The Curse.

He carried a secret, probably more dangerous than anything he had ever encountered in his whole miserable life. This curse would truly destroy him, there was no doubt about that. And there was nothing he could do about it. But in spite of the pain and suffering, of the torment and anguish caused by this secret, he loved it. And that was what would evidently destroy him in the end.

He had wandered down the dark path so many times over the past years and this last time wouldn't be any different. Or so he had thought. In the final battle between light and dark he had chosen his side years ago, but he had hidden his betrayal well. And his master had had no clue what so ever until the very end. And who would have thought that in the very same moment his master drew his last shaking breath of air he would also cry out the very spell that would destroy his betraying servant more thoroughly than any cruciatus-spell? He would rather have died than this. Death would have been easy. Sadly, so had thought his master, Voldemort.

And now he was caught in this hell, this condition he couldn't see any way out of. He was carrying the very thing that would destroy his image of a cold and nasty, middle-aged man, the horrible potions teacher who above all loathed and resented one, the Boy Who Lived. No one knew this couldn't have been further from the truth. But when this was to be revealed everybody would hate him even more. The slimy, nasty and filthy beast of a man had a craving he had tried to keep hidden under his cold appearance and hush words. But in the end he was nothing more than a pitiful creature, a disgusting vulture.


Sometimes, when two wizards meet, an invisible bond grows between them, tying them, linking their souls till the ends of times and even beyond. This had happened one night at Hogwarts, some 6 years ago, as Severus Snape had got his first glimpse of the boy the whole wizard-world knew and cherished. He knew it instantly, and he knew how wrong he was to even think about it. Fate had made a screw up somewhere in the system, it had matched him with a boy younger by twenty years! So he had become the boys protector.

And as much as it pained him he had kept his distance from the boy for both their sakes. The boy and the world could never know his true feelings, and neither could his master. His love was pure, he would never intentionally hurt the boy, and he had no craving for young boys in general. If only he had been ten years younger or the boy ten years older. But now he had to try and destroy instead of trying and building what was written in the stars of the future. A man grows tired trying to rid himself of such a fate. He even risks loosing his own soul, denying it. But how could he not? He was no monster!!!

And now the whole world was about to collapse around its very existence. He had no protection any more, he was naked and even in more danger than when his deadly master was still alive. Voldemort had cursed him with the very love that possessed his body. With an ancient spell he had made Severus more vulnerable than what a thousand disarming spells could have done. It was as simple as it was cruel, cursing him with something Severus never would have the heart of getting rid of himself, no matter how great the cost.


He'd grown tired and weary of fighting. As a death eater he had had to do unspeakable things in order to stay in Voldemort's inner circle. It was the only way to get the job done, but Severus could feel he had lost a little bit of his soul every time his wand had done something for the side of darkness. It was for the cause, he would tell him self, but still it hurt. Still he was coming home at night feeling numb and with a growing sensation of despair. He had gained back his old master's trust soon enough, but the things he had to do to prove it... if he could, he would have cried. Instead, he had nightmares. Black, horrible nightmares reminding him what he was doing, supposedly for the good cause. The terrible death eater would scream like a frightened child in his bed, knowing only too well he had to keep on the charade. He had to wait for the right moment. And then he would strike like a venomous snake, and he would strike to kill.

The last and final battle had left many scars. And on that horrid night, when the future of the world was balancing on a knife's edge, Severus showed his true colours. He had seemed faithful until the end. His master trusted him with his life, a mistake he would truly regret for what little time was granted to him. Severus played his part well. He was a death eater, the most horrifying of them all- protecting his master. On top of it all Severus was slowly steering his master towards the forbidden forest. Finally this evil creature would get what he deserved and Severus' soul was aching for it with burning desire. But then suddenly the situation had taken a spin Severus hadn't foreseen. At the very edge of the Forbidden Forrest Harry Potter had plunged forward, wand raised to attack his parents' murderer. An evil sneer appeared on Voldemort's inhuman face as he yelled the very curse that had killed the young man's parents.

