“Evans, we should keep moving.”

Snape's voice came from behind him, muffled by the sound of animals flapping their wings, hooting and chirping. Harry stared at the shop in front of them, his feet unmoving.

“Evans.” Snape called him again. “What’s going on? Is there anything you need from here?”

Harry’s heart squeezed at the question. There was something he needed, yes. Something he wanted desperately. Something that had come from that exact shop seven years ago. He could almost see her there; elegant and beautiful, her white feathers surrounding her like freshly fallen snow, her orange eyes glowing, showing an intelligence that was above that of a common owl.

“I…”

Harry blinked, and the magic disappeared. It wasn’t her. The thing flapping its white wings, reflected against the glass of the store, was just another snowy owl. One of many. It wasn’t his loyal friend. It wasn’t Hedwig.

“No.” He said, shaking his head. “I don’t need anything. I just… I thought I saw something.”

Snape’s gaze was on him, and Harry could see a spark of understanding on it.

“Let’s go.” He said quickly, before the professor could ask him about it. He started to walk away and, as he did so, the sound of animals diminished, and so did the pain in his chest.

They moved through Diagon Alley in silence, as the sunshine bounced feebly against the buildings and shadows grew larger with each passing minute. It was late afternoon, and some shops were closing early. Their owners probably thought that most customers had already left the alley and that it wasn’t worth it to stay open. In any case, Harry wasn’t worried. They had left the café a few hours ago and, by now, they had bought almost everything that they needed to.

First, they had gone to Madam Malkin’s, where Harry had purchased a new set of robes. They weren’t embroidered with Gryffindor’s lion, as the boy wasn’t sure if he would be coming back to school. But, still, it had felt nice to wear them. The soft and warm fabric had brought back a sliver of normalcy, if only for a second. He had been trying them on when, with one look at Madam Malkin, the feeling had disappeared. The plump woman was being polite, talking to Harry and smiling slightly. But her body tensed, and her voice filled with coldness whenever she looked at Snape. Harry had wanted to say something to her, then. To tell her that the man was innocent, that there was no need to react like that. But his face was still unrecognizable, hidden under the Potion’s Master spell, and Madam Malkin wouldn’t believe the word of a random student.

Truth be told, Harry didn’t see a point in hiding his identity. They had obtained all the information that they could from Borgin. And every customer and goblin inside Gringotts had seen him walk in and out with Snape. But the man had insisted on calling him Evans and he hadn’t offered to remove the enchantment from his face Harry figured that he was doing it to protect him, to keep people from gossiping, but still… A small part of him couldn’t help but wonder if Snape was ashamed of being seen in public with the famous Harry Potter. If he was worried that the magical world would find out about their newly formed friendship, and comment on how strange it was that two people who once hated each other were now doing normal things together, like shopping for clothes or potions ingredients.

That had been their next destination, after Madam Malkin’s shop, the apothecary in Diagon Alley. The owner, an old man with white hair and wrinkles around his eyes, had greeted them warmly and had seemed genuinely pleased to see Snape. As the minutes passed, it had become clear that the two had known each other for many years. Harry could hear it in the older man's voice, full of relief as he told Snape how glad he was to see him alive and well. And also in more subtle ways, such as the fact that, after showing him the list, the Potions Master had let him pick up the ingredients without doing it himself. The owner had known exactly which particular ones Snape wanted, which size and color each root, horn or feather should be. Harry had watched the scene quietly, wondering if he would ever be able to understand Snape like that, hoping with all his might that he eventually would.

After buying the ingredients, the Potions Master had placed them all inside the pockets of his robes, where they had fit impossibly. Even if Harry knew about extension charms, it still had been incredible to see the materials disappear just like that.

He had been thinking about how grateful he was that magic existed when Snape had turned once more to the apothecary, asking for a specific type of cauldron and a pair of sturdy-looking gloves. That had made Harry frown, as those were things that he had intended to buy. When he saw Snape approaching the counter, golden coins in his hand, the boy had started to complain.

