Whatever It Takes by SanctuaryAngel
Summary: Taking place directly after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry is trying to deal with his trauma from the course of the events of the war and struggles to confront it, along with trying to manage his grief. Snape survived but disappeared in shame and remorse after the battle. Harry finds him, and they both discover that they have more in common now more than ever - Both are struggling with their sense of self and purpose. But stray Death Eaters from the battle are re-grouping for a final stand to take out the great Harry Potter, and their traitor, and Harry and Snape must put aside their differences to end the fight once and for all, whilst dealing with Snapes' illness along the way. Explores darker themes of grief, self-blame, PTSD, depression, and suicidal ideation.
Categories: Misc > No category on the site fits Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Arthur, Draco, Fred George, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, McGonagall, Molly, Narcissa, Neville, Ron
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Depressed, Snape is Desperate, Snape is Stern
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, General, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy
Media Type: None
Tags: Abuse Recovery, Depression Recovery, Injured!Snape
Takes Place: 8 - Post Hogwarts (young adult Harry)
Warnings: Character Death, Eating Disorder, Panic attack, Self-harm, Suicide Themes, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 65 Completed: Yes Word count: 443363 Read: 26352 Published: 01 Feb 2023 Updated: 02 Sep 2023
CH 21: Memento Vivere by SanctuaryAngel
Author's Notes:
Excuse the upcoming dark chapter. Heavy warning of depression and anxiety ahead.
Harry was afraid.

There wasn't much Harry would openly admit to being afraid of, but he was more so worried about what may happen. Seeing Severus Snape in that ill state, made Harry feel incredibly guilty and powerless. It took Harry a great effort to convince the man to finally trust him, and it seems as if just as they were getting along, they both got knocked back a few paces.

Snape had been extra bitter lately and he couldn't help but think that was the result of their last tense conversation. Just when Harry offered to reach out to him, the man completely knocked him back once he realised he was getting too close. Perhaps being snarky was his way of keeping his distance from him. Or any of his ex-students in his presence. It made sense on Snape's part, but it was frustrating enough for Harry to be dealing with that again. There had been times when Harry had sensed a genuine change within the man but would catch him off-guard as he instinctively fell back to his old spiteful demeanor once again. Perhaps he had been so used to doing that in the seven years he has known him, that this double-agent role he had become accustomed to, became a little too natural for him. And yet Snape was still compelled to help him, despite the simple fact that Voldemort is truly gone. He technically had no need to stay, and yet he did.

Snape was still struggling to find his purpose and drive to continue his own life, so he fell back into old habits just to keep himself afloat. Protecting Harry, being one of them.

Both were subsequently dealing with their own personal issues. Snape seemed to be concerned over Harry's wellbeing, even in his best effort to avoid personally showing it. Harry on the other hand was dealing with his own psychological issues inhibiting him from thinking straight, which elevated his levels of stress, causing insomnia and, now, panic attacks. Both were a mess at this point.

Harry often wondered what Snape does when he wasn't seeking refuge at Grimmauld Place. And yet still, despite Snape's efforts to push the Gryffindor away, it gave Harry an even solidified reason to help him. If he didn't try, who else would? No matter their past transgressions, Harry was determined to make things right, and at this point, they both desperately needed that reprieve. They had both suffered tremendously throughout this war, and Harry would be damned to make sure they didn't continue to suffer afterward.

Someone had to try.

Giving Snape time to rest after his unfortunate relapse, Harry wandered downstairs to find everyone else back in the dining room, sitting in silence, and waiting for him to join them. Slumping down on the chair, Harry lowered his head, feeling defeated.

"Is he…alright?" Hermione said quietly with worry, breaking the short silence among them.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. For now. I don't know what we are going to do once the potions run out."

"I was thinking about going back to the Hogwarts library and doing some research. Though I doubt even the restricted section will have anything on slowing or removing a curse of that caliber."

"I could go with Neville to the Forbidden Forest and see if we can find some more ingredients?" Luna suggested, "We'll have better luck trying to gather our own for now."

"But Snape and McGonagall told us to stay put, " Neville questioned.

