“Where are you going?”

“I’m just going for a walk. I’ll be home later.”

Ginny laid back down on the bed and watched as Harry grabbed his cloak as he walked out of their room.

Harry walked down the rickety stairs, trying not to make too much noise. He didn’t want to disturb anyone. It wasn’t early morning, but the house was still quiet from everyone sleeping.

When he made it to the front door, Harry sighed, not realizing that he was holding his breath. He stepped outside.

“Where you going?”

Harry stopped and let his head drop. The one person he definitely didn’t want to run into was this person.

“Just for a little walk,” Harry said.

“Today?”

“I’ll be home later,” Harry said, turning around.

George was sitting on the ground by the front door. Harry didn’t know why he didn’t see him when he walked out.

“Why do you keep doing this?” George said, standing up and walking over to Harry.

“It’s important,” Harry said.

“I understand that,” George said. “But why does it always have to be you and you alone?”

“I don’t want to upset anybody,” Harry confessed. “I didn’t ask you because you lost your other half. I don’t want to ask your parents for the same reason; they lost their son.”

“I appreciate that you feel that you have to shield us,” George said. “But, it is not necessary.”

“I just want to be alone,” Harry pleaded.

He wanted George to understand.

He couldn’t stay in that house hearing the stories of friends and family talk about that day twenty-two years ago. It was just too much. Harry didn’t like that Ginny always wanted to come back to the Burrow during this time of year. He can’t keep looking at Mrs. Weasley, seeing the sadness in her eyes. Or the lost look of George because his partner in crime was gone. Or Mr. Weasley trying to make everyone happy.

What was worse was the look of pity he got from Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. It felt suffocating. Going there made the day, not comfortable, but bearable. It gave him time to reflect on everything that happened. How many were lost that day? And that he was the blame. He didn’t want to be around anyone, feeling that he was the reason that they thought the way that they did. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for him.

“I’m coming with you,” George said.

“Please, no,” Harry said. “Let me do this alone. Please.”

“You don’t have to…”

Harry apparated in the middle of George talking. If he stayed longer, George would insist and grab hold.

___000___000___000

Harry appeared at the Forest of Dean. He landed where he and Hermione stayed while looking for Horcruxes. The tent was no longer there, but the posts were.

Harry walked around. He remembered when he saw the doe Patronus. When he first saw it, he didn’t know where it came from. Now, knowing whose Patronus it was made his heart feel heavy. If only he had known earlier. If he had listened to Remus. If he didn’t let his hatred override his common sense. There were so many “ifs” that Harry knew he could drown in them.

Harry walked over to the lake where the doe led him. Because of the unusual weather, the water wasn’t frozen. It was a bright blue shimmer. The sky mirrored on the lake. The tree stump was still in the same spot from where Ron destroyed the Horcrux.

Harry laid his hand on the scorched area. Like it has for the past two decades, it was still warm to the touch, a different kind of heat than the relaxing slow breeze that flowed through the trees. Dropping his hand again, Harry looked around. Like the years before, he’d hope he would see the Patronus doe walking around, but Harry knew he never would.

___000___000___000

After staying there for a while, Harry apparated to Shell Cottage. The only sound around was the waves coming to shore. Harry knew that Bill and Fleur were at the Burrow, so there was no one home. Harry walked up the hill where Dobby’s resting place was.

Harry still remember digging the grave for the little elf. It broke his heart. In his second year at Hogwarts, Harry thought of Dobby as a menace. Someone with a good heart, but a vicious way of protecting. Thanks to Dobby, Harry almost got expelled twice and then nearly killed. Thinking back on those days, brought a smile to Harry’s face, but it was a bittersweet memory. What he told Dobby at the end of that year turned out to be the last faithful act that Dobby did: save Harry Potter and his friends.

Kneeling by the makeshift headstone, Harry ran his fingers over the scratched words on the stone. Harry lowered his head and wanted to show some respect for what Dobby did and sacrificed for him.

___000___000___000

After staying there for a moment, Harry apparated again. This time he landed on the outskirts of Hogwarts. The school has since been rebuilt. Looking at it now, one couldn’t tell that it was almost destroyed. Harry walked up to the front door.

It was the end of spring break, so there were no students in the castle. There were very few Professors there as well. When Harry past through the double doors, there was a rush of warmth that bathed over his skin. Harry wanted to think Hogwarts herself was welcoming him back to his real home. The Dursleys’ house was never his home, not since he stayed at the castle. The Dursleys was just an uncomfortable vacation as he waited to come back to Hogwarts.

Harry climbed the stairs. His destination was always the same. It was almost remote with the route he took.

Walking down the last corridor to his destination, a voice stopped him.

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry turned to see his former Head of House standing by the Griffin statue that guarded the Headmistress’ chambers.

“Professor McGonagall,” Harry said with a surprised tone. He didn’t expect to see her even though it was her office he was going to.

“What are you doing?” Minerva asked.

“You know I come every year,” Harry said.

“Yes, I know,” Minerva said, nodding her head. “I’m the one that leaves my chambers open.”

Harry’s face heated in embarrassment. He thought he was smart, sneaking in. He should have learned from his time in school. There wasn’t much that could get over the Headmaster or Headmistress.

“Are they awake?” Harry asked.

Minerva knew who Harry was talking about.

“Yes, they are,” Minerva said. “But I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Okay,” Harry said.

“I want an honest answer,” Minerva said. “Why do you come every year on this day?”

