In a secluded cottage, away from the hustle of the wizarding world, Snape sat hunched over like a specter haunting the dimly lit room. His sallow features were gaunt, etched deep with lines of sorrow and regret. Surviving the Battle of Hogwarts offered him no solace, only the suffocating weight of guilt and grief.

Memories of lost loved ones swirled through his mind in vivid anguish - Lily's emerald eyes lifeless and Dumbledore's pleading gaze as he struck the fatal blow. His brilliant intellect, once a source of pride and power, now felt clouded with despair.

Snape was a broken man, a shell with no path forward after completing his duty. The bone-deep wounds time could never heal. As those familiar self-destructive thoughts crept in yet again, urging him to finally end his lifelong torment, the echo of approaching footsteps caused his hollow, shadowed eyes to flick up in surprise.

A familiar presence drew near and his hand twitched reflexively towards his wand before falling still, resigning himself to this unwanted intrusion with indifference.

"How did you find me?" he rasped, hostility laced through the gravelly words.