our Lord fell, the reason I fell.

"I'm through with this. Go back to hell Lucius."

Ah, but you're personal hell is much more intriguing. A pause. Fine, fine, I'll go back for now, I can see you're contemplating something quite interesting to some, but after a while, Sev, you're suicide attempts get boring.

Then he was gone, and for a brief moment Severus felt something akin to contentment. It was fleeting, however, and soon his thoughts became morbid and black. He dropped to the floor and picked up a shard of broken glass. "So my attempts get boring, eh?" He pressed his finger to the edge of the glass and felt the skin break. "Perhaps, Lucius it's not death I wish for but escape from your mind-numbing chatter."

Severus chuckled at that and began to cut. They always began small and thin, you wouldn't be able to tell they were there if it weren't for the blood. Eventually when he had lost enough blood he began to get careless and they became deeper and flesh was gouged out rather than sliced. Perhaps his own blood would cleanse him.

***

Finally he's gone. What bothers me most about his incessant chirping is not what he says-- nothing can make me loathe myself more than I already do-- it's that I can feel it. I'd rather not feel anything at this point. If the memories entrenched in my mind would just find another place to hang instead of over my head for just a few moments I could feel at least the smallest bit of contentment.

The blood can make me numb sometimes, and other times it makes me remember. So really it's a gamble, one I'm willing to take. Numbness is something I would give anything for. If I knew death would bring complete oblivion I would take the plunge. But I am to spineless to bring myself to that point willingly. Sometimes when the cuts begin to dig deep I think it might be easy to just move the blade to my wrists, or maybe my neck, but sometimes I pass out before I can make it, and sometimes I'm too weak to cut deep enough, and sometimes I remember that at one point I was getting up for a reason other than I didn't want to disappoint Dumbledore.

Now I have to cut deeper because I know I ruined that too. Anything I touch is soiled. A little bit of my sin is passed on. The hands that have seen so much blood --even if recently it's been only mine-- are never rid of that stain. Dumbledore looks at me and pities me and loves me I think, but he's not enough. No matter how much I want to pretend that I don't care that no one sees past the Dark Mark, it cuts me more than this glass.

The real reason I can't bring myself to die --and this I rarely admit to myself-- is that I can't separate myself from the mark. It has permeated my mind, body, and soul. It needs me to live and it's become a kind of addiction that I can't free myself from. I love the mark, I am one with it, and so it's the one place I never touch with a blade. For one solitary moment I felt that I was a part of something that was going to change everything, and I was more right than I would have liked.

My vision begins to cloud... The mark is my addiction... One... Together... I want to die...

***********

*** Hey Daddy***

Let me see (let me see)
All my life has been (taken) taken
This demon (haunts me) haunts me
They're waiting (help me)
Help me

You fuck me up
I'm gagged and bound
You pick me up
When I am down
I cannot live without them
I do not live without them

Hey Daddy
They are taking me
Away
Biting
Facing him (what soul)
My soul
They're eating (help me)
Please help me

You fuck me up
I'm gagged and bound
You pick me up
When I am down
I cannot live without them
I do not live without them

They say this thing inside me
Wants to get out
All it does is scream and shout
I'm trying not to let them out
They tell me to hurt myself
But I'm not gonna listen

You fuck me up
I'm gagged and bound
You pick me up
When I am down
I cannot live without them
I do not live without them

Hey daddy
(waiting)

***(KoRn, Issues, "Hey Daddy")***