A/N I am sorry for mistakes in spelling and grammar. I am not Native Speaker. And I am still learning English… Be merciful, it's my first fanfiction.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my sick imagination. Everything else belongs to those, who own, like Mrs Rowling, who owns Severus, even though it's not fair, she doesn't treat him with necessary dose of respect.

Rating: I think PG, there are no adult situations, (sees everyone leaving the story unread) and just a little bit of swearing. But if it's about darkness and bitterness it would be higher.

Summary: Severus Snape tells you his story. It's a bit twisted and strange. Very sad, at least for me. I was writing it mostly between 12 PM and 1 AM. It's visible. I am sorry if Severus is OOC,  but remember, even without dementors Azkaban is depressing.

Welcome. My name is Severus Snape, and I am Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ex-Death Eater, Member of the Order of the Phoenix, Spy for the Light, if want to send a letter, current address would be Azkaban.

And you are readers of Harry Potter books, mostly girls, now sitting in your comfortable chairs and ruining your sight reading this. But everyone has a story to tell, and I am not an exception. As it may be my last moment to do so, I decide I will tell it to you. I don't ask you to be fair to me, to think of me with sympathy or to pity me. I have never been too much of a fair-play person. The end justifies the means etc. Machiavelli. The lying one is the easiest to be kicked. I merely want you to read it. And than do whatever you want. Retching isn't forbidden. Now on with the story.

So.

That's how it all finishes.

It's dark and cold here. I am sitting on the floor in the corner of my cell. Waiting for the trial to begin.

I have a lot of time. Maybe too much.

It makes me think. And I would prefer not to. There is nothing pleasant to think of.

Do you want to know why I am here? What my crimes are? Who I am?

So I'll begin with the last question. My name is Severus Snape. And I am here because of the Dark Mark. Yes, I was a Death Eater. I suppose that it makes things clear. The funny thing, though, is that I was not a loyal Death Eater. I was a spy for the Order of Phoenix. And still, I am being charged. Well, I guess it means they never trusted me. Just as I thought.

And it also means Dumbledore is dead. Yes, they didn't even tell me who survived and who didn't… Well, he often told, he is not to see the new world. After we win. And he always believed we would win. If he would be alive, I wouldn't be here. He alone always trusted me. And that's probably why I turned to the Good Guys. I felt too awful, letting him down.

I suppose I am going to die. Now wizards don't have dementors to guard their prison, and of course they remember what happened when they left Very Dangerous Enemies alive. Bella Lestrange showed what one mad and craving for vengeance woman can do… So they don't leave  Very Dangerous Enemies alive.

Dumbledore is dead, so there is nobody to claim I was on their side. You say there are all the others from the Order? Well, maybe there are, but it does not mean they will help me. Severus Snape, the one that is to take the risk, to go to the Dark Lord… No. Voldemort. Now I can say the Name. So, go to the Voldemort, face him, be able to lie to him and try to get as many pieces of information as possible and than come back, hand it to them and not receive stupid single "Thank you". I am to do the worst part of it and than be left alone. Just as I am. They won't move a finger to help me. It's more comfortable to believe I was the traitor of the Order. Because than they don't have to think that the Bad One, Me, did all this from clear altruism. Because saw what is right and what is wrong. It would be too much for their stupid little brains. That a Slytherin can fight for the good side. That one can change. Shit! I am beginning to pity my own not worthy self.

If I am going to die, and it is very probable, because who is to say I am not guilty, I want to tell my story. My story, why I was what and who I was. So let the story begin…

I was born in a poor but "noble and old" family. My father was a frustrated scientist. My mother tried to keep the old and ugly house in a state that allows to live in it. And to raise me, The Heir of Snapes. And I was taught many courses, jinxes, and so on. Even the Unforgivables, during my holidays. And at school I had no friends. I divided people into three groups – those, who are more powerful and can give me something, those who are more or as powerful as I am and are my enemies, and those, who are less strong. And of course I kept with the firsts, fought with the seconds and tried to keep as far as possible from the thirds. I never found it amusing to torment them. I preferred to fight with equals. Funny, isn't it?

