Chills part II: Chills of a doom. by Henna Hypsch
Summary: Entry for the Winter Fic Fest as part of the series "Chills". Both Harry and Snape can put two and two together.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape Main Characters: None
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts
Genres: Angst
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 7th Year
Warnings: None
Prompts: One Shot Season
Challenges: One Shot Season
Series: Chills
Chapters: 5 Completed: Yes Word count: 6109 Read: 14369 Published: 01 Feb 2015 Updated: 01 Feb 2015

1. Chapter 1 by Henna Hypsch

2. Chapter 2 by Henna Hypsch

3. Chapter 3 by Henna Hypsch

4. Chapter 4 by Henna Hypsch

5. Chapter 5 by Henna Hypsch

Chapter 1 by Henna Hypsch

It was near midnight in one of England’s deepest forests. Harry Potter stood guard outside the tent where he lived together with his friends since five months. During the monotonous weeks that followed each other and saw dull autumn turn into cold winter, Harry had found his mind wandering off from his real purpose  - the chase after the horcruxes - more and more often. A multitude of minor events from the past year rumbled over and over in his head. He did not know what to make of it, sensing a purpose and a pattern at times, only to see them disappear in shrouds of doubts and confusion the next moment. He found it hard to concentrate on anything and there were times, particularly after being engulfed in one of Voldemort’s fits of roaring emotions, during which he sometimes blacked out, that Harry wondered if he was, perhaps, going mad.

 

Harry and Hermione had endured the hardships and the solitude of the prolonged camping without interruption. Ron, on the other hand, had been lost to them for a couple of months after a nasty argument and only returned the other night under mysterious circumstances. 

 

Harry walked restlessly a few steps back and fro. No one stirred in between the bare trees. Ruminating over the strange events when the sword of Gryffindor had presented itself to him, Harry had a feeling that maybe he had been given an important piece of a puzzle and that he should, if he exerted himself, be able to make the picture out. 

 

What disturbed his course of thoughts tonight were surges of feelings from time to time that did not belong to himself, but, presumably, to Voldemort. They were not overwhelming or painful, more like unpleasant flashes that coursed trough his body from time to time. Harry was sure that Voldemort was speaking to his Death Eaters. He had experienced similar sensations before and found out afterwards that they coincided with such reunions.

 

At midnight Ron rose to relay him, drunken with sleep, but bravely fighting to keep his eyes open. Harry told him in a low voice that he would be gone for a couple of hours and be back in the morning, at the latest. Ron was suddenly wide-awake, pleading with Harry to stay, threatening to wake Hermione up for a council, until he yielded to Harry’s determined countenance and grave eyes. 

 

”I really need to check something out, Ron. I have a feeling I should have done it long ago,” said Harry.

The End.
Chapter 2 by Henna Hypsch

Severus Snape walked with heavy steps the path between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. On his right side the Carrow siblings were squabbling over how to interpret Voldemort’s speech at the Death Eater’s meeting earlier the same night. Snape wanted no part in the discussion and kept to himself. 

 

As they approached the ornate gate leading into Hogwarts grounds, Snape thought he detected the presence of an external, although somehow familiar, magic nearby. He jerked his head up, turned to his left and scrutinised the bushes along the path, but saw nothing. The magic quickly disappeared. Probably a Red Cap who did not want to bother with two strong wizards and a witch and decided to bugger off, thought Snape.

 

They continued along the path towards the castle. When Snape saw that the light was still on in Hagrid’s cabin, he bid farewell to his teachers and mounted to the cottage to knock on the door. In a few seconds, Hagrid suspiciously peeked out. 

 

”Why are you still up, Hagrid?” Snape asked impatiently without preamble. ”It’s one in the morning.”

 

”I figure it is none of your business actually, Headmaster,” Hagrid said gruffly. ”Especially since you’re up and about yourself!”

 

”If you’re drinking again, it is my business, believe me. There will not be much done if you’re saddled with a hangover,” Snape said sternly. ”And I need you fit to do more detentions tomorrow.”