"Avada Kedavra!" Time slowed down, Severus saw it all in slow motion, heard his own desperate voice screaming a countercurse that hit Potter in the chest and sent him flying backwards and into a tree. The sparkling green curse missed him by a few centimetres. Voldemort turned towards his unfaithful servant with a furious roar. Once more he raised his wand, this time Severus was the target. But before he even could open his mouth a new sparkle of bright green shot through the air, hitting the ghostlike man in the stomach. Any normal human being would have hit the ground dead as a herring. But Voldemort had stopped being "normal" many years ago. The curse still was deadly, his heart slowed down, his blood stopped flowing around in his veins, but with his final gasps of breath he raised his wand one last time as a horrifying sneer appeared on his face.

"Legravata Simouron!" A bright red light hit Severus in the chest and sent him staggering backwards with Voldemort's laughter ringing in his ears. But then the laughter turned to fury and a dawning realisation appeared in the dying man's eyes.

"You... and Potter!! So you're gonna steal.. my future.. from me too.." Severus doubled over in pain as a staggering sensation ripped through his stomach. He had many wounds from the last few days' fighting, but this pain was worse than anything he had imagined. But he raised his head so that he could see his master in the eyes as he died. He wanted to see the fear and despair in the foul creature's eyes. Sadly Voldemort didn't grant him that pleasure.

"Have.. a shining.. future... with your soul.. mate, Severus! I see it in you... it's already.. growing.." Finally his heart stopped beating and the old man collapsed on the ground, dead. Severus staggered towards Harry Potter. The young man was laying beside the tree, face down. His body was aching and he was sure it was due to the curse cast on him seconds ago. Lagravata Simouron.. this was a curse he'd never heard of before, but he was sure he would suffer plenty from it. It had been cast by Voldemort after all. He knelt beside the passed out man beside the tree and rolled him over on his back. Beautiful overheroic Potter. He lifted the man and carried him back to Hogwarts. By the gate of the school he was hit in the back of his head with something heavy and passed out. As he'd been pretending to be Voldemort's servant he had as many enemies as his master. He woke up in the medical wing three days later, suffering from a bad contusion and numerous bruises and cuts, ironically inflicted to him by the very people he was protecting. If it hadn't been for Harry Potter waking up a few minutes after Severus had been knocked down, the angry attackers would probably have killed Severus in cold blood. Some heroes welcome...

His name had been evidently cleared and the Daily Prophet had even wrote a few lines about him. Severus slowly recovered and returned to work a month later. It was first when he went down to his private quarters that night that he remembered the curse cast on him on that faithful night four weeks ago. Legravata Simouron.. He should be dead. So why wasn't he? What curse could possibly be worse than the ones stopping your heart from beating? Severus got a worried frown on his face as he hurried to the school library to find out.

The book fell to the floor with a loud bang. Severus clutched a hand at his chest as he staggered down the rows of bookshelf trying to find the way out, panic ringing in his ears. He knew what was worse than death...


Now, he tried to act his old self, but his snide and spitting remarks had no longer the sharp edge and his furious and intimidating looks were reduced to the tired and weary face of a man loosing a battle. Most people thought this was lord Voldemort who'd finally scared some sense into him at last. He could even trace pity in some people's faces, and that's what scared him more than anything. He deserved no pity.

He had thought of leaving it all behind, of course, but here the sheer genius of Voldemort's last spell showed itself at its fullest. He couldn't leave even if he tried. Fate had woven too tight a net for him to escape. He had only to wait for the day it all would be revealed and the boy, who today had become a young man, would know the destiny set before him. Of course Severus had destroyed every chance of this relationship ever growing and evolving toward something beautiful and cherished. The boy had grown resentful and loathing to the man the stars had set out to be his soul mate.

He didn't know the true Snape, and who was to say if Snape could ever shatter the image he so carefully had built over the last twenty years as a spy. No one knew the kindness that lived inside him, in fact not even Severus did. He had played his role to the fullest, and this would prove to be at a greater cost than he would have ever imagined. The only man who knew part of Severus' history and charade was Albus Dumbledore. His trust and help through the years were the only thing that had kept Severus sane. But even Albus couldn't help him with this... no one could. Like a rabbit caught in a snare, Severus was waiting for the end.


