The explanation that Dumbledore had given the world - because it was he who was responsible for the resurrections - Snape, apparently, had known nothing about the protective magic that Dumbledore had used for his benefice - was that Dumbledore had attached a spell of sacrificial Ancient magic to the resuscitating properties of Voldemort’s horcruxes, so that the destruction of one horcrux, as it annihilated a part of Voldemort’s soul, would at the same time resuscitate a wizard who had altruistically sacrificed himself.

The indirect use of Dark Arts, by linking additional magic to already created, extremely dark horcruxes, were now the focus of a lively debate in the Wizarding world. There were actually voices who declared that Dumbledore should go to Azkaban for his deeds. But most people only saw it as a clever way to have turned the tables on Voldemort and that there was nothing immoral in sacrificial magic. 

Apparently Dumbledore had found the diadem of Ravenclaw in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts already at an early stage of the war, but calculated that rather than destroying it right away, it would be to his advantage to use it to save at least one innocent life. At the point when he created the resuscitating spell, Dumbledore had Snape in mind, most and for all. His spy had for a considerable period of time deliberately put his life in danger and Dumbledore confided in retrospect that he suffered greatly and guiltily from seeing his Potions Master throw his life away, being tortured for the sake of the cause, amending for sins committed more than a decade ago. 

Inconspicuously, Dumbledore had done the same kind of magic on the horcrux attached to Harry’s soul. This was even more of advanced experimental magic, but it was prompted by a desperate attempt to save Harry’s life. Dumbledore knew that Harry would have to give himself up to Voldemort in order to blow the horcrux away, but could not live with the idea that Harry would succumb to his sacrifice. Dumbledore was far from sure that the shared blood between Voldemort and Harry would in itself suffice to protect Harry, thence the additional protection. 

Naturally, many of those who lost their sons and daughters during the final battle lamented bitterly that not more lives could be saved. Several people found it suspicious that the old wizard had spared himself and his closest man only. But at the time Dumbledore performed the magic, there were only those two horcruxes available, and when Dumbledore found the third one - the Gaunt’s ring - he missed the opportunity to take advantage of it before he was hit with the curse that Voldemort had placed upon it. And from there on things did not go exactly as Dumbledore had planned. 

Professor Dumbledore’s intentions set aside, the sacrificial magic did not work with the kind of impulsive bravery that occurs during wars, but was only triggered by the very deliberate, heart-felt and complete defiance of death that very few people can induce themselves to act out on. Neither did the sacrificial magic discriminate by age, utility, nor fitness of the person who was resuscitated, and that was why, to Dumbledore’s miscalculation, he himself was the first wizard to be chosen by the magic when the diadem of Ravenclaw was destroyed. The spell took effect when Voldemort was finally killed in the duel with Harry, and so Dumbledore resuscitated. He was still very old and he still had a curse contained in his hand that would inevitably lead to his death - again - but it was estimated that his resurrection would buy him at least a couple of years, because the curse was better contained than the healers first believed. 

Severus Snape was a case as clear as a bell for the sacrificial magic that was liberated when Harry’s horcrux was blown off him by Voldemort’s Avada Kedavra in the forest, but only because Snape had died by Voldemort’s hand before Harry offered his own immolation. Fortunately, Lily’s sacrifice still lived in Harry’s (and Voldemort’s) blood and made him immune once again against the killing curse. 

The fact that Severus Snape was singled out by the sacrificial magic for resuscitation was sufficient for him to be cleared of all suspicions of triple spying for Voldemort. No one could question his loyalty to Dumbledore.

Thus, all three war heroes had come back alive and relatively unscathed. Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape died, but resurrected. Harry Potter died and resurrected in one swift unnoticed moment which never even became public, yet the parallel was there. 

Intellectually, Harry understood and accepted the course of events. This was the magical world after all. Emotionally, however, the state of facts played havoc with his nerves. The memories etched in his mind of Dumbledore tumbling backwards, falling through the window in the headmaster’s office and of him lying sprawled out on the ground at the foot of the tower played themselves in his head and overruled the incontestable fact that the man was alive once again. As for the other wizard, images of Nagini attacking Snape, of a blooded neck and a white face, of obsidian eyes slowly extinguishing, were so freshly impressed upon him, that Harry literally could not stand the paradox of seeing the man in full vigour again.

***

When Harry woke up after his forth collapse, he came to overhear a conversation at his bedside as he gradually returned to consciousness. He was first reached by the scraping sound of a chair when someone rose and called softly for Mme Pomfrey, whose quick steps Harry perceived with distinct clarity.

”Yes?” her professional voice inquired.

”I believe that he’s beginning to wake up,” a familiar dark voice replied.

”Already? That’s an improvement. Only fourteen hours this time.”

”I’d better leave before he sees me and have a relapse,” the dark voice stated soberly.

A sigh and a brief pause followed.

