The fresh air of the outside hit Harry in the face, removing some of the oppressive atmosphere that had clung to his brain during Borgin's interrogation. The boy didn't have time to savor the feeling, though, because Snape had started to walk away from the shop, with his usual long strides and a focused expression. He was already a few meters ahead of him and Harry hurried after the man, increasing his pace to try to keep up. When he opened his mouth to ask why he was walking so fast, the Potions Master cut him off before he could even say anything.

"Not now, Evans. Wait until we make it out of here."

Harry nodded and did as he was told, keeping quiet and looking around the deserted road.

The minutes passed by as he followed behind Snape in silence, the dark cobblestones of Knockturn Alley moving underneath his feet. Then, when the streets became bigger and brighter than before and the boy had started to recognize some of the shops around him, signaling that they were closer to the Diagon Alley area, Snape finally stopped in front of a building. Harry saw that there were some people sitting outside of it, drinking and eating at wooden tables, protected from the summer sun by huge and brightly colored umbrellas. Overall, the place looked like a normal café, and the boy wondered what they were doing there.

"Come with me." Snape simply said, ignoring the questioning expression on his face and walking inside the building.

The boy followed him and, once he had entered, he saw that the interior also seemed that of a normal, common restaurant. The main room they were standing in had stone floors and walls, and it was filled with the same wooden tables and chairs as the outside area. Opposite from the door they had just walked in, Harry could see a counter with a cash register on it and a glass display showcasing muffins, croissants, and other breakfast food. The boy looked around, thinking that maybe Snape had brought them there to meet someone. It seemed strange that he had forgotten to tell Harry about it, though, but he couldn't find another reason for them being in that place. They still needed to buy plenty of things from Diagon Alley and, besides, he imagined that the Potions Master would have wanted to discuss all that had happened inside Borgin and Burkes.

But Snape didn't explain himself. Instead, he approached a blond-haired waitress and started interchanging a few words with her. He spoke in his characteristic soft whisper and Harry, that had been distracted looking around, didn't understand much of what was being said. The waitress must have, though, because she nodded. Then she gestured at them to follow her towards a door to the far-left corner of the place. After she opened it, Harry saw that inside was just another room similar to the one they had just left. The only difference, he noticed, was that it was empty of costumers. This seemed to be what Snape had wanted because he thanked the waitress and gestured Harry to follow him to a table in the middle of the room.

"Sit down, Potter." He said, after the waitress had left, closing the door behind her.

Harry did as he was told and sat down across from Snape.

"Are you hungry?"

"I… Sir?" Harry's brow frowned in confusion. "I mean, maybe a little, but…"

"Good, take a look at the menu." Snape said, passing him a greasy piece of paper that had been resting on the table.

"Hmm, okay…" Harry said.

He still didn't understand what they were doing there but he trusted Snape. And, besides, he figured that it would look suspicious if someone entered and they weren't eating anything. They were in a cafe, after all. A quick glance at the menu was enough to make his stomach growl and Harry raised his head, surprised. The clock hanging from the wall behind Snape showed that it was past lunch time. He hadn't noticed that it had become so late, but it explained his body's reaction. "Right, eh…" He said quickly, trying to hide the noise by making it look like he was deciding what to order. "I think I will take the… The chicken sandwich and a… A glass of pumpkin juice."

Snape made a face at his choices, clearly judging that strange combination. He didn't have time to comment on it because the door opened again and the waitress reappeared next to them, a quill floating besides her and a small notepad in her hand. She smiled politely as she took their orders, but Harry could see a hint of recognition and curiosity in her eyes. She definitely knew who the Potions Master was. The boy bit his tongue while she was in the room but, the moment the door closed, his eyes turned to Snape.

"Sir, I think she-"

"She knows who I am, yes." Said Snape calmly.

"But-"

"It won't be an issue, Potter." Snape cut him firmly. "She may not have been part of the Order as such, but she has proved useful and loyal to the cause."

"Oh. Okay, that's good." Nodded Harry, more relaxed now. "But why-"

"Why did we come here?"

It was not the first time that Snape knew what he was going to ask before he had started formulating the question. In the past, Harry would have found that annoying, but now he felt he kind of liked it. It reminded him of what Dumbledore used to do.

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, I figured that you would be getting hungry soon. And I did not wish to walk around Diagon Alley with a starving teenager complaining all the way."

Harry opened his mouth with indignation. The way Snape had said that made him sound like a spoiled brat. One that would throw a tantrum if he didn't eat every few hours.

"I can handle a bit of hunger." He said, his pride wounded. "Quite a bit in fact."

Those long, endless days at the Dursleys where he wouldn't get a scrap of food replayed inside his mind. He had survived them, as well as a whole childhood not getting fed what Dudley, or even a normal kid, should. He then remembered that Snape didn't know the full extent of how his relatives had treated him, even if he had seen glimpses of it during the Occlumency lessons, and added:

"Ask Hermione and Ron, if you want. We didn't precisely eat five-stars meals while we were hiding in the woods."

His redirection of the topic had been smooth but, as Snape regarded him, his black eyes boring into his, Harry saw a spark of something on his face.

"No, I guess you didn't." Murmured the professor.

Then Snape blinked, turning his gaze to the table between them, to his own greasy menu and Harry was unable to decipher that emotion. There must have been something very interesting about the selection of hot sandwiches, because, for a couple of minutes, the Potions Master read them over and over again as silence filled the room.

