I'm writing something... and I'm using this...because I just heard it. And maybe by the time I'm done I'll be able to touch type...because I'm using a French keyboard on an English computer and I have to remember where all the English letters are. I think I'm doing quite well.

"Maybe I'm all messed up. Maybe I'm all messed up in you. This is the only time I really feel alive."

Severus' eyes flickered dangerously as he gazed at his mentor uneasily. He'd been a Death Eater for two weeks only and he was already being entrusted with a lot of Voldemort's most dangerous work. But this was something he hadn't expected to be given to do.

"Are you sure that you can trust me with this, sire?" Severus asked, trying to sound as though it were the most natural thing in the world to ask such a question.

"I do hope you don't doubt yourself...or me."

"No Sir...it's just - wouldn't you rather ask a graduate to do such things...?"

"Severus...even the Ministry of Magic know that you're an incredibly talented boy...probably more talented than anybody who has worked in the arts of Potion Making. There are 150 year old wizards who have spent all their years in the practice of the arts who know far less than you do."

Snape's ego had been fantastically boosted. There was no doubt in his mind now about his talent. He'd prove that he was the best - for Voldemort, the Ministry of Magic and for himself.

"So your task will be complete in a week then? Don't forget - the children have to die after they leave the school...we can't afford the amount of suspects to be narrowed down because of the people who could have come into contact with them."

Severus nodded distantly. He was already thinking about the types of poisons he'd have to put together in order to create such a potion. He knew how he'd pull off the final part of course...and that meant that the poisons he chose were crucially important. They had to have antivenoms that could be given previously.

The Slytherin student got straight to work in the dungeons. He was never disturbed there. There were no classes in the dungeons...they were all in the normal sur sol levels of the school. The only people that ever came down to that level were the rats - a few cats in search of these rats - and Filch who was quite pleasant with Severus since he was a Slytherin student and didn't make any trouble in his domain - contrary to the Gryffindor four...who seemed to do nothing but make trouble.

Severus snarled as his thoughts passed over memories of Remus, Sirius, James, Peter and most of all Lily. She was a Ravenclaw, good at charms, friendly...everything that he wasn't. Together they'd have made the perfect couple - able to fill in for each other. And James took her. Remus and Sirius had hurt him too for a different reason. He'd wanted to try to be friends. Sirius told him that they could meet up through the hole under the tree...and all he'd met was the werewolf Remus and a huge black dog.

Another reason to hate James...for saving him. That meant that he owed James something - and since it was a life-wish...Severus would have to save his life in return...and that probably meant that he'd have to betray Voldemort.

But they'd know how great he was when he had them all on their knees before him - their wands broken. That ideal of course would only come to fruitition if Severus could start off his term with Voldemort well.

He was so fresh with Voldemort that his tattoo still burnt on his wrist - even though it was completely invisible. He'd scratched it constantly for two weeks though - and the whole thing was bright red.

Ah...black lily petals and snake eyes. He could use the rosehips potion to coat the inside of the gullet of the Deatheaters that way - and snake eyes had a delayed affect. If he pureed the black lily petals, added liquefied dragons blood (as it came in a powder), grated devil's tongue berries and mint leaves - he could even make the potion taste like some kind of drink and he could get it more easily into the gullets of his prey.

There...now that wasn't too hard. The poison wouldn't take long to brew and it had to be fresh - an hour and a half should do it...but the pre-antidote would take five days. All would be fine...he would get the rest of the Slytherins to organise a party for the last day of school in the common room...just for the sixth years...and he would pull off the trick there.

At 35 - Snape still could remember everything of that first year...and he could remember killing his classmates clearer than anything else at all. Perhaps because he was so young is why it was so easy for Dumbledore to coax him back to the light...but it felt awful...he would always remember.

He leant back, letting his eyes flicker shut quietly. He still didn't know how Dumbledore had found out but he was glad. When he returned for his seventh year Dumbledore had begun to request his presence more and more...and that was when he had became a spy for him. He wasn't asked to kill again...but he had ended up having to betray Voldemort's most precious council and attempt to save James.

Anyway - back to sixth year. The party had gone perfectly...each of the Slytherins on Voldemort's side had marked a non-Deatheater Slytherin - they were four to one. There were so many in the class that year...more than twenty...and some of them had foolishly said that they wouldn't join Voldemort unaware of the fact that it would kill them.

When the students returned....there were five less Slytherins in the class than there had been the previous year. It was murder...everyone knew - but the blame was never placed. Only it was...it was placed secretly. But as Dumbledore didn't need people to know that he knew Snape was a Deatheater and had done these awful things - and because he was giving Severus a second chance - and because he needed a spy...

Snape was broken from his reverie as his fire rose up with terrible red sparks that frustrated him a little. His fire should be green...but if so then it would mean that a Slytherin was visiting him - and he didn't think he could face a Deatheater at the moment. Not that he was relieved when the flames solidified into the werewolf Gryffindor.

"What do you want, Remus...?"

"Well I was just thinking...that this is the day we all graduated...and since I couldn't meet up with anyone else I'd graduated with I thought I'd come see you."

"Lucius graduated with you too, Remus." Severus said each name like they would poison him if he didn't keep them at a distance to himself.

"Yes...but I never wanted to talk to Lucius in school...and I always wanted to talk to you."

Severus felt something of his miserable childhood self stir deep in his heart. It knocked him off course for a second and instead of some kind of witty repartee he said "How come you never asked?"

Remus let the flicker of a knowing smile move over his lips but got rid of it before it could possibly annoy the Potions Master. "I never had the chance...Sirius hated you and he did everything he could to drive a rift between me and you."

Things were beginning to make sense...Severus had never thought that way before. "And why didn't you try to make this up while you were a Professor here...?"

"I was worried that if we did make up and Sirius saw me with you...he'd avoid me too..."

Snape finally nodded and waved to a chair. "Well settle down...I suppose today is a day for change after all. Harry's year graduated today...Voldemort is gone...it's a time for healing old scars..."


The author puts on 'Last Time' by Dry Cell and sinks miserably into her chair. "Phew...I finished something for a change. I thought this was going to be slash but I didn't think that I should've written anymore. It was kind of pointless...but as I was feeling miserable I thought I'd make some other people miserable too. This little story just kind of helps me to understand Snape's character a little more and represents my view on him. These aren't very good though.look for better bits of my work soon "