The Man Who Was Snape

Severus Snape snatched up his bottle and glass and made his way to his usual table at the rear of the dingy pub.
He passed the barman and patrons without comment or even acknowledgment, but they took no offense. When a young man decides to start drinking himself quietly to death, whose business is it anyway? One man's Galleon is as good as another's.

Dumbledore watched from beneath the invisibility cloak as Snape approached the booth. The younger man slid onto the bench across from him. They were now both protected by the charms and wards that had been so meticulously put into place.

"I hope I didn't keep you long." Snape's words were slightly slurred, he had already been drinking. Alcoholism was a part of Snape's cover, but in the three months that they had been meeting here, he had never before turned up drunk. Dumbledore didn't push. He was there to listen.
"Not at all, Severus, not at all."
Snape closed his eyes and organized his thoughts. He had gone over his report in his mind countless times. He had considered how to frame his tale in the most dramatic style. And why should he not? It was for his natural talent as an actor that they so valued him. He calmed himself. He was in control.

"There was a meeting at Malfoy's flat in St John's Wood.
"When I arrived, Regulus Black was there as well. Black seemed nervous, I don't think he knew what to expect. Malfoy was in his element -- 'Orders from on high', he tells us..."

Lucius casually tosses a large envelope onto the table."Familiarize yourselves."
As Malfoy turns to freshen his drink, Snape takes up the envelope and from it slides a photograph. He examines the paunchy face of an aging wizard who twitches nervously under such scrutiny. Snape passes it to Black.
"Carado--" whispers Black, but Malfoy raises a finger to the younger man's lips, silencing him. Regulus doesn't even blush. How well do they know each other?

Caradoc Dearborn -- acquaintance of Albus Dumbledore, author of the political tract "Protecting a Magical World," and probable member of the organization known as the Order of the Phoenix. Snape commits the address on the photograph's back to memory, and Malfoy throws it into the fireplace.
"Incendio!"
The wizard's face blackens on the paper and releases a silent howl before being consumed by fire. "Tonight. No evidence. Leave no trace. This is your right of passage, gentlemen." Lucius smiles.
Snape helps himself to a drink as Black and Malfoy share a quiet word. A last minute pep talk? Black puts his hand on Malfoy's arm. "I won't let you down." Is that it?

"Really? Poor Caradoc. Who would have thought it?" wondered Dumbledore aloud. "Was it to be at his home?"
"Yes. We took brooms. We left right after the meeting. I had no time to send a message..."
Dumbledore nodded and let Snape continue.

They land silently on the springy turf of the lawn. A quick reconnaissance tells them that the house is empty save for one man reading in the study. Dearborn, a notorious recluse, lives alone.
They creep up to the small servants' door. "Alohomora," Snape whispers, and the lock opens with a click.
"Severus, have you ever...Shall we use the killing curse?"

Snape looked into his glass as if watching the events unfold before him. As if he were another member of the audience.
Dumbledore frowned as he felt Snape's mind begin to cloud -- to close him out. Don't hide things from me, Severus, he implored silently.

The rubber soles of their shoes tread silently down the carpeted hall. They move towards the study, light pouring from beneath the door. Regulus is shaking and tightens his grip on his wand. It has to be now. Snape feels the anger well up inside himself, counteracting the fear. He calls up his hatred and prepares himself for the crime.
In an instant the door is opened. Caradoc Dearborn looks up from his papers in surprise. Black lifts his wand and points at the old man's heart. Snape steps in quickly behind him and wraps a hand over Regulus's mouth before driving a long thin knife blade just beneath the sternum up into the Death Eaters' chest. Black, you little bastard! The knife twists and tears the tissue of the heart. Snape holds the young man for a moment as the life struggles from his body.
Dearborn has his own wand out now. "Christ."
"I'm from the Order. For the love of God, help me, man!" Snape growls.
Regulus Black's corpse is gently lowered to the floor. The dead boy stares up at him. Severus doesn't close the eyes. He doesn't touch the body. He has killed the wrong Black.