The fight between me and Marauders began in the day we saw each other. It was Sirius Black and James Potter who began to call me names and this kind of stuff. But I was first to use a curse at them. And it made a war. Funny, they often accused me of tormenting weaker ones. And didn't realise, that when there were four of them, though Lupin used not to do much, and Peter was only capable of cursing already petrified, and I was alone, they were tormenting the weaker one. But I could stand it. What I couldn't was humiliation.

I was always ashamed of my poor family, of my old things, of my appearance. It was stupid, but I was a teenager. And they knew it and as often as they could used it against me. And the day of our DADA OWL, they crossed the line. They humiliated me in front of half the school and nobody except a Mudblood girl found it unfair. I never did something like that. I never tormented them just because I was bored and wanted to find a way to get the stress out of my system. The stupid and conceited Potter… Of course I hated him! What did I do to deserve it? I was not a Death Eater than. And it helped me to make my decision. I decided that I will be so powerful, that no one will ever humiliate me like he did. And I found the one, that offered me power to make it come true, and gave me what I desired – knowledge. It was Voldemort. Saint Potter together with Saint Black pushed me to Voldemort. Fate's grinning evilly every time she (or he or whatever) looks at me, I suppose.

Oh, I haven't mentioned the Werewolf incident. When I was in the fifth year they also told me how to get to Lupin while he was a werewolf. A good joke indeed. I could have died. I would have died. In the last moment Potter came and saved me. I still wonder if they planned it like that. Anyway, I am sure that he saved me to save their own hides, not mine. And I don't feel thankful.

After I graduated I received the Dark Mark and soon became one of the most honoured Death Eaters. The inner circle, and this kind of stuff. As I was his best Potions Master I didn't have to take part in raids. But once I was honoured to torture and kill one of his victims. And I understood that I am doing exactly what was done to me. I am humiliating and tormenting. And I understood that I am sitting in a swamp with my ears covered, to express it adequately. I couldn't see any way out.

It took me three more months to decide I have to go to Dumbledore. That time I loathed myself so much, that it was indifferent to me if he will hand me to Dementors or not. I just wanted my schizophrenia to finish, no matter how.

And what did he do?

He gave me a quest like Sir Cadogan would say. He found me worthy to work for Good Guys and try to find peace. With world and my conscience. And so I became a spy. For the Light, to be pathetic. Me, Severus Snape. Amusing.

When the Potters gave birth to child I knew that Dark… that Voldemort wants it to be killed. I didn't know why, but Dumbledore said he knew, so I didn't try to find out. I was sure there is a traitor between close friends of Potters. And they thought it was Lupin… Again amusing. I wouldn't ever think of him. Well, he was a werewolf, but he was also very noble. And loved Potters. But what I thought was of no value. And so the Potters died. Nothing to be sorry about. And the little heir of them defeated Voldemort. Well, not completely – I knew that he is still somewhere. Not alive. But not dead either. So I wasn't allowed to live a normal life yet. I was still supposed to be a spy. Waiting for him to return.

And so he did. He tried several times after young Potter had arrived at school. Of course I disliked him since very first moment – he looked exactly like Potter The Elder and was just as arrogant and vain. Well, but I had this stupid Debt. Because Saint Potter saved my poor excuse for life. And, anyway, I am not a monster, I don't find pleasure in watching children killed. So I protected the Boy-Who-Lived. I was furious when someone tried to kill him during a quidditch match and  to protect him. And I was furious when Granger set my robes on fire. Well, she thought that I was trying to hex The Boy Who Lived. As if I had nothing better to do… Amusing.

Later there were all these attacks during second year. I knew that there is only one explanation – Voldemort found a new way to enter the school. And probably is possessing one of the students… or Lockhart. But Lockhart was too stupid, Lord wouldn't touch him with a six feet long stick… Well, I guess he wouldn't even hex him. But I had not this kind of pride and had a lot of fun during Duelling Club. But still it was better to have him along then to endure Lupin The Big Good Wolf.

I was very angry when I heard Dumbledore offered him DADA Professor position. I hoped I will never have to see him again… But no. I had to live under the same roof with him for all year and to treat him with respect as my colleague. Well, I know that he never participated in these stupid pranks or hexed me, or something like that. But still he was their friend. And that was not all. Sirius Black was on a run. Indeed a happy time.

