Spiral of Despair by Henna Hypsch
Summary: A year after Voldemort’s death, Harry and Snape have reached a brittle reconciliation with one another. Harry wishes Snape would speak more to him about Lily, but Snape is being stubbornly secretive and jealous of his private life. Harry’s own relationship with Ginny is getting shakier. Hermione has initiated a campaign in the press against Obliviating spells which will have unexpected consequences for Neville Longbottom, and the Auror Office is looking for Voldemort’s son, without really believing that he exists.

In the second part of “Spiral” Harry goes to medical school at St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and lives at Grimmauld Place in London with Ginny, Ron and Hermione. As to Snape, he is a multitasking headmaster who seems to turn up ever so often in Harry’s life.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Arthur, Ginny, Hagrid, Hermione, Luna, McGonagall, Molly, Neville, Other, Ron
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 8 - Post Hogwarts (young adult Harry)
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Romance/Het, Romance/Slash, Suicide Themes
Challenges: None
Series: Spiral
Chapters: 23 Completed: Yes Word count: 98719 Read: 8394 Published: 28 Aug 2022 Updated: 27 Nov 2022
Chapter 10 The Letter by Henna Hypsch

Late in the afternoon the next day, Harry was sitting opposite Mrs Steadfast in her office, going through the results of his exam. The head of the Aurors had given him much praise, concluding that not only was he keeping up on a theoretical level but, not surprisingly, he was also well ahead when it came to defence practices. She sounded encouraging, yet a bit distant and off, not quite herself. Maybe she was only tired, thought Harry - she must have been through the entire class today, repeating herself many times over, and Harry was the last on the list. But as he rose to leave, he caught a shadow of sadness passing over her face and he could not prevent himself from asking:

“Are you okay, Mrs Steadfast?”

She looked at him in surprise, trying to put her features in place, not quite succeeding.

“I’m fine, thank you, Harry,” she said, turning her head and biting her lip. She actually looked as if she was going to start crying. Harry sat down again.

“Is it because of Professor Snape?” he asked cautiously.

“Severus?” Mrs Steadfast sounded genuinely puzzled and Harry blushed, regretting his presumption. Mrs Steadfast sighed. “I’m getting nowhere with Severus,” she said, surprising Harry with her honesty. ”Nowhere at all… despite dining together all over Muggle London… and maybe it’s just as well. I’m abysmal at relationships.” She gave away a sad little laugh and Harry smiled back.

”It’s never easy,” he mumbled, thinking of Ginny.

“How is she?” Mrs Steadfast asked, picking up his thread of thought with ease. Harry sighed.

”Oh…” He paused. ”If you ask her, she’ll say that she’s having the best time of her life right now,” he said hesitatingly. “Playing Quidditch, partying…”

“She’s a wild one,” Mrs Steadfast nodded to herself. “So was I once… You should take care, Harry, not to try to restrain her. There’s no point - I’d say it’s virtually impossible with such a disposition.”

“I’ve realized that already,” Harry murmured. ”And I like her disposition even if it’s different from mine. I don’t feel any impulse of holding her back, it’s just that… I’m not entirely sure that she is happy, if you know what I mean? There’s a restlessness to her which drives her to search for more, for something better, for new things, all the time. Now, she’s talking about moving to France, playing for the Quidditch league in Le Grand Eclat…”

“Having her move abroad would be hard for you, I see,” said Mrs Steadfast with sympathy.

“I thought we’d have at least a year together in London,” Harry said dispiritedly.

“It’s better to let her explore the world now, before you settle down, Harry, believe me,” Mrs Steadfast tried to console him. “Me, I married early, had my daughter at twenty and my son at twenty-two while training to become an Auror. Moved to the US at twenty-four and divorced not long thereafter…” Her voice trailed off and she looked unhappy again.

“What happened?” Harry asked cautiously. Mrs Steadfast sighed deeply.

“My husband was almost as impatient and as ambitious as I was. Everything happened too fast for us to handle, but the bottom line of it was that we were not suited for each other. I don’t regret the divorce, but the manner in which it came about is catching up with me at the moment.” Her voice broke. “I’m sorry, Harry, this must be embarrassing for you.” She dabbed her eyes with a piece of cloth and cleared her voice. “You caught me at a bad moment. I had a letter from my daughter this afternoon and I haven’t had time to process it yet.”