Ginny stifled a laugh, "Since when do we ever do what we are told? Besides, Snape's not getting better in there."

"Hermione, any ideas on what we should do?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed, "Not anything else beyond what we've already tried. We know those new antidotes will at least prolong his life, but to what extent, we really don't know. Or at least they seem to be keeping his symptoms at bay. We can provide supplementary potions to counter some of those, but again, we have the issue of a lack of supplies to keep up with that even remotely. We can't take him to St. Mungo's because one, he refuses to allow that. And two, he will be snatched up by Aurors quicker than you can say Slytherin, " Hermione paused in thought, until she continued with a look of uncertainty, "Only other thing I can suggest, Harry, is that we'll need to know more about the curse that Dumbledore received from the Gaunt ring. From what you told us about that memory, Snape is the only one to better understand how to prevent it from causing more damage. He is, essentially, the best person to ask."

Harry sighed as he nodded, "Once I go back in there, I'll ask him. " Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly dreading that task, "He's just not listening. It's been a struggle to get him to comply with anything so far. I don't even feel comfortable leaving him in there for too long by himself."

"I'm sure he'll manage, " Ron shrugged, "He's an adult."

"Ron, he is practically dying!" Harry snapped, "You saw the state he was in. After all he did for us, you're just going to shrug it off?"

"I'm not just shrugging it off, Harry. How can you help someone who doesn't want to be helped?"

"He spent years undercover, convincing everyone that he was no better than the Death Eaters seeking to murder us. He changed sides before my parents died that night, begging Dumbledore to keep them – us – safe…once he realised he messed up. Since then he's been working for the cause to bring Voldemort down. He is forever burdened by that guilt, Ron. In the end, he did the right thing. We can at the very least, do the same for him. He gave up everything and gained nothing, " Harry was saddened, composing himself with a deep breath, "Look, I don't expect you all to fully understand…You didn't see what I saw."

"Harry, we understand. We've seen how involved you are in making sure he is safe, " Hermione reassured, "It's been affecting you a lot. We can tell. I know it's hard to try and well save someone – Snape, of all people in the world. We're going to try our best to…give him a second chance."

Harry sighed, sitting back in his chair, "I just…I just feel like I owe it to him. If I didn't seek him out in the Shrieking Shack, he would have let himself die. Alone. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone, especially not after what he did."

"I suppose if he didn't give you those memories at the right moment, he would have died without anyone knowing the truth, " Ginny interjected.

Harry nodded, grimly, "…Exactly. And I may not even have known how to finally beat Voldemort. We could have lost a lot more people that night."

"The more I think about it..., " Hermione trailed off, looking saddened, "I can't imagine what it must have felt like to have to…end Dumbledore's life. The only person who ever truly trusted him. That is absolutely horrid."

Harry shifted in his seat, looking away, feeling the familiar ever-rising guilt within his core, "And I was prepared to kill him. If that's what that guilt feels like, then I can't begin to imagine how much guilt he is going through. If I can offer Voldemort remorse before this death, then why shouldn't I extend the decency of a second chance to Snape?"

"Because you have a great sense of empathy, Harry, " Luna chimed in, "You've seen both sides to Professor Snape, and despite all the bad things he's done, ultimately, it's his final act of good that eventually turned his life around. You must ask yourself, why you haven't given up on him?"

Harry looked over at Luna, taken aback by the blunt question. Admittedly, he had been asking himself that same question ever since he found out he survived. He knew why he couldn't give up, but it was more of a personal affair deep-rooted into their history that made the situation far more complex than he ever cared to admit, "Because if Snape had the capacity to care for someone after they died, even despite their falling out, he was more than willing to sacrifice his own life for a cause she believed in. Despite the horrible things he has done - and had to do - He has more than earned my respect. No one could have done what he did. I just hope that one day, he'll accept that from me."

Luna smiled, "I'm quite sure he appreciates it, Harry. Even if he doesn't want to admit that. As you said, he could have left completely. But instead, he chose to stay. I don't think that needs explaining, do you?"

"We'll keep trying, Harry. There has got to be a solution out there for him, " Hermione reassured.

