A/N: I did this story because I really don't think that Snape is evil, I think Dumbledore wanted Snape to kill him. The reason for this is Dumbledore begged, he isn't the begging type, he new he was going to die one way or another, so he got Snape to do it, no point in Snape blowing his cover for a dieing man.

Hidden Tears

I sat in my office quietly, reading through yesterday's essays. I deliberately gave the Slytherin's high marks and the Gyrffindor's low, why should I give that bunch of dunderheads any good grades? Its not as though they ever bothered to try for it. I was just finishing scrawling the last F onto David Creavleas work when a loud bang came from above me. My head shot up and my eyes widened with shocked surprise. A scream sounded followed by a shout and another scream. I quickly pushed back my chair and sprinted out of my dungeon office. I raced along the cold stone corridors, my feet pounding loudly. Had Draco done it? Had he finished the cabinet? Are the Death Eaters here? I ran out into the main school, my heart pounding, furiously beating against my chest. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw what was happening. Students were running in every direction, their hands over there heads and screaming. Death Eaters were all around, firing curses every which way. Body's of all ages from 11 to 18 was littering the floor. A few of the older students were fighting back, hurling their own spells at the hooded and masked foes. A shower to deadly sparkling light all around. I new I should do something, but what; if I did I'd blow my cover.

I ran threw the panicked crowds, pushing people out of the way whether they were Death Eaters, Order members (who were just starting to arrive) or students. I was running down a corridor leading to the entrance hall when a door flew open right before me. I skidded to a stop just as Remus Lupin came crashing threw and hit the opposite wall. He lay there for a few seconds, a dazed and confused expression on his wrinkled face. His eyes suddenly came into sharp focus and he jumped to his feet. I don't know if he saw me or not, but within a second he was back in the room duelling.

I carried on and burst into the Great Hall with a loud bang. There was even more fighting going on here. Flickwick and McGonagall were duelling with a pair of wizards. Moody, Shackbolt and Tonks were also duelling. On the other side of the hall I saw Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley and, to my surprise, Neville Longbottem firing spells. God knows how they weren't hit them selves, but some how every curse shot at them missed, clearly aggravating the attacking Death Eaters. I looked around the hall and saw two Death Eaters leave threw the large oak doors into the grounds. I looked out of the window and my heart almost stopped. Draco Malfoy was standing out side, wand raised, above the form of Albus Dumbledore. But Draco didn't seem to be doing anything, I new that he was meant to be doing though. He won't do it. He won't kill Dumbledore, Draco's not a killer. That must be why those Death Eaters are heading out. I made for the door and was just about to yank it open and hex the Death Eaters when my thoughts stopped me. Should I help? Voldemort will know it was me. But how could I just sit back and watch the only man that gave me a second chance and had faith in me die? Dumbledore helped me when I needed it the most. Even though I was the enemy he helped me. The old man saved my life, now it was time to return the favour, so be it if my life is forfeit, Dumbledore plays a vital roll in this war, not me. Making up my mind I threw open the heavy doors and ran over to were Dumbledore lay. As I reached him I whipped out my wand, ready to defend him with my own life. Before firing I looked at him, into his normally twinkling eyes. But what I saw terrified me, his light blue eyes held no light or happiness, they were dark and fading, a dim grey was tacking over. The wrinkles on his face were showing more then ever and he was weak, he couldn't even move well. I could see the great power and magic he held slipping away. This wasn't Dumbledore; it was an old, ill, dieing man.

I looked deep into his eyes. "Severus…Please…" I new what he meant. But I couldn't! How could I! No I won't do it! I won't! Please don't make me! "…Please…" I still looked into his pleading eyes. I new I had to. I forcefully brought up my wand. Each time my arm got a miller meter higher it felt as though someone had stabbed me, slowly driving the knife threw, causing a long and unbearable pain to surge threw me like a raging river. As my wand reached his level I new my face showed nothing but a look of deep hatred, but it wasn't for Dumbledore as any anyone watching would think, it was for myself, for what I was about to do. I thought back a harsh breath and the tears that threatened to spill. I heard the words escape my mouth, but it was as if someone else was saying them. The two words I'll never forget, that will haunt me for the rest of my days, no matter how long or short they happen to be. Goodbye old man.

"ADAVA KEDAVRA!"