”I guess you’d better. I’m sorry, Severus, I know how much you’d like to speak to the boy. Don’t give up on him, though, he’ll come around, I’m sure. He cannot help his reaction. It stems from the depth of death.”  

”I know,” the voice said quietly. ”And I won’t… give up.”

In his semiconscious state of mind, Harry experienced a stunning astonishment at the knowledge that someone had stayed by his side and that someone was not giving up on him, which was more than he himself felt sure of doing. It’s strange, he thought, the dead have always cared about me. Why only the dead?

***

The week that followed Aunt Petunia’s visit brought a change to Harry’s frame of mind. He recovered physically from his collapse more readily than before, but he remained in a dazed, vulnerable state that he did not recognise, nor particularly enjoy. He still had difficulties focusing, and reading books was out of the question. What was different from before was that he would now frequently surprise himself with wet cheeks, without being really aware of crying, or having a sense of being sad at all. Where his eyes had been unnervingly dry before the breakdown in front of his aunt, they would now pour out tears automatically and abundantly. It was disconcerting and exasperating to Harry who was being far from indulgent with himself. Mme Pomfrey’s assurances that the tears were probably a good thing, and part of a healing process of some kind, only marginally appeased his frustration and embarrassment. 

To Harry’s relief, visits from friends had declined to a minimum, as if everyone else, too, were finally caught up with exhaustion and wanted nothing but to stay at home, in peace, and confined to their closest families.  

At Hogwarts, however, the restorations of the half demolished castle started. The Hospital wing had an increasingly oppressing effect on Harry and he finally obtained permission from Mme Pomfrey to leave the ward. He carried a safety Portkey in his pocket that would take him back to the hospital wing in case of an impending attack of illness. He wandered restlessly around the castle, distractedly watching the professional wizard and witch workers performing their tasks.

One day, he found himself caught with genuine interest as he watched the work of an old master of painting restoration and his apprentice, a young witch. Harry remembered from his sixth year at school that Professor Flitwick in Charms had introduced them to the art of magical painting, which had nothing to do with Muggle painting. Already at the time, he remembered enjoying the delicate layering of colours which would later - and not by the work of hand and brushes, but by that of wand and magic - spring to life into shapes, forms and movement. Truth be told, he had found himself an aptitude for the subject and had got and Outstanding on Professor Flitwick’s assignment, but then of course there was Quidditch, lessons with D… D… with the headmaster, and spying on Malfoy - and so the talent that Harry more or less considered a fluke had come to nothing at the time.

The painting restoration apprentice was a few years older than Harry, her name was Helena and she was an artist. She explained to Harry that she learnt to perform painting restoration only to be able to support herself financially while she was realising her own art. When Harry expressed a floating wish to have a go at magical painting again, she generously bestowed him both with some material and with a demonstration of different techniques. 

Helena’s way of teaching was as conscientious and as heart-felt as if Harry had been a fellow artist of hers and not an amateur painter, and certainly not the saviour of the Wizarding world - a fact that she seemed to solemnly ignore to Harry’s relief. She spoke passionately about the visual aspects of Magical Arts which was what she lived for, and her personality was such that one instinctively figured that she plunged into everything in life with equal ambition and passion. Had Harry been introduced to the subject by anyone less arduous and earnest, it was far from sure that he could have been brought out of his shell, but as it were, despite himself, Harry was hooked by both the proceeding and the person providing the task.

Mme Pomfrey had asked of Harry to be cautious with his magic while recovering from whatever strange post-traumatic condition he was suffering from. There was actually no reason to believe that Harry’s magic was involved in his current disability. On the contrary, Harry found that the small everyday spells that he was allowed to use seemed to come more naturally and with less effort now than before the horcrux was detached from him. He had always needed to put a fair amount of power behind even a simple spell, but now he performed them as easily and as gracefully as if he had been born with a wand in his hand and grown up using it as a sixth sense. This, at least, comforted him somewhat.

Painting charms required a bit more power than the average spell and above all it required a substantial amount of concentration, complex modulation of magic, as well as mental visualisation. Seeing Harry raised above the near apathy he had sunk into since his aunt’s visit, and for once eager to try something, Mme Pomfrey could not deny him the activity of magical painting. 

Even after Helena and her master finished their work and left the castle, Harry persevered, having ordered painting material of his own and looking up techniques in borrowed books from Professor Flitwick. 

From there on, painting became the crutch in Harry’s everyday existence. It was the reason he forced himself to get up every morning. He could spend hours figuring out how to blend two colours to a perfect balance in order to obtain a certain effect on a canvas. His deep involvement prevented effectively, although only temporarily, the rumbling, unproductive and guilty thoughts that had invaded his mind since the end of the war. Painting also produced a respite and a distraction from the symptoms that still had an undiminished life of their own in his body, however.

They had almost reached the end of May, and spring was blossoming outside Hogwarts. Mme Pomfrey demanded that Harry spend some time in the fresh air, which was why Harry reluctantly took to painting outdoors.