Harry spun the band of the gold watch around his wrist for a bit before tightening it up a couple of notches. Severus had obviously felt very insecure about the gift when he’d given it to him nearly a year ago, as if he hadn’t held more right than anyone else to give it, but Harry treasured it above all else. It was more than just a symbol to mark a milestone age for him, the fact that the professor had been the one to give it to him spoke volumes of their relationship.

Who would have thought that the strange man who had stood on the Dursleys doorstep all those years ago waiting for Harry would have become someone so very vital to his survival, a protector, a guardian… a father.

Harry shook the thought from his head, though a ghost of a smile still traced his lips. Severus would have kittens if he knew where Harry’s train of thought went sometimes. Though Harry knew now that the man could truly read minds if he wanted to, and it wasn’t as if he could deny the thought process after all this time.

“Harry Potter?” Harry heard his name be called and stood to follow the voice into the visitation room. There was a long line of chairs divided by small walls that held phones that connected to the ones on a portion of the room separated by glass.

“You are allowed sixty minutes. He’s waiting for you, two seats down from the left,” the prison guard beside him said, and Harry nodded his assent. He took a deep breath to steady himself before making his way over to the chair.

Harry kept his eyes focused solely on the task of seating himself properly before holding his head up high to meet the gaze of his childhood abuser. He lifted his end of the phone to his ear with steady hands.

“Harry,” Gary practically purred his name. “Is that really you?”

“Yes,” Harry responded flatly.

“It’s been a long time. I wondered if you’d ever come to visit me. You did say that you missed me and couldn’t wait to see me again, what was it, seven years ago?”

“Nearly.”

“What took you so long, then? My God, how you’ve grown… you must be eighteen by now.”

“Nearly,” Harry said again, looking away from Gary to take further note of his surroundings. Everything was dark and dirty, grey, and dreary. This was not the kind of place that Harry would want to stay at for long.

Gary frowned. “If you’re going to be so hostile, why did you come at all?”

“I came to see how you’re holding up,” said Harry, looking back at him. “Not to offer meaningless platitudes.”

“Well, you’ve seen me,” Gary said. “Were you hoping for more? I know I can’t really offer much when we’re separated by glass like this, but…”

Harry closed his eyes as he snorted lightly. He wasn’t sure if the action was one of humor or sadness or nothing at all. “You haven’t changed.”

“Why would I?” Gary asked, genuinely confused. “You always seemed to like me well enough.”

“Why… why wouldn’t you? I... Don’t you feel the slightest bit of remorse for what you did? Not just to me, but to all those other kids.”

“Remorse? Why would I feel remorse? You’re the one who came onto me, begging for love and attention, which I gave, then went and sent your psycho guardian angel after me, betraying my trust the first chance you got! You’re the reason I’m locked up in here, you should be apologizing to me.”

“Are you seriously trying to blame me for your actions? Did all the children just come onto you so strong that it made you powerless to stop yourself from hurting them?”

“I didn’t hurt anybody!” Gary nearly shouted. “I gave you what you wanted!”

“I was a child and I didn’t want that!” Harry cried. “All I wanted was somebody to care about me, which you only pretended to do. Why couldn’t you have actually cared about me and not just used me?”

“Because nobody could,” Gary snarled. “You’ve only ever been good for one thing and you’re just lucky that I was nice to you about it.”

Harry stood up then, keeping the phone held loosely against the side of his face. “See, I know that isn’t true. Because I have people in my life now who do care about me, who actually love me. And they would never ask me to do the things that you did.”

Gary seemed to deflate before him before backtracking on his previous words. “Harry, I’m sorry- I just can’t help myself. I’m a very sick man-”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Harry murmured, looking directly into those kind blue eyes that masked so much cruelty. “You are extremely sick. But that doesn’t excuse it. Just like it’s not okay for me to yell at my friends just because it’s a bad day, it’s not okay for you to prey on children. Mental illness is not an excuse to abuse people. Nothing is. You could have stopped yourself, you just chose not to.”

Harry hung up the phone, slamming it back onto the receiver before Gary could respond. There was nothing left to say and Harry didn’t need anything from him anymore, anyway. He exited the visitation room, feeling glad of only having used ten or so of his allotted sixty minutes.

It was a long time before Harry fully recognized the magnitude of what had been done to him. It took quite a while before he really realized the gravity of what Gary had stolen from him, even longer before it truly registered what had been taken and what could never be returned.

Sometimes it felt as though coming to terms with it was something that had to be done several times throughout the day, and some days it felt as though the violent violation was happening all over again.

It often felt as though the journey between healing and recovery were two separate paths that were so very far away from each other. It seemed as if there was no such thing as recovery, just the never-ending process of healing. Every now and then it even felt like there was no such thing as healing at all, only consistent grief and pain.

It was strange how things could go from being so right to so wrong in a matter of seconds, and it made Harry unsure of whether he could ever really distinguish the righteous from the wicked and he wondered if it was that way for everyone or if it was because he was someone broken from the inside out.

Then Severus would wrap a tentative arm around his shoulders as he did now, and the lenses of his world view would look just a little less blurry.

“Did you really have to do this alone?” Severus asked quietly as they sat on a bench outside the London prison.

“Yes,” Harry breathed out. “It wasn’t that bad, and it was something I just needed to do on my own. And not just for me, I don’t think you could have seen him again without going all former Death Eater on him.”

“Would that really be so bad? I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

Harry hadn’t known of his involvement in the arrest until much later, but he now was very aware of Severus’ regret for not just killing Gary when he had the chance. He was grateful he hadn’t though, not because the man didn’t deserve it, though that was another thing it took a long time for Harry to accept (it’s not my fault not my fault not my-), but because as odd as it sounded, seeing Gary today as the same person but trapped behind bars in such a depressing atmosphere seemed to help heal a small part of his soul.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Harry admitted. “I- I needed this. So thanks for making the right choice by deciding not to commit murder that day, I guess.”

Severus scoffed, leaning back into the bench. “I wasn’t even sure if there was a right or wrong choice in this situation, I just- acted. I wish…”

“I know,” Harry said, leaning into the man. “But I’m okay, today.”

Severus sat up and wrapped his other arm around Harry, pulling him into a hug with his head pillowed against his guardian’s chest.

Harry sighed contently. “You have the best hugs, Professor Snape.”

He could practically feel the professor roll his eyes. “Will you ever stop calling me that? You’re likely the only student in history that has kept it “Professor Snape” and not “Dungeon Bat” or at the very least dropped the Professor.”

“If you’re a dungeon bat then I’m a dungeon bat too, and I don’t feel like being a dungeon bat.”

“When will you just call me Severus?”

“When I graduate from Hogwarts,” Harry said for what must be the millionth time in their relationship.

“Well, we’d best get home, then. I’ve heard whispers of a rumor that there is a feast to attend and boats for seventh years to board this evening.”

So much of Harry’s life had been bathed in darkness, bleak and full of a terrible loneliness before it truly dimmed. Sometimes it felt as though that would never change, and who he was before, to then, to now, really weren’t all that different.

But as he stood up from the bench with Severus keeping an arm around his shoulders and prepared to sit at the Hufflepuff table for his final time as a student, he knew that even if he was done with his schooling now he would always have a home there in the dungeons where it was drab in lighting but luminous in every other way.

Harry’s future felt bright.