"It wasn't meant as an offense…" Snape finally said in a quiet, low voice. "I just know that teenagers feel the hunger more than the adults do. Your friend Weasley certainly seemed to have been starving for weeks, every time I saw him eating at the Great Hall…"

"Yeah, well…" Harry said, as the affection for Ron helped push out of his mind the thoughts of long nights starving inside his cupboard. "He is a particular case."

Thinking of Ron made a smile form on Harry's lips. He missed him. Him and Hermione. Luckily, their trip to Australia was coming to an end, and they should be coming back home in the next few days.

"He is indeed…" Snape said, lowering his head.

Silence fell between them once more, until the man added:

"Look, Potter… Your hunger… Or lack thereof… It wasn't the only reason why we came here."

Harry looked at him, interest on his face. He knew there was something else going on.

"The thing is…" Continued Snape. "I figured you would have questions. Questions that would need answering before we could go back to Diagon Alley and proceed with our shopping. I knew that in here we could find a place to both discuss these topics privately and also order something to eat. Effectively killing two birds with one stone.

Harry stared at him with surprise.

"Wait, so that's it? That's the whole reason why we are here? To eat and talk?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

Harry just looked at him. So there wasn't any secret mission going on? Snape wasn't meeting anyone there? He really had just wanted to make sure that he ate, and that his curiosity was satisfied?

"Potter."

"Uh, yes, sir. It's just… Well, I figured you would have preferred to get this trip over with sooner rather than later."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Well, we could have gone quickly to Diagon Alley and purchased everything that we needed to, of course. But the whole thing would have taken more than a few hours and it seemed excessive to do that without stopping to catch our breath. Yes," Snape cut him off, "I know you could have handled it, Potter. That's not the point. The point is that there was no need to do that."

"But, sir-"

"Are you complaining that we came here?" Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "Because we can leave, if you would prefer that?"

"No. No, I wouldn't." Harry said quickly. "I was just surprised." He thought about Aunt Petunia, and how she had only let him eat once his chores had been completed. Noticing the difference between her behavior and that of the man sitting in front of him, made a warm feeling spread inside Harry's chest. He was well aware that, in another time, Snape would have done the same thing as his aunt. He would have not cared that he was hungry or had questions that needed answering. Without a doubt, he would have gone straight to Diagon Alley and, if Harry dared complain, he would have told him to shut up and be quiet. It was precisely that, knowing how different things would have been back then, which made Snape's current actions so significant.

Lost in those thoughts Harry hadn't noticed the waitress entering once more. She approached them and placed their orders on the table, the sandwich and the juice for Harry, and a plain black coffee for Snape. The boy looked at his food appreciatively and, after thanking her, took a bite out of his meal. It was really good, and his stomach growled happily at the taste of it.

"There." Snape said, as the door creaked behind them. "Now we should be left alone for a while." He grabbed the steaming coffee mug in front of him, warming his hands on the ceramic. He then put the cup closer to his lips and took a small sip. Seeing as Harry didn't say anything yet, he swallowed and added: "Well?"

"Sir?"

"I know you have much to ask, Potter. So, go ahead. I will try to answer everything."

Harry watched the smoke rise from Snape's cup, thinking hard. A thousand questions appeared in his mind at the same time, and he stopped for a second, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice, trying to choose one particular topic. He knew he should ask about the important stuff first. About what Borgin had said, about the Malfoys… But he had just started to relax after what happened inside the shop, and he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet, to talk about such stressful things. Deciding to hold on to that small moment of tranquility, he chose what he hoped was a simple question with a simple answer.

"Sir…" He started. "You said the waitress wasn't part of the Order… But that she proved to be loyal and useful. What exactly did she do then?"

Snape seemed surprised about that line of questioning, Harry saw. But he didn't comment on it and instead said:

"She owns this place. Has for a few years now. That's why I was certain that she would be here and could give us a quiet place to sit and converse." He paused and took another sip of his coffee, before adding: "Regarding what she did for the Order… Well, working here allowed her to hide in plain sight and listen to people's conversations. She then could report anything interesting that she might have heard to us, which proved quite useful. Don't underestimate the amount of people that let valuable information slip when they are relaxed, thinking no one can hear them."

"I won't."

"Good."

Snape didn't say anything else, and Harry used the silence to take the last few bites of his sandwich.

"Is that it, Potter?" Snape asked, when he had finished. "Don't you have any more questions for me?" He was looking at him with curiosity, but also a hint of something the boy couldn't quite identify. "I figured you would be dying to discuss what happened inside Borgin and Burkes."

"Eh, yes. I am…" Said Harry, biting his lip. "It's just…" He knew Snape wanted him to ask about the Malfoys, he could see it in his face. But the moment he had thought about them, the sandwich he had so happily devoured before had now started bouncing uncomfortably inside his belly. Instead of delving into his own feelings in the matter, and why they made him so nervous, he searched again for a safer topic, something he had been curious about. "I… I wanted to ask you about the materials you got from Borgin. I didn't recognize them. I mean, one looked like hair and the other… The other seemed to be bones…?"

As with his previous question, Snape seemed surprised that he had chosen to ask that particular one. He frowned, studying his face.

"They were bones, yes." He said slowly, straightening up in his chair. "Bones and hair of the same creature, in fact."

Harry raised an eyebrow, waiting for Snape to continue speaking but he didn't reply immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch for a few more seconds than necessary. Was this Snape being dramatic as usual? Playing with his anticipation? Or was there something else going on?

"Which creature?" Harry asked.

The professor looked at him seriously and said:

"A werewolf."

Harry's eyes opened in surprise. He was sure he must have heard wrong. A werewolf? Why would Snape need something from a werewolf? And how on earth did Borgin obtain those things? The hair could have been a bit easier, he guessed. But the bones… He looked up at Snape, disgusted, thinking about Remus. He had known that the man hadn't exactly loved werewolves, but to harvest stuff from them to use in Potions?