 

”I’m not drinkin'!” Hagrid said indignantly. ”Poured ’em all out, ’em bottles, just like you told me to. Like I had a choice…” he continued bitterly. ”Begrudge a man his only consolation, now that things are so bad.”

 

”Why are you up then?” asked Snape again. 

 

”Because things are bad, aren’t they?” Hagrid repeated aggressively. ”And old ’Agrid can’t sleep.”

 

”Why don’t you use the sleeping draught I gave you?” insisted Snape.

 

”Oh, ’em potions don’t work on us ’alf-giants,” complained Hagrid. 

 

”I told you, Hagrid, that I had made it strong and how to dose it. It will work. Fetch the bottle at once,” commanded Snape.

 

Hagrid stumbled inside, muttering to himself and came back with a glass phial that he held at arm’s length between his thumb and index. Snape conjured up a cup of water, took the phial and added a few drops of the purple potion to the drink. 

 

”There, a slightly reduced dosage so that you will not wake up too late tomorrow. Drink it right away,” said Snape sternly.

 

”I can’t, ’eadmaster, please. I keep wonderin’ what might happen if I go to sleep, what I’ll wake up to this time. They put a fire to my house, you know, last spring when I was sleepin’. And then Dumbledore was dead and… I can’t seem to be able to forget…” wailed Hagrid. Snape forced the cup into the keeper’s gigantic hand and hissed up the huge chest:

 

”Nothing will happen tonight, Hagrid, I give you my word. Now, drink up and go to bed straight away!”

The End.
Chapter 3 by Henna Hypsch

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.


The End.
Chapter 4 by Henna Hypsch

Snape blanched and stared at Harry.

 

”I don’t want you to send a message or anything,” Harry hastened to add. ”If you do, I’m out of here in two seconds. I only want to see it’s shape.” Harry knew with certainty that they were at present outside the Non-Apparition zone because he had deliberately chosen the location to be able to Apparate away quickly if something happened.

 

”How did you know?” asked Snape in a coarse whisper. ”No one recognises my Patronus.” 

 

Harry frowned. He did not know at all, acted all on instincts, but Snape’s reaction seemed to imply that he might be right in his guesses. He decided not to let his guard down before anything was proven, though. With tension in his voice he repeated:

 

”Show me, please!”

 

Snape lifted his wand slowly, to the side, so that it would not point at Harry. The spell was barely audible but a silvery magic mass sorted promptly from the tip of the wand and formed into a gracious, nervously trampling animal, the same silvery doe that had led Harry to the pond with the sunken sword a few nights ago. The beautiful animal walked the circle of the glade before it dissolved.

 

Harry lowered his wand and shook his head, staring at the evaporating silvery fog. 

 

”It was you,” he said. ”It was you.”

 

”How…” Snape began to say again, but Harry interrupted him, stepping forward with his green eyes intently fixed on his former teacher’s face.

 

”Did he ask you to do it? The curse… the curse in his hand… Dumbledore was condemned, wasn’t he? He knew he was going to die and he had asked you to… The pleading in his voice, it was not to prevent you… It was to beg you to go ahead and not loose courage… Heavens, I called you a coward after that… no wonder you lost your temper with me and…” Harry rumbled on as if surprised and overwhelmed at the same time by seeing all his loose ends tie up together. 

 

”Please, Potter…” said Snape and lifted a hand to stop the torrent of words, but Harry could not yet halt himself.

 

”How could he do that? How could he possibly ask you to do that?” Harry said indignantly. ”Now everyone believes you’re a murderer. No one in the Order will think you’re on our side, they’ll never consider the possibility that…”

 

”Please!” said Snape sharply. ”I did kill him.” Snape’s black eyes met Harry’s steadily and the young man finally fell silent. ”What’s more interesting,” continued Snape, ”is how you came to the conclusion that I’m not a true murderer? Just because I gave you the sword of Gryffindor does not mean that I’m on your side. Have you considered the possibility that it was a ruse? How can you possibly know that I’m still not an evil Death Eater? By Merlin, where are your infamous self-preservation instincts?”

