A form walked down the path towards its home. Alone, out of focus, a ways to go before it reached family. Thoughts drift through its head, ideas and doubts. Focused finally, the last of the magical shimmer fell away to reveal a boy. A young man. Harry Potter-Snape. 

He raised his head, green eyes moving so that he could look at the turn in the trail before him. He pulled his arms close to his body in a self-hug. How would his father react after so long an absence? He dared not hope for understanding. 

Did Snape love him enough to let him go again? He was here for a visit, but not to stay. Never to stay. He had been hurt too badly for that, but his father deserved an explanation. Harry loved his father and he hoped the man would be willing to let him follow through with the "plan". Calling it a plan was misleading; it was more like a journey his soul ached to complete. He needed to find himself before he could come back and settle into the life of Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Killer-of-Voldemort, the Hero everyone saw in him. He had to see it in himself before he could return for good.

This was a visit, a long time in coming. 

Snape would want to help him, said as much before Harry left months before, but the boy needed to find himself. On his own. Alone. He needed the silence and the questions to be his choice, not mandatory or forced upon him by others.  It was his life now and he refused to be a pawn any longer. Not that Snape would ever try to manipulate him.

Harry followed the turn of the trail and there laid out before him was Spinner's End. It was beautiful and alien all at once. The picture in his mind, the memory he had cherished for the past few months, no longer fit with the place they called home. The garden was no longer an overgrown weed patch - he could see actual sunflowers bathing in the bright sunlight. Rose bushes were budding on either side of the gate and the house itself looked clean instead of run down. Harry's chin twitched and tears came to his eyes when he thought of all the time Severus had spent alone. Abandoned by a son. Harry's breath came out in a shaky exhale. 

He hurried forward, suddenly frantic to see his father. He needed the smell of stale herbs and potions ingredients. He needed to see those warm brown eyes and that soft, almost invisible smile. God, he needed to see that smile. 

His heart felt like it would break free of his chest, it was pounding so hard as he pushed his way through the front gate. 

"Dad!" he called loudly. 

The front hall was silent and empty, his thudding heartbeat the only sound. 

"Dad!" he called again. 

He glanced in the dinning room on his way past and saw a cup and saucer sitting at Snape's customary spot at the table. They were covered in a thin layer of dust that showed up in the bright light spilling through the open windows. Something was wrong. Harry ran towards the stairway that led to the basement where Snape spent most of his days brewing potions. 

"Dad!" an edge of concern entered his voice. 

The clatter of his feet on the stairs was almost deafening in the otherwise silent house. Where was Severus Snape? 

"Da-" he stopped abruptly. 

On the floor at the foot of the work bench was an unmoving body. A pale arm was outstretched, reaching towards a fallen wand, and the twisted shape of a snake and skull were just visible. Harry's mouth fell open, a scream locked in his throat, unable to sound. He rushed to his father's side and rolled the man on his back. 

Severus was dead. 

"Dad?" Harry patted Snape's cheek with his hand, gently, at first and then harder when there was no response. "Dad!" 

Terror gripped Harry tight and he felt his scalp tingle, his arms covered in goosebumps, as a single thought entered his mind: He had left and his father had died. He had killed his father.

A rasping cough shook the man's frame and Harry drew Snape into a tight hug. Not dead, then? Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and sent a distress signal to Hermione and Ron. He needed to get Snape to the floo and then St. Mungo's. Help. He needed help for his father. 

"H-Harr-y?" Snape breathed out the word in a stuttered whisper. 

Harry stood, trying to drag his father's bigger frame up with him, but it was a failed effort. "I'm here," he answered, maneuvering his arm under Snape's shoulders. "I'm here, Dad."

He caught a short glimpse of the dark gaze in his peripheral vision, but when he had adjusted his grip so that Snape was leaning fully against him, the eyes were shut again. He had his father's unresponsive body standing, more-or-less, and he took a labored step forward, gaze focused on their feet. Then he remembered the stairs. He would never be able to pull his father up them, unless...

Harry gently released his hold on Severus and lowered the man back to the ground. 

"Stupid fucking Potter!" Harry cursed himself, drawing his wand again. 

A simple flick and command left Snape floating in the air, following Harry's trail up the stairs and towards the den where the fireplace waited. There was the sound of someone exiting the floo and then a moment later the sharp pop of someone apparating into the front hall. 

"I'm back here!" Harry called, accurately guessing that the newcomers were his best friends. 

The pounding of footsteps, a muffled gasp of shock and then Harry was being engulfed in hugs from Ron and Hermione. 

"What happened?"

"Are you alright?"

"Is it really you, Harry?"