“But, sir, there’s no need to-”

“Nonsense.” The Potions Master had cut him off. “You are working for me, helping me, so I will pay for the materials you need.”

Harry had opened his mouth to retort, wanting to say that Snape had also paid for both of their meals at the café. But one look from the professor had been enough to make him realize that he wouldn't convince him. And the boy, grudgingly, had accepted defeat.

Their last stop, where they were heading now, was a bookstore on the far end of the alley. There, Harry wanted to buy more advanced books on potions, defense, herbology and charms. Subjects that interested him and that he believed would be useful for the future. When he had told Snape about it, the man had agreed that it was indeed a wise decision to keep learning as much as he could. But he had added that he would give him some pointers as to which particular books he should get.

“Anybody with half a brain can get published, doesn’t mean that they know what they are talking about. Remember Lockhart.”

Harry had nodded then, grateful for the help.

“Here we are.”

Snape’s voice brought him back to the present, causing the boy to blink. His mind had been distracted, memories of Hedwig moving through his brain, painting his thoughts with grief and longing. Once his eyes refocused, Harry saw where they were. They had arrived to the bookstore, as the sign above their heads clearly indicated. He tried looking at the inside from the window, but a thick, dark curtain blocked his view. Harry figured it was to protect the books from the sunlight.

“Come on.” Snape said, opening the wooden door.

Harry followed as the bell rang, announcing their presence. He took a look at the place they had just entered and saw that they were standing in a small hallway illuminated by candlelight, with a spiraling staircase a few meters in front of them. There was no one there, but Snape didn’t seem bothered by it; he kept walking forward, up the stairs, with Harry following close behind. Once they reached the end of the stairwell, the boy let out an impressed gasp. They were on a room almost as big as the Great Hall at Hogwarts, only it was filled by more books than Harry had ever seen in his life. Hundreds and hundreds of bookcases filled the whole place, raising from the ground to the ceiling like a forest of ancient trees, creating a labyrinth that extended as far as his eyes could see.

“Can I help you?”

Harry jumped. The voice had come from his right, where a small woman was sitting behind a table. An enormous book lay open in front of her. She tore her eyes from it, looking at them from behind her reading glasses.

“Yes…” The boy started. “We, uh, we wanted...”

“We wanted some advanced books on Herbology, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions.” Snape intervened.

The lady smiled, the wrinkles around her mouth showing against her dark skin.

“Yes, of course.” She said. “Academic books: section B-seventeen. Go straight and then turn right after the third crossing.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, as Snape turned back on his heels and started walking along the corridor of bookcases. He hastened to follow, trying to focus on the man’s black boots to not get distracted by everything that was going on around him. But it was hard, there were so many things to look at… Books that shone, that changed color or threw sparks from their covers, volumes that moved, shaking slightly or even completely jumping up and down on their bookcases… And there were noises too. He could hear voices talking from behind him, a woman’s laughter coming from a book up ahead, something that sounded like crying from a volume to his left… He understood now why Snape had brought them all this way, instead of just going to the usual Flourish and Botts like Harry had planned to do. In here, they would be able to find every single book that they were searching for and more.

As they turned right on the third crossing, just as the woman had told them, Harry started thinking about his friends. He needed to bring them here someday, specially Hermione. She would love it. His lips formed a small smile, imagining her reaction. He had just pictured the way her eyes would sparkle, and Ron’s desperate expression at her need to look into every section, when Snape stopped so suddenly that he almost crashed onto him.

The professor was standing still, looking upwards at the bookshelves that stretched towards the ceiling, finishing a dozen meters over their heads. There must have been hundreds of volumes just in one of them. Harry wondered how on earth would they find what they needed before the store closed. It would take hours to examine every single book in the section. Luckily for him, Snape knew the answer to the unformulated question.

He took his wand out from the inside of his robes and then flicked it. In a blink, some words appeared in front of the bookshelves, floating weightless at different heights. Harry read the one above his head. It said “Herbology”. He squinted his eyes, searching for the other words and noticed that they were all school subjects. To his right he could see Magical Runes, Arithmancy and History of Magic. And when he turned to his left, to where Snape was standing, he saw the word Potions floating gently near the professor. Clearly, the words marked what topic the books underneath them were about.