 

Instead of answering, Harry turned his head away, as if embarrassed. He busied himself with lighting a fire in the middle of the glade, then picked up two dried pieces of wood that he swiftly transfigured into some sort of gingerly seats that you could fold out. Harry gestured for Snape to sit down in front of the fire. Snape viewed the small, Muggle-inspired chairs with suspicion, but the construction was surprisingly strong and held his weight. Snape too put his wand away. Harry was already seated, looking deep into the fire.

 

”Your Patronus…” he said. ”… is a doe.”

 

”Undeniably…” snorted Snape.

 

”Did you…? Did you know Lily Evans?” asked Harry quickly, turning his head to look directly at Snape. The black eyes widened slightly but was quickly schooled back into blankness.

 

”Of course, I did. You know very well, Potter, that I was in the same year at Hogwarts as both of your parents,” said Snape. Harry kept looking at him.

 

”You loved her, didn’t you?” he suddenly said. 

 

”What…? No! What do you mean?” croaked Snape, unable to check himself, but realising  that there was no way out. His breathing all of a sudden became quick and shallow as if he had run himself breathless.

 

”My mother’s Patronus was a doe,” Harry said quietly. ”Dead people don’t cast spells though. A person’s Patronus might take the form of a loved one. And there was something that aunt Petunia said before I left this summer…”

 

Snape jerked his head up and stared at Harry.

 

”…about a boy in the neighbourhood where Lily and she were children, who was a wizard and who made friends with my mother. It was obvious my aunt didn’t like him, but her description reminded me of… er… what I have occasionally had a glimpse of during our Occlumency lessons.”

 

Snape shook his head. 

 

”And then there was the Prince’s book of Advanced Potions. In addition to the clever spells and the modifications to the potion recipes, there were lines written in another hand… Small endearing scribblings about nothing…”

 

A shadow of a smile appeared on Snape’s lips and his eyes softened. 

 

”Ginny did that to me last year… Some of my schoolbooks are full of them… I saw that handwriting again, this fall, in a letter from Lily to Sirius and it took me some time to put it all together, because it was all so improbable… But then you sent your Patronus and the sword and the only thing that made sense was that you were on our side, because of her… because you loved her back then… maybe still does, since the doe has stayed with you…”

 

Snape’s head was bent forward and hidden behind a curtain of black hair so that Harry could no longer see Snape’s face.

 

”And then I remembered Dumbledore’s hand… His extreme weakness after our trip to the cave… and I… had to find out… I knew there was a Death Eaters meeting tonight. I waited for you at the gates. I needed to know. There are too many things unsolved, too many mysteries. I couldn’t take it any longer.” 

 

Harry’s voice had a note of desperation. Snape looked up at him again and met the green eyes. 

 

”That book… I really admired the Half-blood Prince… I must acknowledge that I… at the time… was hoping it would turn out to be my father’s…” said Harry.

 

Snape lifted his eyebrows in surprise. 

 

”Because it was really smart and inventive… well, except for the Sectumsempra which had me petrified with horror… really stupid of me to try it out like that… Anyway… I wanted to tell you that you have all my respect, Professor… I realise that you and James were rivals, in several ways… But if we could just  look past that part… It’s sort of obvious that Lily liked you too…” 

 

”Really…” added Harry when Snape turned away in embarrassment. The young wizard spontaneously placed a hand on the older wizard’s arm. ”We just cannot afford to let the awkwardness keep us from becoming allies. I’m ready to just accept it. At this stage of the war, we need all the support we can get. You must understand that the fact that you loved my mother doesn’t repulse me, on the contrary, it convinces me that I can really trust you… This autumn has been so terribly lonely, you cannot imagine… If we could just be frank with each other, maybe we could, at least, you know, cooperate, don’t you think so, please?” Harry’s voice was persuasive and pleading and he was looking at Snape with apprehension. Snape had to clear his throat several times before he could speak. 

 

”Those words from you, Mr Potter,” he said slowly, ”stun me…”

 

Harry paled.