Harry looked at his Head of House. He told everyone that he just wanted to pay his respects for the people who sacrificed their lives so that everyone else could live in peace.

“To show respect,” Harry said.

Minerva nodded.

“Then why see him? You two never got along during your time in school. Why put yourself through that? For the last twenty years, he has refused to talk to you. And when you leave, I have to hear him complain about you rubbing his nose in his failures.”

“I’m not trying to do that,” Harry said. A look of panic on his face. “I am not doing that. I don’t want to do that. If it wasn’t for him…” Harry lowered his head.

“Well, you know how he is,” Minerva said.

“May I go see?” Harry asked.

Minerva stepped aside, allowing Harry access to the spiral staircase.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Minerva said. “Take your time. Don’t rush on my account.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said.

Minerva put her hand on Harry’s shoulder when he walked by her.

___000___000___000

Harry walked into the chamber. Not much has changed since the previous years he had come. There were still some of Professor Dumbledore’s trinkets throughout the room. Harry looked around the room at all the past Headmasters and Headmistresses; most of the portraits were asleep. Harry walked around the room, looking for a specific picture. At the top of the stairs were the frames he was looking for.

Harry grabbed a small stool and walked up the stairs. Like the years before, the closer Harry got to the portrait, the harder his heart would pound in his chest. Professor McGonagall was right; he wouldn’t talk to him. So, all Harry would do was sit in front of the portrait, saying a few words then sit in silence.

Putting the stool down, Harry lowered himself down. Harry wanted to lift his head and look at the portrait.

“Hello, my boy.”

Harry lifted his head and saw Professor Dumbledore looking at him. Even in the portrait, Dumbledore’s eye twinkled.

“Hello, Professor,” Harry said meekly.

“Is it that time of year again,” Albus asked.

Harry nodded.

“Why must you come here every year? As if I don’t have enough…”

Harry looked over at Professor Snape's portrait. It was the first time in twenty-one years he spoke to him.

“Professor,” Harry said excitedly. “I’ve wanted to talk to you so much.”

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” Severus sneered.

“Please, Professor,” Harry pleaded. “I’ve wanted to talk to you. I had to tell you.”

“What?” Severus growled. “Want to through something in my face? Want to blame me for your dogfather’s demise? Or maybe ground in how terrible I was to you?”

“I just wanted to say, thank you,” Harry said.

“For what, specifically?” Severus asked. His tone was not as harsh as it was.

“You’ve saved my life so many times,” Harry said. “Even though I know you never liked me, you still watched out for me. I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it hadn’t been for you. I wanted to apologize for my behavior, but I was too late. It was too late to show my gratitude. It was too late to give you the respect you were due.”

Severus said nothing. He just looked at the man standing in front of him. Still was the spitting image of Potter, but his eyes still had the vibrant green that showed of Lily.

“I know you are still looking after my own,” Harry continued. “Al comes home every summer telling me what you and he talk about. That you were the only one that gave him the time of day since his first year.”

“Yes,” Severus said softly. “Young Albus told me what you said about me.”

There was a moment of silence between the two.

“All right, Potter,” Severus said, sighing. “What is it you want to tell me?”

Harry couldn’t hide the smile from his face. After a little over two decades, he can finally tell his Professor what he wanted to say to him.

“You saved my life from the first day I walked through the Great Hall doors to the last day in the Shrieking Shack,” Harry started. “You watched over Hermione and me when we were at the Forest of Dean. You looked after the students here, protecting them the best way you could from the Carrow twins.”

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Neville told me,” Harry said, smirking.  “You were underappreciated. You portrayed yourself as the enemy, but you weren’t. You died in my arms, giving me the most crucial piece of winning the war.”

“Is there a point to this, Potter?” Severus asked.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said. “Thank you. Thank you for caring for my mother so much that you helped me destroy Voldemort.”

“What makes you think I did this for your mother?” Severus asked.

“Your Patronus,” Harry said quickly. “It’s a doe. Just like my mom.”

“Is that it?” Severus said.

Harry lowered his head. He took a deep breath.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said. His head still lowered.

Harry stood, grabbing the stool, and walked away from the portraits.

“Potter,” Severus called out. “Look at me.”

Harry turned around and looked at Headmaster Snape’s portrait. They looked at each other for a moment, and Harry left the chambers.

“What made you finally talk to him?” Albus asked.

“Call it a lapse of judgment,” Severus said.

Albus laughed.

“Maybe now he’ll stop coming,” Severus said.

“I don’t know,” Albus said. “I doubt it. We may be seeing more of Mr. Potter now.”

___000___000___000

Harry walked down the spiral stairs. He received a shock when he got to the bottom.

“What are you all doing here?” Harry asked.

“Did you really think we’d let you come alone?” Ron asked.

“When will you ever learn that you’re not in this alone?” Hermione said. It was a question but sounded more like a statement.

The Weasleys, Hermione, and Fleur, along with all the children, were standing in the corridor. Harry looked at everyone standing in front of him.

“Harry, dear,” Molly said, walking towards Harry. She framed his face with her hands—the way only a mother could. “Let’s go home. I have a huge meal waiting for us.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry whispered, so only Molly could hear him.

“Now, now, none of that,” Molly said, bringing Harry in for a hug. “There is nothing to apologize for.” Pushing Harry out arm’s length. “Let’s go home.”

Harry smiled, and the family left Hogwarts.

THE END