Harry was about to ask what they should do now when Snape waved his wand once more, pointing towards the Potions section. In an instant, a book left the shelf and lowered itself towards them. The professor grabbed it and then turned it around to examine the cover. Harry saw that there was a cauldron painted on it, with a bluish potion that spun and bubbled. The book must have been the one Snape had wanted, because he nodded and let go of it again, causing it to float gently next to him. Then he looked up, and Harry understood that he was searching for the other subjects.

“There’s Herbology here.” The boy said, pointing in front of him.

He felt Snape move closer to the bookcase and he did the same. He had taken just a few steps towards it when the smell of earth, leaves and grass reached his nose. He breathed in, appreciating those scents. His eyes roamed the spines of the volumes, taking in the beautiful floral details on them. Then, next to a tome encased in purple violets, Harry saw a familiar name.

“Oh, I know this one.” He said.

It was the textbook that they had used during fifth year. The image of Professor Sprout holding it, standing in the greenhouse came to his mind. And then another one joined it: Neville, eyes shining with excitement as he listened to the teacher speak. Those memories sparked something inside him, the beginning of an idea.

Before he could say or do anything else, Harry felt an object fly past him, making him jump. He looked around, startled, but it was just another book. It had slowed down and now floated in front of Snape, just as the Potions one from before.

“Careful.” Harry said, rubbing his head, even though the book hadn’t touched him. “Those things are heavy.”

“Oh, I know.” Said Snape with one of those smirks of his. “Which is why you should learn not to be in their path.”

Harry couldn’t help the little chuckle that left his lips.

“That’s fair.” He said, knowing that, as long as Snape didn’t want it to, the book would never hit him.

He fixed his eyes on the flying volume. A vine curled around the spine, covering it with its green leaves. The tittle and author’s name were written on it, in bright golden letters.

“Uh, sir?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Potter?”

He was using his real name again, the boy noticed. He supposed that meant they were alone in the store.

“I, um, I wanted to ask you… Could you please summon a second copy of the book?

Snape frowned.

“Of the Herbology one?

“Yes.”

“Why would you want a second copy?” He said, looking at him with a curious expression. “Are you so sure that you will destroy the first one?”

“No, of course not.” Harry shook his head, starting to regret asking. “I just… Well, I thought Neville would like it.”

“Longbottom?” The surprise was evident on Snape’s features.

“Yes.”

“Why would Longbottom need this book?”

“It’s not that he needs it.” Muttered Harry. “I just thought he would enjoy reading it, that’s all.”

Snape’s eyes were on him, studying his face.

“Is it his birthday?” He asked, with an eyebrow raised.

It wasn’t. Not for another month and half. Neville and Harry had been born one day apart, which was one of the reasons why the prophecy could have been about either of them. Harry knew it, and so did Snape. Despite that, the boy answered the question.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Then?” Snape said, his eyebrow still raised. “Is there a particular reason why you would want to buy him a gift?”

Harry bit his lip. The part of himself that had fought Snape for seven years, that had grown accustomed to tensing up and responding sarcastically to any comment he made, had been on the verge of saying something he would have regretted instantly. Something about how, sometimes, it was nice to buy things for friends without any motivation behind it. Which the professor would know if he had any...

But they didn’t fight anymore. Not like they used to, without any regard for each other’s feelings. And Snape did have friends; Harry himself could be considered one of them. It wasn't the Professor's fault if the question had upset him, if it had touched on a sensitive subject. Shaking his head, pushing those ugly thoughts away, Harry said:

“No. There isn’t a particular reason. Sometimes, it’s just nice to buy things for your friends.”

Snape kept his gaze on him for a few seconds. Then, he flicked his wand, and another copy of the book flew from the bookcase towards them. It stayed right next to its twin, floating simultaneously up and down the air.

