Disclaimer: You know the drill...'tis not mine.
Severus
I could not tell you why I like Lily Evans so much. I would go as far to say I love her. I have a feeling it has to do with her radiating innocence and decency, both of which are strong enough to counteract the evil and cantankerous nature which resides in my own being.
If I could take back the hurtful words I said to her that day by the lake, I would. To utter such a word as 'moodblood' is not uncommon for me, in fact, I would go as far to say such excerpts are indicative of my nature. However, to direct such hurt and hatred toward an undeserving subject was certainly a further step in my continuous descent into dark magic and a world which I could only ever imagine being an avid participant of. I have lost the one connection I had with the good world; the humane world; the world against evil. Now there is nothing to stop me embracing fully the life of a powerful and feared fugitive in a club so exclusive, members are branded and summonsed at the will of the Great One. I join, not to be a mere participant of cleansing the world, but to be a part of something greater than this pathetic excuse for a school will allow; to be a part of something greater than my family could ever offer me or expect of me; to be a part of something greater than that of human existence. I join because one day, I will be the one to brand others.
For now, I take the first step to achieve ultimate power. I am branded, at the beck and call of the Dark Lord. While my political views are clear to all in my presence, I am not about to advertise my mark. Instead I shall resort to long sleeved robes and concealment charms which will be almost, if not more, obvious than the mark itself. Let people speculate I say, for some may feel a shred of good still lies within me.
I hope for my own sake that there is good still left within me, or if nothing else, I hope that I have simply buried it shallow enough so that I may access it in a time of need. Unfortunately, I know this good has already disappeared, or at the very least, buried so deep as to never be retrieved again. Perhaps one day I shall feel the need to find remorse for something I may have done, and will somehow rediscover what I long since buried in order to save my soul, but for now, I cannot see how this could occur. I am only capable of accessing good for one person, and she has eluded me.
I fear not for my own future, but for hers. I can envision it now, the bespectacled boy finally reaching into the depths of her heart. I hate that I can so easily see the two together, for the bespectacled boy is like me, but simply representing a different cause. Arrogance he has in spades. Cruel intention he has for those who oppose him. Followers he too has but in the form of blood traitors, werewolves and overenthusiastic crowd followers. He is not unlike me, but because he is for the 'greater good' somehow this justifies his actions of humiliation and degradation of others, while my actions are always put down to mere evil tendencies. I am not complaining of my own portrayal, but that of James Potter, who is seen as some form of God while his actions are not far removed from my own. I must add that many of my actions in our ongoing battle are in self defence, while his are cold and calculated. To owe a life debt to someone such as James Potter is derisory, especially when it was one of his own disciples who planned the attack. Somehow, somewhere, the arrogant prick decided his conscious couldn't handle having a life on his hands, on his friend's hands, and for purely selfish reasons prevented me from attack by the werewolf Lupin. If my death would have caused him great grief, then I would have preferred reaching the end of the tunnel. He deserves to suffer, but instead, will be rewarded with what I can now only imagine in the furthermost corner of my mind.
I owe my life nothing as it has never offered me anything of great use or service. I bestow upon myself the gift of intelligence; I say this gift was of my own doing as my parents were clearly not the source for my intellectual aptitude. The dark arts are the only ones which can nurture my gift, so I will give the dark arts my life in return.
A/N: Okay, so this is a very morbid chapter...I don't think I planned Snape to be this depressive but that's just how it came out when i started writing it. For some reason i just imagined him having a very formal, intelligent thought process, hence the use of big words lol. Just for the record, i'm not saying Snape is completely evil (i cried so much in the chapter bout him in the last book!) this was just to indicate that once he lost Lily, he felt all he could do was to succumb to the evil which he knew he could be capable of...does that make sense? lol...
ANYWAY please review...maybe i should think of a proper plot...don't worry, i've got OC's in the works