It was the day after.

It might as well have been the week, the month or the year after.

Harry certainly felt like time had stopped. Like every minute since yesterday had been as long as a day.

Sirius was dead.

A small word. Four letters. The forth letter in the alphabet. The fifth. The first. And the forth again. D-e-a-d. Dead. It would mean nothing to someone who could not read. It was just a word.

And Harry could not comprehend it. Sirius had just fallen through the veil, nothing more. It did not have to mean that he was... You know.

All the different beautifications he had heard flashed before him.

Fallen in battle.

Gone to meet his maker.

Deceased.

Pushing up daisies.

Resting in peace.

In peace? Perhaps.

The Dursleys had never taken him to church. They themselves had gone, about once every year, as it was expected of them to do. Harry had heard of God, and heaven and hell in school. They had been taught the stories in the bible, how God created the world in seven days, Adam and Eve, Noah, Joseph, and all the others. Jesus Christ and his death. How he had come back to life after three days.

Harry knew the stories as well as anyone else. He just had not thought of them since he started Hogwarts. He wondered if anyone prayed here. If they believe in something.

If witches and wizards went to heaven, if there was such a place.

If Sirius would be let in.

”Mr. Potter. You are, I'm quite sure, aware of the curfew imposed on students at this school?”

It was Snape, of course. That... that murderer. He could have taught Harry occulumency, he had just wanted revenge, it was his fault!. The rage filled Harry, and he was certain that if any one in this entire world deserve to go to hell, it would be Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School.

”Do you believe in God, Professor?” Harry spat, without even meaning to.

”Potter, if I had the time for philosohical discussions, I will certainly remember to ask you. Get to your dorm, or I will give you detention.” Snape turned around to leave.

”I want an answer! Do you believe in something, anything, or has your master taken all of that out of you?” Harry sneered, beyond caring about detentions, school rules or laws. ”Perhaps that's what you believe in. Him.”

Snape stopped, and Harry could jut picture his jaw clenching, even though the only thing he could see was Snape's greasy hair.

”You, Potter, have no right to make such assumptions, especially since you and all of your little friends would be dead if I hadn't called for the order to save you,” Snape said in a deadly calm voice.

”We were doing fine! I hope there is a hell, and that you'll be the first one to go there!” Harry's voice broke, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat.

”God is man's creation. There is no Hell worse than that on earth, and no heaven either. Surely you've realized this by now, Potter?”

Harry was dumbstruck.

”My father taught me all I needed to know about religion, and the Dark Lord what I didn't need to know,” Snape continued. ”You want me to go to Hell, Potter. I've been there. I've also been to heaven.”

For a second, Snape paused, then smirked.

”My heaven, Potter, is every second I spent with your mother. Since she died, I've been in Hell. Everyday.”

With that, he left.

Even though Harry could not understand Snape's words, did not want to understand them, he got some consolation from the fact that he was not the only one consumed by grief at Hogwarts that night.