"Potter." Snape said, cutting his internal rumblings short.

"Did they kill werewolves to obtain those things?" He asked, horrified. "And you want to use them?" Harry tried to keep the accusation form his face, but he knew Snape could still hear it on his voice.

"No, Potter." The Potions Master said, raising a hand. "You are jumping onto conclusions, as usual. No one killed anybody."

Harry looked at him skeptically and Snape sighed.

"Werewolves are incredibly violent when they transform, as you well know." He told him. "Because of this, sometimes they will lose hair, a finger or a limb during full moon, either through self-inflicted wounds or when fighting those of their own kind."

Harry hadn't known that. He remembered the scars on Remus' face and winced.

"These 'lost' parts remain the same even after the person has changed back into human form, as they are not connected to the transformed body." Continued Snape, talking in his teacher voice: slow and precise. Despite the gruesome topic of conversation, it helped calm Harry a bit down. "Wizards that dedicate themselves to gathering particular materials know the right places to go after a full moon. They will search around an area were werewolves have been spotted and, with any luck, they will find what they are looking for lying in a pool of blood." Snape paused and looked at him in the eye for a few seconds. "That's where these ingredients come from. Of course, even if the werewolves don't die, it does hurt them. Luckily for them, they are resilient creatures. And, once they go back to their human form, there are spells and potions that can be used to regain those lost body parts. It's not pretty or comfortable, mind you. I think you will remember the feeling of growing your bones back." Harry thought about his second year and nodded. "Well, it might be painful but, overall, werewolves don't die from these wounds and usually recover."

Harry's anger has subsided somehow after that explanation, but he still didn't understand why Snape would want those things. He had never heard of a potion that needed werewolf in it.

"But why-"

"Borgin sold these things as an amulet." Snape intervened. "During the war, specially, people became terrified of werewolves. Greyback was set loose by the Dark Lord and he didn't have a tendency to control himself. People believed a small piece of something belonging to a werewolf would keep him away. That he would smell his own kind and decide to search another victim. A stupid belief if you ask me. But they got quite popular all the same."

Snape paused for a second, letting Harry process the bits of information that he was being fed.

"My guess is that most of the things Borgin sold were hair, bones and even nails from normal wolves or other animals. But he kept the real stuff for important clients and for himself." He smirked a little and added. "Of course, he could have tried to fool me today… But he didn't. He knew that I would have noticed if he dared."

Harry nodded again. He was calmer than before, knowing that no werewolves had been killed to fill those bags hiding inside Snape's cloak. But he still didn't fully understand why the Potions Master wanted such weird materials.

"Sir…" He started.

Snape obviously knew what he had meant to ask because he raised a hand, stopping him, and said:

"You want to know why I needed parts of transformed werewolves?" He smirked, laying back into the chair. "Well, Potter, I think you will like my answer."

Harry frowned.

"Sir?"

"Remember all those Saint Mungo's orders that kept us busy these last few weeks?"

Harry nodded, passing a finger over the scar he had gotten during his flashback, cutting the roots inside Snape's laboratory. They had managed to finish the batch of potions in time, as well as the next four that the hospital had requested. Still, they had been common regenerative potions, blood replenishers and calming draughts. Nothing that needed werewolf in it.

"Well," Continued Snape, "I've been keeping in touch with them. Although a month has passed since the end of the War, the amount of patients is still significantly high and expert potioneers are rare these days. Most of them have been killed, are injured or have left the country. The hospital, however, still needs their potions, and that's why they appreciate all the help they can get, even if it comes from a former Death Eater..."

Harry wanted to complain about that, but Snape kept talking.

"Don't argue, Potter. It's the truth. They will accept my help until the trial takes place and then… Well, I guess we'll see, won't we? In any case…" Continued Snape, ignoring Harry's expression. "It turns out is not only basic potions that they need. Greyback, like I mentioned before, joined by some of his werewolf friends, caused havoc in the magical population. Saint Mungo's is now overwhelmed with patients that claim to have been bitten by them. And more showed up after the last full moon."

A look of understanding crossed Harry's face.

"Is that why you wanted these ingredients then? To brew Wolfsbane for all of them? But, no, wait…" He corrected himself. "Wolfsbane is not made with hair nor bones from a werewolf. Then why-"

"You are right, Potter. Wolfsbane is made with many ingredients, none of them being anything that pertains to a werewolf. Normal Wolfsbane, that is." Snape smirked, waiting for Harry to catch up.

The boy's eyes widened, starting to understand.

"Wait…" He said, not daring to hope. "Are you telling me, sir, that you have created an improved version of the potion?"

Snape's smile widened, and Harry could see a spark of pride in his features.

"I still need to test it more, but I think I've made a breakthrough." He told him. "That's the little project that I said you could help me with."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing; his lips curved into an astonished smile. And here he had almost accused Snape of killing werewolves when he was trying to help them.

"But… But, sir, this is-"

"Don't get your hopes up, Potter. Like I said, I still need to test it more. But the fact that so many new patients showed up in Saint Mungo's, a lot of them being from rich, influential families, means that the magical community can't ignore the problem anymore. The funding to be used in research has increased, as well as the willingness to share the knowledge on the topic. It was precisely through comparing notes with the few potioneers left, and with the healers that treat these patients, that I got the idea of using werewolf material." Snape explained. "It should create a more powerful potion that would need to be taken only once, the day before the full moon, instead of every day for a whole week. This will, of course, reduce the amount of brewing time and ingredients needed for every single werewolf, thus, reducing also the costs."

