Another Rung on the Ladder

Epilogue

I know what I must do, and if I hesitate, it's only because I'm frightened. Not of my task in itself, but of what it might bring.

The morning was sunny and warm, but Severus Snape's face was dark as he walked down the street from King's Cross. He was walking deep in memories, paying no heed to the people all around him except to here and there apply an elbow to an unwary stomach as he pushed his way through the crowds.

It had been a long time since he had thought of Peter now. For ten years he had taught at Hogwarts, ten years after the fall of Voldemort... and he had almost forgotten. But then Harry Potter had started at the school - Harry, who looked just like his father, moved just like his father, even laughed like his father... albeit with delight rather than malice. He had expected Harry to become popular, with a band of followers, the brightest of them all. But the boy didn't become a new James.

Snape had given much thought, over the years, as to what it was that made a star. He'd seen school classes come and go, and he'd watched them all closely. He had seen children who were beautiful, clever, funny, talented, kind... and he'd seen that to be the most admired, you had to have something else. Ruthlessness was one thing that helped, certainly, but what really made the difference was something he believed was called charisma. Something he had never had.

Harry Potter lacked it, as well. But he seemed happy, satisfied with his two close friends and his limited fame in the Gryffindor Tower. He shouldn't begrudge the boy this, Snape knew it.

And yet... every time he looked at Harry, he saw Harry's father instead, the boy who had taken his friend from him. But it wasn't James's fault, was it? To please James, Peter had betrayed and made fun of Snape - but James hadn't asked for it. Snape had hated him with all of his heart only because the human mind needs someone to carry the blame, and he couldn't hate Peter. No matter how hard he tried.

If I am to be fair, he thought wryly, I suppose I should hate the pecking order of schools, of society, for forcing a boy to send his friend to the wolves in order to secure his own survival. It shouldn't be like that, the game of popularity being one of life or death...

His arm throbbed suddenly with pain, and he clutched at it desperately, gasping out for air. Around him the early workers walked on, too busy with their own lives to spare a thought for anyone else. And after a moment or two the pain passed again, as suddenly as it had come. Snape smiled mirthlessly as he slowly straightened up again.

Should I hate Peter after all? He is the reason my mind aches with the threats of the Dark Lord...

He had left Severus, and more importantly Snivellus, behind when he left school. He had left his past life behind and started anew, giving only the name Snape and hiding his weaknesses far beneath the surface where they wouldn't ever be found. To forget his school days forever, never letting it drag him down again - that was his goal. But he had met Peter again. When just enough time had passed for Snape to start wondering if the Peter that had betrayed him wasn't just a small part of the boy he had known back then, if the Peter he had come to like wasn't the real Peter... then they had met again. Peter had talked about his new friend, with power enough to let even them have a share. And the Peter talking had had bitten fingernails but a smile that sometimes made him beautiful.

This is the real Peter, thought Severus Snape, and thought that he had found his friend again.

Snape smiled at his folly, back then when he had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters. He had believed so deeply in that phantom, the figment of his imagination he called the real Peter, and he had gone with him to become a Death Eater. They stood next to each other as the mark burned into their flesh; they shared the pain and said the oaths together. But so quickly, it got out of hand. The eyes of Muggles wide with fear, children screaming and mothers begging for mercy. From warnings to cruelty to terror to murder. And Peter never stopped smiling.

The real Peter was not only a cold planner; he was not only a nervous boy with a happy smile. He was both, and they both strove for dominion.

But Snape couldn't hate Peter. He wouldn't know which one to hate, for a start. The one that craved love and respect so badly he'd do anything to achieve his goal - or the one that planned how to get it?

Snape stood quite still in the street, ignoring the jostling people all around him. He felt suddenly peaceful. The one they had called the Dark Lord, the one they had bowed before and sworn allegiance to, was back now. The murders would not stop at Muggles this time, but would go much further. And he of all people had the power to stop it, or at least to hinder.

Severus... you know what you must do.

Snape smiled to himself as he began walking again. Before, Peter had come to him. But this time, Snape would come to Peter.

THE END