 

”…with their inherent forgiveness. I have done nothing to deserve that from you. Surely you must long ago have come to the conclusion that I am a cruel and disagreeable person?” continued Snape.

 

”I… I was a child. I sensed and reacted to your prejudices against me, I think. I realise I must be a painful reminder of James. It’s understandable that you treated me as you did… As a near adult I realise that the greater part of your behaviour must have been an act. You needed to hate me to play your roll convincingly with Voldemort,” said Harry. 

 

”Your forgiving disposition reminds me of Lily,” said Snape softly. ”You are indeed her son. I think… that I might be done… with James. You’re right, let’s leave it.” Harry nodded. 

 

”What about Voldemort, though?” he said. ”Will he be able to detect that you are… more friendly disposed towards me? Do we need to go back hating each other again after tonight?”

 

”I don’t think so,” said Snape. ”My Occlumency shields are so well developed by now that it almost goes by itself. And Voldemort seems preoccupied by other things, right now. He announced at the meeting tonight that he will be gone for a while. He’s looking for something… I just cannot seem to figure out what.”

 

”He’s looking for a wand that is suitable to kill me with,” said Harry drily. Snape arched an eyebrow.

 

”Indeed. And how do you know that?” he said. Harry squirmed uncomfortably. 

 

”I’ve seen it in his mind. There is… a connection… between us,” said Harry. Snape looked grave.

 

”Yes, I’m aware of that since our Occlumency lessons. However, I’d like to know…” Snape said cautiously, but Harry lifted a hand to stop him and stood up abruptly.

 

”Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” he said in a voice tense with anguish and turned away.

 

”Fine… fine…” said Snape and rose as well. ”Let’s talk about your mission then. How many horcruxes are still to be found and destroyed?” 


The End.
Chapter 5 by Henna Hypsch

It was Harry’s turn to gape at Snape.

 

”How did you know? Did Dumbledore tell you?” he said.

 

”No, he wouldn’t trust me with the information,” Snape said airily. ”Didn’t want to put all the secrets in the same basket, he said. And he cannot, as a portrait, give me new information. But I too have been thinking in my solitude this winter and I am as able as you are to put two and two together. I am after all, known to have plunged in the Dark Arts more thoroughly than most wizards do,” he added drily. 

 

”So you figured it out,” said Harry. 

 

”I had heard of horcruxes. No details of course - there is very little written about them. But I know of the Dark Lord’s obsession with immortality and I had seen the ring that cursed Dumbledore and wondered why Albus went to such extremes as to actually cleave the object in two pieces. That indicated… some amount of Dark Magic built into the very core of the object. And then… there was something else that Dumbledore told me,” Snape added vaguely.

 

Harry suddenly started to breathe shallowly. With his eyes fixed on Snape’s face, the young wizard went straight up to him with a few staggering steps. His eyes were wide as he fastened them on Snape’s. 

 

”Did Dumbledore say something about me?” asked Harry hoarsely. ”Did he ask you to tell me something?” Snape was very still, observing the fidgeting young man in front of him and trying to hide his own mounting dread.

 

”What do you mean? What would that be?” he said slowly, holding Harry’s gaze and automatically shutting his emotions off with Occlumency.

 

Harry inhaled sharply and turned away. He started to walk aimlessly back and fro, stopping in front of the small balls of fire and staring unseeingly at them. 

 

”I cannot… I cannot take more of this uncertainty,” he whispered tightly. ”It’s unbearable… I need to prepare if… I need to… I need to… Maybe it’s better not to know? Is it?” Harry glanced at Snape who was rooted at the same spot as before. There was such pain in those green eyes that it shot like an arrow through Snape’s shields of Occlumency and pierced his heart.  

 

”Harry,” he said, trying but failing to resist the pleading gaze. ”What are you talking about?”

 

”Please tell me everything you know. Please,” said Harry.

 

”He… Albus… said not to approach you until Voldemort would start keeping Nagini under magical protection.” Snape tried to buy himself time. ”The Dark Lord has not, yet, started to do that.”