"I know you all have other things to worry about..., " Harry felt anxious.

"…We won't let you do this by yourself if that's what you are referring to, " Ginny shared a small smile with Harry.

"…Thank you, " Harry's voice broke, and he swallowed down rising bile within the pit of his stomach.

Feeling a rising headache building within his temples, he rose up from the table gingerly and was overwhelmed with stress as his chest grew heavy. His heart, was undeniably, heavy. Heavy with grief. Heavy with sadness. Today was just a little too much to bear with.

He should be relieved that Voldemort is gone, but really, it left Harry with a gaping hole in his heart. Like a void that struggled to be filled. There was just so much unfinished business now, despite the war being over. Somewhat. They were still treading on dangerous ground and the targets on their backs still shone like beacons. He felt afraid. Still afraid. Like that fear never truly left him. Yet again, the lives of his friends – his chosen family – are still at stake. The fear of losing anyone else tore his heart to shreds.

Plagued by sudden exhaustion, he turned to his friends, "I'm just going to go rest upstairs. Just, let me know if anything new happens, yeah?"

Concerned, Ginny leaned forward, "Do you need some company?"

Harry shook his head, "I…just need to be alone for a bit." Waiting for no further reply, he made his way up four flights of stairs to his room on the fourth floor. He considered checking up on Snape on the second floor but decided to give the man more time to rest. That's a task he'll tackle later. He required a little more brainpower for that kind of conversation.

Harry was not himself. He could not bear to lose anyone else again, because of him. He felt selfish. The need for his friends to remain by his side was so great, and yet with that same fear, he tried to push them away in order to protect them. He was a fool to think he could do this himself.

Is this truly what Snape was trying to do? Push Harry away in order to protect him?

Knowing the man did have a twisted moral compass, he didn't always agree with his methods. Then again, he approached his impromptu Occlumency lesson differently recently, rather than trying to assault his mind like he tried to do in his fifth year. There was always a method to his madness, but Harry didn't always understand or grasp the man's reasonings anyway. One thing Harry was certain of, is that the man was not simple by any means.

Nothing would ever be the same anymore. Everything has changed. Even Harry. Even Snape. Even his friends. The Wizarding World was currently shattered, with the Ministry in a state of drastic reform by Kingsley. Auror numbers were horrifically low, leaving other older wizards and people barely of age like Harry to take up arms once again. Harry was still very much a target. Snape is severely ill, with a high chance of facing an Azkaban sentence if he was to be caught by an Auror. The Order was doing its best to function. The DA was broken, with over half either dead or no longer refusing to participate. Death Eaters were still snatching or killing wizard-kind and Muggleborn families in a last-ditch effort to instill terror within the magical community.

Sirius was no longer here to give Harry comforting words of wisdom. Dumbledore was no longer here to empower Harry with his usual mood-boosting monologue. Remus was no longer here to offer words of comfort and genuine compassion. Fred was no longer here to keep him in good spirits. Dobby was no longer here for companionship. Hedwig was no longer here, wanting affection. No 'constant vigilance' pep talk from Mad-Eye Moody.

As Harry entered his room, a single tear rolled down his face, as he gently shut the door behind him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling completely hollow, staring off into space and fixating his gaze on one of the dust-covered paintings on the wall. What a pitiful excuse for the Chosen One. Hiding away in his room because the pain was too great to bear. There weren't many tears left to shed, and now he just felt numb. His head pounding with pressure, but he was too scared to close his eyes again for fear of reliving the same nightmare all over again. All he could hear was the echo of the screams from his mother in the back of his mind, accompanied by the flash of green he's seen far too often in his life already.

He just wanted it all to end. Somehow.

Harry drew in a shuddering deep breath, as he once again, buried his head in his hands. He was anxious for a reprieve that may never come. What would his parents think of him now? Would they still be proud? Would they understand why he feels so detached from people? Would they forgive him for his choices? He would give anything to talk to them again. He knew he had the Resurrection Stone, but Snape was right – It was a terrible idea, and that kind of power should not be wielded so casually. It felt like the Mirror of Erised all over again. It would be so easy to consume oneself with that shred of happiness, but he could see how easily addictive that may be.