Harry heart was racing, full of hope and optimism. He thought about what Remus would say if he was there, the improvement that this could have meant for him, for all the other werewolves…

"Sir… Sir, this is…" Harry wasn't sure how to continue. He felt a knot in his throat and swallowed to remove it. "This is amazing. You will be able to help a lot of people."

Snape lowered his head, accepting the compliment.

"I still didn't inform anybody but you of my investigations. I don't want to get their hopes up, but… I have a good feeling about it. I'm pretty confident that it will work out." He then changed into what Harry considered his teacher persona. "Now, the next steps head of us are clear. In the coming days we will have to perform experiments using the two ingredients combined and also separately. In each of these scenarios, we will have to use a different range of concentrations, to see if the results change with the amount of material. As you can imagine, all these experiments will take quite a bit of energy and hours of our lives. Because of this, I will need you to be ready and fully focused, if you are to assist me." He paused, looking at him with those piercing black eyes. "Will you be up to the task, Potter?

"I will, sir." Said Harry solemnly. "I promise."

Snape nodded and suddenly the boy felt the need to say something else.

"You know, sir… I… I think this suits you."

Snape looked at him with curiosity in his eyes.

"What does?"

"This." Harry gestured vaguely. "Inventing things. Being creative with your magic. Like you did with… With the Half-blood Prince…" He lowered his gaze for a second, trying not to dwell in such a complicated topic that they still didn't fully discuss. "I remember all those changes you did to the potions, making them better, and the amazing new spells that were your own creation. That's something special. Not everyone is capable of such things. And I… I know we've been talking about my future, but I think we should also discuss yours." He then remembered who he was talking to, a fully grown Snape, not a sixteen-year-old student, and added: "Sir. I mean if… if you want to, of course. But I… I do think that you should explore this inventing side more. You could improve many lives and you are great at it and… I don't know…" He said, embarrassed. "It was just an idea…"

The Potions Master looked at him for a few seconds in silence. Then, when Harry's cheeks were starting to burn and he thought that Snape wasn't going to answer, he said:

"I … I actually think you could be right, Potter."

"Really?"

"Really." Nodded Snape. "To tell you the truth, I never stopped tinkering and modifying potions or spells. I just focused on what I thought could be useful for the war or for my role as a spy."

"Well," Started Harry, buzzing with excitement at seeing that Snape seemed to agree with him, "now you can do so much more than that. It could become part of your job, like those university teachers."

The Potions Master's raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"Eh… I guess you know what universities are right?" Asked Harry, to which Snape nodded. "Good… Well, the thing is… I just thought that, just like the professors there, you could do the same thing at Hogwarts. You could give lessons and also do research."

Snape lips curved into a small smile.

"Are you planning on overworking me to death, Potter?"

"What? No! I just meant that… Well, forget it. It was just a thought."

Harry lowered his gaze, but a weird sound coming from in front of him made him look up again. His eyes opened in astonishment when he noticed what that noise had been. It seemed impossible, but it had almost sounded like a little chuckle. A chuckle. Coming from Snape. The boy blinked a few times, not quite believing his ears.

"I was merely teasing you, Potter." The Potions Master said, and for a second, he himself seemed surprised at what he had done. "Without a Dark Lord to spy on, and without a rule-breaking, obtuse teenager to keep safe… I think I could manage to do both things." He then looked at Harry with a hint of curiosity. "You have thought quite a bit about my future, haven't you?"

The boy shrugged, trying to act casual.

"Not just yours. I have wondered about what everyone would do this coming year. I know McGonagall will stay as headmistress. And I don't need to ask Hermione to know that she will want to come back for her seventh year. But anyone else… It's a mystery." Harry hoped that those words would be enough to keep the Potions Master from asking further questions and getting the truth out of him. The fact that he had, indeed, thought about what Snape would do many many times. He didn't know if the Potions Master would rather move away from Hogwarts and his teaching position, but Harry had selfishly hoped that he would stay at the castle. At that home that they both shared. At the place where their relationship had changed and grown. Where they could keep having tea together, talking about anything that they wanted, where Snape could keep tutoring him on Potions, where Harry could see him every day…

Luckily for him, Snape nodded and didn't insist.

"Well," He said instead, "I imagine most people will want to wait until the trials are over, until things calm down a little, to make any decisions regarding their future. Which reminds me…" He said, pointing at him with one long finger. "That we have completely strayed off topic. And that you haven't asked me anything else about Borgin's."

"Yeah, well…" Harry said, taken off guard by the sudden change in the conversation. "The whole Wolfsbane situation distracted me."

"Understandable." Said Snape.

The silence fell between them once more and Harry bit his lip nervously. He was aware that the easy, simple topics were over. But he still wasn't sure how to approach the subjects in front of him. He thought about what Borgin had said, that the Death Eaters were escaping, that it was over, that he wouldn't have to fear again for his life. He knew that Snape would be able to tell him if those words had been true or not. But, suddenly, he was afraid about his possible answer. In a weird, strange way, he wasn't sure what would scare him more. The fact that Borgin was lying, and that there were still some enemies to fight, some battles to survive… Or that he was telling the truth and that there was nothing left to do but picking up the pieces and learning to live a normal, happy life.

Snape cleared his throat and Harry blinked, waking up from the trance he had entered in. He noticed that he had been sitting still, looking at his empty place, while the seconds passed and those thoughts swirled around his brain.

"Potter, aren't you…?" Snape began. "I mean, why haven't you…?" He paused for a few seconds and then tried again. "You… You don't seem, eh, curious or, let's say, eager to ask anything else. And I… I think I know why."

