Marching to Death's Door (Harry Potter)

Marching to Death's Door

Severus Snape's life was, what he considered, pathetic.

Utterly pathetic.

He was a very private person. Only Albus Dumbledore was aware of his love for Lilly Potter. The Order of the Phoenix, the arrogant group of light go-getters who took everything he did for granted. They didn't trust him. Well, most of them didn't. Molly Weasley trusted him. But that was mostly because Albus Dumbledore trusted him. Remus Lupin trusted him. That was because he had a guilt complex. Minerva McGonagall trusted him. That was because they worked together and she didn't want to deal with a new head of house for Slytherin next year.

At least that is what he assumed as he stumbled out of the Malfoy Manor, holding his side that had blood seeping into his black clothes. He gritted his teeth. Doing his best to ignore the pain of the latest insults, the Cruciatus curse, and having his own spell Sectumsempra used against him and other death eaters during the meeting.

He was a complete and utter fool.

He was being overworked all week. Thanks to the dunderheads running around the school, teachers constantly on the verge of mental breakdown every time Umbridge stepped into the staff room, or really any room in general, and the Dark Lord's ridiculous time-consuming requests for potions that take one day but he expects them in two hours.

This is why he was currently limping away from the large mansion. He stood in front of the dark mansion with a scowl. He failed to bring the dark lord his stupid torture potions and paid the price. He lied. Telling him he was still in the process of brewing them when a meeting was called. The truth of the matter was that he hadn't even started yet.

Voldemort expected them in three hours. Three bloody hours. It would take him at least one day to brew two of them. Two more days to brew the last one. At times like that, he welcomed death. Even slow death.

He had a strange dreading feeling that Voldemort was secretly aware of his...Other duties to Dumbledore. That he was the reason several of his attacks on Muggles were abruptly ended by the Order before the Death Eaters could even make it to the victim's front door.

Maybe that is why he was pushing him to the edge? Hoping his mind would spill out information when he least expected it for Voldemort to use against him. He wouldn't doubt it. It happened to many others before him.

They died slowly. The last things they ever saw were two red soulless eyes and the cackling laugh of pure evil looming above them.

He didn't pity the dead. He pitied the living. He pitied the death eaters, like Lucius Malfoy that didn't dare make a move against Voldemort because of how much of a coward he was. He pitied Carrow's siblings who were too stupid to realize how pointless the cause they supported was. He pitied Draco Malfoy who wasn't even a fully-fledged death eater but still blindly followed orders because he was only trained to do one thing. Become a death eater. He didn't know what else to do with his life. He pitied every death eater because their lives became so miserable and pathetic that they drove themselves into self-destruction by following the most selfish evil wizard of all time.

Severus Snape disapparated from the dark mansion where screams started to echo out at the sounds of another innocent muggle being tortured to death for the third time that night.

---

Molly Weasley was stress cleaning. Under normal circumstances, she would leave it to magic to do her duties but she needed to do something. Anything. She started to block out the rambling of Sirius Black, who she considered a good acquaintance and was thankful he let them use his home as a headquarters but found far too much enjoyment of living his old childhood days by insistently pestering Severus Snape about his loyalties despite everything the poor man had done for them.

She told everyone she trusted Snape because of Dumbledore. That was only half the truth. She did trust him because of Dumbledore but she was also one of the few people who noticed how much he was suffering during the meetings. Mostly physical suffering but even an idiot could notice that Snape was severely depressed and malnourished.

They were all waiting for him to return from a death eater meeting for reports on Voldemort's next movements. Sirius wouldn't stop insulting Snape with their stupid childhood nickname the Mauraders branded him with and going on and on about his lack of Loyalty. Dumbledore and Moody simply sat beside him at the large table in the middle of the kitchen. Moody occasionally scoffed but Dumbledore seemed to flinch every time Sirius said "Snivellus."

Remus was leaning against one of the door frames of the two doors that lead into the kitchen. He respected Snape much more than Sirius ever would. He genuinely felt awful about the way the Marauders treated him in their childhood days and often discouraged Sirius from mentioning the nickname and defended Snape on numerous occasions. He was one of the few that knew Snape was hurt every time he returned thanks to his sense of smell from being a werewolf.

Minerva McGonagall was one of the very few people that were considered friends of Snape. They did have a rivalry at school but often got together on Friday nights to talk about random events and really anything they wanted to discuss in front of a large fireplace in the staff room. Minerva was now pacing at the other entrance of the kitchen. Occasionally glancing at the fireplace where she expected Snape to Floo in before continuing to walk back and forth with worry written in her expression.

Suddenly the front door slammed loudly. Making everyone jump in their spots when a cloaked figure with a scowl entered. Snape came in with a scowl, shaking slightly, limping and Molly noticed his hand was clutching the side of his stomach underneath his black robes. They moved slightly to allow her to see his hand was covered in blood and his black clothes were shiny from the pooling blood.

"Severus. Please, join us." Dumbledore said in that fatherly tone as he gestured to one of the empty seats at the table. "Do you have anything to report?"

Molly was able to throttle Dumbledore. She respected the man. But sometimes he was a complete idiot when it came to Snape. He was clearly injured and barely able to keep his eyes open. But he still sat down and gave the headmaster an expression that didn't reveal anything of his inner pain.

"I believe the Dark Lord suspects my loyalties lie elsewhere, headmaster," Snape said. Sirius scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Trying to get out of the job, Snivellus? Once a coward, always a co-"

Molly promptly whacked Sirius with her wet wash cloth to make him shut up. Usually Snape, even at his worst, would come up with a sarcastic but to-the-point insult to come back. Which would start another argument that Molly would really rather not hear for the hundredth time.

This time, however, Snape gave him a weak glare before looking back to the headmaster. He opened his mouth to speak again when he cringed and his hand that clutched his stomach was grabbed by his other hand.

"He is calling you again, isn't he? The meeting only just ended..." Dumbledore said with great concern.

"Like I said. I have suspicions he suspects me. He has moved up our next meeting." Snape gritted his teeth and increased his grip on his arm. "I may not come back, Headmaster."

"You can't just let him kill you!" Molly finally spoke up with tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Everyone looked over to her in shock.

"I don't exactly have a choice about the matter." Snape retorted as he slowly pushed himself up from the chair that now had blood dripping to the floor.

"If he does know you are a spy..." Remus said slowly.

"Then I die." Snape replied like it didn't matter. Like his life didn't matter at all. That made Molly even angrier. How could no one care? He did more for the Order than half of its members and they are just-

Snape swiftly left the room. Minerva, Remus, and Molly looked over to Dumbledore with the silent protests of hope. Silently begging him to stop the potions Professor. Dumbledore shook his head and looked up to them with tearful blue eyes that no longer held their signature hopeful twinkle.

"I am sorry. There is nothing I can do." He whispered as the front door slammed shut from the leaving occupant.

Molly slumped to the table and buried her face in her hands as her body shook from silent sobs. Even Sirius Black looked a little remorseful.

---The End---