Snape waited until the set of dawn before he heard a faint knock on his door. He had almost given up hope and settled down in an armchair in front of the fire in his small but comfortable cottage in the countryside far outside London. He jumped up but stopped to compose his features before he slowly opened the door. 

To his relief, Harry stood outside on the doorstep in flesh and fully visible, even if he lowered his gaze almost immediately and said nothing. Snape had dreaded the prospect of coaxing the young wizard to drop his invisibility coat. Like this, Harry seemed prepared to actually stay and talk to him. Snape stepped aside in silence and gestured for Harry to come inside. The young man was jumpy like a shy animal but took courage and got past him.

In the living room, Harry walked over to the fireplace at once, sank down on his knees and stretched his hands towards the flames.

”I’m sorry to intrude upon you on a day like this,” Harry said in an awkward tone, a little hoarsely as if he was unaccustomed to talk. ”I plan to leave again tonight and I wanted to… You seemed to imply… at the burial area…” Snape cleared his throat.

”Yes, it was an invitation. I’m glad that you’re here,” he said but frowned. ”That wound on your cheek,” he continued. ”It was there two weeks ago when I saw you at St Mungo’s. Why hasn’t it closed? Let me examine it.” With a few steps he was at Harrys side and, disregarding the recoiling reflex on Harry’s part, he scrutinised the wound. 

”What animal did this to you?” he asked. 

”It was… er… a Chimaera that I found in a cave on a deserted island in the Pacific Ocean,” said Harry who had stilled and let Snape touch the surrounding skin. ”I have applied some healing salve, that I got hold of in Lima. I actually mixed the ingredients myself at the apothecary. I was suspicious from the start of the powdered moonstone they gave me, as I realised it was weak, but the salve did have some effect and I thought I would buy some potent moonstone here in London, because I still have the base of the salve and… well then I forgot. It’s so cold here that I don’t feel anything and I… forgot about it. It’s not as if I look myself in a mirror very often,” Harry babbled on.

”I have some in stock. Let me fix this for you,” said Snape. ”Sit down here and wait.” 

A quarter of an hour later, Harry had a fresh, potent salve applied to his cheek that tingled in a promising way as it told Harry that the wound was closing up. They were sitting comfortably in armchairs in front of the fire. Harry had relaxed as Snape nursed his wound. Now he was staring deep into the fire. He let out a small chuckle.

”No more pixie chairs,” he said and glanced at Snape. Suddenly Harry’s gaze darkened and he gripped the armrests tightly as if prepared to jump up. ”I’m sorry,” he breathed. ”I should not make jokes on a day like this. Not with you burying Draco and everything. I should not have come at all. I apologise, Professor. I meant no disrespect. Really, I am…”

”Shush, Harry, please. Don’t worry. I appreciate your allusion to our meetings in the Forbidden Forest. And I am still Severus to you, please,” replied Snape.

”Why are you being so nice?” asked Harry in a tight voice. ”When you saw me at St Mungo’s you were angry at me. And I understand, truly I do…” 

Snape frowned his incomprehension.

”You called me Potter,” clarified Harry. ”You always said my name like that when you hated me at school.” 

”I never hated you,” Snape corrected him rapidly. ”And of course I was angry at you - you went away without speaking to me and stayed unreachable for a year! Do you have any idea how many letters I have written? How many owls I have sent? All of them returned with my mail undelivered. You must have put an untraceable spell on yourself!” Snape raised his voice. 

”I needed to get away from the journalists,” muttered Harry. 

”You can do exceptions to those kind of spells,” Snape said stiffly. Harry glanced repentantly at him. 

”I did not think anyone wanted to have anything to do with me,” said Harry. Snape forced himself to stay calm.

”And why on earth did you think that?” he said. Harry winced. 

”I had become a murderer,” he said quietly. Snape shook his head.

”Oh, Harry,” he said. ”I should have known. I too have killed after all. No matter what you tell yourself, the guilt is still there, right? Don’t you think that I know the yoke of murder? Yours was so screamingly justified however that no one but yourself thought of putting any blame on you. Why did you not come to me and talk about it?”

