What Remains by Lyzasnape
Summary: Harry Potter has spent the last year hunting down the horcrux with his two best friends and new adoptive parent, Severus Snape. After Voldemort's defeat during the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry must deal with what remains after a short life filled with trauma. Although he is no longer alone, Harry finds moving forward to be nearly impossible and finally accepts help in the most unexpected of muggle places.

(Set in the same universe as "Not All Who Wander are Lost")
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Ginny, Hermione, Teddy
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving
Genres: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 8 - Post Hogwarts (young adult Harry)
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Rape, Self-harm, Suicide Themes
Challenges: None
Series: Not All Who Wander are Lost
Chapters: 9 Completed: No Word count: 15366 Read: 32722 Published: 08 May 2015 Updated: 21 Mar 2018
Opening Up by Lyzasnape
Author's Notes:
Warning: Brief mention of abuse

Not sure if everyone is still following this. I have a more reliable computer now and will update more frequently if you guys are. Please let me know!

I am sorry that this took so long! I actually had another chapter typed out and redy to post, but lost it because of the page crashing. It took the story in a bit of a different direction, but i think that this chapter keeps the timing of the story better.

“…arry? Harry?”

 Harry blinked, realizing that he had been staring at the white board in front of him for Merlin knows how long. Turning around, he met the questioning look of Sarah. 

“What are you doing in here? I’ve been calling your name for a minute or two now.” 

Attempting to respond, Harry found his throat suddenly dry, clearing it before simply running a hand through his hair and shrugging. The truth was that upon seeing Draco’s name, Harry felt as if his brain had been immobilized, replaced by a barrage of images rattling around the inside of his skull.  

That pale, blonde hair flashing from behind a thick, wooden door. Malfoy's determined look as he chucks the Elder Wand through the air. Narcissa behind him, their faces lacking their usual aristocratic stares, relpaced with shell-shocked, strangled pleas.

 His own arm, shooting up, urged on by Adrenalin as it links with Voldemort's. Looking up from the monster's corpse in time to see the Malfoy's retreating backs.

And after this torrent of images comes a tidal wave of denial, which Harry now wrapped around him and clung to like the dark green blanket that Severus gave to him, which is forever resting on his shoulders after days of remembering too much.  

Draco could be anybody. Odd names are 'in' these days, aren't they? There's no way that Draco Malfoy would be in a muggle place like this. Plus, Severus wouldn't let me be humiliated like that...right? Harry shook his head to clear it as images of Snape looming threateningly over him entered his mind. Those years of being berated were over. Sev had made that clear and proven himself. Time and time again.  

Turning to Sarah, Harry quickly apologized, making up an excuse that was neither believed nor questioned, before sitting down and brainstorming ways to tell his friends about what was going on in his life.

________________________________________________________________________ 

Severus removed the blanket draped over his son’s shoulders, tossing it aside. He continued to kneed and soothe those shoulders until he felt the tensed and rigid posture relax. Turning the boy around, he was met with Lily’s emerald eyes, unfortunately accompanied by pinched eyebrows and pursed lips.  

“It will be fine, Harry. These are your friends. They have known you since you were eleven and have, without question, already proven that they will foolishly follow you to the ends of the Earth, all the while admiring and encouraging that reckless Gryffindor bravery.” Severus ended his monologue with a rare smile, before sighing when he was only met with a nervous chuckle and a hand running through hair for the fifth time in ten minutes. 

 “You WILL be fine. I will be just downstairs brewing in my lab. If you find you need me for anything at all, do not hesitate to call.” 

Finally the boy smiled, as his father’s words warmed his heart and somewhat easing his nerves.  “Thanks, Sev. I know it will be. Really.” 

Severus nodded and turned as he heard a tentative knock on the door, signaling that Granger and Weasley had arrived.  

Walking into the hallway towards the door, Harry willed his stomach to settle before stopping when he heard his name called. Turning around, he was met by the concerned, obsidian eyes of his adoptive father. 

“Do not forget that YOU are in control here. You can tell them as much or as little as you wish.” 

Harry nodded and shot Severus an appreciative half-grin before taking another deep breath and answering the door. 

___________________________________________________ 

“Hey-a, Harry!” Ron grins broadly, clasping Harry’s shoulder as he comes through the door. His shock of red hair is surprisingly well kept now that he was spoken for.

Must be Hermione's doing. Harry shook his head ruefully. Speaking of...

“Harry!” She squeals before embracing him in a bone-crushing hug, looking him over despite seeing him less than a week ago. 

