Title: So This Must Be the End
Author: Unspoken Tragedy
Rating: PG-13, for dark themes and death
Spoilers: None really
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literally.
Summary: He was the hero the world had never deserved. Severus Snape ends it all.
A/N: It's been a while since I last posted, sorry. I have had a terrible past month... For info on updates on my other stories and just me in personal check out my journal:
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So This Must Be the End
Rain battered the wizard's body as he silently stood on top of the astronomy tower. His breaths came out in shaky gasps and his limbs shivered in their drenched state. His dark robes and black cloak clung to his body, his hair to his face. Held lightly in his hands was a silver dagger he had gotten years ago while in Paris.
Tonight was the night. He had planned it all out so perfectly. None would know to stop him, not even the Headmaster himself. They were all at an Order meeting, which their spy, due to feigned illness, could not attend. By the time any were to realize what had happened, it would be too late.
The world around him was silent, save for the pounding rain, as if even God himself were waiting with bated breathe for him to act.
It had been a long time coming to this. Life had been cruel to this ex-Death Eater. One after another, all who he loved had betrayed him and left him to flounder on his own. Each dream he had so diligently worked towards fell apart before completion.
He had tried so hard to walk the straight and narrow, but never could find the strength to stay the path.
He had failed in the end; had let himself be taken in by false promises of grandeur and acceptance. He'd given in to the Dark Lord, becoming just another Death Eater behind the faceless mask of death.
By the time he realized he'd taken the wrong road, he was already miles along it. The boy in him had attempted to find redemption, turned back to join the good fight.
But it had never been enough. Giving everything for the right cause did not erase the mistakes he's made and he could not forget that. Consequently, neither could anyone else.
Oh yes, he was well aware of what everyone said while his back were turned.
"He's evil; he was a Death Eater you know..."
"He's still working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, I'm sure of it."
Their words echoed through his mind, restlessly tormenting him along with the demons of his own sordid past. He was a killer. A Slytherin. A spy.
No sacrifices a man could make would ever change what he truly was. And he was the worst of them, even if only in his own mind.
None would mourn this man, only the advantages they would lose in the war with his death.
He hated them. They with their perfect families, nice houses, supportive friends... The world had never given him the chance for any of what they took for granted. And he hated them for it. And they hated him for what he was.
People would say that he died at his own hand, but it really was hate that had killed the Order's only spy. The hate that was all the world had ever offered him even before the wizard had become a killer. It was the only gift he had ever gotten, and he nurtured it well.
He was a bitter man. Cold and callous, one could not be blamed for their hatred of him. Really. He lashed out at all that came near and hardened his heart to any such emotions that others would cherish deeply.
But this man was not like the others. He was what those around him had created, their own Frankenstein. They denied their creation of course. Like a mother who abandons her child, they denied that he had been borne of them. They were the Light side; they would never do such things as to abuse a child simply because he was different. They were too righteous to use a broken man, to force him to endure a sort of penance that they themselves would never have willingly endured should the roles had been reversed.
Yet, in the end he had endured. Until now that is.
The blade in his hands comforted him to no end. It would all be over soon. And he couldn't be any happier to meet his end.
The lone spy briefly wondered what Hell would be like when he got there. He held no illusions that he should be going anywhere else after death.
The rain poured on.
He lifted the dagger, and with one sharp downward slice the blood began to flow. Out of his wrist, his life force drained, splashing the tower red before it was washed away by the rain. With another sharp movement his other wrist too had been slashed, and the world began to blur.
He could feel his limbs weakening, and his body felt like it had been infused with ice.
He held no more regrets.
He had finally reached redemption within his own heart, and it was enough.
The world would still turn without him. The sun would rise again the next morning regardless of whether he rose with it. And that was the way of the world.
Severus Snape had lived alone, and now he would die alone. It did not matter that he was a hero, that he saved so many lives, even if reluctantly.
He was a villain. He was a hero. He was a killer. He was a savior.
And now he was gone.
The rain continued on. All his blood, sweat and tears were washed away, as he lay silently on top of the Astronomy Tower. They would find him in the morning, too late to ever wake him.
He was the hero the world had never deserved.
They would need him in the upcoming war. And he would not be there.
They had murdered their last hope, and sealed their own fate.
For without their spy, this war was lost.
The world would not be turning long.
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