"Where have you been?" 

They traded off rapid questions as Harry pushed past them with his precious cargo and headed towards the fireplace. He felt both immense relief and a guilty anxiety at his friends' presence. He had left everything behind, including them, for a reason. He hadn't wanted to be around them. Now, he had no choice. Now, he was forced to face his friends and answer their difficult questions. 

"I don't know what happened. I found him like this a few minutes ago," Harry found himself explaining, "he woke briefly, but that was it. He hasn't moved since." 

Hermione was already running her wand up and down Snape's left side, muttering diagnostic spells under her breath. Was there nothing the witch did not know how to do? Harry found himself wondering. 

"St. Mungo's," Harry said once he had positioned his father and himself in the large fireplace. 

Everything disappeared in a haze of bright green and for a moment Harry remembered his mother's face before she, too, had been taken from him in a flash of green light. Then he was stepping out of a fireplace at St. Mungo's and a mediwitch was instantly at his side. She asked him questions he could not answer and then she took his father away. Harry was left in the waiting room, sitting on an uncomfortable chair while he waited for his friends to arrive. 

When they did, it was another round of questions he could not answer, not then at any rate. 

"Where did you go?" 

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were leaving?"

"Are you alright? You look thinner." This, from a worried Hermione, her gaze scouring his lean frame. 

He sat, staring straight ahead trying to fight the urge to run out of the room and never come back. He needed them to understand that he still did not know what motivated him. He still had no idea why he had the urge to wander and find himself away from their support. Did they love him enough to let him go if he asked? If they had a choice in the matter?

They stopped with their questions, realizing that he was not going to answer. He turned to them then, sitting across from him with matching expressions of concern. They were beautiful, his friends and family. He let his thoughts form into something coherent. They deserved some kind of clear response from him. 

"Do you love me enough to let me go?" He had not meant to ask them that. "Do you love me enough to follow through?" That, either. 

Hermione leaned forward in her seat, fingers gripping the knee of her jeans. "Go where, Harry?" she asked gently. 

"Out there - it doesn't matter where." How could they understand what his words meant? 

"I think I get it, mate," Ron said sadly. 

"Well, I don't!" Hermione exclaimed, drawing glances from others in the room. 

The young woman hunched her shoulders and muttered an audible apology before returning her focus to Harry. He felt a bit of weight fall of his shoulders knowing that Ron understood him, at least. 

"I'm sorry," Harry said, meaning it.

"You're sorry?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "Do you know how worried your father has been? He spent loads of money trying to find you and then when he got that letter," she spat out the word, "it broke his heart. Did you ever think to send more than one letter in all these months?" 

"I'm really sorry," Harry didn't know what else to say. 

"Tell your father that, if he wakes up!" Hermione bit out viciously, instantly regretting it. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's just been hard." 

"No one knew where you were," Ron said. 

"I know that I went about this all wrong." Harry sighed heavily and bowed his head, holding his face in his palms. "I need to go back." He hadn't meant to voice that thought. 

Hermione leaned forward, once more, face a mask of anxiety. "Back where?" she asked. 

Harry's groan was muffled by the hands still covering his face. "You wouldn't understand." 

"You needed to get away from it all," Ron said, explaining for him. 

Harry looked up and let his hands fall away. He could see the wheels turning in Hermione's brain as Ron continued. 

"You needed space and time to deal with everything that's happened to you. Away from everyone, even... even us." Ron averted his gaze, hurt, but not wanting to show it. 

Harry opened his mouth to respond, to fix everything and make it better. 

"Mr. Snape's family?" a mediwitch called from the waiting room doorway. 

The trio stood and made their way over. "That's us," Harry answered the woman's questioning glance. 

She smiled reassuringly. "Mr. Snape is not out of the woods, yet, but he is stable for the moment. It appears that there was a potions accident, but we will know more after a few tests. He is asking for Harry - is that you?" she asked. 

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's me." 

"We'll wait for you here," Hermione said, giving Harry's hand a brief squeeze, and then she led Ron back to their seats. 

Harry followed the mediwitch down the hall and around several corners before she came to a stop in front of a semi-open door. She motioned for him to enter and said she would return later. Harry was glad for the privacy when he entered the room and saw his father on the bed. Snape was sickly pale and his breaths were labored. 

"Dad?" Harry approached the bed and took a seat. 

Snape's eyelids fluttered open.  "H-Harry?" 

A pale hand lifted off the bed and moved a few inches towards Harry before it fell back, Snape's energy spent. Harry reached forward and took it, holding it tight. It felt so cold. 

"I'm sorry, dad," he apologized, voice thick. 