“Thank you, sir.” Said Harry with relief. “I… I really appreciate your help in all of this.” He gestured vaguely with his hands. ‘All of this’ meaning the books, the store they were in, the new gloves and cauldron that Harry had placed inside his bag, the ingredients hiding in Snape’s robes...

“You don’t have to thank me, Potter.” Snape said. Then his voice went deeper as he added: “I just wish you would be honest with me.”

“S-Sir?” Harry knew Snape hadn’t completely believed his explanation about Neville, but he hadn’t expected him to actually ask about it.

“You know I can always tell when you are lying, right?” Snape pressed on. His voice was surprisingly gentle.

“I’m not-”

“Or when you are not telling the whole truth.” The professor added.

Harry closed his mouth and kept his gaze on the flying books for a few seconds. He then breathed deeply, half annoyed, half moved by Snape’s interest.

“It’s nothing, really.” He finally said, turning his gaze back to the Potions Master. “It’s just a stupid thing…”

Snape gave him a look that said ‘clearly’ and Harry sighed.

“I mean it. I was telling the truth before, about wanting to do something nice for Neville.” He said, pointing with his head towards the book. “But you are right… There is something else.”

Snape nodded slowly. Then he cleared his throat and said something that Harry wasn’t expecting.

“Does Miss Weasley know?”

Harry blinked, confusion on his features.

“Ginny?” He asked. “I mean, I haven’t talked to her about this particular topic but… I think she would understand.”

Snape seemed surprised at that.

“Really? I thought you two were… Eh… Involved.”

There was a long pause. Silence fell between them as Harry connected the dots. When he did, his expression turned from confusion to understanding and, finally, to embarrassment.

“Wait…” He started, his face red. “Sir, what do you…? What do you think is happening here?”

Snape’s brow frowned.

“I… I thought you were trying to… express your feelings for Longbottom.” He said, and Harry could see his own embarrassment reflected on the professor’s face. It had been there before; he just hadn’t been able to decipher it. Now, however, all the pieces fell into place, and he understood the reason behind that reaction.

“I wasn’t.” Harry said quickly. “I mean, Neville is great and everything but… But I like Ginny and we are doing good and I…” He stopped, not sure how to continue. He couldn’t believe that he was talking about girls (and boys) with Snape. The situation was so bizarre… And the weirdest thing of all was that part of himself didn’t hate the idea of talking about such personal topics with the professor. The awkwardness was there, for sure, but just knowing that the man had been willing to ask about it, to discuss it… No many adults in Harry’s life would have done that.

"Well, I admit that I am confused, Potter." Snape said, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, using that formal, almost scientific voice of his. It was like he believed that if he ignored his and Harry's discomfort, it would go away. "Why would you want to buy a present for Longbottom then? And why would you hide the actual reason?”

Harry decided to follow Snape’s example and kept talking like nothing happened.

“It’s not a big deal… It’s just… Well, Neville and I… we haven’t been talking much lately. Not since the Battle, at least. It’s not like we argued or anything.” He hurried to explain. “But I feel like I haven’t been doing enough to keep in touch with him. And I thought that, maybe, gifting him the book could help with that.”

“I see.” The Potions Master nodded.

When he didn’t add anything else, Harry shook his head. Snape might not think it important, but it was something that worried and troubled him. He took a deep breath, trying to convey exactly how much.

“It’s just… They stayed at Hogwarts to fight for me.” He said, lowering his gaze. “To give me a chance to defeat Voldemort and I-”

“They?”

“My friends.” Harry said. “Not only Neville but also Luna, Seamus, Dean... All the members of Dumbledore’s Army, really.” He thought about Fred, about Colin Creevey, gone too soon. He thought about Lavander Brown, mauled by Greyback, scarred and still recovering in Saint Mungo but, thankfully, alive. “They went through so much to help me, and I can’t even answer to their owls with more than a few sentences. I can’t even spare a day to see them.”

“Potter…”

“I just feel guilty.” He admitted. “It seems like all I have been doing since the War ended is basically nothing. I’ve gone to the Burrow a few times a week, read a couple of books and brewed some potions with you. But that’s about it.”

