Severus Snape did not want to get out of bed. He lay there staring at the ceiling, emptiness filling his body, as if he were not even there at all, just a shell of the man he had been but a day before. It had taken two years for him to open up and let Harry in, and only seconds to realize that his son had been stolen from him so cruelly. He had replayed the scene he had found the day before in his mind all night as he lay in bed unable to sleep. He had not seen Harry die, but he might as well have. He would never be able to get the image out of his mind of Ron and Draco holding each other on the cave floor next to the lake, soaking wet and sobbing. Never. This was one thing a parent should never have to endure. Suddenly he felt sympathy for Molly and Arthur Weasley, whom he had come upon in a fourth floor corridor after the battle the day before, holding their dead son on the stone floor. Molly was so saddened and looked so dead and hollowed that she could not even bring herself to cry over Percy. Not then anyway, although Severus was sure she would cry for days or months even, later on in the privacy of her own home… maybe even years. Would he do that? Would he allow himself to cry over Harry’s death? He couldn’t, because should he allow himself to do that, he would never stop.

Throughout the night Severus had wormed his way into a hole so deep and filled with self loathing that he felt he would never be able to look at himself in a mirror again. If only he had done things differently… if he had never betrayed Harry’s parents… if he had not treated Harry so unkindly during his first five years there… if if if. The list went on and on. If not for him, then things would have been different.

An ache in his gut told him that he needed to eat, but he didn’t feel like eating, not now, or ever. He should sooner crawl up inside himself and die. If Harry’s funeral wasn’t today, then he would have no motivation to move or leave his bed ever again. But the fact was that he was expected to be there, and he would not miss it even if he wasn’t. It was his only chance to say goodbye to the surrogate son he had come to love and admire.

Severus sat up and moved no further. He felt so unbelievably sluggish that he wasn’t sure he would even be able to stand up. Even though his body felt numb and weak, and his soul empty and dead, his mind raced with all the things he hated about himself. He had done too many things to ever forgive himself. Memories flashed through his mind like a preview of a Muggle movie. First he was brewing forbidden potions for Lucius Malfoy and his cronies during his fifth year. Then he was slipping a dangerously forbidden potion into somebody’s drink for Lucius during the summer between his sixth and seventh year. Then he was running around at night Muggle hunting with Lucius and Crabbe and Goyle Senior the week after he had graduated. His stomach gave another loud grumble, pulling him out of his thoughts. Unsure of how he managed, he stood up and moved for the bathroom. Once inside he avoided the mirror as he relieved himself and started the shower. He stood there in the shower unmoving until the water ran cold, and he was prompted to finish up and move onto his next task, getting dressed. Just one thing at a time, he reminded himself, already feeling overwhelmed with the tasks ahead. He was to give the eulogy for the funeral today… and in the coming days he was to attend 23 more funerals of fallen students… God there were so many. Five of them had been first years. All five of those first years had been Gryffindors.

He stepped out of the shower and went to the sink to brush his teeth and comb his hair. Out of habit only he wiped down the mirror so that he could see what he was doing. The second he saw his reflection however he slammed his fist into the glass shattering it into a million pieces and shouted, “DAMN YOU SEVERUS SNAPE!” The words rang in the silence of the empty bathroom. They rang in his empty life.

Hands on either side of the sink he hung his head, eyes closed. When he had calmed himself enough to continue getting ready, he opened his eyes and noticed all the blood flowing from his hand, which was cut in several places. Angry with himself for injuring himself, he grabbed a towel and wrapped his hand in it. It was a temporary fix, but it would have to do. There was no longer a hospital wing, and he would not busy Madam Pomfrey with such a minor injury when there were so many others that she needed to tend to.

He stared at the sink full of blood for long moments. This was not the first time he had seen blood flowing freely, draining the life out of somebody. No, he had seen many people die horrible deaths… many of them had been by his own hand. Who did he think he was kidding enjoying life when Harry had come along in the last couple of years? He didn’t deserve that! And now Harry was gone because Severus Snape hadn’t deserved a son.

“You old fool,” he said to himself, knowing he was being stupid, but still, the thoughts coursed through him like an angry swarm of hornets, stinging him all over his soul.

Going on autopilot, Severus finished dressing himself and combing his hair. He left the shattered glass all over the bathroom sink and floor, no reason to clean it up. So what if he stepped in it and sliced his feet up later on? Didn’t he deserve it? Harry sure didn’t deserve to die…

Some life this was turning out to be, he mused: full of death and destruction and loss and devastation… if this trend continued he would lose Draco as well. He paused in his reverie. He still had Draco, the second surrogate son he had gained, although this was no consolation for the loss of Harry. Foolish boy, why did he have to go and sacrifice himself like that?

