In front of him was St. Mungo’s and this time Harry felt no resentment or fear. Not even guilt. Just hope.

He took a deep breath and paced up to the fourth floor. It was obviously lunch break, so no patients walked towards him, disturbing him. Poppy Pomfrey came running out of the staff room. “I knew you would come back. You always do.” Her smile was appreciative and she opened Snape’s door.

The potion told Harry to insist on privacy this time. “Give me three hours. I think I can get him back.” Pomfrey nodded and closed the door. Harry pointed the Elder Wand at it and locked it. “Impenetrabilis” he muttered, and although he had never even heard of the spell,  it felt right.

He rushed to Snape’s bed and pulled his chair close to it. Remembering the potion Slughorn gave him, he grabbed Snape’s chin and poured it down his throat. Snape swallowed it, but apart from that he showed no other reaction.

The Elder wand pointed to Snape’s temple, he whispered, “Legilimens,” and entered.

At first he saw nothing but blackness and felt lost, but something told him to keep moving until he was stopped abprubtly by a wall. Still not seeing anything, he felt it and it was cold and metallic. Maybe he had to wait for the potion to work and soften them? Felix told him to be patient, so he waited. After a while, it felt as if the material of the wall was deteriorating. The surface wasn’t quite as smooth anymore and felt a little brittle.

“Bombarda” he thought and before he knew he had cast a spell, the wall crumpled and then fell apart. Harry concentrated hard and suddenly knew which memories to show Snape.

He showed him how he watched Snape’s last memories in the Pensieve and then walked, his heart pounding hard against his chest, into Voldemort’s hands. He showed him his conversation with Dumbledore in King’s Cross. He showed him how he came back. How Narcissa proclaimed his death. Showed him the battle. And his final words to Voldemort. Showed him Voldemorts death. The destrucion of all the Horcruxes. And then he tried to show him his last memory in Gringotts. But as soon as the memory had gotten to the point where Harry reached the portrait, he felt himself pushed out. Finally, Snape showed a reaction, but Harry wasn’t able to show him what his parents had said. Even though Snape wasn’t in control as usual and Harry could have kept going, he accepted and left Snape’s mind.

His head was hurting as the memories were dissipating, not the piercing pain he had experienced when his scar hurt, but thumping, as if someone was trying to hammer it open.

Harry let out a groan of pain and fell on the floor. Desperately massaging his temples, he looked up to Snape who was staring at him furiously.

“Potter. Why did you do that?” he demanded. His voice sounded hoarse and Harry wondered if Nagini had damaged the Potion Master’s vocal cords.

Before he could indulge in these thoughts any further, he felt himself pinned against the wall. Snape’s glare was almost murderous.

“I-I tried to get you back…” Harry muttered and blinked confused. Felix didn’t tell him to do anything.

“Why? To help you cope?”

Harry tried to shake his head, but the potion didn’t let him. It was, after all, one of the reasons why he had agreed. Luckily, Felix gave another nudge and Harry knew which direction to go.

“P-Professor…” he stuttered. It was hard to breathe, because Snape grabbed his collar so hard. “You don’t want to die,” he said a little more confidently. “You might have noticed that my parents will still be married in the afterlife. Either you watch them snog into eternity or you come back.”

Snape turned even paler and his mask was expressionless. The black orbs were glaring at him with a now unfathomable expression and Harry wondered if Snape was even more dangerous without his occlumency shields. “Too far, Potter,” he hissed and the grip tightened, but Harry thought he could see a moment of doubt in his Professor’s eyes. That was enough to encourage him to keep going.

He licked his lips nervously and continued. “I think you might have missed the last memory I was going to show you… My dad said that he would have done the same if he was in your shoes. You were forced in a position where you had to trade lives… and my mum said sorry for not being a good friend and that she forgives you and…”

Harry searched for something in the older man’s eyes when he felt the grip around his collar loosening. Snape seemed to be trying to find out if Harry was speaking the truth. The weight distribution oddly changed and for a moment it seemed as if Snape used him to keep himself from falling. “And” Harry continued, “she said that… she hasn’t forgotten.”

Snape drew in a sharp breath and broke the eye contact. Harry suddenly felt very uncomfortable again.

“Get out.”

What should probably have sounded like a command came out like a plea.

Harry felt Snape’s hands tremble on his neck and for a moment he feared that the Professor’s knees would give way underneath him. As if in slow motion, Harry removed them from his collar and slowly placed his own on the man’s shoulder and squeezed it slightly. It was painful watching him to try and regain his composure, but Harry knew he couldn’t yet leave.