That made Snape frown.

“You are not giving yourself enough credit, Potter. You have buried friends, tried to deal with your grief and survived as well as you could have. It seems enough to me.” He said seriously. “Not to mention… ‘Brewing some potions with me’ is not a simple task. You know I wouldn’t have accepted any poor performance or half-baked jobs. You have shown focus, skill and hard work. That takes energy and effort on your part.”

Harry breathed in. Snape’s words helped, especially since the professor wasn’t one to hand compliments. But still, the guilt didn’t completely go away.

“I know what you mean, sir. And I appreciate you saying that.” Harry replied. “But I can’t shake this feeling that I should be doing much more.”

There was a moment of silence, in which the only noise came from the books moving up and down around them. Then, Snape searched Harry’s eyes with his own and said slowly:

“Potter, you know me. You know I won’t lie to you to spare your feelings. So, believe me when I say: nobody thinks that you should do more. Nobody is even thinking about you. Your friends and everybody else who has survived the War… they probably have enough on their plate to worry whether the famous Harry Potter has been paying them enough attention.”

“That’s not what I -” Harry started to complain.

“I know. But my point stands.” He said firmly. “Besides, have they come to see you at Grimmauld Place? At the Burrow?”

Harry bit his lip.

“No, but-”

“And do you believe them to be the worst friends imaginable? Do you think that they haven’t done enough? That they have ignored you on purpose?”

Snape’s arguments were very convincing, as usual. Harry scratched his scar out of habit.

“No, I don’t.”

Snape nodded, a satisfied expression on his face.

“There you go, then.”

Silence fell between them, as Harry pondered the Professor's words. He felt lighter than before, and the fact that Snape had gone out of his way to reassure him meant a lot. Since the conversation they'd had after Remus and Tonks' funeral, the Potions Master had improved enormously. It had now become usual for him to show patience and understanding, as well as and his own particular type of kindness. It warmed Harry to know that he was trying so hard, and that he had believed him when he said he could become a better person.

But Snape wasn’t done with the topic, with a quick glance in his direction, he added.

“Just one more thing, Potter, before we move on.”

Harry looked up, meeting his dark eyes.

“If you want to talk with your friends more, if you want to visit them, if you want to give them presents…” Snape said. “Then go ahead; do it. Send the letter, show up at their house, buy the book… But do it because you want to. Not out of guilt. Not out of some stupid pressure you put on yourself.”

Snape voice trailed off, and Harry couldn’t help but nod. The Potions Master was right, as always.

“I… I will, sir. Thank you. I really appreciate your insight and your wisdom and-”

“Ah, yes. Everybody knows that I am the biggest expert in understanding human relationships and their intricacies. I am always glad to share my knowledge on the topic.”

Snape’s voice had been neutral, his face expressionless, but his words made Harry chuckle. The sound caused a small smirk to appear on the man’s face.

“Alright, enough of that.” He said after a few seconds of placid silence. “We have a few more books to find, in case you forgot.”

“I didn’t, sir.”

“Good.” Snape said. “Then let’s go find them."

And with that, they continued their search.

Finding the next volumes proved to be more challenging that the previous two. Mainly because the Charms section was placed high above their heads, away from where the summoning charm could reach it. Snape explained that the books were enchanted so that they couldn’t be called from a distance larger than five meters. It would be too chaotic and dangerous to have large tomes flying around from one side of the store to the other.

The solution, Snape had told Harry, causing his face to light up, was to stand on a small platform that moved up towards the ceiling, closer to the desired section. They had done that, Harry and the professor standing on something that moved vertically like lift. Then, once they had reached the top of the bookcase, Snape had flicked his wand, causing a volume to fly towards them. This one had light blue sparks that shot from its cover, fading slightly with the passage of time until they disappeared. Harry was grateful for that; it would have been too distracting to focus on reading the book if it kept going forever.