”Draco…” croaked Harry. Snape could not stay seated anymore. He rose and started to pace.

”Let me set this straight with you, Harry. You are not responsible for Draco’s death, nor Fred Weasley’s. That fool Lucius brought Draco forward to Voldemort,” Snape said agitatedly.

”But I told Voldemort about Draco’s involvement in the disarming of Dumbledore…” interrupted Harry.

”Voldemort already knew that. He drew his own distorted conclusions. You said what you had to say. You were brave enough to arrest the battle and draw Voldemort’s attention to yourself. If you did not fire the killing curse right away, it was understandable. Of course it was meaningless to try to reason with that lunatic, but it was common sense from your side to at least make an attempt to throw him off balance. The fact that you dreaded to murder or be murdered by that evil creature, and hesitated before you acted, only shows that you are human, Harry,” said Snape, eager and persuasive. Harry put his face in his hands.

”But you said… you said that it had been better not to Renervate him,” he said in a stifled, anguished voice. ”Not only did I choose to protect you over Draco - and I know you had rather died than to have him injured like that - but then again it was me who Renervated him and made him suffer all those months for nothing. That fate was worse than death… Even if I never got along with Draco, I did not wish that for him. And you had to witness every day of his torment. I know that you cared for him as if for… That you visited him every day at St Mungo’s.” Snape stared at Harry. 

”Did you think that I… that I blamed you for his infirmity? Of course not! Both Narcissa and I tried to Renervate him. At that precise moment we did not know what to expect. We wanted him to live. It wasn’t your fault!” exclaimed Snape. ”You exaggerate your responsibility, Harry. Your feelings of guilt are disproportional. I suppose your condition did this to you…”

”But… but… You tried to save him. Then you mourned him. You still do. You could not possibly want me around when you have him to think about.” Harry spoke rapidly with increasing agitation.

”Harry, don’t…” Snape tried to intervene but Harry went on.

”I’m intruding on your grief. I really should not be here,” said Harry and made an attempt to rise from the armchair. 

Suddenly a surge of desperation seemed to mount in Snape who nailed Harry with his dark gaze, bent over the fretting young wizard,  gripped him by the collar and pushed him against the back of the chair, while he spoke with bared teeth. 

”You. Stay. Here. Until I say you can go!” he hissed.

Harry gasped in shock. Snape released him and stood up again.

”By Merlin, you’re going to give me a heart attack one day!” Snape exclaimed and breathed deeply. ”I have merely done my duty by Draco,” he continued stiffly. ”I take my commitments seriously. I was his godfather.”

Harry still looked dubious but lowered his head.

”You behave as if Draco was the son I never had,” said Snape. 

Harry jerked his head up. 

”He was not,” Snape continued, still breathing heavily from his outbreak earlier.

”He wasn’t?” whispered Harry. Snape shook his head and cleared his throat.

”I won’t deny that there was a time in my life where I would have liked having a son - very much so,” Snape said quietly.

Harry blushed as he realised which period in his life Snape was referring to and who he had wished to form a family with.

”But Draco was never a substitute for what I never had,” said Snape. ”How could he be? I was his godfather. It was a supposed honour forced upon me by the Malfoy family. It was more about social tactics than affection for me as a person or as a friend. The irony was that I was appointed godfather of Draco Malfoy because Voldemort demanded it of the Malfoys. Then, when he disappeared…” Snape sighed. ”To my surprise - because I did not deserve it - I ended up on the winning side twenty years ago, along with Dumbledore. When socialising with the Malfoys, however, I pretended that I still payed allegiance to the Dark Lord. It was to their advantage at the time to be associated with me. I was also a teacher at Hogwarts. Having me as a godfather to their only son was a good investment for said son’s future success at school, wouldn’t you say?” Snape spoke dryly.

”You saw him grow up,” mumbled Harry. 