“Bad news?” Harry asked alarmed. Mrs Steadfast sighed again.

“Old news…” she said with exasperation. “It’s the same story all over again. I don’t know when they’re going to forgive me.” She drew a hacking breath and dabbed her eyes again. “So sorry, I’m making a fool of myself, am I not?”

“Don’t worry, Mrs Steady,” said Harry softly. “I’m only your student part time, and I’m practically a healer, broadly speaking.” He smiled at her then asked gravely. “Why won’t they forgive you? When you say ’they’ I suppose you mean your children?” Mrs Steadfast nodded with a new gush of tears, a sob and more dabbing.

“My daughter is twenty-four today and my son is twenty-two – not much older than you in fact. They were very young when we divorced, but… I thought that we sorted it out reasonably well at the time… considering our differences… We alternated with the children on a weekly basis. It was hard to be separated from them, but I worked a lot when they were not at home, and we found a rhythm, or so I thought… They both grew up so quickly and, before I knew it, they had entered their higher magical education programs, preparing for work. A year ago my daughter was about to move to Britain to complete her last year of studies here. That was why I applied for the post as Head of the Aurors in London in the first place. That, and to be close to my grandmother who’s getting old and who needs someone to look after her.”

Harry lifted his eyebrows. He had met Betty Steadfast, former Head of the Aurors, last spring, and although elderly, she had struck him as a tough old lady.

“At this point…” Mrs Steadfast swallowed hard. ”At this point, my former husband found it fit to tell my children why we separated all those years ago. We had not entered into it specifically when they were younger, and they had not asked… otherwise I would’ve explained - I would’ve explained! As it was, it all came out wrong. They only heard their dad’s side of the story, and… and… They’ve been cross with me ever since.” Mrs Steadfast’s voice broke again.

Harry stayed silent but looked at Mrs Steadfast with compassion. Did she want to confide in him? She chose to go on, stumbling a bit over the words.

“I fell in love you see, at work, all those years ago, when I entered the MECUSA. I worked closely with a French Auror, Roger… You’ve actually met him…”

Harry’s eyes widened. Roger was the French Auror who had tried to protect Ginny and him when they were attacked in Paris last April. The wizard had been severely hurt by an Avada Kedavra early on in the fight. Harry nodded at Mrs Steadfast that he understood who it was.

“Roger and I were both married. I promptly had a divorce despite my children being so young. He didn’t have children, but he never went through with the divorce. Our relationship lasted over fifteen years before it weaned off. I realized at long last that he would never leave his jealous, sickly wife… We’re still good friends, though.” She sniffed. “I don’t regret it. It’s life. My husband and I weren’t suited for each other anyway. What I don’t understand is why my children reproach me in retrospect…” She sighed.

“You’ve spoken to them?” asked Harry.

”I have. I saw them in August when I visited the US. It’s not desperate, they’re softening a bit, but they’re sort of still marking a certain distance. Or, maybe it’s me being sensitive. Maybe it’s just them growing up.”

“What did the letter say?” Harry asked kindly.

“They were supposed to visit London for Christmas, but now Emma wrote that they had decided to stay in the US. She’s got a new boyfriend and he can’t come with her because of his parents, so she decided to stay. If she stays, so will Daniel – they always keep together…”

Harry remained in the office a while, trying to console Mrs Steadfast. It was hard being on two different continents, he gathered. Her children not coming to visit for Christmas still might not spring from resentment, but from practical difficulties, he argued.

“Why is it me who has to make the sacrifice? I’m the one ending up alone,” she whispered bitterly before pulling herself together. “Listen to me - all self-pity!” she said in a disgusted tone and straightened her back. “At least I have the Office! And I still have my grandmother!” Her features softened with tenderness.

“See – that’s good!” Harry said gravely.

He left Mrs Steadfast looking a bit comforted, yet still dispirited.

In the corridor, walking towards the elevator, he met Snape on his way to the Auror Headquarters.

”Hello, Professor. Are you going to see Mrs Steady?” Harry asked.

Snape nodded.

