"He is your son, Severus, and I think it would be best if you were to look after him during the tournament," Dumbledore had said.

Ill-fated.

One word had never so perfectly described an athlete's entrance into any championship before or after the Tri-Wizard tournament. Harry James Potter-Snape had made it through each of the tasks through the skin of his teeth and now Severus Snape was left to wait for the results of the final task. The Maze.

Forty minutes after the three four students had entered the maze, two were out and only Harry and Cedric Diggory were still fighting for the title. Severus knew in his heart that Harry would win, he was fated... ill-fated to always win. Even at the expense of everyone else.

Then, it happened.

The Boy-Who-Lived and the corpse of a boy who used to live. Tears and screams filled the stadium in minutes after the confusion and shock wore off.

- - -

It was an hour later and Harry Potter sat silently in a corner of Snape's office. It was the furthest from the crowd, the noise and the questions. Severus had been tasked with the job of looking after the boy. A quick potion had saved Harry from enduring another round of shock, but Severus was still worried that the boy would remained scarred by what had happened that night.

"You haven't said," Severus spoke up finally, the first to break silence.

Harry looked up, dead eyes trying to focus on the teacher but giving up and staring over his left shoulder. "Said what?" Harry asked numbly.

"What happened," the man clarified. "Earlier. How... how Cedric died. You haven't said much."

"But enough," Harry let his gaze drop back to the stone floor. "Why does it matter?"

"I won't know if it will until I hear it all," Severus pressed.

The Death Eater knew what kind of guilt and horror must be eating away at the boy. The cut on his arm, the shape of the Dark Mark, and the fresh cuts and bruises had their own stories to tell. Snape folded his hands together and crossed his knees. He sat, watching the boy.

"You can tell me now or tell the Aurors later," he bluffed, "either way, the story has to be told."

Harry huffed without irritation and in pure exhaustion, then nodded his head. "Alright."

Severus perked up. He had not expected it to be so easy to get the boy talking. "Alright."

Harry took a deep breath and began. He told about the maze and about sharing the 'win' with Cedric, except the Cup was a Portkey. Harry's voice wavered with emotion when he haltingly told of Pettigrew and Voldemort. The Killing Curse and the ghosts of his dead parents. Severus listened to it all, not interrupting or asking questions.

It was Harry's story to tell and the Professor let the boy talk until there were no more words to express the terrifying ordeal. It was beginning to grow light outside, hints of gray and pink around the windows, when Harry finally stopped.

The boy looked up, then, his green gaze locking with Snape's obsidian one. "Thank you, sir," his voice was hoarse from hours of talking, but he was at peace.

Severus nodded in acknowledgment. He had done Lily proud.