Harry frowned, had Snape read his mind? Had he seen in his eyes those doubts, those fears about Borgin's information? Was that why his voice sounded strange?

"Potter." Snape said, and Harry could hear it again. It was a weird, uncharacteristic sound. Something similar to… nervousness?

"Sir?"

Snape averted his gaze and Harry sensed it again, not only in his voice, but also in the atmosphere. The mood had suddenly changed from before. Now it felt delicate, tense, like glass that could break at any second. Harry didn't understand.

"You… Eh…" Snape started, looking uncomfortable. "When we were at… At Borgin's…" His eyes moved away from Harry's face, focusing on a particular interesting point on the wall behind his head. "You looked… You seemed… scared."

Harry frowned again, even more confused than before. Was that what was making Snape uncomfortable?

"Scared?" Was all he could say.

"Yes." The professor said, forcing his gaze to fall back onto the boy. "When I was… When I was asking him questions."

"Oh." Harry didn't say anything else, and an awkward silence fell between them. A small part of the boy noticed that it had been some time since that had happened. Lately, they always had something to talk about and their conversations flowed smoothly. What was going on?

"Were you?" Asked Snape, almost tentatively.

"Was I scared?" Harry met his eyes, not understanding. The Potions Master seemed concerned about it, which didn't make any sense. Since when had Snape worried about scaring anyone? It had been his favorite pastime, terrifying students. He had almost fed on it for the last seven years that Harry had known him.

"Yes, Potter." Sighed Snape, clearly trying not to lose patience.

"Well, I guess... I guess a little but-"

"Were you worried that I had suddenly reverted to my old ways?"

"W-what?"

"That I had fooled you? That I was still loyal to the Dark Lord?"

Harry looked at him in disbelief. So that was why Snape was feeling nervous? Because he thought Harry had doubted him? He contained the urge to sigh. The Potions Master could be so smart about some things and so blind about others.

"No, of course not." He hastened to say, shaking his head. "I know you are on our side. Why would I-?"

"You were scared to death, Potter." Snape cut him off. "You don't need to lie to-"

"I'm not lying." He said firmly. "And, yes, I was scared. But not for the reason you think."

Snape looked at him skeptically.

"Then why?"

"Well…" Started Harry. "You are scary. I wouldn't want to face you when you are like that. But in the same way that I didn't want to be Neville when he messed up in your class. It had nothing to do about me doubting you. Not after seeing your memories. Not after-"

"Memories can be altered." Snape said, though his expression had softened. He no longer showed as much nervousness as before. And the tense atmosphere had also dissipated somewhat.

"Not like that." Said Harry firmly. "Also, why would you lie? Back in the Shrieking Shack, you thought you were going to die. You had nothing to gain from giving me those memories. Besides," He added, seeing that Snape wanted to reply, "all those things that you did these last seven years, all those times that you saved my life… They wouldn't make sense if you weren't on our side."

"But-"

"And that is without mentioning everything that has happened this last month. I doubt you would have come to Remus' and Tonks funeral, talked to me, if you were on the Death Eaters side." Snape continued to look at him, still unconvinced, so Harry added: "And, besides, if you had wanted to kill me, you could have done that a thousand times while we were alone in your laboratory. A small Potions incident and, puff! No more Harry Potter." He smiled a little, gesturing with his hands, but Snape didn't find it funny. He was still looking at him, his brow frowned.

"I don't understand, Potter." He said, the confusion clear on his face. "You say you didn't doubt me. That you weren't scared about that. But there was something else in your face. It wasn't just fear...You looked... Disgusted, almost."

It was obvious that Snape was uncomfortable asking him about it, but also that he needed to hear the answer. And, although Harry would have preferred not to have to share his thoughts and emotions in this way, he knew that, if the professor had insisted, it was important to him.

"Well…" He started. "I guess I just… I just didn't like seeing you in 'Death Eater mode'. Not because I doubted you or anything." He added quickly. "But because… Because it reminded me of everything you had to do. As a spy I mean. And thinking about it… It made me sad." Confessed Harry. "It made me mad and disgusted. And I know. I know that life isn't fair." He said, reminding Snape of a sentence he had said long ago, during his Occlumency sessions. "But it should have been fairer to you."

Harry finished speaking, suddenly feeling very tired. He looked up to meet Snape's gaze. The man looked uncomfortable, as he usually did whenever he spoke of emotions or showed vulnerability, but also relieved. He cleared his throat and, in his deep, soft voice, said:

"I... appreciate your words, Potter. I am glad that my... performance at Borgin and Burkes did not cause you to doubt or rethink certain things. However," He added with a frown, "what you said... about how life should have been fairer to me... I must disagree. My life has been the product of my choices. Of my actions and my poor decisions. Everything I have had to endure as a result of my role in this War… It is nothing. Nothing compared to what I have done. To all the pain I have caused. And you should know that better than anyone."

Harry swallowed. He remembered finding out about Snape's involvement in his parents' deaths, and how much he had hated him in that moment. He had screamed at Dumbledore about it, anger pulsating through his veins, not understanding how the old man could trust Snape after knowing what he had done. Now, however, thinking about it, Harry couldn't feel one drop of hate inside him, not one bit of rage. He just felt sadness and a deep pain in his chest at the thought of how different things could have been. He could see the possibilities, the other roads that could have been taken. If only… If only his dad and Sirius hadn't targeted Snape, making his life at Hogwarts a living hell, pushing him into the Dark Arts, into that need to feel powerful and never afraid again … If only the Potions Master had been more honest with Lily, showing her how important she was for him, and how lost he felt without her, alone in the middle of Slytherin, where it was easier to fall for Voldemort's persuasive message… If only he had been stronger, not listened to the Dark Lord's siren's call, to the older students, to his own hatred for muggles, reflecting his anger at his father… If only… So many horrible things could have been avoided if only… But there was no point in thinking about almosts, about what could have happened… Down that road only madness could be found. And Harry had learned that no matter how much he wanted it, the past could not be changed.