His stomach grumbled. What was the last thing he ate? He wasn't entirely sure. It was rare for him to eat an entire meal, but now it seems he was just picking at food out of habit, barely consuming anything at all. Well, that could be one cause of the headache. But he just had no desire to eat, nor did he have a measure of an appetite these days.

What has his life now become? The darkest wizard of all time was finally defeated by his hand, and now he was reduced to a pitiful, psychological wreck. A hurt, vulnerable, and anxious version of himself that he always feared to face. Now he understood why Severus Snape had no desire to live out the rest of his life. It made even more sense. Everything had eventually crumbled, leaving nothing left but a hollow pit within his very soul, trying to come to terms with all that has happened. It felt like some twisted fever dream.

Yet again, Harry still felt selfish. He tried desperately to convince himself that he was not that man two floors down, dealing with his own trauma, grief, and sense of purpose. And yet still, he understood how it felt to push people away when they were trying desperately to help. He only hoped his friends wouldn't give up on him. He felt ashamed to even feel this way, but he just didn't know how to deal with what he was facing.

He lay back down on his bed, staring up at the faded ceiling like he has been doing since the first night they reclaimed Grimmauld Place. The afternoon light piercing from the window faded to the dull dusk of the sunlight. Eventually, the night settled in, and he was once again lost in his own thoughts.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to re-imagine his painted sanctuary once again, in his desperate bid to remove the horrible influx of thoughts swirling within his mind. Identical to the one he created for himself that morning, he tried to focus on the thought long enough to become immersed once again. Oh, how he wished to be back on his Firebolt again. He replayed the same repeated image in his mind until he felt content enough with such a wish. This time he imagined flying side-by-side with Buckbeak. Well, it wasn't too far-fetched of a thought. Feeling a little more measure of peace within himself - albeit very lightly – he eventually drifted off to sleep.

Once he opened his eyes, he completely lost track of time when he looked out the window to find the crescent moon high overhead through a partially-cloudy sky.

The house was all too quiet now, but at one point, he could have sworn he heard faint sobbing from the floor below. The walls of Grimmauld were far too thin, and it didn't take much to overhear anything. He was too anxious to check it out, but it was the sound of a woman. Was it Ginny? Or Hermione? Both women were dealing with their own issues, and yet Harry felt even more guilty for struggling solely with his own. Unsure of how much time had passed now, Harry managed to force himself up and out of bed and wander slowly downstairs.

Passing the third floor, he found Ron leaning up against the wall, watching Harry descend the staircase. Still hearing the sobbing from one of the smaller bedrooms, he looked at Ron with deep concern, as he slowly approached his friend.

"…What's going on?"

Ron looked worried, "It's Hermione. She was just feeling sort of…overwhelmed. With everything. I've been in there with her, but Ginny's there now. " He shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do, "She's worried about her parents. They are fine, but everything is sort of…catching up with her, I think."

Harry drew in a deep breath, definitely feeling the heaviness of the situation and the toll it has taken on all of them, "…We're a mess, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are," Ron shrugged, avoiding Harry's gaze, "It'll hit us all eventually, if not already. I don't know what to do for her. I feel bloody useless."

"You've been with her, and I'm sure she appreciates that more than you know."

Ron nodded, "Yeah, I suppose. Still feels terrible, though."

"It'll be okay. We'll all be okay, somehow, " Harry tried to reassure his best friend, hoping it was enough to convince even himself.

"I'll just be here in the meantime. Go check on Snape. He hasn't come out of there for a few hours."

"Hours? You didn't check?"

Ron shook his head with a look of mild distaste, "Me? You must be joking. One knock from me, and he'll turn me into a footstool. So far, you seem to be the one less on his nerves right now. Ironic, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is. You've got this, Ron – Stay here with Hermione. I'll-I'll just be…downstairs, " Grasping the railings with a slightly trembling hand, he continued down the next flight of stairs, approaching Snape's room with much caution. Knowing Hermione's situation was being handled by Ginny, he decided to pay the Potions Master a visit, and make sure he was still at least marginally okay. Despite the feeling of invading the man's space once again, he needed answers. Grasping at straws in the dark wasn't getting anywhere and he was sure to lose it next time Snape decides to send him away again for his 'greater good'.