 

”Nagini…?” Harry looked confused for a second, before he inhaled sharply again. ”It makes sense, I guess,” he mumbled and tried to take a step forward but his legs gave way and he sunk down on his knees.

 

”Harry!” exclaimed Snape and rushed forward, kneeling in front of the crouching body that had started to tremble and gripped Harry by the shoulders. The green eyes were lifted up to meet his again.

 

”Did Dumbledore say…” Harry whispered in a deathly quiet, breathless voice, clutching the tissue of Snape’s sleeves so hard that his fingers whitened, ”…did he tell you that I have to die by Voldemort’s own hand? That I have to die… have to let him kill me… for all this to end?” 

 

Shocked by the realisation that Harry had reached this terrible insight on his own and was now asking for confirmation of his doom, Snape could not prevent his features from betraying the horror and outrage he felt over the same fact.

 

In response to Snape’s undisguised expression, Harry’s features crumpled up. He hid his face in his hands and bent over in anguish. Snape released him, not knowing what to do. Suddenly Harry thrust himself blindly to the side. He tried to scramble to his feet. 

 

”I need to go…” he said, ”I need to get out of here.” Snape launched forward and got hold of his wrist.

 

”No! Stay here, Harry. I won’t allow you to go anywhere in that state. You’ll splinch yourself if you try to Apparate or you’ll get devoured by some of the Forest’s magical creatures if you walk away by foot. Stay. Talk to me,” commanded Snape. 

 

”But… but… I’m a horcrux… I’m a horcrux… Don’t you see? I’m his vessel… He can use… It’s horrible! No one will want to be close to me. I should not be let near anyone,” stammered Harry.

 

”Nonsense!” exclaimed Snape. ”If you are a horcrux you’ve been so since you were a one year old baby. Didn’t keep you from being yourself all those years, did it? If it were so easy for him to emerge inside you, he would have done so during the thirteen years that passed from his curse backfiring on you until he recreated his body with the help of your blood. We know nothing for sure. Albus never mentioned the word to me  - just that you had to… that you had to let him…” 

 

Snape could not finish the sentence and Harry tried to jerk himself loose from Snape’s grip with a roar of crude angst. 

 

”Listen, Harry!” Snape cried desperately. ”Even if you are indeed a… horcrux… we know nothing about its implications. It’s a horrible word, a horrible concept, but the truth is, the equivalent of a human horcrux has never been heard of,” Snape spoke feverishly, holding Harry by both shoulders and trying to catch the panicking young man’s wandering gaze and make eye contact with him. 

 

”But it amounts to the same, don’t you see? I have to be killed to be freed from him,” shrieked Harry.

 

”Albus might be wrong. The Headmaster was not always right - he becomingly acknowledged so himself from time to time,” sneered Snape, falling back to his ironic ways as if to reassure himself. 

 

”But it plagues me…” Harry’s deflated voice expressed so much suffering and sadness that Snape’s instincts cried to him to run away, that this was too much to meet and to handle. But he knew he could not live with himself being such a coward. 

 

”I don’t think I can live much longer with that connection to Voldemort,” whispered Harry. His arms slackened and he inclined his head. He was crying silently.

 

”Then we must find a way to help you,” said Snape a little shakily. ”Let’s examine the problem… a little more rationally. Come here, Harry… back to these Muggle… pieces of furniture… blasted… pixie inventions of yours…” He scoffed. 

 

Harry started to laugh in the middle of the tears, a hacked, plagued laughter intermingled with sobs. Snape led him over to sit down by the fire. He never let go physically of the young wizard and seated himself close enough to keep a hand on Harry’s back which he stroked intermittently. 

 

Harry began to talk, a few sentences only at a time, in between new fits of angst and crying. Snape waited patiently and after a while the words poured out more easily. Harry told Snape about the visions, about blacking out during Voldemort’s feelings of anger or evil jubilation and about the excruciating pain that always followed. He told Snape about the hunt for horcruxes, about the locket and the other two unidentified objects that they must find, in addition to Nagini. ”And then me,” said Harry and another cramp of silent angst assailed him where he threatened to fall into the fire, but where Snape caught him, drew him towards himself and pressed Harry’s head against his shoulder. He stroked Harry’s hair until the attack subsided.