With a deep sigh, he looked up at Snape and said.

"Sir, I…"

"There is nothing you can say that will change my mind, Potter. What I did… I will regret it until the day I die. And no matter how many Dark Lords I help defeat… It will never be enough."

Harry was silent for a few seconds, seeing the pain and self-hatred in Snape's face. He tried to find a way of making him see that, even if his mistakes could never be erased, after everything that he had done to atone for them he didn't need to keep suffering for the rest of his life. Quietly, he said:

"I won't try to convince you. I know you won't listen to me. But I do believe that, after everything, you deserve some sort of peace. Of happiness, even."

The Potions Master avoided his eyes, but Harry could see his throat moving, showing that those words had reached him.

"And" He added, "I hope that, with time, you are able to obtain them."

And it was that thought, that image of Snape living a calm, peaceful life, away from pain and fear, maybe with Harry as part of it, which gave him the strength he needed to ask the question he had been delaying for the last hour.

"Which takes me back to… To what Borgin told you." Harry said, his heart beating hard in his chest. "Such a life would be easier to obtain if… If what he said was true."

The expression on Snape's face showed surprise at that sudden change in the conversation. He blinked a few times, trying to recover from that last show of emotions.

"What he said…" Continued Harry. "About the Death Eaters giving up. About them not trying to get revenge or their power back… I mean, it sounds too good to be true." The boy met Snape's gaze. "Right, sir?"

"It does." The man agreed. "But, for once, it is true."

Harry's heart skipped a bit.

"What? I mean, are you sure, sir? How can you know for certain?"

"I looked into Borgin's eyes and saw it." Said Snape, raising in his chair, clearly relieved to be in control of the conversation once again. "He has never been a good Occlumens, and he was way too terrified to try to hide anything from me. If his rumors are true, and everything seems to indicate that they are… We shouldn't have to face a threat from the Death Eaters ever again. Which makes sense, considering that only a few managed to escape and that, now that everybody knows who they are, they have no means to obtain external support or gain power again…"

Harry nodded slowly, feeling Snape's eyes on him.

"Do I detect a hint of disappointment in your face, Potter?" Snape said, one eyebrow raised. "What is it? Do you wish you could have defeated them too, like you did with the Dark Lord? Are you upset that you won't have to fight them? That there is no more glory to be obtained?"

Harry frowned, offended.

"I'm not disappointed." He said. He knew that Snape was just trying to provoke him so that he could get the truth out of him. But still. He looked away from those dark eyes, as reality settled in. It was a strange thing to process. To know that he was, after all this time, finally free. Finally safe. Finally, without any clear path ahead of him, nothing to keep him going. No purpose... Was this how Snape had felt when Dumbledore had told him that Harry needed to die? Or, later, when he had woken up in the infirmary and found out that Voldemort was dead? Had it felt as surreal, as strange, as impossible?

"Potter." Snape called out to him. "Are you still here?"

Harry snapped out of it.

"Yes."

"Good. Then, if you are not disappointed… What is going on inside your head? Why do you have that expression on your face?"

Harry sighed, half annoyed at Snape's ability to read him and half relieved that he was asking about it.

"I'm not upset that we won't have to fight them." He told him, with a warning look. "These are good news, really."

"But…?"

"But… I don't know. I can't really explain it. It just feels… Weird? To be safe. To know that, from now on, it will just be just me and the future. Me and… And whatever I want it to be. Sorry." He said quickly. "I'm not making any sense. And, if I am, I probably sound like a spoiled brat. I know that so many people have died to reach this point, but I-"

"I don't think your reaction is that of a spoiled brat, Potter." Snape said, surprising him. "And I do think you are making sense."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are. You will find this surprising but, your experiences, are not unique in the entire world. There are other… survivors, for lack of a better word, that will probably feel the same way as you are doing right now."

Or, in other words, thought Harry, with a jolt of emotion, Snape felt the same way too. That was why he understood.

"I see." He said.

"It will get easier with time, I'm sure." Snape told him. "Your body and mind need to get used to not living in constant survival mode, that's all. And, about the future… You will have to deal with it like everybody else. But you will manage."

Harry nodded, more calm that before. But then Snape added something that made his heart speed up again.

"And all this talk about the Death Eaters and the future… Reminds me of the last topic that I wanted to discuss with you. Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't brought it up before… But, well, here we are."

"Sir?" Asked Harry, knowing the answer.

"The Malfoys." Said Snape, looking directly at him.

And, when their eyes met, Harry knew immediately why that topic had scared him so much. He understood the Potions Master more than he had ever done, but his relationship with the Malfoys was still a mystery to him. Which part of their interactions had been real? And which hadn't? He knew that some of them had been part of Snape's role, of his Death Eater act, but he was also aware that some of those feelings must have been true. He had taken the Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco, after all. And, once the War was over, Snape had seemed upset the few times that the Malfoys had been mentioned. What would happen then? If Harry wouldn't want to testify in their favor? Would the Potions Master force him to do it anyway? Who would he want to protect in that scenario? Him? Or the family who he had been closest to during the last twenty years? Who would Snape's priority be if it came to Harry versus them? And if, instead, the boy wanted to help Narcissa and Draco avoid prison? Would Snape agree with that choice? Or would he think that his sacrifices, his many years playing a spy weren't the same as two small lies said because of fear? Would he think that the whole family deserved to be sent to Azkaban then? And what would-

"Potter." Snape voice cut through his thoughts like a knife, shattering them. "Is everything okay?"