Harry knocked gently on the door several times, hearing a shuffle from within. Good, he's awake.

"It's err...Harry."

There was a pause before the familiar baritone voice pierced the silence, "…Enter."

Pushing the door open carefully, he entered the dark room, only illuminated by a single candle at his bedside. He found the man sitting up on the edge of the bed, looking mildly better than he last found him, and watching as Harry walked in through the door, closing it carefully behind him. It was hard to tell within the candlelight, but he appeared somewhat better than his faint, sickly appearance earlier in the day at the dining room table. Snape's usually stern face appeared relaxed – He possibly managed some sleep after all, and better than Harry's disastrous efforts earlier last night.

With an outstretched arm, Snape motioned for Harry to sit in the horrifically unappealing emerald velvet armchair stationed in the corner of the room. "Sit, Potter." Harry couldn't tell if his blank tone indicated that he was irritated by his appearance yet again, or perhaps he simply expected the Gryffindor to eventually show up.

Without another word, Harry hesitantly took a seat as instructed, being careful to avoid the man's direct gaze, and feeling nothing more than dread rising in the pit of his stomach. The last thing he needed was to give Snape an opportunity to peer into his mind.

Well, good luck deciphering that catastrophic mess.

Snape had been eyeing Harry carefully ever since he entered the room. Harry hated it when he did that because it made him feel like he was under constant unnecessary scrutiny. Once Harry had sat down, Snape did his best not to glare at him directly, as if he sensed a mode of sensitiveness with the situation at hand.

Shifting his posture upright, the man lifted his chin, allowing the curtains of his black hair to fall back away effortlessly, so his view of the Gryffindor could not be skewed. With a careful pause, Snape began to speak once more, "Did the imagery help?"

Confused, Harry shook his head, not understanding what the man meant, "Imagery?"

"Occlumency, Potter," Snape remained calm and meticulous with his responses, which Harry observed instantly.

"Oh, that. Yeah… " Harry's cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment, "It did. It…helped."

Snape remained unmoving, still observing Harry before him, "Good." His expression then relaxed; in fact, the man looked mildly amused, "…Finally."

That last word caused Harry to smirk, realising the ridiculousness of the ill-fated lessons in fifth year, and since Voldemort's downfall, now it seemed to work, "Yeah, it worked eventually. Only took two years."

Snape's amused face quickly faltered, as he became more serious, "Occlumency is more than just a mental shield, Potter. By painting a new vision within your mind, you are able to dissipate the remnants of a nightmare – or fear - slowly and temporarily and regain control. It is a considerably basic form of the art. It's not a permanent remedy as you are aware, but it can act more like a practical form of…meditation if you will. "

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Surely, it can't be that straightforward? Why couldn't you explain it like that, last time?"

"Because you are thick-headed. Besides, increased stress levels and anxiety before you sleep, coupled with certain traumatic events, can induce a nightmare, thus can cause distress upon waking. By thinking of more pleasant thoughts before rest, it can decrease the likelihood of that happening. At least, dull down the negative effects. "

"But how can that be Occlumency?"

"I said it was a basic form of Occlumency. There are several methods to its success. It is the first step to clearing the mind by replacing it with a vision of your own. A…Sanctuary. That self-made imagery essentially provides you with protection from an oncoming attack of Legilimency, or in your current case, trauma-induced nightmares. During your lucid state, your strongest emotions are relaxed. Once your mind is invaded, you must be able to visualise something of your own making in order to protect your own memories. An invader would not know the difference between the two."

"Okay, " Harry furrowed his brow in thought, "So, is that what you did with Vol-him? Visualised your own sanctuary?"

Snape winced at Harry's attempts to hold himself back from saying his name, sneering slightly before he finally answered, "To a degree. I was able to block his attacks by planting false memories among my own. A faux layer. It was the only way to hide my intentions. My true loyalty."

"So, can it be used against the Imperius Curse?"

