Snape turned and walked away from Hagrid’s cottage, slowly, in deep thought. Suddenly he found himself right beneath the western tower. He stared at the ground where Dumbledore had fallen, lifting his arm with the palm directed towards the frozen lawn as if to trace the contour of a body.
Suddenly, with icing terror, Snape felt his wand slip out of his sleeve and fumbled after it in the empty air. With oppressing impact he felt the same magical presence that he had only perceived earlier. Instinctively he produced a wand-less shield around him and tried to summon his wand back, but failed. Snape’s heart raced. He hunched and held his hands out, ready to parry what might come. Nothing happened. He saw no one. Snape backed off slowly.
”Show yourself,” he said harshly.
”Walk towards the forest,” a quiet voice said. ”Go back and walk past Hagrid’s cabin and over to the glade by the lake. I need a word, Professor Snape.”
Snape drew his breath. He knew that voice and now that he heard it, he realised why the magic he had picked up earlier was so familiar. It belonged to Harry Potter under his invisibility cloak. How had the inexperienced young wizard learnt the art of withdrawing and concealing his powers to go thus undetected? wondered Snape.
”Keep your arms along the sides. If you touch your Dark Mark, I will kill you,” Potter said just as quietly.
During the short walk, thoughts swirled inside Snape’s head like flying Dementors as he tried to assess the situation. Potter could have no good intentions towards him, he knew that. The last time they had seen each other, when Potter had chased him through the grounds after Dumbledore had taken the Avada Kedavra and fell down the tower, Potter had been ready to cruciate him. That feeling of immense hatred had no reason to have abated. Nor was there anything, Snape felt with crystal clarity, in his previous behaviour during the years they had known each other as teacher and pupil, to redeem himself in the eyes of this young man.
A small, floating ball of fire had led Snape through the darkness, down the hillside and over to the glade. He stopped to watch how additional fire balls were lit in a circle around him at the same time as protecting and disillusionment spells were whispered. Suddenly the cold air felt comfortably warm and the frozen ground beneath his feet thawed quickly and became soft and dry. A micro-clime spell, Snape realised. Why on Earth?
Finally the young wizard lifted his invisibility cloak and revealed himself. Potter had grown taller since last time, with a little more breadth to his shoulders, but he was very thin, emaciated and almost translucent, Snape thought. And although the features were unmistakable, they were somehow straighter, more adult and finely chiselled at the same time. Harry’s face was… Snape’s heart skipped a beat. He had never seen such graveness on a young face.
The young wizard scrutinised him with just as intense attention, Snape realised. Then, the boy chocked him by taking a step froward and tending his arm to give Snape his wand back. Snape tried to school his features into an expression of neutrality as he hastened to grip his wand. Did the foolhardy boy mean to duel him, wizard to wizard, in the middle of the night, in the dark forest? Potter’s next words surprised Snape even more, though.
”I want you to show me your Patronus, Professor Snape,” said Harry Potter.