Harry blinked. Though he hadn't noticed, he had been looking into Snape's eyes all this time. He lowered his gaze and blushed. Had the man been able to read his thoughts as easily as he had Borgin's?

"I'm okay." He said quickly.

"You don't seem okay."

"Well, I am." Harry replied, stubbornly.

For a moment it seemed that Snape was going to throw him one of his usual sarcastic comments. But he stopped himself in time. Then he sighed slowly and gently, softly, said:

"Look, Potter. I… You don't need to worry."

"About what?" Asked Harry dreading the answer.

"About the Malfoys. My… My feelings in the matter… They are, let's say, complicated. It is true. But you…"

So he had read inside his mind then, thought Harry with embarrassment. Great.

"Sir, I-"

"No, Potter. Listen to me. It's important."

Harry swallowed, still not looking up, and Snape added:

"Look at me."

The boy took a deep breath and, summoning all his courage, forced his eyes to meet Snape's.

"I want you to listen to me carefully." He said, his dark gaze locked on Harry, enunciating every word. "You're going to do what you want. Whatever you decide. And I will support you in your choice, no matter what it is."

Harry opened his mouth in surprise, forgetting his embarrassment for the moment, and Snape took the opportunity to continue speaking:

"I just wish to understand… Why would you even consider helping them? Lucius has been one of the most prominent Death Eaters for the past two decades. His wife has supported him every step of the way… And you and Draco have hated each other from the first moment you met. What has changed? Why on earth did Borgin think that you would testify on their behalf?"

"I... I told Kingsley and Mr. Weasley about some things that happened during the War." Harry said, remembering. He had almost forgotten about that conversation. The memories of those first few days after defeating Voldemort were hazy and blurry. "Things Narcissa and Draco did. I guess they must have shared that information with other people in the Ministry which then spread until it reached Borgin."

Snape nodded slowly.

"That makes sense." He said. "About how he obtained the information, I mean. But what did Narcissa and Draco do that could make you change your mind about them?"

Harry bit his lip. He dreamed about the War and what had happened almost every night. But saying it out loud was different. He breathed in, trying to decide where to start.

"Well... In Draco's case, it all started with his behavior that night... in the Astronomy Tower."

He had avoided saying 'the night that Dumbledore died', but Snape understood. A spark of pain flickered in his eyes.

"Go on." He said.

"I... I could tell that his heart wasn't on it. He looked terrified. And he had lowered his wand before… Before it happened..." Harry swallowed. "And then, a few months ago, when we were at Malfoy Manor..." He took a deep breath, not wanting to reminisce about the horrors that had happened there. "Well, it's a long story… But when they captured us, Hermione cast a stinging curse on me so I wouldn't get recognized so easily. It worked, because neither the Snatchers nor Lucius were sure if it was really me. And they weren't going to risk summoning Voldemort without making sure first."

Snape's eyes were on him, and Harry wondered how much he knew of that story. Slowly, with images of that day swirling inside his mind, the boy told him what had happened. How Draco had been unable, or unwilling, to identify him.

"He said he wasn't sure." He explained. "But it was obvious that he knew it was me all along. And then, when he was asked to identify Ron and Hermione, he did the same thing." Seeing that Snape still hadn't said anything, he added, "I don't know… It may not seem like much, but... But I think it was all he could do in that situation. And it led me to believe that, just like in the Astronomy Tower, he didn't want to be there. He didn't want to do those things."

He looked up at Snape, trying to read his expression. The Potions Master had cocked his head to one side, as one does when trying to solve a complicated puzzle.

"I see." He said. "Is that all?"

Harry frowned. Did Snape have nothing to say to what he had just told him?

"No. There's more." He said anyway. "During the Battle we came face to face with him, as well as with Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe kept trying to hex us, but Draco told him several times to stop. He justified himself saying that Voldemort wanted me alive but… I don't know…"

Then, needing to hear Snape's thoughts, the reassurance that only the man sitting in front of him could give, he asked:

"Sir… Do you think I'm imagining things? That I'm seeing more than what actually happened?"

Snape ran a finger across his lower lip, thinking.

"I can't tell you what to believe, Potter. It is possible that Draco wasn't trying to protect you. That he simply didn't recognize you or your friends. Such things can happen when the brain locks up in times of stress. And it is also possible that, as he told Crabbe, he just wanted to keep you alive for the Dark Lord..."

"It's possible." Agreed Harry. "But you don't believe that."

"No." Snape told him. "I don't."

Harry nodded, relief crossing his face at those words.

"So, you think Draco was trying to help me?"

"I do…" Said Snape softly. "But Potter... As I told you before, I don't want to influence your choice. I'm not going to tell you what to do."

"I know, but-"

"If what Draco did is enough to save him from Azkaban... That's only for you to decide."

"But why? Why should it be me?"

"Who else? Who else knows everything that he has done better than you?"

Harry swallowed, feeling the weight of that responsibility on his shoulders. Seeing his reaction, Snape added:

"But you don't have decide here, now. You will have time to think about it. At least until the trial takes place. If you want my suggestion... I would get all the information on the table, get all the facts out, before considering any outcome."

"Sir?"

"Narcissa." Said Snape. "Borgin mentioned her too."

"Yes." Nodded Harry.

"What did she do? How did she help you?"