"It can. However, only those highly skilled in the art will be able to resist it, but even so…That requires a far greater mental aptitude and perseverance for it to be somewhat effective. It is not always guaranteed to work, even with the required method of control."

"What about the Cruciatus curse?"

"You ask far too many questions, Potter," Snape frowned, "Occlumency can dull the pain, but in this instance, you must also use common sense. Masking the pain will indicate to the caster that it is ineffective; thus, they will continue to use it for a longer duration of time. As you are aware, the long-term effects of that are irreversible. Sometimes the wisest decision is to…succumb to it. Regrettably. Make it quick." Snape shrugged a little too casually for Harry's liking.

Thinking back to Neville and the fate of his parents, made Harry feel sick to his stomach. "Did he…Ever use those curses on you? …Often?"

The man narrowed his eyes briefly, "Silly question. You already know the answer to that. Crucio was his favorite," Snape spoke the last few words with such venomous disdain. There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between them, on the thought of the Unforgivable Curses that have ruled both of their lives, and it was obvious that neither of them wanted to continue with that train of thought.

Snape paused as his mind wandered, suddenly amused with something else, "Your mother and I used to have, what we called magical quandary discussions. In our early years, we often questioned much during our education and procured questions like these designed to test our intellect. We had rather fascinating debates, pitting two controversial subjects together in our bid to further understand it. Like you, she was always curious."

Harry's mood suddenly perked up on the subject of his mother, "I can definitely imagine that. Was she -" He stopped himself, unsure how to pursue further questioning in regard to his mother. It was a sensitive subject for the both of them, but if anyone could tell him more about her, it was Snape. After all, he knew her for the longest time. But Harry was well aware of their parting of ways, and he was walking a fine line of trust already with Snape. But he just wanted to know more about her. Whatever he could. After all, they were best friends before things took a nosedive for the worst. There was no way he was going to approach his Aunt Petunia about it.

"- She had a remarkable sense of humor. You adopted her cheek; I have no doubt about that. Sarcastic even at the most serious of times. However, she laughed often. I do recall several incidences that had her scolded in class for doing so. I believed she earned herself her first - and last - detention in Transfiguration for uncontrollable giggles."

Harry couldn't help but smile, suddenly feeling the warmth of her memory within his chest, "From the little I've seen in photographs, and the mirror, and the stone…her smile is what I always see."

And he was sure he saw a twitch of a smile on Snape, ever so lightly, but he could definitely see the sadness upon the man's expression, "She was always a positive spirit. Always willing to see only the best in people. Lily was the only person who truly saw me beyond the Dark Arts I delved in. She kept me grounded…Until her view became clear. "

Harry hung his head in shame, even though he knew he shouldn't blame himself, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked – "

"No. You have every right to ask about her. The least I can do is preserve her memory for you…Somehow, " Snape's voice lowered, almost to a whisper, "I can offer you that much. What happened after, was my biggest mistake and greatest regret. The fault lies only with me."

"And you spent every year after her death making up for it, " Harry looked back at Snape, this time allowing himself to glance at the man's sorrowful eyes, "You have to forgive yourself at some point."

"There really is no forgiveness for me, Potter," The man was far too casual about that.

"I forgive you – "

"-You shouldn't. I don't want that from you. You, of all people, shouldn't. Because of me, you became an orphan."

"But I've come to terms with that now. You saved me. Every year, you protected me, and I spent most of that time suspecting you as the one wanting me dead…" Harry clenched his jaw, "I spent years hating you. Truth is when I found out you were the one who overheard the prophecy, yes, I wanted you dead."

Snape's eyes suddenly turned cold. Blank, even, as his voice dropped to a horrifying calmness that sent Harry feeling very unnerved, "Then do it, Potter. End it. I won't stop you. It'll be merciful."

Harry was livid, "You are not pulling that card on me. No, I'm not going to do it! I'm showing you mercy, now, sir, " He paused in an attempt to compose himself, trying so desperately not to yell in the man's face. He didn't want to argue again," I don't hate you anymore. We had a truce, and you told me that was enough. Is it, though? I want to preserve my mother's memory too, and I want to do that by doing the right thing. You may have messed up in the past, but it was Peter who betrayed them. They would have been safe if it weren't for him. "

Snape closed his eyes briefly, feeling tense and doing his best to remain composed. Once he opened his eyes again, he lowered his head, still deeply pained, "Regardless, the guilt destroys me. And it will continue to do so, despite your attempts at your…blind reassurance."