”I only just left her. Please go easy on her. She’s kind of vulnerable right now, so just wait for a while, okay? And be nice to her,” said Harry, all of a sudden feeling very protective of Mrs Steadfast. Snape raised his eyebrows and stared at him.

“What?” he said.

“I mean… Don’t go inside and start snapping at her in that impatient way of yours. She’s a human being you know.”

“Why, are you implying that I’m insensitive as a rule?” Snape knitted his eyebrows, but looked more worried than angry.

“Not exactly, Sir… But I just found her crying in her office,” Harry spelled out. “She’s unhappy about her children.”

“Unhappy? Maybe I should come back another time then,” Snape muttered uncertainly and hesitated to turn around. Harry stared at him, surprised to see his lack of confidence.

“No, sorry, Professor, I didn’t mean it like that. She’ll be glad to see you, I think.”

Snape frowned, confused.

“All I meant was that you could check that impatient side of yours that at times can be a bit wounding,” said Harry.

Snape looked even more puzzled.

“Sorry, Professor, listen, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Look, I only wanted to warn you, so that you won’t barge in and hurt her feelings unintentionally when she’s already hurting. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to do that, right?” Harry tried to explain.

“You think I should go to her then?” asked Snape, glancing down the corridor at the entrance of the Auror Headquarter. Harry looked at him incredulous. Was Snape asking him advice?

“Yes, go and see her and be nice to her,” he said flatly. Snape made a grimace and set off slowly.

“Be nice…” he muttered to himself sarcastically.

“By the way, Professor, I meant to ask you - I’m coming to Hogwarts on Friday. Can I see you in the afternoon about the Ancient magic paper I’m writing, please? I’m a bit stuck,” Harry launched after him. Snape turned around and frowned at him again.

“Sure,” he replied shortly.

***

Harry, Ron and Hermione had been invited to Hogwarts by Professor McGonagall in order to teach the third-years and the sixth-years contemporary history. No one was better suited than them to tell the tale of Voldemort and of the two wizard wars on the British Isles, she argued. Since Professor McGonagall did not expect to gain a hearing with Professor Binns, the teacher of Magic History at Hogwarts, because he was a ghost who taught practically by autopilot, and only subjects that happened at least a hundred and fifty years ago, she called the lesson ‘The Deputy Headmaster’s Special Class’ and it took place in the Transfiguration classroom.

Naturally, it had nothing to do with transfiguration. The three friends were slightly flattered by the task, and took it very seriously. They also felt it was a treat to be able to return to Hogwarts, if only for a morning. They had prepared themselves with great care, Hermione being the mastermind behind their planning. Harry suspected that she was slightly ambiguous about her choice of career and that she might have liked to become a teacher herself.

Ron had taken on the task of researching the wizard society during the first war and the upraise of Voldemort. His parents had been part of the resistance movement at that time, and he had heard them speak of it during his childhood. With a little help from Mr Weasley, Ron put together a lively description of the events and of the political implications at the Ministry of Magic at the time. Hermione explained the ideological issues involved in the war, with a small but enlightening side track upon the relationship between Muggles and Magical people throughout the ages.

Finally, Harry spoke about Voldemort himself. He had chosen to reveal to the pupils all the details of Tom Riddle’s family background and upbringing that he had learnt from Dumbledore. It was a meagre but important biography, put together with great difficulty by the late headmaster, because he had understood that it was crucial for Harry to understand his opponent. Harry thought that transmitting this knowledge now to a larger public was susceptible to tarnish the hyped myth about Lord Voldemort which had only served to inspire so much fear over the years and which still prevailed in many ways. Hopefully the pupils would bring the facts learnt in this lesson home to their parents and a more nuanced picture of Voldemort would be more generally known.

The three friends really put their hearts into their performance, and were rewarded by rapt attention and in the end enthusiastic applause from the pupils. Flushed and happy, they lingered on for a while in the Great Hall after having been invited to lunch, speaking to old friends who were now last year students. When Ron and Hermione at long last prepared to return to Grimmauld Place, Harry told them that he would mount to Snape’s office for advice on some work of theirs.

***

Harry found the headmaster ready to wind down after the week’s almost completion. When Harry apologised for burdening the hard working wizard with yet another task, Snape looked puzzled, then dismissed the apology with a sarcastic mutter that doing some real research work was a relief compared to a headmaster’s normally tedious tasks. He was ready to help, and would Harry please dampen his oversized conscience a bit?