The man’s whole body and everything around him was shaking so violently that Harry’s teeth clattered and the room started rattling. Harry was sorely reminded of one of his childhood outbreaks that caused windows to smash and books fly out of shelves. Harry quickly conjured a chair and pushed Snape into it. He wasn’t exactly sure if the Professor’s reaction was a good sign or not, but Harry thought it must be better than nothing at all.

Harry felt the lucky potion wear off and wondered how long this had taken. It must have been hours. His formerly loathed Professor, the person he used to hate most, right after Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew, was slumped forward in that cold, grey hospital chair, shaking uncontrollably.

He held his stomach and before Harry could worry if he was going to vomit, he was sick all over the floor. Harry cast a quick scourgify to clean up the mess and noticed that Snape flinched… flinched from that spell.

Harry got the other chair and sat down opposite to him. He rummaged for something in his bag, conjured two glasses and filled them with the Muggle Whiskey Slughorn had given him. Harry didn’t really like alcohol, apart from the occasional butterbeer, but he gathered this was an appropriate occasion and it was supposed to act like an antidote.

“Hey,” he said and it seemed to take a lifetime before Snape reacted and looked up, his black eyes bloodshot. But completely dry. “Want some?”

The Potions Master lowered his head again and supported it with his hands as if it was too heavy. His black hair covered his face completely.

“That potion…” Snape’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Erm,” Harry started, “Slughorn gave me it today. He said he invented it himself and it worked on Dumbledore…”

After several minutes, and without looking up, Snape held out one hand to accept the glass. He drank it in one gulp and Harry quickly refilled. The second one disappeared just as fast, but Harry refilled it again.

“Just go, Potter,” Snape slurred. “It’s about time you make a life for yourself.”

Harry peered uncomfortably at the bottle. Half of it was already gone, but it seemed to have worked a little.

“Same goes for you, sir.”

Harry seemed to see Snape shaking his head slightly, but he wasn’t sure. He waited patiently. Words seemed to take a while to reach the usually quick-witted professor.

With a sigh, he refilled both glasses and passed one over to Snape who emptied it just as fast as he had the others.

“Sir, I’m sorry about breaking into the Pensieve. Back in my fifth year I mean. I thought you were keeping information from me about Voldemort, you know and I... I kept seeing that door in my dreams and wanted to know what was behind it…” he trailed off. “I reckon I wasn’t quite myself. I also… well… I realised that it was your job to protect me and I didn’t make it easy…”

Snape didn’t show any reaction and Harry wasn’t even sure if he had heard him.

“I wish I had known more… you know, maybe…” Harry didn’t know what to say.

“Maybe what?” Snape demanded and Harry startled a little in his seat.

“I don’t know.”

“You, Potter… You are the personification of all my failures and miseries. You look so much like your father. But seeing those eyes every single day… and the scar… and everything you stand for. Your presence is almost physically painful.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I know.”

Snape threw his arms up in resignation. Or surrender. It was a completely unfamiliar gesture.

“Potter’s son, Lily’s son… apologising. It is so absurd, I cannot…”

“I know.”

Snape glared at him, but then his distant gaze fell on the wand.

“I wanted to destroy it…” Harry said hastily.

The Potions Master snorted and a sarcastic smile appeared on his face.

“That is the first sensible thing I have heard you say in a long time.”

“I think I should leave now,” Harry said nervously.

“Yes,” was Snape’s only remark.

“I’ll send Madame Pomfrey in." Snape didn’t react, or even look up to him. He just sat back down on the chair, supporting his head with his hands.

He wasn’t able to open the door. The locking charm he had performed with the Elder Wand came as a quick idea to him. Felix Felicis had completely worn off by now. Snape pointed his wand at the door and it flew open. Harry left without another word.

Suddenly feeling very tired, he approached the staff room and knocked. Madame Pomfrey opened.

“He’s awake,” was the only thing Harry could think of. Pomfrey beamed.

“Well done Mr. Potter. We knew you would be able to…”

Harry brushed her comment off tiredly and said: “It was pure luck. Professor Slughorn gave me a couple of potions so that I could get through.”

“You never take credit for anything, do you?”

“Not when I don’t deserve it, no.”

Madame Pomfrey shook her head, gave him a huge smile and hurried towards Snape’s door.