Snape's hand twitched. "Don't be, Harry." 

"Dad, I shouldn't have left you... You wouldn't be here if I'd stayed," Harry voiced his guilt. 

"Don't ever th-think that," Snape whispered softly. 

"But it's true," Harry wiped away a tear that had slithered down his face. 

"No. I was careless. I mixed ingredients wrong on an advanced potion and the resulting fumes, well, I've had a heart attack." Snape did not sugar coat the truth. 

Harry gasped painfully. "No." 

"I'm fine now," Snape reassured him with the ghost of a smile. 

"I'm never leaving you again," Harry promised, squeezing his father's hand tightly. 

Severus rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "Gryffindors and their unnecessary offerings," he grumbled. 

"But..." Harry started, confused. 

Snape leveled his gaze at the boy. "I know why you went, Harry. Your letter was nice, but I didn't need it to understand. If I was twenty years younger and less set in my ways, I might attempt a similar journey of self-discovery. I ask for no apologies and I expect no sacrifices. It is obvious that you're not yet ready to come home, although I am glad that you chose to come see me." He smiled. "You saved my life, Harry. What father could ask more than that?"

Harry sat, speechless for a moment before asking timidly. "The house... I couldn't help but notice the flowers?" 

Snape's face brightened at his son's fumbled question. "Her name is Melinda Cartwright and I met her at a brewing seminar in London seven weeks ago." 

"Oh," was all Harry could say in response. 

"She is a lovely woman and a respected potions expert. She comes around to the house every few days - I should have you fire call her," he added in distress, "she was supposed to come by tonight." 

"Of course I will, dad." Harry nodded, but made no move to leave. 

"Go anywhere... interesting?" Snape asked awkwardly, not wanting to press, but curious about his son's recent whereabouts. 

Harry shrugged. "A few places. I went to North America and Russia and even Egypt, for a while." 

Snape's eyebrows rose considerably. "You didn't waste any time." 

"Nope. Didn't have to," Harry said a bit bitterly. "No waiting for orders or letting others make my plans. I did it all for myself and even though I got lost a few times and made some mistakes along the way, well," his green eyes brightened with memories, "I met some truly amazing people - magical and muggle - and I wouldn't trade those days for anything." 

"Good for you," Snape gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze and then his dark eyes fell shut. "I think I need to rest. Please, tell Melinda I am sorry our date was ruined." 

Any response Harry might have had was muted by the mention of a 'date' and negated by the fact that the man was now asleep. Releasing his grip on his father's hand, Harry tucked the blankets up around the man before walking out of the room. 

He found Hermione and Ron where he had left them. 

"Melinda Cartwright?" he demanded. 

Hermione bit her lip and Ron looked away.

"He mentioned her, did he?" the redhead asked. 

"She's really none of your concern, Harry. It's your dad's business who he decides to date," Hermione's sharp tone was back and she grimaced. "Sorry, I'm just..."

"You're angry with me." Harry nodded his understanding. 

"Ye-ah," She drew it out with an embarrassed look. 

"You have every right to be. I left you, no warning or anything, just left." Harry felt his face burn with shame. 

"I understand, now, sort of," Hermione gave Ron a soft peck on the cheek. "My boyfriend let me in on the 'secret'." 

Harry's eyes widened, mouth falling open. "B-Boyfriend?" he stuttered in disbelief. 

Hermione smirked. "Don't look so surprised, Harry. We've fancied each other for ages. You know that." 

Harry shook his head. "Yeah, but I never thought - I mean, I'm happy for you guys and all, but... wow!" He lunged forward, taking them all by surprise, and pulled his friends into a tight hug. "Merlin's apron, I've missed you two!" 

They drew apart after a long moment. Harry was thankful to have such understanding friends. All of his earlier fear of being misunderstood was gone. He grinned widely. 

"So, you'll be leaving again?" Hermione asked. 

"As soon as dad is alright... yeah, I will." Harry nodded. 

Ron put his arm over Hermione's shoulders. "We'll miss you, mate, but we'll be here when you get back."

Hermione held Ron's hand. "You're our best friend and we love you, Harry. It doesn't matter how far you have to go to find what you are looking for, we will always be here for you."

"Thanks, guys," Harry said, touched by their loyalty.

After a few more minutes of friendly talk, Harry left his friends to find a fireplace so that he could fire call Melinda Cartwright as Snape had requested. He had missed so much while being away, but he had also gained more insight and perspective.

He felt like he was walking on air. His friends loved him enough to let him go, to let him discover his own path in life. It was exhilarating and freeing all at once. Harry Potter-Snape faced the unknown with an open mind.

The possibilities were endless.