WARNING: HBP SPOILERS!

Blood On His Hands

They said he was obsessed with Draco Malfoy.

This is not the same.

He admits he was obsessed with Malfoy, the one he almost killed, the one who tried to kill Dumbledore and failed, the one he caught crying and answered his tears with a potentially fatal blow.

This is not the same.

He was obsessed with Malfoy.

He lives and breathes Severus Snape.

The itch is at the back of his mind every hour of every day: find the Horcruxes, find Voldemort, kill the Dark Lord, find Severus Snape and �

Harry is beginning to wonder if he isn�t turning a little mad. If Voldemort was what started him on this path of mild insanity, then Snape is surely driving him 'round the twist of it.

Snape haunts him at night, haunts his dreams, his thoughts, his scrabbling grip on reality. He must do this, must do that, he must; he must; he must.

If this is what expectation is, if this is his world to bear on his shoulders, then it pales to everything he had to do before. Everyone � everything � depends on him, now, and Harry has never found himself more alone.

The hunt for the Horcruxes is a daunting task and Harry secretly wishes, late at night when he�s huddled in bed and shivering, that he could turn and leave and never come back, and let Voldemort take over the world and be done with it and just leave Harry alone. But that will never happen, Harry knows, because he�s can�t live while Voldemort is alive and vice versa, and it�s not like a truce is going to work, is it?

The hunt for Snape, on the other hand, seems a far more appealing and somewhat easier task, even though Harry has even less of an idea of where to start, but, unlike destroying Voldemort, he has the motivation, desire, and thirst for vengeance.

Hunt him down, hurt him, make him bleed, watch him die, revenge Dumbledore, hurt him, hurt him, HURT HIM.

Harry should probably be worried with his new obsession. He can�t bring himself to care.

At night, when the moon is dying and only silence surrounds him, Harry grips the photo album Hagrid gave him full of photos of his parents and whispers, over and over, �I�ll find him. I�ll find him, I swear, and I�ll� I�ll make him pay for what he did, I swear.� The words, almost twisted prayers, echo in the silent room and Harry grips the faded photo album tighter in white-knuckled hands.

Snape haunts him, drives him mad, lingers in his dreams as Harry tosses in bed, grimacing from the pain of a suddenly aching scar and a refreshed link. Jumbled images tumble through his mind, too quick for him to decipher, and the frustration almost destroys him because he knows the location of Snape and the Horcruxes could be anywhere in these images, and Harry simply isn�t good enough at anything to succeed.

Snape. Snape. Snape.

He�ll find him. He will, and when he does�

Severus Snape can run, but he can�t hide, not forever. He�s Harry�s now, he just doesn�t know it yet, and he better hope that he won�t be alone when Harry does find him.

Harry Potter doesn�t forgive.

Harry Potter doesn�t forget.

Harry will find him. He has to.

He has no other choice; there is no other way, as the spectres of his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore continually remind him when the moon dies and the darkness lingers in his room.

This is his destiny, even more than killing Voldemort.

Severus Snape has far too much blood on his hands to remain free.