Severus sighed. This was something that needed to be said at the funeral. Damn, how could they even ask him to do this? How could they even have a funeral without Harry’s body? He remembered standing on the edge of the lake as Ministry divers combed the bottom and found no sign of Harry or Voldemort. They had even spent the night out in the rest of the lake on the grounds using magic trying to turn something up, but there was nothing, and Severus knew better than to expect to see Harry roaming the school halls as a ghost… he was too good for that.

On his coffee table Severus found a basket of fruit, a cake, and several plates of food that had appeared there since he’d entered the bathroom. Probably sent from the elves and other well wishers, he thought. Most other people didn’t even know of the fatherly relationship he had with Harry and Draco… unless someone had told them.

Severus did not allow himself to touch any of the food, and instead passed it by and exited his quarters, wanting to be alone, but feeling that he needed to find Draco. He was only halfway to the stairs leading out of the dungeons when he wondered where he might find his son. Thinking to check the house common room first, Severus spoke the password to the bare stretch of wall and peeked inside. The common room was empty except for three first years and Pansy Parkinson.

“Ms. Parkinson, have you seen Mr. Malfoy?” His voice was dull and lifeless, even to his own ears.

Pansy turned, eyes red. “I think he might be with Ginny. You might try the Gryffindor common room sir.”

Surprised, Severus nodded and gave his thanks before exiting into the cold corridor once again. He knew that Pansy must have been crying over the 12 Slytherins they had lost in battle. Most of them had been fighting against the death eaters, as well as former friends who had turned on them when the time came.

Severus also checked the Entrance Hall and Great Hall, which had once again been turned into a makeshift hospital wing, before making his way up towards Gryffindor Tower. The portrait of the fat lady gave him a pitiful look and didn’t even ask him for the password. She too had red puffy eyes as Pansy had. “Go in. They’re all in there.”

He nodded and ducked into the small Gryffindor entrance. It had only been two nights ago that he had come running in in order to save Ron from Harry’s frantic attack.

Opposite of the Slytherin common room, Gryffindor was full of students, 15 or 20 of them not even from Gryffindor. The room was mostly silent with the occasional sniff or quiet crying. Severus was not sure he wanted to enter such a solemn place lest his own emotions take him over and he found himself unable to stop.

Every head lifted when he came in, and some of the crying stopped momentarily. He spied Draco sitting on one of the worn red couches with Ginny, who was crying quietly on his shoulder. Ron and Hermione sat on the floor in front of them, and he could tell by Ron’s eyes that he had also been crying, as most of the other students had been.

Feeling out of place amongst the Gryffindors, he suddenly wondered how Draco had stuck by Harry all year. Urged to move forward by the awkwardness of it all, he took a few steps. People stepped out of his way, giving him a quiet “sir,” here and there.

“Draco,” he said finally when he made it to the couch his son was sitting on. Draco stared into his eyes, and Severus saw the same pain in them as he was sure was in his, but he also saw strength there that he had not expected. Was he only being strong for Ginny?

“I cannot stay,” Severus told him quietly, “but I wanted to see how you were.”

Draco nodded. “I’ll be fine.” Strangely Severus believed it. Draco was a survivor, and he would pull through, he just hoped that Draco would take the time to mourn that he needed to, to properly get over Harry’s death.

“Ok then,” he felt awkward saying it. “I’ll see you at the funeral.” He turned quickly to leave but a small voice stopped him. It had come from one of the first year girls.

“Sir, you can stay.”

Severus stared at her, unsure of what to do. “Sorry?” he asked.

“You… you can stay. All of Harry’s friends and family are welcome here. You’re in Gryffindor now.”

He was stunned. Gryffindors were actually accepting him?

“Yeah sir, have a seat,” Neville said, no hint of the fear in his voice that he had always had when speaking to him.

When Severus still hadn’t said anything or made a move to sit a few moments later, Ron said quietly, “We want you to. Harry would have wanted this.”

Draco and Ginny scooted over on the couch and made room for him and Severus stared at the empty spot. Something in him tugged at him to sit down and mourn with Harry’s friends, but at the same time he fought the urge. Teachers weren’t supposed to mourn with students were they? And yet he felt like he should.

Still feeling awkward, Severus sat down next to Draco and sighed heavily, as if a weight had been taken off of him.

“Hagrid’s upstairs crying his eyes out on Harry’s bed,” Draco informed him.

“He is?” The students sitting closest to them nodded, and as if on cue they heard the distant wail of the half giant that had been Harry’s first friend from the magic world.