She has been spending too much time with her soon-to-be Mother-in-Law. Harry chuckled, meeting Ron’s amused, semi-apologetic grin. 

Harry led his friends over to the dining room where the table was already set for dinner, Butterbeers and all. 

“Oh Harry, it looks delicious, doesn’t it Ron?” Hermione looked over, only to roll her eyes with a smile as Ron nodded, not meeting Hermione’s eyes as he was already in the process of buttering a croissant.

“Some things never change,” Harry said, amused. Ron shrugged, not waiting to dig in. 

….................................................

The evening passed pleasantly, as Harry basked in his friends’ presence. Being with these two has always felt like home. Even during their brief time as nomads, once Severus related that the Horcruxes were wreaking havoc on their emotional stability. Harry almost forgot why he had invited them over, until Hermione asked her next question.

Sitting now in the living room, lounging on the sofa, Hermione looked to Harry who was nursing a Butterbeer. “So, now that we have talked your ear off about wedding details,” she paused and shot Ron a playful glare in response to a loud snort. “What have you been up to? I know that you’ve said that you are waiting on Auror training, so what have you been doing with all of your free time?”

 The question was innocent enough, but to Harry it felt as if somebody had suddenly pulled a wand on him. He felt his hands grow clammy and his heart begin to race as he attempted to look nonchalant.Taking a deep breath, he began to respond.

“Er…well, I guess I have been meaning to talk to you guys about that.” Taking in Hermione’s worried look and Ron’s furrowed brow, he continued quickly. “It’s nothing bad. Well,” he corrected, “It is bad, but it’s a good thing really, and Severus thinks it will help, even though it is muggle, and I have only been going for…” 

“Harry, harry,” Hermione interrupted. Brought out of his verbal spewing, Harry turned his head to his friends who were both regarding him with wide-eyed, confused expressions. 

“We have no idea what you’re on about, mate,” Ron added.

Hermione reached over and squeezed Harry's hands, stopping his fidgeting as he attempted to gather his thoughts and speak coherently. “Right. Sorry,” he replied, cheeks reddening. “Well, I’ve been going through this program for the past couple of weeks. Sort of like the counseling that they had a lot of us go through after the war, except for it’s a bit intensive, and it’s done in groups.” He looked over, somewhat embarrassed, only to be put at ease as he noticed them both giving him their rapt attention, Hermione almost visibly biting her tongue, so as not to interrupt now that he had begun speaking.

“The groups are supposed to simulate a supportive environment where you can speak freely and brainstorm with people that have no idea who you are. You’re all in the same boat, and hearing about other peoples’ lives really just puts things in perspective. I dunno,” Harry finished lamely. “It feels safe….it’s helping I guess.”

Sipping on his Butterbeer, and taking in its strong, sweet flavor, he patiently waited for his friends to respond, attempting not to fidget.

 “I’ve heard of that,” Hermione responded, her eyes narrowed indicating that she was indeed fascinated. “I’ve been wanting to take some courses in psychology. The Wizarding World may have magic, but they are a bit behind when it comes to the study of mental health.” Harry nodded, agreeing, looking next to Ron.

Nodding his head slowly, Ron added, “That sounds alright then. I know that talking to someone helped me after Fred…” he drifted off as Harry and Hermione nodded solemnly. Swallowing, he asked, “So, you just talk about the war? I mean, how does that work? If it’s a bunch of muggles, I mean.”

“Well, I do have to be a bit careful about how I word things and react. If war comes up, I can just relate it to the military. There are a couple of military blokes in my group. The other stuff I can just kind of relate normally, I guess,” Harry explained, not realizing the door he had opened with his last statement.

“Other stuff…?” Hermione questioned delicately.

Harry swallowed before mustering up the courage to continue. He felt like running out of the room. He felt like hiding under the couch pillows. His arms moved before he even gave his actions thought, as he reached over to pull his blanket off of the nearby recliner and around his shoulders. Looking up, he realized that his friends were still waiting for a reply, and attempted to smile at them. They only grew more worried when it came out as an apologetic grimace.

Don't look barmy...don't look barmy...don- 

“It’s okay, Harry,” Hermione comforted.

“Hermione's right.” Ron added, “You can tell us anything.”

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. He knew that he could. Like Severus said, these were his friends. “Well, I guess I have been feeling a little overwhelmed,” he began. “But it’s more than that. Like how it was with the…the train.” He paused.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said worriedly, grasping his knee and squeezing. Ron subconsciously scooted closer to his best friend, not wanting to think about a world without Harry in it.