”Yes, I did, and I became quite fond of him, despite the fact that he was a spoilt child who never endured any hardships in life. Very unlike my own childhood. But he had two overprotective parents who chose to bring him up in a manner that I would never have done if I had…Anyway, the thing was that I had my hands tied. I could never do anything but admire everything that Draco did or said and applaud every little whimsical prank of his. That was what his parents expected me to do. Even when I wanted to speak my mind, I had to hold myself back because of the role that I played.”

”Draco was kind of…” Harry hesitated to go on.

”He was spoilt and arrogant, you’re absolutely right, Harry. I have nothing to say against it. But he was not evil and not unintelligent. If anything, his character tended towards cowardice more than towards cruelty. With a little guidance he could have become… He needn’t have…. I wanted to prevent him from…” Snape’s voice cracked with emotion. 

”You wanted to save him from becoming a Death Eater, like you had once been,” Harry said slowly. Snape shut his eyes and swallowed.

”Becoming a Death Eater was the worst mistake of my life,” said Snape. ”If I had not obeyed my base instincts of anger and revenge when Lily and I parted the first time, maybe everything would have been different… maybe… But wallowing over what might have been is meaningless.”

Harry inclined his head to the side. His gaze at Snape did not waver. There was no accusation in his eyes. If anything, his gaze was tinged with pity.

”I told myself that if I could save at least one person, at least Draco, from the fate of acting out as a Death Eater, it would, perhaps, atone for my own crimes in the past. It was like having a second chance of saving someone… or saving myself - and failing… again… when Draco was cursed,” said Snape.

”I understand,” said Harry, his voice full of concern.

”I won’t deny that it has been a hard year. I was not entirely well myself after the battle and I fought for Draco to have the best possible care. But I did no more than what might have been expected of any godfather with a proper sense of duty. Lucius was gone and Narcissa sent to Azkaban. Draco was completely helpless and had no one but me. Of course I had to take care of him! But I assure you that there is nothing sentimental about my relationship with Draco, nothing overwhelming about it. I admit defeat, that’s all and I am definitely not so overcome with grief that I cannot meet with you, Harry,” said Snape with emphasis. Harry blinked a few times

”I really thought… Honestly, I was convinced that you did not want to hear from me…” he said. Snape shook his head.

”I was vexed. I was angry with you for leaving,” explained Snape. ”Again my petty pride played me up. Otherwise I would have made greater efforts to find you sooner. I thought… I thought that you did not need me anymore, after you killed Voldemort - that you had forgotten about me, engulfed in your travels. Why should you care, after all, about an old friend of your mother’s, a rival of your father’s.”

Harry made a gesture as if to protest, but Snape went on.

”It’s pathetic, maybe, but I cannot help it. You remind me so much of Lily and it made a profound impression on me, getting to know you as I did during those meetings in the forest, trying to save you, hoping that Dumbledore was wrong, that you wouldn’t have to…” Snape’s voice cracked once again.

”You’ve been trying to redeem yourself because of what happened to my mother.” Harry voiced his realisation. ”I’m not the only one engulfed by disproportional guilt here.” 

”My guilt was very real, believe me - very palpable,” Snape said in a tight voice. ”I take it you know of the Prophesy and who reported it to Voldemort?”

”I know,” said Harry simply. ”I know.” He had risen from his armchair and put his hand on Snape’s forearm. Under the thick layers of cloth of Snape’s robe, at the exact spot that Harry touched, was the Dark Mark imprinted in Snape’s skin. Harry did not say anything further but Snape could feel comforting waves of magic transmitting through that light touch. Lily had been a master of Ancient Magic and Snape recognised the skills in her son’s touch of the forgiving and healing magic. Snape closed his eyes and let it surge through him. After a long silence he opened his eyes. 

”Thank you, Harry,” said Snape in a composed voice, recoiling just a little. Harry who had been concentrating on his magic relaxed and removed his hand. ”Have you been studying Ancient Magic?”

”Er, yes… I’ve been reading a lot. The magic came quite naturally to me, once I learnt the basics. Dumbledore said that my mother practiced it,” responded Harry.

”Yes, she did. Ancient Magic is a beautiful branch of magic. Not accessible to many wizards and witches. It is wonderful that you have picked it up. What else have you been reading? What are your plans for the future?” asked Snape. Harry hesitated. 