They worked in harmony for quite some time, until they realised that they had missed dinner in the Great Hall. Snape ordered some sandwiches to be brought to the office from the kitchen, and they ate, mostly in comfortable silence.

Harry was beginning to get tired when he decided to take a pause from work and have a closer look at the shelf where Snape kept Dumbledore’s old books. There was a shortage of written sources in Ancient Magic. Harry thought that he must have been through all the important tomes concerning the subject by now, but he wanted to check if there was anything else remotely connected to the issue of magically detecting human emotions and intent that they were studying. He sat on the floor, picking tomes from the shelf and leafing through them, admiring a beautiful print, or reading a few lines here and there. When putting a large tome back in place, Harry spotted a thin leaflet that seemed to have been wedged behind the other books at the back of the shelf. He gently coaxed the tiny book out. ‘The use of Sacrifice in Ancient Magic’, the title said.

Harry let out a small exclamation and Snape lifted his head. Harry rose quickly from the floor with the leaflet in his hand and when doing so, a stationary dropped out of the book and sailed away on the floor. Harry bent down to pick it up, straightened his back and stared at the piece of parchment. It was perfectly flattened and a bit brittle at the edges as if it had been left untouched, pressed between the pages of the book for a long time. The first thing that struck Harry was the date written at the upper right corner. He gasped.

Snape lifted his head again, frowned and rose slowly. Harry’s eager eyes scanned the words scattered over what seemed to be a draft of a letter. It did not really make sense to him, but it gave him a hunch of who the writer must have been and he started to breathe quicker. The writing was full of crossing-outs, scribbles and further down the page small drawings. The writer must have had a hard time finding her words, thought Harry.

“Found something interesting?” Snape asked noncommittally.

Harry answered by stretching the letter out to him mutely. In retrospect, he wondered if he should not have kept it to himself, or at least said something, giving Snape a warning before handing it over. Maybe then, it would not have triggered such a strong reaction and the outcome would have been less disastrous than it now proved to be. But Harry, too, was overwhelmed. It was impressive to read the words of a person, written the very day before that person died, and to have the recipient of that letter in front of you at the same time, realizing that the draft had probably never been realized into a letter and that the communication that had been intended long ago took place now, nearly twenty years later.

Snape must have received a shock the moment he glanced at the letter because he inhaled sharply. Where Harry was not a hundred percent sure of the handwriting, Snape must have recognised it instantly. The hand now holding the letter started to shake, and the tall wizard staggered a step backwards. Like so many times before, Harry watched Snape incline his head to let the long black hair conceal his face, but this time, it did not suffice to hide Snape’s distress. A plaintive sound was let out over his lips and Snape took a new sharp intake of breath as he let himself fall down in one of his armchairs. Harry unfroze, and eager to communicate and lessen the shock of his mentor, he started to ramble.

“It’s her, isn’t it? It’s from my mother… And look at the date – it’s dated the very day before she… Before Voldemort killed them…” Harry could not help his voice from sounding slightly high-pitched.

Snape had bent over, elbows on his knees, with the letter outstretched in front of him in both hands. When Harry mentioned the date, he glanced up at the piece of pergament as if verifying, and let out another stifled moan. Not only the hands, but both arms were trembling now. Headless of the alarming signals Harry went on.

“I recognise that symbol drawn at the bottom from somewhere. I’ve seen it before, I think. It’s beautiful, like initials intertwined or something, but I can’t make the letters out. Was that a secret symbol for you two? Do you realise - she wrote a letter to you the evening before she…”

The tissue of Snape’s robe was stretched over his back, and he was breathing quickly and deeply. A low growl was let out.

“I can’t… Harry, I can’t…”

“It’s only a draft, only a few sentences, but I think it means that she forgave you… I really think it does… Look!” It struck Harry now that Snape must not even have read the words on the paper, overwhelmed by the mere evidence that it came from Lily, and he wanted to comfort the ailing man before him. His words had the opposite effect, though.

