Harry stood nervously outside Dumbeldore's office. Snape had told him to wait there until he was called for. His professor was going to explain the previous day's occurrences to the Headmaster, and only get him when it was time. In some little way, Harry was miffed at being dismissed for this. Sure, it was an unpleasant enough experience for him that he didn't want to relive it, but he still had managed to save the wizarding world, and he wanted credit. The cost had been to high for him not to want credit.

Well, perhaps Snape just didn't understand. Harry still could hear the man saying "Fame isn't everything," in the back of his head. Sure, it wasn't. But it still didn't mean that he had to be left out of things.

.oO-Oo.

What Harry didn't know was that Severus had had to pull a lot of strings already to get Potter released from the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey hadn't wanted to let him out that day - Saturday, the day after the second fall of Voldemort, which was still as of yet, widely unknown - and in return for letting him out at all, Severus had agreed to keep an extra close eye on the boy, and make sure that he didn't go through any shock or trauma for at least two more days.

So he had left Potter outside the office while he explained to the Headmaster. Severus wasn't even sure how he was going to start explaining. He couldn't simply walk in and announce, "The Dark Lord is dead!" and walk out. Yet no matter how he thought, he couldn't come up with a better idea. Severus shrugged internally and figured the words would come when he needed them. They always did.

"Good day to you, Albus," Severus said with a polite nod of his head.

"Hello, Severus," Albus said, clearly curious as to what would cause his most reclusive teacher to seek him out on a Saturday afternoon. "Do have a seat. And a caramel?"

"I prefer to stand, and no," Severus said. "Though I appreciate the change from the usual lemon drop." Albus chuckled.

"And what puts you in such a good mood?" the Headmaster quipped. Severus arched an eyebrow.

"There were noteworthy occurrences last night," he said. "Some of which you will be interested in."

"So you come here as spy, not teacher," Albus said.

"Yes, Albus," Severus said. "And father."

"Oh?" the man asked, still curious.

"Did you know that Potter was a horcrux?"

"I had my suspicions," he said. "You have proof?"

"I have proof that he is no longer," Severus said. Albus' eyes grew wide.

"Then - " Albus said. "Then he is - ?"

"If you're asking after his welfare, he lives," Severus dismissed. "Though certainly no thanks to you."

"How - ?"

"The Dark Lord is dead," Severus announced. "Potter used the power of the horcrux against him last night, and both those parts of Tom Riddle were destroyed."

"What, in the name of Merlin, was Harry doing last night?" Albus finally asked, sounding confused and exasperated.

"That, Headmaster," Severus said, raising an eyebrow again, "is classified information. Suffice to say that I was at a meeting, and Potter panicked. As is the way with Gryffindors, his legs ran before his head thought and he found himself in a confrontation."

"Severus," Albus said with sudden empathy.

"I don't need your pity!" Severus growled. "And I don't need Potter's protection either! Much as he might believe that he's the best there is, I can still take care of myself."

"You don't really think that," Albus said.

"What don't I really think?" Severus challenged.

"That Harry has an inflated self-esteem." Severus paused for a moment before giving one curt nod.

"You're right, I don't think that," he finally admitted. "But this leaves the possibility of the Dark Lord having left other horcruxes. Until they're all destroyed, I'm not free, and Potter isn't safe. The war isn't over, even if the battle has been won."

"Of course, Severus," Albus sighed, lacing his fingers. "It would seem that you intend to see after these horcruxes yourself?" Severus nodded.

"I have the will and the ability. I also have the right."

"So be it," Albus said. "You've never been one to be persuaded by anyone once your mind was made up."

"I know," Severus muttered. Then, in a stronger voice, "Do not be concerned if Potter and I are absent over weekends."

"Why Harry? Surely that's exposing him to more dangers than necessary. If he were to simply stay here - "

"Albus Dumbledore," Severus intoned, "you have no idea. There are many things you don't know, and will never know. I do know what's best for Potter, even if you question my judgement."

"I don't question your judgement, Severus," Albus said kindly. "But you adopted him to keep him away from his relatives and their apparent abuse. If you're sure that hunting horcruxes is appropriate therapy..."

"I'm sure that ignoring the boy is not appropriate therapy!" Severus snapped. "As I said, you don't know. Leave the decisions to me."

"I will," Albus promised.

"Then a good day to you," Severus nodded and left the room. He paused outside the door and looked down his nose at Potter who looked up hopefully at him. He gave into his first instinct to sneer at the boy and Potter's smile faded quickly.

"Come," Severus said. "My office. I need to speak with you privately. Take a different route than I am, or it will look suspicious."