Harry continued, “Severus saw that it was getting bad…you know him. You can’t hide anything from the man. Try having an ex spy as a father!” He laughed and Ron snorted, diffusing some of the tension. “So he set it up. I have talked some about the war, and…Sirius and everything…but it’s also been a bit about…the Dursley’s.”

Ron turned so that he was facing Harry better. “You mean the cupboard, and the food and everything?” Harry looked back, appearing embarrassed, making Ron angry on his behalf. “Those fuc…”

“Ronald!” Hermione interrupted.

“Sorry,” Ron said with a shrug, not looking sorry at all. 

“Yeah,” Harry replied, before quickly adding in, “but there was other stuff too.” He looked at his hands and pulled at the frayed ends of his blanket, trying to soak up the smell of spices and herbs for comfort. 

“Harry, did they hit you? Hurt you physically I mean.” Hermione asked, in her blunt, matter of fact fashion. Harry flinched, providing a fraction of a nod to the affirmative as he heard his other best friend curse under his breath. 

“They…they took out their anger in a lot of different ways. I guess it messed me up a bit more than I had originally thought.” Harry looked up, frightened, as Ron bolted from the sofa and began pacing. 

“Ronald, sit down!” Hermione urged, exasperated.

“Sit down? Sure, I’ll sit down! I’ll sit down after going to Surrey and giving those muggles a piece of my mind. And wand!” He moved towards the fireplace, only to be startled as Harry grasped his sleeve tightly.

“Ron,” Harry squeezed out, as if talking were painful at the moment. “Please stop. They aren’t there.” The last part came out so quietly that Ron had to strain to hear.

Ron stopped, and attempted to calm down. He didn’t see his best mate like this often, and it hurt quite a bit to see his obvious distress. 

“Where are they, Harry?” Hermione asked from behind them, causing Harry to flinch again, as he turned around. When it became clear that he was not going to respond, she prompted again. “Harry?”

“Prison.” Harry replied, eyes still averted. 

“Serves them right!” Ron exclaimed from his place near the hearth.

 Hermione got a look on her face that told Harry she was attempting to put the pieces and Harry silently cursed himself for having such a smart friend. “Harry…” Hermione began, confused. “Did they confess to their crimes against you? Was there evidence? I don’t see how there could have been…” she continued, muttering to herself as she thought aloud. 

Harry looked at his trainers, attempting not to vomit. “The police searched their home and found evidence." Continuing to observe his shoes and pull the blanket tighter around himself, Harry missed the confused look that Ron and Hermione sent  each other over his stooped head.

“Tapes.” Harry replied, quietly. 

“Tapes…” Hermione repeated, her mind running at a mile a minute. She suddenly got a sinking feeling in her gut.

“Why would they tape themselves hurting you, Harry?” Ron asked, his voice not even registering anger in his utter confusion. It just wasn’t making sense. 

“Harry…” she began slowly, not knowing if she wanted to know everything all of a sudden. Her voice trembled as she continued, and a lone tear slid down her cheek. “What were they charged with?”

Suddenly exhausted and numb, Harry walked back across the room and sat on the Sofa, hunching over, staring into the fire. He gave up trying to maneuver words and answered without emotion. “Sexual exploitation of a minor, battery of a minor, neglect…Hell, what weren’t they charged with, Hermione.” He laughed bitterly, roughly swiping his hand over his face and through his hair. It felt as if…well, it felt as if there was nothing. He didn’t feel a thing. 

Tears began to flow down Hermione’s face as she turned to look at her fiancé. He looked as if he wanted to punch something, sick up, and scream simultaneously. Slowly crossing the room, she grabbed his hand and gently pulled him so sit beside Harry on the couch. She then sat on Harry’s other side and slowly put an arm around his shoulder, grasping the top of Ron’s arm. Ron scooted closer to Harry, not knowing what to say. How to respond. How to breathe.

 “Harry…”Hermione began, at a loss for words for once. She paused before starting again, louder. “Harry…” Harry looked up and met her eyes, with a dull expression. “We love you.”

At that, something shifted behind his eyes and he began to cry quietly, the emotion that had left before now coming back full force, coated in relief. A relief that they loved him. That he was still Harry. That they were hurt by all of this, and sitting as close to him as they could possibly get, and not disgusted. Ron looked at the both of them and snaked his hand to rest above Hermione’s on the back of the sofa. “

Yeah,” he attempted to respond around the large lump that had formed in his throat. “Yeah mate, we do.”

 ____________________________________

Severus Snape took in the scene from behind the kitchen door, which was only slightly ajar.

 He was not eavesdropping…and there was not a single tear running down his long, predominate nose. 

 

To be continued...
End Notes:
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