After they had made it back to ground level, they found the Defense Against the Dark Arts section pretty easily. From then, it only took a few seconds for Snape to summon the book he wanted. It was a weird volume: on its cover, ripples of white and black paint moved up and down, looking as if light and darkness were dancing around each other. Always touching, always trying to encase the other one, never fully accomplishing it.

At that point, Harry had thought that they were done searching, but Snape had looked around once more, fixing his black eyes on the shelf in front of him. Then, he had pointed his wand at it and another book had come flying. It had a dark cover, so black that seemed to swallow the light around it.

“Given your interest and past abilities shown in Defense… It is fair to think that you will finish that first volume pretty quickly. This second one should keep you busy for a while longer.”

Harry had tried to hide his satisfied smile and nodded.

“Thank you, sir.”

After that, Snape had decided that they were done. Together, they walked the road back to the entrance of the store. Harry looked around hungrily, trying to keep every single detail of that amazing place inside his brain. However, once they started to approach the woman sitting by her desk, the boy increased his pace to reach it before Snape. He was not going to let the man pay again.

“Pot… Evans.” Snape corrected himself in time. But it was too late, that split second hesitation had been enough for Harry to place a generous amount of Galleons on the table.

The lady nodded, looking up at the floating volumes. She then took a couple coins for every one of them, until only a few remained from the bunch Harry had given her. But the boy wasn’t surprised, books like those were expensive, and he had bought six of them. Finally, feeling the displeasure emanating from Snape, Harry packed his new purchase inside his extended bag. He then gave his best smile to the woman and began moving towards the exit.

As he walked down the stairs, he could feel Snape’s eyes on his back, sense his scowling. But it wasn’t until they were back out on the street, illuminated with the orange light of the streetlamps, that the man said something.

“I did not want you to do that, Potter.” He said, annoyance evident on his face.

The street was empty, the sun had disappeared, and Harry knew that they should go home too. But he didn’t want to leave without dissipating Snape’s irritation. He started walking up the road and said:

“I know, sir. But it wasn’t fair for you to pay for all my stuff. That was the reason why we went to Gringotts this morning, so I could provide for myself.”

Had it really been this morning? So many things had happened: the bank, Borgin and Burkes, the Café, their shopping in Diagon Alley...

“Potter…”

“What? It’s not like I’m wasting money. I bought things that I needed. You said it yourself, sir, that it was smart to get more books.” Harry reminded him. “Besides, why would you want to pay for my things? You don’t have to.” He wasn’t Harry’s father, nor his tutor or his mentor.

“I know that I don’t have too.” Said Snape firmly. Then, they passed under a light and Harry could see a shade of pink on his cheeks. “I just… I just wanted to...”

The boy looked up, waiting for the second part of the sentence that Snape wasn’t saying. He knew that, if he stayed silent for enough time, it would eventually come.

“It’s like you said before.” Snape added after a couple of painfully quiet minutes. “Sometimes it’s just nice to buy things for… for your friends.”

He had said that last part softly, almost whispering, but Harry heard it either way. Affection for the man filled his chest and, even though there was some awkwardness there too, he pushed on. Snape was opening up and, if the situation felt slightly weird, Harry wasn’t going to show it. That would only make the professor close off again.

“I… Thank you, sir. It’s not like I don’t appreciate the gesture.” He told him. “But you have been paying for most of my things today. I can buy some of my stuff too, you know? Besides, those books were way too expensive and-”

Harry stopped talking, his eyes looking up ahead, at a shop a dozen meters in front of them.

“Potter?” Snape asked, moving his gaze towards the same spot as the boy’s. “What’s the matter?”

“There’s someone in there.” Harry took out his wand and started walking quickly.

There was a light coming from inside the store. A store that had once been bright with fireworks, with noise and laughter, with objects that bounced and flashed. Harry approached the door. He could feel Snape behind him, and he saw, from the corner of his eye, that he too had his wand in his hand, and his posture was alert, ready to fight.

With one last deep breath, Harry put a hand on the handle and opened the door of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The warm night air entered inside the shop, and the figure standing there turned around, the wind blowing in his hair.