As I said I was sure that it's not Lupin that passed information to Voldemort. But I must admit that Black was even more impossible for me. But still everything led to him. Well, I was feeling worse and worse as the year was going. My only pleasure was that Lupin was dependent on me – he had to take the Wolfsbane Potion, that only few Potions Master can prepare. Including me. And I know it tastes awfully and it was my bit of pleasure… Just as tormenting Longbottom. I know I am cruel and sadistic bastard, but still I couldn't stand his reaction to me. Well, sometimes it was even funny, to effect fear, but still the boggart as me was a bit too much… I was only glad Lupin saw it. I hoped he will think twice before he says a word about Old Good Times

And than… When I discovered Black… When I saw him all the hatred came back. I was lucky that I didn't lose control and didn't curse him… Shit, and I was wrong! I was sure he was going to kill that poor excuse for wizard The Boy Who Lived And So What… But no. He was innocent. Well, I suppose it's not an appropriate word when we talk about Black… But back to the subject. He escaped with Potter's help. Albus helped them… Later we had a long talk. He explained everything to me and for the first time I told him The Truth about his pet Marauders.

Well, it was the first time I managed to shock him, I suppose, and still he was sure I was exaggerating. But he didn't convince me that Young Potter is better then Saint James Potter. I managed to keep my hatred towards the boy inside and nearly not shown. And the next term was indeed difficult…The Dark Mark started to return. And so I started to get ready for what I knew was waiting for me – my spy activities were to be started again.

I was deeply shocked when I saw Barty. And his testimony… Damn it, I really would prefer not to be born sometimes… And than Cornelius Yes I Really Am That Stupid Fudge brought dementor and we lost the only chance to convince the world that Voldemort returned.

I still can't understand how did I manage to convince Voldemort about my loyalties. Maybe I would be equally stupid, if I would be in third part a Potter, in third a very stupid Muggle and in third a Pettigrew… Anyway, he believed me. So the Great Game began.

What else did I have to endure? Except for the Lupin and Black, together again? Black had even cheek to call me Snivellus again. Well, I suppose it was a bit too much. Lupin played the Arbiter. And why did it all begin? Of course because of Potter. Every time I am humiliated or something like that, there must be a Potter involved. Maybe I was cursed a special potterus curse while I was a baby? Sorry, I am beginning to be too sarcastic. It's supposed to be serious. So let's go back to Sirius. He was probably afraid that during this occlumency lessons I will harass his precious godson, because of what they did to me. Coming from his small brain I must admit it was a brilliant discovery. Or maybe this was written on my face. Well, if he intended to help Potter he didn't choose the right way. Well, he could have simply asked. Or even say something about "Harry not being responsible for that". Well, it wouldn't do much, but still it wouldn't do any hurt. Instead he tried to threaten me.

I shall not abuse cursive. I was always proud I can say  cursive, but now I indeed use it too often…

So he did the worst thing he could – reminded me about everything and revived anger. But still I was as patient as I could. Even though the stupid boy wasn't doing any better with the passing time. But than something happened I didn't expect – when I left him alone with the pensieve he dared to intrude my most private memories. These that I wanted to protect from him. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Am I always to be humiliated by Potters? Pray, what did I do to deserve it? Sorry, wrong question. I do deserve everything that happens to me. But it doesn't mean I have to greet it with widely-opened arms.

I felt like killing the boy that very second I saw him looking inside pensieve. But I knew it was not a solution. Not to be considered. I have enough innocent blood on my hands. Well, if Potter's blood is to be called innocent… Anyway, I came inside the memory. Luck he arrived only this far… Oh, maybe you are wondering if he indeed took of my pants? Well, he did. It was the very moment I first felt like killing so strongly, that if I hadn't been petrified I wouldn't have been able to resist. Preferably it would have been done with my bare hands. Happy?