 

At this exact moment Snape realised that he would not be able to hide behind condescending or trivialising remarks. He must meet this wizard of exceptional fate with honesty and straightforwardness and withstand his emotions, not with the aid of Occlumency, but with a wide open mind, letting every soaring feeling of the boy touch him, showing Harry that he accepted everything, shunned nothing and thus baring his own soul. To his own surprise, Snape realised that he was prepared to do exactly that.

 

After an indeterminable amount of time, Harry had emptied his tears and forces. He slowly calmed down. After that, they fell into the kind of conversation that is only possible between two persons who are completely exhausted but who don’t want to part, don’t want to be alone and where the dialogue wanders aimlessly and is completely uncensured. 

 

For example Harry told Snape that he enjoyed a particular soup that he had created, made of several herbs and roots picked in the forests where they had been camping. Snape informed him that some of those ingredients had magical properties and that Harry just might have invented a weak fortifying potion. Harry laughed and said that it was the irony of fate that he should turn up an aptitude for potion inventions when he was miles from Hogwarts. 

 

Snape confessed to Harry that, although comforting at times and suitable for small talk, the presence of Dumbledore’s portrait in his office sometimes made him feel more lonely than ever. ”It is very much alike, you see - the eyes, the tone of voice, his phrasing - but it is still not him, you know. It’s a copy of the real wizard as he was when he died. He cannot think or speak anything really new. And sometimes it makes me so sad to realise that he is parroting himself…” Snape’s voice faltered.

 

Harry told Snape about Ron and Hermione, about their fights and about what had happened when they destroyed the locket. He spoke longingly about Ginny, wondered how she was and Snape hummed and mumbled that she was well as far as he knew and asked whether Harry and her were still an item. So Harry explained his decision after Dumbledore’s funeral when he split up with Ginny. ”But I still love her,” sighed Harry. Snape saw the red-headed girl before his eyes, so frequently with the Longbottom boy at her side. Displays of tenderness were forbidden at Hogwarts of course, but he thought he might detect some unmistakable signs of more than friendly closeness between those two Gryffindors, all the same. But Snape was not sure and did not tell Harry any of it. He contented himself with saying that: ”Miss Weasley is very much like your mother at that age.”

 

To the question: ”What was my mother like?” Snape answered hesitantly at first, but soon lost himself in the memories of Lily and presented them in bunches of unsorted glimpses of Lily’s life and personality. Snape seldom allowed himself to think about her. Grief was always lurching in order to engulf him in desperation, and guilt was there to plague him whenever he evoked the young woman during solitary hours. But sharing the memories with Harry was something else, it warmed him. 

 

When he finally trailed off - Snape had been staring into the fire while he spoke, like in a trance - he stiffened and glanced over at Harry apprehensively. He was not at all certain that the young man appreciated the apparent admiration displayed for his mother by a strange and ugly, formerly hated teacher of his.

 

But Harry smiled at him, so softly and forgivingly, that Snape felt himself blush.

 

”I have never heard any one describe her so… vividly,” said Harry. ”Thank you.” It sounded as if he meant it. Snape inclined his head. ”How long did you go out together?” asked Harry as an after thought. Snape had censured every romantic memory about Lily and opened his mouth to protest Harry’s assumption but closed it and resigned to telling the truth.

 

”We were together in sixth year at school, secretly,” he said. ”In seventh year one of our fights - because I’m afraid we had a lot of those, we were young, she was hot-tempered and I was… proud and easily offended - one of those fights led to our separation and she went out with James… for a while…” Harry looked up at him. 

 

”We got back together again after Hogwarts and stayed so… in secret of course because I had been stupid enough to join… to join Voldemort during our separation… devastating stupidity of mine… We were a couple until the summer before you were born. That fall I was sent on a mission, abroad, and when I came back… when I came back…” Snape drew a deep breath. ”…she had left me. I never knew why. They married. There didn’t seem any chance of having her back…”

 

”She never told you why? That was…” Harry frowned. Snape hastened to reply.