Long silent moments passed before Hermione wiped her wet eyes on her sleeve, sniffed and said, “Remember when Harry stuck his wand up that troll’s nose?”

Ron sniggered and nodded at the memory. “He looked like he was riding a wild bull until the thing grabbed him and turned him upside down.”

“What about the time he caught Neville’s Remembral?” Seamus asked.

All of the older students nodded.

“He helped me with my homework sometimes,” Neville said.

“Me too,” a fourth year girl named Brenda chimed in.”

“And me,” said the only remaining first year boy from Gryffindor, “and all of my friends.”

There were several nods and similar murmurings from various students whom Harry had helped.

“He was a good man,” Draco said. Quietly he thought to himself that if he could turn out to be half the man that Harry was, then he would live a happy, fulfilled life.

Severus pondered on what Draco had said as other people agreed with him. Harry had only been a boy in his eyes, but he had indeed become a man somewhere along the way. A man who had sacrificed so much of himself, even unto death, so that others may live.

He sat in quiet reverie for hours it seemed as stories were passed around about Harry and the other’s who had died in Gryffindor and some of the other houses. The only thing that pulled him out was several people standing to get ready for the service.

“I guess we’d better get down there,” Draco said. It was almost noon and the service was to be held at noon on the front lawns on the edge of the lake, seeing as how it was a beautiful day outside, and how there was no room large enough inside the castle that had not already been mostly destroyed.

Severus pulled himself up, although he felt very old and weak in doing so. He felt as if he had aged several years in just the last 24 hours.

“May I speak to you alone?” he asked Draco. Draco nodded and they exited into the corridor outside the common room and walked down the hallway a little in case anyone else came out on their way to the lake.

Unsure of how to say what he wanted to, he fumbled his first few words. “I uh… I don’t…” Draco stared at him. He had never known his head of house… his father, to not know exactly what to say in time of need. Finally Severus managed though, feeling guilty as he told his son his dilemma. “I don’t know what to say at the funeral.”

“What do you mean? Just say all the things everybody said in there… say what a good guy he was.”

“I wasn’t there for all of that Draco. I wasn’t his friend for that long. You know how cruel I was to him for so many years, and everybody else knows it too. I do not deserve to be the one giving this speech. Such a dark person should not be giving this speech.”

Draco stared his father in the eyes. “Are you kidding me!” he half shouted, feeling like he wanted to shout even louder. “You think you’re dark!?”

He felt even more ashamed that his own son had to shout at him. He didn’t even respond.

“What is the depth of darkness?” Draco asked.

Severus looked up. The question seemed far too complicated to be coming from Draco’s mouth. “What do you mean?”

“How dark is dark and how dark are you?” When Severus didn’t respond, Draco said, “Listen, I know you must have done some horrible stuff, but you have to think about something. There’s a depth of darkness. Harry was one of the most good, honest, kind people I knew, and if we use him to judge how dark something is, then you’re pretty close to him.”

Severus shook his head. “You are mistaken. You do not know what I have done.”

“No, I don’t! But I do know what you have done for me and Harry.” His statement hung there in the air, waiting for Severus to pull it in and use it to strengthen himself, but Draco could tell that he was doing no such thing, so he continued.

“Voldemort was the most evil man on earth. He did unspeakable things. My father was right there with him, and he did unspeakable things to everyone in his life, including my mother and me. But you, even if you did do some horrible stuff under Voldemort, you changed! You came to the other side, and you were there for me and Harry! Was my father ever there for me? No! Did he ever care about me? No! Did he ever try to help me because it was to my benefit? No! But you did. You cared enough about me and Harry no matter how screwed up we were to be there for us whenever we needed you! If Voldemort and my father were at the bottom, and Harry was at the top… dad, you’re somewhere near the surface!”

Severus took a deep breath, somewhere inside surprised and pleased with the high esteem with which his son regarded him in.

“How are you so wise and so young Draco?” There was a tone of awe in his voice.

Draco stared him in the eyes. “Harry felt the same way you know. He loved us even though he knew we had both been horrible to him for years, and that was the kind of man he was. And that’s what you say today,” he added.

Severus nodded and put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He took a deep breath and turned towards the other end of the hallway. “Should we go then?”

“You go, I have to talk to the rest of the house first,” Draco said. “Maybe at the end of your speech you could say something like there’s some others who would like to speak about Harry?”

He nodded and said, “I will do that.”

They parted, but not before Draco surprised Severus with a heartfelt hug, and then ran back to Gryffindor common room.

Severus had not realized just how much Draco had changed, and he had not known just how much of a role he had played in that change. Somehow he had turned into the parent that both boys had needed… the parent he had wished he had always had. He reflected on this and a number of other things as he made his way down through the castle.