And than the  worst happened – Voldemort managed to convince Potter that he had got Black. So the Hero went to Department of Mysteries in the Ministry. Straight into his hands. Shit, I was so afraid that the last chance is lost. When Potter and Granger didn't come back from the forest, I tried to organise some help, and luckily, Potter stayed alive. Instead this idiot Black died. And here comes the best part – Potter began to blame me for this. I saw it in his eyes. I was amused. How the young mind can work… With this one thought, he was cleaning his father's memory, his godfather's one too, his own conscience about both going to department and peeking in my memories. But at least the school year was over.

I was sure that in the next year I will not have to endure presence of Amazing Trio on my lessons. I was wrong. Only Weasley dropped Potions. Well, Granger at least had enough points on her OWL's, but Potter was given special permission by Headmaster. And Voldemort was growing more and more angry with lack of information. I had to give him a bit of lies, and than I was given a special task – I was to poison Potter. Not to death, he willed to be the one to have a pleasure of killing him, he just wanted him weakened. Headmaster agreed we have to inform the boy, to make him act accordingly. It was a funny confrontation – boy didn't know how to tell he didn't trust me. We were to give him a potion that would make him weak for a short period, but finally would make him stronger – he didn't want to drink anything I made. Headmaster tried to be patient. But at long last even he got irritated and said, that if he didn't trust me, he didn't trust him. Than the boy obeyed. Well, there were other interesting things that year too – young Malfoy tried to kill Potter. I had to give him a big tongue-lashing, about being loyal to the Lord, who wants Potter only for him. But I could understand the boy – his father was in Azkaban, his mother left for France… He had nobody, and blamed Potter. And during the last Hogsmead weekend Voldemort attacked the village. Many students and teachers died. An the problem was, that there must have been a traitor, who told Voldemort how to get to through the wards. And than the term finished.

I wasn't summoned during the summer, I was told only to make some research on potions that have effect similar to the one that contain philosopher's stone. And so I did. It didn't even took me too long, only a month. The second I spent trying to find a way, to make the potion malfunction, but in the way, that Voldemort won't recognise. And I managed.

The seventh year started, and both sides worked hard. It was certain, that the Final Battle was to be soon… At school we taught children how to defend their selves, how to fight, how to hide. We tried to prepare them. As if it was possible, to be prepared for Voldemort.

I don't want to go into details. Everything that you need to know, you know. The battle came and The Light won. I don't know who died and who is alive. They didn't even tell me that. I am only sure that Voldemort died and Potter is still alive. I also know that Malfoys died. Oh yes, I forgot to tell that Lucius had been set free by Voldemort. The funny thing is that he changed sides when he saw his son killed by one of Death Eaters for disobedience. Didn't even think about it, I suppose – just turned and killed that one, and than started his Danse Macabre. He was like an angel of death – when he fell, killed by Pettigrew many of us couldn't believe our eyes. He alone changed the turn of events, gave us time to regain forces. He was the closest thing to a friend I ever had, except for Albus. But he is a completely different story.

So now I am sitting here and pondering about what happened. I know it's unjust, what they do to me, because I am going to be sentenced for what I hadn't done, not for my sins. But as I deserve death sentence from different reasons, we can say that in general Justice will triumph.

I am sitting here. It's dark and cold. And I am alone. If we consider everything, it's not so different from my normal days, when I finish teaching and stay alone. In my dungeons.

I really don't care if I will be sentenced. I only want to know who died in the battle. I have the right to know.

Maybe when you die, you find peace?

If you do, I want to die.

I hear footsteps. They are growing louder.

The doors crack open. The light blinds me.

I hear a familiar voice. It's Perceval Weasley. His pompous voice says:

'Mister Severus Snape, you have to go now. You will be judged by The Highest Instance today'

'What am I accused of?'

'I am not to tell this to you'

'What did I do to be refused the most basic answers?'

'I am not to tell you.'

I swallow the answer I was going to give and stand up. I manage to take only one step before I fall. That's all about my pride… Weasley commands his companion to help me stand. I am trembling. He makes his decision and they half draw, half carry me from my cell. There is even more light in the corridor.

Too much light.

Maybe it's just a nightmare? And I will wake up in hospital wing, to see Albus's face, and he will tell me everything is over? And… maybe I will even smile. Just once.