 

”She probably had her reasons. Maybe she was not sure about my loyalties in the war, even if I had promised her to leave the service of the Dark Lord and go into hiding that fall after my mission.”

 

”So it was all a rather sudden affair with James then,” said Harry still frowning.

 

”They knew each other from before. It was in the middle of a war… I guess… I don’t know…” said Snape.

 

They were silent for a long while until they started to talk about small things again. For no reason at all, because Snape knew how much Harry Potter loathed Draco Malfoy, Snape told Harry about his concern for the young Death Eater. 

 

”He’s my godson,” said Snape. ”And the teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts, one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters that were forced upon me, has taken to tutoring Draco personally. And I know that the tutoring comprises Cruciating curses when Draco doesn’t live up to his expectations which in turn demand that Draco Cruciates his fellow students.”

 

”So he’s Cruciated or must torture others,” said Harry and shook his head. ”Why doesn’t he flee? Unless he enjoys to torture people?”

 

”He doesn’t. He’s not a bad person. He cannot flee, he has nowhere to go. You, at least, have your friends, but Draco would have no one,” said Snape.

 

”He’d have you,” Harry pointed out, feeling that Draco as usual got away with meagre excuses.

 

”He doesn’t know that,” said Snape bitterly. ”And I cannot inform him without betraying myself.”

 

”If you trusted him, you could,” Harry objected cautiously.

 

”Draco is not a strong person,” said Snape and turned his head away. They stayed silent for a while.

 

At the other side of the lake, a faint glow had started to light up the horizon and the contours of the surrounding trees became sharper. 

 

”I promised Ron to be back by the morning,” said Harry and stood up.

 

”We’ll meet again to plan for the horcruxes,” said Snape. ”I’ll help you find them.” Harry hesitated just a second. 

 

”Yes,” he conceded. ”We’d welcome some help.” With a flick of his wand Harry extinguished the entire circle of burning lights. Another movement with his wand put out the fire without letting away any smoke and restoring the ground underneath to its initial state. Snape lifted his eyebrows.

 

”How did you know that spell?” he asked. ”I’ve never seen anyone else use it. Most people need at least three different spells to achieve the same result.”

 

”Oh,” said Harry a bit perplex, ”I think I invented it, from an extinguishing spell that I found in one of Hermione’s books. It’s practical to do a single spell, if you need to move on quickly and leave no traces.”

 

”Exactly so, most useful,” said Snape.

 

”Who else uses it?” asked Harry. ”Does it remind you of my mother?” Snape shook his head.

 

”No… It reminds me of… me… actually. I’m the only one to my knowledge who do that spell the same way,” answered Snape. Harry looked surprised then smirked and said with satisfaction in his voice:

 

”Cool, the Half-blood Prince and I invented the same spell, independently of each other.”

 

Snape laughed softly.

 

”You’re good at visualisation magic. So am I. I noticed earlier that you managed to withdraw your magic by willpower,” he said.

 

”Yes, I guess I’m good at visualisations,” said Harry. ”I seem to have developed some new skills this year. My powers are increasing. It just seems so meaningless, when the only thing I need to do  is to have myself killed…” The desperation was back in Harry’s voice but he did not crumple up again. Snape put a hand on his shoulder. 

 

A pink and orange disk was rising over the treetops on the opposite shore. Harry and Snape stood side by side and watched its slow progress.

 

”I’m always so cold, these days,” Harry said in a quiet voice. ”Sometimes I wonder if it is because death is coming. I never seem to be able to get warm. I keep doing these clime charms and lighting all these fires, but nothing helps. The chill is inside me… I wish I could go there…” Harry pointed at the rising sun. ”And forget everything.”

The End.
End Notes:
Prompts for this story among those enumerated by JA Worley in her challenge ”One shot season” were: Harry breaks down, Maximum angst and Watching the sunrise.
Stories III-V coming up soon.


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=3173