Time for double potions with last year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Five months had passed since the last and final battle, which had led to the Dark Lord's fall. A lot of things had changed since then. For one, no one doubted any longer on which side Severus was. He had suffered some great losses and had been badly hurt in the battle against his old master. He had even needed a whole month in the hospital wing to recover. Not that anyone had missed him or anything. Even if he had received flowers and a visit from the young man his heart so secretly desired. He had saved his life once more and of course the young man was well aware of that. But the visit had ended as raptly as it had begun. Instead of showing the young man how much he had cherished the visit, he more or less had thrown him out of the room, screaming that he needed rest. The final nail in the coffin.

Amongst the Slytherin students some had fallen to the dark path of lord Voldemort. Crabbe and Doyle would end their lives screaming like infants in the dark halls of Azkaban. Draco Malfoy had turned to the light at the last minute, loosing both his parents in the process. Indeed there had been great losses and many broken families. Add to that the fact that the Slytherins had to live with the stamp of being untrustworthy carved on their forehead. Many who had fought on the dark lord's side had claimed they had been forced to do so, being caught under the imperius-spell. No one believed them, though. There were still many wounds that needed mending, but still life had to go on.

He looked down the rows of students, wishing he were back in his private quarters, in his bed. A cold sweat appeared on his forehead revealing to the students that it would be another excruciating two hours with a sick teacher pretending everything was just fine. In an earlier class he had been seconds away from vomiting all over the place before the bell rang. He had managed to keep it together though, as during many lessons before this one. He had been hoping the nausea had just been the flue, but now it had lasted more than three months and Severus was no longer able to hide it. He was paler than ever and had to take breaks during his lessons, something he'd never done before. Both students and teachers could plainly see that something was going on, but if anyone asked him Severus would blow them off, telling them he was just fine. He'd even heard there was a rumour travelling around about him being bulimic. He only hoped they would stick to that conclusion.

Hermione had been pestering him for a long time about how pale and tired he was looking. And sure enough, there it was, her hand flying up in the air- this lesson would be no exception. He simply nodded with a slight frown on his forehead, trying to look intimidating.

"Professor, Snape- you look sick. Don't you think you should be in bed resting?" Her voice was barely reaching his ears, she obviously knew what response she would get.

"I'm fine, Miss Granger! How amusing it ever is, the way you worry about my health in every single class, I'm getting tired about your pestering! Ten points off Gryffindor!"

Low growls could be heard from the rows of angry Gryffindors. Maybe she had got the message this time, but he doubted it. That girl cared too much about his wellbeing. He suddenly caught the eye of Harry Potter. The young man, eighteen years old, his soul mate. His eyes were burning with rage as always when one of his kind was stepped on. A smirk curled Severus' lip and made him look truly sadistic for a second. What a life he'd made for himself! He was one of few, destined for great love, and instead of claiming what was rightfully his he'd done something decent for a change, he'd let the boy be.

Even despite the fact that the boy would have loved him, even from young age, Severus had set him free. He was no monster. But now the clock was ticking, his clothes getting tighter and Harry was soon to face the nightmare of his life. By Harry's side sat Ron Weasly, his sidekick and best friend who looked as angry as Harry.

"I don't know why you bother Mione, he's just not worth it!" It had just been a low growl, never intended for the professor's ears, but Ron wasn't aware his teacher had no problem with reading lips. His stomach turned. A wave of nausea ran through him and Severus had to grab the edge of his desk not to fall down.

"Indeed, Weasly!" he gulped as the room started to spin around him: "I'm not worth it." No! He had to keep it back! Severus braced himself and closed his eyes for a second.

"Professor.. are you all right?" It was Potter's voice. He sounded concerned.

"I'm. I'm fine.. I tell you!" Severus barked and lost the last of his control. He vomited all over the floor behind his desk. All became a blur. He knew nothing but shame as he heard Ron getting rid of the other students while Hermione and Harry came to help him. Somehow they got him to his private quarters and to bed. He couldn't catch a word of what they were saying, to ashamed of himself to care about anything but his self loathing at the moment. He'd lost control in front of a class! And of all classes, the class with Harry Potter in it! How he was to survive the next four months was beyond him. And after that.. Severus closed his eyes and tried to shut it all out.