”I have only vague plans.” He smiled apologetically. ”I have felt rather confused this year. Going from trying to forget the past during my travels in pursuit of magical creatures, to plunging in despair and illness during long periods.” Harry sighed. ”But I have tried to keep up, reading a bit of this and a bit of that. I have considered asking Professor McGonagall permission to pass the NEWT exams in June, but I don’t know if I have covered the subjects sufficiently. My reading has not been organised and then there is…”

”That’s wonderful, Harry!” exclaimed Snape. ”I’m glad to hear that there are some of Lily’s reasonable traits in you that counteracts that reckless, adventurous Potter side of yours.” 

Harry stiffened. 

”I’m just joking,” Snape hastened to retort, ”I told you I’ve gotten over James. I did not mean for it to come out like that.”

”I did not even know him,” Harry muttered with a lowered head. ”I only had this idealised image of him. I’m aware that I have not been very realistic about it. The truth is that James is a blank to me. I feel closer to my mother, discovering common traits and skills. I don’t feel that with James. There was qudditch when I was a child, of course - but then all children love quidditch…” 

”I apologise, Harry. You don’t need to explain yourself. You don’t even remind me very much of James any longer. You are indeed your own person. I seem to fall back into ”Potter-ing” you whenever you upset me or scare me senseless. I’m sorry. I don’t approve of the chase after magical creatures that Hagrid set you up to - but I guess I had better blame him than your father, this once.” Snape spoke tentatively, visibly worried about having offended Harry. 

”Hagrid just wanted to help me,” protested Harry.

”Hmm… I suppose, yes. What I meant to say is that I’m glad that you have studied. I think it is a wise choice to pass your NEWTs. I will tutor you and revise with you for the exams if you like,” offered Snape. Harry’s eyes warmed and his face broke into a wide smile. 

”You would do that for me?” he said, but then, almost immediately, Harry’s countenance darkened and took on such an unhappy look that Snape felt his own chest constrict. ”I’m sorry,” whispered Harry, ”I cannot stay. I need to go away to the South again. Already tonight… Those chills that I told you about towards the end of the war, they’ve worsened and developed into… I’ve researched it and I believe it is the Magical Ague that I’m attained with.”

Snape frowned but stayed composed.

”There is no cure and it is a rather bad form that afflicts me. I’m incapacitated for hours, sometimes for days. The only thing that helps temporarily is the sun and the warmth,” explained Harry sadly. Snape shook his head.

”And you’ve been alone with this, with no one to care for you?” he said with as much sadness in his voice. 

”There is nothing to be done,” said Harry quietly. ”I know that it is a self-limiting condition and that sometimes it wears off - after a decade or two… but that is a long time…” Harry’s voice wavered. 

The Magical Ague was a rare disease that attained wizards, more seldom witches, in their prime of life - that was to say mostly considerably older than Harry. It was the powerful and active wizards that were hit by this disease, which was known to be ferocious in its worst forms. One hypothesis was that it attained those who had been exposed to danger of life and over-traced their magical capacities for a long time. But although the disease was magical in origin, its manifestations were purely physical and the magical powers of the attained wizard were usually intact.

”I have a Potion that might lessen your symptoms, Harry. Please try it before you leave,” said Snape.

”There is no Potion,” protested Harry. ”I have looked it up everywhere. There is no cure, no relief to have. I only have to endure…”

”Believe me, I have a Potion,” said Snape. ”I started to work on it several years ago, because Alastair Moody had the Ague, in a mild form, but enough to incapacitate him from time to time and he asked me to help him. He is gone now, but when you told me of your chills, it reminded me of his symptoms and I have continued the research this year, while you’ve been gone and I think I’ve come up with something.” 

”You did that - for me?” whispered Harry. The green eyes were suddenly brimmed with tears. Harry hid his face in his hands and started to breathe long shaky breaths. 

”I want you to stay, Harry. Will you please stay and let me help you?” asked Snape.

Harry nodded his acceptance with his face still buried in his hands.