Hollow footsteps sounded through the empty corridor, going slower as they drew nearer to the dungeons, until they fell silent. Now the only sound came from a deep sigh. Harry Potter was reluctant to enter the office of Snape. Last night, when he had gone to bed, he had felt good and in a way, relieved. For the first time in weeks, he had been able to go to sleep, without laying awake for hours, remembering his godfahter’s death. But it had not been long before nightmares had tore his rest apart. When he had awakenend, he had realised that it wasn’t as easy as Snape had said. What he had said was a lie. It was impossible to move on with your life. What was he thinking to convide Snape? The man shoulde have had a good laugh yesterday and especially now, when he showed up for his detention, actually believing that his professor wanted to talk to him. He who hated him and Sirius and who would always hate them. No way.

He turned around, facing away from the door to the dungeons. The footsteps started again, going faster and faster, away, until they came to an abrupt stop.

“Let me go!” Harry said cold, knowing exactly who the person was that now had a firm grip on his left arm and collar.

“I am afraid I can not do that, Mr.Potter, since I seem to remember that we have an appointment together.” The sarcasm was evident and Harry knew not to argue any further. He was soon dragged through the corridor, back to the dungeons. A few moments later, they entered and Snape released him.

“Let me go,” Harry tried again, but the coldness was replaced by desparation. Snape did not reply immediately, but Harry felt his hand on his shoulder, but unlike a grip. He was lead to a chair in front of his professor’s desk.

“Sit down, Mr. Potter, before anger takes over my disappointment in you.”

Harry sat down, uncomfortable, staring ahead instead of facing his professor, who was still standing behind his chair. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I was under the impression that you wanted to move on, rather than to swallow yourself in your own self pity for the rest of your life. I guess I was wrong.”

Harry cringed back when he heard the venom in Snape’s voice. He did not reply, because he knew that he could not deny it.

“Why, Mr. Potter?” Snape’s voice prenetrated Harry’s thoughts. Harry cosidered lying for just a second, saying he forgot something in the tower or that he had to use the toilet, but something made him decide against it. He did not know exactly what it was, but he thought that he could hear concern in Snape’s voice.

“I doubted, sir. I thought you didn’t mean what you said yesterday and I wasn’t sure if I meant what I said yesterday.”

“I see,” Disappointment still filled his voice, but the anger was replaced by understanding.

“You do?”

Snape sat down behind his desk and stared at the wall behind Harry. He seemed to remember his own pain of loss. Silently, he said: “I do.” He looked at Harry. “You are not sure if you want to move on, going on with your life, just like every one else. Afraid that you might forgot him, just like the others seemed to do after a few weeks. Scared, that all the memories you hold dear will disappear, just like they seemed to have done by everybody else, leaving you empty and alone. You would rather look at pictures of him the whole day, thinking of him and remembering him. Worrying that he would have been angry if he knew that your forgot how his voice sounded already.”

“I did,” Harry whispered hoaresly.

“Don’t worry,” Snape answered in what was without a doubt a comforting voice. “Everything will come back, but you have to give it some time. I am quite sure that every memory you recall of Sirius is a bad one?”

Harry nodded. “I see him alone, sad and dying.”

“Was he like that?”

“You know how he was!”

“I want you to tell me.”

Harry stared at his knees and sighed, waiting for Snape to say something else, but it stayed quiet. Eventually, Harry realised that he had to answer and began, though slowly and searching for words: “He was not alone and sad. At least not when he could help it. He didn’t like anything more than to be among his friends and to joke and laugh. He always tried to cheer me up when I felt miserbale. He was interested and listened to me when I needed someone to talk to. He offered me his advice when I needed it. He taught me, when I wanted to know things. He cared for me, when I did not feel well. He ...” Harry hesitated for a moment. It seemed odd to convide his professor all of this, but since it felt good and he had found someone who would listen to him, he continued: “He loved me.”

Snape nodded approvingly, satisfaction written on his face. “Very good, Mr. Potter. Can you tell me how you feel when you think about these things?”

“I don’t know, really.” Harry said uncertain. “I feel sadness of course, because all of that is gone now, but I also feel strangely happy. I don’t understand.”

“I think you do.”

Harry thought about it. Maybe he did know, but it seemed wrong. It was wrong to be happy if someone had died. “I was happy when all these things actually happened, but I shouldn’t feel happy now. Just sad, because all of that is gone now.”

“It isn’t.” Snape said silently, in a voice very unlike his normal one. He seemed far away when he continued: “The fact that you just recalled all those memories proves that. You can relive them again and again, if you just try hard enough.”

“But it is not the same!” Harry protested sad. “Sirius is gone! He will never be with me like he was!”

“Yes, he will, Mr. Potter.” Snape told him stern, and it voice was back to the usual again. “Just in a different way. Close your eyes!”

Harry did so, but felt uncomfortable and vulnerable.

“Now concentrate. Forget that you are here and that I am here. Imagine that you are alone with Sirius. Recall a memory in which he tells you something. Something happy. Recall his laugh and his hand on your shoulder. Can you feel it?”

Harry focused and pictured Sirius, telling about his time at Hogwarts, his voice and his laugh. His hand on his shoulder. Then he felt it. A warmth spreading through his body and a feeling of total happiness. He could not help a smile lighting up his face. “Yes, I can feel it.”

“That feeling, Potter, will never disappear. Nor do the ones we love.”

Harry nodded thoughtful. “I think you are right.”

Snape smirked. “I know so.”

It was silent for a long while. They were both staring in ahead of them, each with their own thoughts and feelings. Harry saw that Snape had closed his eyes and he closed his own. A long time passed, but it felt like minutes to him. When Snnape announced that it was time for him to return to the Gryffndor dormitory, he noticed that he felt reluctant to do so.

“Goodnight, Professor.”

“Goodnight, Mr.Potter, until our next meeting.”

Harry closed the door behind him and suddenly felt tears, burning in his eyes. When he whiped them away, he found it hard to tell whether they were from happiness or grief.