Dumbledore could remain unmoved for the sake of gain, Grindelwald could watch coldly as he pursued his plans, and Anthony could stay detached just to enjoy the show, but Snape couldn't!
Yes, there had never been that much in life for him to strive for.
Those bigwigs could forget the pain the war had brought, ignore all those shattered feelings and broken lives, but Snape couldn't forget.
Countless people had died in that battle—not just Lily, not just those detestable Potters, not just the companions who had once shared his desire to follow the Dark Lord and change the world.
Snape couldn't say he had been right, but he had never thought he was wrong, either.
The Aurors who had fought for the Ministry of Magic, the wizards who had fought for the ideals of the Order of the Phoenix, the Saints, the Death Eaters—they had all simply fought for the lofty ideals they held in their hearts.
And as for whether their methods had been cruel, had the companions who shared his ideals and were killed by Order of the Phoenix members died comfortably?
This world had never been so full of right and wrong. People simply wanted different things.
Severus Snape had once longed for love. He had once longed to pursue his Faith alongside others, to change the world and earn great acclaim.
But it had all been like a bubble, bursting and vanishing in the end.
Love had become an insubstantial, unbearable pain with nowhere to go, and the faith of the past had turned into hatred from the depths of his heart.
And so, only one thing remained that Snape wanted.
Voldemort had to die!
It had nothing to do with some great cause. He simply wanted Voldemort dead, nothing more!
So he drank Polyjuice