"I've never killed anyone before, you know." The glass shook in Snape's hand. Did I need to kill this one? he asked himself. There must have been other ways. Did I enjoy it? What about what happened with Lucius? Did I enjoy that as well?
"There was no other way. I couldn't warn anyone." The wrong Black. The wrong Snape.
Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Had Regulus begun the killing curse?"
"I don't remember." An obvious lie. Severus Snape never forgot anything. And never forgave. Did Dumbledore know? Or was he just planning how to break it to Sirius? "It was very fast, I didn't have time to wait." One Black down, one to go.
Dumbledore regarded him silently for a moment, then as a man choosing his battles, softly said, "It is neither here nor there. Some things are unavoidable."
"I...I didn't..."
"What happened then, Severus?"

Malfoy opens the door and lets Snape in.
"Was there trouble? You were longer than I expected. I hope you haven't made a muddle of things...where's Regulus?"
Snape pushes past him into the room. He grabs a bottle and makes himself a drink. He barely finishes the first before he is pouring the second. No water. Calm yourself.
"He's dead."
Lucius takes out a cigarette and lights it.
"Oh," he replies coolly, and beneath his robe his hand rests against his wand.
"It was a failure then?"
"No," Snape laughs and turns to face Malfoy, "a success actually. No evidence. I'm afraid they'll be looking for quite a long time."
"But Black?" He's Black now. Already putting a distance between you?
"I killed him. He backed out at the last moment. Wanted to warn the old man off. Threatened to go to the Ministry. He went completely to pieces," Snape giggles. "He even cried."
"His body?" Lucius watches Snape finish his third glass and set it down. He reaches into his robe and removes a silk necktie which he tosses to Malfoy.
"Transfigured. Took me a try or two, only you see, I wanted to make sure it was black!"
Snape begins to laugh uncontrollably and for a moment Lucius joins him. He pockets the tie and takes a long drag on his cigarette before offering it to Snape.
"Take this. It will steady your nerves."
Snape take a few grateful puffs of the cigarette, its tip still wet with Malfoy's spit.
"The Dark Lord will be pleased." Lucius puts his hands on Snape's shoulders. "Consider yourself initiated."
Snape tenses but forces himself to relax. He gently disentangles himself from Malfoy who pours another glass.
"Sit down, Severus. Have another drink. I'm going to want you to tell me everything." Malfoy sits across from him and leans forward, He pats Snape's knee."You're shaking like a leaf, Severus! Never killed men before?" He laughs, but doesn't remove his hand.
Snape blushes and feels his skin crawl but he does nothing. It's all acting, it can't hurt you. Tell that to Black.
"No, this was my first time."
"Then I insist you tell me all about it. Tell me every little thing. I am a collector of first times." A predatory look fills Malfoy's eyes and he wets his lips.

"Where is Caradoc now?" asked Dumbledore suddenly.
"I don't know. We thought it best if he didn't tell me, in case...for security. I expect he will get in touch with you."
"Of course. You've done more than anyone could have expected of you, Severus."
"That's an understatement," sneered Snape. "Have you ever killed anyone, Dumbledore?"
"Yes, Severus, I have. Indeed, I have done worse things than kill a man and I fear I shall do them again. There is always something worse."

Lucius brushes his hand against Snape's cheek. It's only acting. This isn't real. Severus grabs the hand and presses it to his lips. This is happening to someone else. Not me. I'm not Severus Snape, I'm an actor. Don't let him touch me.

Snape began to cry, soundlessly at first. None of the bar patrons looked his way. The sight of a man sitting by himself and shedding a few tears into his drink was not an unfamiliar one.
"I can't just...do this anymore. I killed him! And Malfoy...I...he..." This doesn't feel real either. Am I acting?
"Dumbledore, I don't seem to know...who I am anymore," Snape laughed tiredly. Death Eater or member of the Order of the Phoenix. Killer or hero. I did enjoy killing him.

"You are Severus Snape."
"Yes, but who is he?"

And as the man who was Snape crumbled in front of him, Albus Dumbledore listened and waited. Severus was a valuable asset and like all valuable things needed to be handled carefully. He would recover. Dumbledore would wait until all the poison had drained out of the lad. Then they would begin again.

There were many things worse than killing a man.