Harry took a deep breath, remembering. Images flashed through his mind... the forest, Hagrid yelling at him to run away, the green light of the Avada Kedavra illuminating his closed eyelids, before everything went dark. Then, the white and clean train station, Dumbledore's face smiling at him and, finally, the cold, humid earth against his cheek. He thought about Narcissa's hands on him, checking his pulse, and her hair hiding his face as she asked about Draco.

"She… She lied to Voldemort." Harry said, causing Snape to look at him in surprise. He then began explaining what had happened, as the man's expressions changed from hidden unease at hearing how Harry had been hit with the killing curse, to curiosity when he mentioned how Voldemort had fallen to the ground too. When he finally reached Narcissa's lie, Snape said:

"Why do you think she did it?"

"¿Lie? Well, I'm guessing that she didn't do it to help me. She just wanted to find Draco, to make sure he was alive. And she knew that, if the fight went on, she wouldn't be able to reach the Castle safely."

Snape nodded.

"Yes, I think that is a correct assumption. At that point, both her and Lucius couldn't care less about the Dark Lord. About whether he lost or won. They just wanted to keep their family safe."

Harry remembered the three of them, sitting on a bench in the Great Hall after everything was over, just holding each other.

"Do you think…" He started, unsure. "Is it possible that they have rejected their blood purity views? After everything that has happened?"

It took Snape a few moments to answer.

"I… I don't think so, Potter. Lucius and Narcissa's beliefs are deeply ingrained on them. They have both grown up thinking that they are practically royalty, that their pureblood status makes them better than everyone else. It will take time for them to unlearn those things they once believed to be fundamental truths. If they ever will completely… But I am sure that, if a Dark Wizard were to rise again, they wouldn't support him. Not like before. They know now what they could lose. And they won't risk it."

Harry bit his lip.

"What about Draco?"

"His upbringing is the same as his parents. But he is still young. And he has suffered a lot." Snape sighed. "And that suffering has come at the hands of his Master, not those he once considered inferior to him. I think it is possible that he could learn the error of his ways."

"Just like you did." Harry said softly.

Snape looked at him for a few seconds.

"Just like I did." He said finally.

Harry nodded to himself. Throughout his conversation with Snape, an idea had been forming in his head. The only way that he would be sure of what to do.

"Okay." He said. "I want to go see them."

"Excuse me?"

"The Malfoys." Said Harry. "I want to see them. Talk to them. Before I can make a decision."

Snape was looking at him with surprise.

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's just… Well, they are on house arrest, right? So that might be a bit of a problem. I don't think the Ministry allows them many visitors."

The surprise on Snape's face was still there, but a hint of amusement had joined it now.

"I don't think you are aware of the fact that you are Harry Potter." He said, and Harry could see annoyance in his expression, but less than there once would have been. "You could ask them to build you a gold castle and they would do it, for Merlin's sake…"

Harry's face reddened.

"I wouldn't ask them to-"

"I know, Potter." Snape sighed. "The point is that you could. Just tell Kingsley what you want to do. I am sure there won't be a problem. In fact, I'm guessing he will personally open the doors of the Manor for you."

Harry's cheeks were still on fire, and Snape's words weren't helping, but he felt more confident on his request. Holding onto that sensation, he said:

"Okay. I will ask him as soon as I can. But there is something else."

"Of course, your majesty." Snape said with sarcasm.

Harry ignored him and added:

"I want you to come with me."

The moment he heard those words, the sarcastic expression left Snape's face.

"Potter…" He said. Harry saw a hint of fear and worry in his eyes, but also something that he could only describe as longing. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?"

"You going there is one thing, but me… I am a former Death Eater; it would look like I'm trying to conspire with them. To free them, even."

"It won't." Said Harry firmly. "Kingsley believes in your innocence, as do most of the Aurors."

"What about the Malfoys?" Asked Snape. "I don't think they will be too happy to see me…"

"How can you be sure?"

Snape raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Have you forgotten about my betrayal of the Dark Lord?"

"I haven't, but they betrayed him too." Replied Harry. "You said it yourself that they didn't care whether he won or lost."

"That's true but-"

"Don't you want to see them?" Said Harry, cutting him off. "After everything that has happened?"

Snape tensed at those words and Harry held his breath. The last time that he had tried to tell the man what to do, it hadn't gone too well. But the Potions Master simply sighed, as that spark of longing appeared again in his eyes.

"Potter…"

"They might not even know that you are still alive." Added Harry. "I doubt they are receiving too much information from the outside world. And, besides, I'm worried that their pride is going to get in the way. That they'd rather go to prison than try to convince me to testify on their behalf. And seeing you could make them more open to talk to me."

"Is that why you want to go there?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "So they can convince you?"

"No. That's not what I meant." Said Harry rapidly. "I want to hear what they have to say. Look at their faces and see if I can trust them, even if just a bit…" He saw Snape's expression and added: "I'm not naïve, I know we won't hug and hold hands and live happily ever after. But I want to make sure that I've gathered all the information I can before deciding whether to send them to prison or not. And I think it would be easier if you came with me."

Snape sighed again, though this time his face showed less resistance than before. Harry saw it and, knowing that he must not let the moment slip away, feeling victory at his fingertips, he added:

"Will you, sir? Please?"

Snape's eyes sought his own and there they were again: fear, worry, yes; but, attached to them, that spark of longing that had only grown while the minutes passed. He wanted to see them again. Harry knew it. And now all that was left was for the Potions Master himself to realize it. The boy could see the moment it happened, the change in Snape's face. And he knew, then, that he had convinced him.

"All right, Potter." He said slowly, with effort. "You win. I'll go with you."