A dimmed light upon the mantel flickered quietly, casting obscured shadows across the cold stone, and taunting shadows across his face.
Too much light highlighted more than Severus Snape could bear.
The gauntness of his hollow cheeks, devoured of nutrients. His sallow skin craving life. His cracked, dry lips, starved of fluids except the celebratory wine shared with his most hated hours ago. Darkness clouded his eyes - endless tunnels of emptiness of his own making.
He had to. The other option was a sentence worse than death, and he wasn't ready for that just yet.
The sharp quill scratched in sync with the ticking of the clock, passing time with each agonising breath as midnight approached with vigor. The office - once housing the great Albus Dumbledore - now became his only sanctuary.
Which Carrow would walk through the door, demanding his attention? What new victim would Greyback claim and ravish before his eyes? Which cry from a student would deafen his ears, helpless, and bound by duty?
His eyes had to remain empty. His heart as slow as his methodical breaths. Nothing behind his eyes could give himself away. There was no room for error, nor ill-judgement. Each enemy accepted as his colleagues, and those who fell under his unwanted reign as headmaster.
He would not surrender even if the aged stone of the Hogwarts walls crumbled before him.
Every breath - every sharp inhale and tremoring exhale - acted as a reminder of his life and why he was still here.
Why he was doing this. For her.
And yet, still - it would never be enough.
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