Severus Snape folded his black robe carefully and then put it precisely at the end of the bed where it would be ready for morning. He sat down on a chair and slipped off first his left and then right sock. He then folded them as well and put them on top of the robe. Each action was exact and routine.

Walking to the bathroom of his hotel room, Severus combed through his black hair and brushed his teeth. When he was done, the man looked at his reflection. His eyes were haunted and determined, his skin jaundice and eyes red. He looked like a shadow of Voldemort and the thought made his shudder in revulsion.

Harry Potter was getting closer, tracking him throughout the Americas. The boy had taken Dumbledore's death hard and Severus was not surprised to find himself the subject of the boy's hatred. It was only natural, after all, he had been the one to speak the killing curse. It was that green colored spell that haunted his dark eyes.

Leaving the bathroom, Severus finished preparing for bed.

- - -

Harry Potter sat on the park bench, waiting for the right time to strike. He had been following his former teacher - the murdering bastard! - for weeks. They were currently in a small town in South America.

The hotel where Severus was suppose to be staying was three short blocks away and Harry wanted to give the man a chance to get settled in for the night. No reason to be predictable. Harry snarled at the night and threw his head back. He looked up at the heavens, filled with twinkling dots and diamond miracles. The beauty of it almost distracted him from the rage that burned inside of him.

Almost.

Never entirely. No, that would happen only when Severus Snape was dead and buried.

- - -

The door to Snape's hotel room burst open with a flash of brilliant aqua light. Harry stood in the darkened doorway, wand raised, and mouth ready to form the words that would kill.

The room was empty. A note lay on the center of the bed and Harry grabbed it, wanting to burn it instead of reading, but unable to destroy the one piece of proof that he was on the right trail.

 Harry Potter, the note read, Better luck next time...You need to work on your tailing. -S.S.

Harry crumpled the note in his hand and then threw it on the ground. A muttered word later and it burst into violent flames.

“You wait, Severus Snape, I'll catch you!” Harry whispered fiercely.

He turned and walked away. Tomorrow would be another chance to catch the murderer. Tomorrow might make the beauty stronger than the anger. Harry did not feel the single tear that slipped down his cheek.