"Yes, sir," Potter said.

.oO-Oo.

A few minutes later, Harry stood at Snape's office door and knocked for admittance. With a quiet creek, the door opened and Harry stepped inside nervously. He hadn't liked the way Snape had looked at him before ordering him to his office. Harry wasn't sure why Snape was so - Snape-ish - today. He'd killed Voldemort, hadn't he? He'd saved Snape, hadn't he? Then why was the man being so curt with him?

"Finally arrived, I see," Snape drawled. "Well, have a seat." Not put at ease by Snape's words, Harry did as instructed, eyes locked onto Snape's face. After a moment of silence, Harry decided he should say something.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, almost breathless. "You seem annoyed, and whatever I did, well, I guess I'm sorry. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, Potter," Snape said. "And you can stow the apologies. It's simply your foolish actions last night. By every right, you should be dead today and the Dark Lord should reign supreme. By some divine intervention, it is not so. Yet, we need to seek after the rest of his horcruxes. Until that is done, neither of us are safe, you realize that, do you not?"

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered, playing with his hands nervously. Snape rose and rounded his desk, gazing at Harry sitting just inches from him. Suddenly, Snape's hand shot out and pulled Harry's right hand closer for inspection.

"What - ?" Harry stammered.

"What is right," Snape said, sounding interested and curious. "And what is that on the back of your hand?"

"That? Oh, that's nothing..." Harry stammered. "Really, it's nothing, just a burn."

"A burn which reads 'I must not tell lies'? Unless you wish to insult my intelligence, I advise you tell me the truth."

"Fine," Harry muttered under his breath. "Umbridge gave me detention worse than yours and made me write lines with a blood quill. Happy?" Snape's thumb nail dug into the back of Harry's hand.

"Don't speak to me like that," Snape warned. "Why didn't you speak with McGonagall?"

"Because I didn't want to let Umbridge know she'd gotten to me." Snape sniffed in indignation.

"Corporal punishment has not been allowed at Hogwarts for years," Snape commented.

"Yeah, well 'not allowed at Hogwarts' obviously doesn't mean anything to that old toad."

"Under usual circumstances I would be outraged that you would refer to any professor in such disrespectful terms."

"But you think she's an old toad too," Harry accused.

"I would not wish to insult toads." Harry laughed quietly as Snape released his hand. "Do not let her do that to you again."

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"In the meantime, I will try to discover the most likely artifacts that the Dark Lord would have used for horcruxes. Dismissed, Potter."

"Yes, sir, thank you," Harry said as he rose and left the room.

.oO-Oo.

"Harry! Is it true?" Hermione hissed as he entered the common room. Every Gryffindor there stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Only Ron and Hermione made any move to approach him though. Harry almost smiled at her, but didn't answer. She pulled him into a corner with Ron. The others began their excited, quiet chatter.

"Well?" Ron prompted excitedly.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You-Know-What," Hermione said. "Is You-Know-Who really - ?"

"Yeah," Harry said, a genuine smile creeping over his feature. "Yeah, he is. Last night. It was kinda an accident."

"How?" Ron asked breathlessly.

"I sort of flooed into the aftermath of a Death Eater meeting, I guess," he said, shrugging. "And there was a bit of a struggle, but by the end, well, somehow he was dead and I wasn't." He quickly explained about the horcruxes, careful to leave out any parts of the story that would have caused his friends to question Snape's involvement in the whole incident. He suspected that Hermione knew there was more to story, but he also knew that she would understand that that was a part of the story to which she would not be welcome.

"So you and Snape, you're going to go hunt these things?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry shrugged. "Snape's just being Snape. He's not really telling me a whole lot."

"Of course," Ron snorted.

"I don't think he knows a whole lot about what's going on either," Harry offered.

"Stop with the first 7 words," Ron chuckled, and Harry and Hermione laughed quietly as well.

"How had you guys heard?" Harry asked.

"The Slytherins were whispering about it, especially Malfoy."

"Yeah, I guess they'd be some of the first to know," Harry conceded.

"The rumor is all over the school now. Some of the theories that have been proposed! Oh!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, rummaging in her pocket. "I got this passed to me today by Professor McGonagall. It's for you, Harry." She handed him a bit of parchment, sealed with wax, and Harry opened it.

He's dead. He'll never hurt you again, Harry.

Snuffles

"How does he know?" Harry immediately asked the air around him. After all, Snape had just told Dumbledore about Voldemort's death. How could Sirius had known already, and why did he think this message was necessary? Harry shrugged and shoved the parchment into his pocket, happy for once that his weekend had been productive. And it was only Saturday.