“I can’t!” Snape almost wailed with increased agitation. ”It doesn’t work… I can’t… You must leave, Harry - I’m losing it! I’m losing control…” Snape hyperventilated and Harry stared puzzled at his former teacher. What did not work? Then it hit him – Snape was trying to impose Occlumency on himself. He was trying to stifle his reaction with Occlumency and it didn’t work. By Merlin! Of course it didn’t! Harry crouched by Snape’s side.

”It’s okay… It’s okay, you know, Sir. It’s a bit of a shock, I realize, but…”

“Get out! Leave me alone” Snape suddenly bellowed, turning away from Harry. He let the letter drop on the small table in front of him and put both hands over his face, starting to rock back and forth. Harry’s heart was beating fast. He was starting to grow afraid of Snape’s reaction. What had he done? What kind of repressed emotions had he unleashed by inadvertence? Snape’s pain seemed physical in a frightening way, and the reaction clearly threatened to slip out of control completely. Should he do a Relieving incantation on Snape? Harry wondered bewildered. It was probably not a good idea since he too was affected by that letter. It was his mother’s handwriting, sentences written only hours before she died…

”Please, Professor, let me help…” Harry pleaded, putting a tentative hand on Snape’s back.

The next moment Harry found himself propelled backwards, Snape’s contorted, mad face towering over him. When he met the hurt surprise and the pity in Harry’s eyes, Snape’s face crumpled once more, however, and he sunk down on his knees beside Harry. With a grimace of utmost pain, he put his left hand over Harry’s green eyes to shield himself from their gaze.

“Go… please… go…” he whispered hoarsely.

Harry scrambled to his feet with a fast beating heart and although his whole body resisted the movement toward the door and told him to stay and help the debilitated man, his reason told him he could do nothing. No comfort would be accepted. This was Snape’s private grief, huge and inconsolable.  Harry’s own presence only made it worse. He was a living reminder to Snape of what the man had lost.

Harry let the door close after him as he rushed down the spiral stairs, thoughts swirling through his head. Snape had not even read the letter properly. Harry had wanted to speak to him about it, analyse what it meant. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind of Snape’s strong feelings for Lily, but his mother’s feelings for her childhood friend were a mystery to him. He had so few facts to go on, and there was the fairy tale of James and Lily standing in the way. Harry was beginning to realise that the official love story of his parents’ did not account for the whole truth. His research in France last summer when he met some of his father’s relatives had taught him differently. But what had the letter actually said? There had only been a few sentences, really. So much had been crossed out. Lily must have been frustrated.

My dearest Severus, I hope that you will forgive me…

Dear Sev, I’m so sorry…

Dear Sev, I’ve been so angry…

Why did she think that Snape needed to forgive her? It was the other way around, wasn’t it? Harry was deep in thought as he rushed down the corridor from Snape’s office, heart still pounding. He almost ran into Professor McGonagall and muttered an excuse, surprising his former teacher by turning his head and hasting away. Then a thought hit him and he revolved to ask her:

“Are you on your way to Professor Snape?”

She nodded, frowning since she did not quite recognize the relaxed and balanced young man who had taught her class earlier that day.

“Er… You had better wait… He doesn’t want to… He didn’t feel well… Maybe you could… please… check on him in an hour? In a couple of hours, let’s say,” Harry stuttered. “Maybe only send him an owl and check that he’s okay later this evening? We… He didn’t want me to stay… He wanted to be left on his own…”

McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Harry’s incoherent rambling and advanced slowly towards him.

“Of course, I’ll check on Severus. But how are you, Harry? You seem upset…”

Harry escaped her concern with a few muffled words, turned and fled out of the castle. When he came home to Grimmauld Place, after having performed one of the shakiest Apparitions since he passed his licence, he heard soft voices and giggles from the living room. Ron and Hermione probably had a cuddle in the sofa in front of the fireplace. Harry hurried upstairs in the hope of finding Ginny. But their room was empty and a note on the mirror told him that Ginny had gone out and that she would be late, but that he could join her at the Xenophoria club if he wanted to. Harry stared at his own image in the mirror. He inclined his head to the side, swallowed, and tentatively lifted his left hand to prevent his own eyes from staring back at him.

The End.
End Notes:
Ok, so this chapter marks the end of the first part (of three) of this story. As you can imagine the story will turn a bit darker from now on. Please, don’t hesitate to review.


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