"It's not blind reassurance. I'm being genuine. As Lily's son…I want to help. If my mother helped to keep you grounded, then allow me to do the same, " Harry leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, as he looked away from Snape for any willing sign of resolve. He heard a sigh from the man just as stubborn as he was, as they sat in a diffusing silence, hearing nothing else but the faint ticking of the small antique clock upon the mantle. Both were tired of the conflict. But Harry could see that his words were gradually getting through to him, even if this was taking longer than he anticipated. After a pause, Harry sighed, "Why did you give me those memories? The personal ones. I mean, I know many of them were private..."

Snape pursed his lips, "It was the last plate in your armor – the last drive – to bring the Dark Lord down. You needed the entire truth to do what needed to be done. Figuratively, I hadn't expected to survive beyond that."

There was another pause – they seemed to be doing that a lot lately – which Harry suspected now was their automatic way of biting back words that could potentially be devastating for both of them. Harry nodded in understanding. But he was sure it may be his attempt to diffuse the situation and redirect the conversation into something less stress-inducing, and they both knew that they were on a path that neither expected the other to travel on. It was a peculiar sort of fate. Here they were, once enemies, finally trusting the other enough with such sensitive information. Harry was so determined to understand Snape, and Snape although still bitter, cared enough to share things about Lily. If Dumbledore were here, he'd definitely be more than amused by this strange connection between two odd souls amidst an old feud.

"Speaking of those memories, I have to ask…" Harry drew in a deep breath, finally summoning the next bit of required courage for his next dreaded task, "How did you combat the curse? Dumbledores. The memory you gave me…"

Snape's expression turned somber once more, "It was never combated, Potter. It was simply halted temporarily. The curse is irreversible."

"That potion you used – "

"- Will not work."

"Why?"

"Because it's missing a key ingredient, " Snape explained, "Fawkes's tears. As you know, that bird is long gone."

"You didn't keep any?"

"Phoenix tears must be fresh. They dissolve after a short duration of time, rendering them completely useless."

"Surely, there has got to be something else we can do?"

"The curse is designed to be fatal. It was passed on from one vessel to another."

Wait did he just…?

Perking up once again, Harry's brain began to reignite on a potential solution, "So that means there will be a way to…send it back? Give it another vessel?"

"Tampering with a curse is highly dangerous, Potter. I daresay if that has even been attempted before. That requires Dark magic, those of which I forbid you to utilise at any cost. "

"We're not creating a new curse, sir. We just want to, well…shift it. That can't be Dark magic."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, "Stubborn Gryffindor. Do not go and do something foolish. I refuse to allow you to risk your life on my accord! I didn't spend every year keeping you safe, only for you to run off and do something reckless that could potentially have you killed. I will not allow that!"

"I'm going to look into it and we'll find a safe way, alright?" Harry pleaded, "I don't want to feel guilty for not trying hard enough."

Harry watched as Snape's eyes glossed over, but the man was consistent in remaining passive within his expression. He commended the man for not throwing him out this time by the scruff of his shirt or no exploding jars over his head. The cogs in Snape's mind were ticking; The Gryffindor could sense that by the way the man's breathing suddenly became shallow, and his eyes darted. If there was a way, Harry will find it, and he will make sure that he exhausts all of his options beyond his ability.

"Potter – " Snape's voice was deep, but he made every effort to convey Harry's name softly this time rather than in his usual commanding tone.

But Harry cut him off. "- You've been taking your antidote. That tells me more than I need to know. I'll leave you be." Harry rose up from the chair before exiting the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

The fact that Snape had managed to consume more of the antidote was satisfactory enough for the Gryffindor. That alone, told him that he intended to keep fighting, and with that small fact, Harry started to have hope once more.

If there was a way he could save this life, then he'll gladly do it.

Whatever it takes.
The End.


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