Harry was screaming, thrashing, clutching his head, and to his own horror, begging for the pain to stop. Please stop, please please, stop.

 “Give me something,” Harry screeched, his voice high and scared. “Anything, knock me out. Anything.”

 “We already have, Harry, we have. Concentrate on that emotion I told you,” Hermione said.

 Harry tried and failed. He clutched his head even harder sure that it was about to split apart.  He was sick again, his breathing was shallow and rapid, he couldn’t get enough air. Suddenly, a large, skinny hand was placed on his chest.

 “Breathe with me, Potter. Concentrate on breathing,” Snape said. 

 Harry tried again and it seemed to work a little. He imagined Sirius and the veil over and over again, but it wasn’t intense enough.

 “Potter, for fuck’s  sake, concentrate!” Snape snapped.

 Harry was whimpering now, it just didn’t work.

 “We destroyed the Horcruxes,” Hermione said. “You just need to concentrate and it will get better. Please try, Harry, please.”

 Harry clutched his hair, pulled it hard, vomited again, but could not focus on anything. Then he heard a familiar spell and there was a presence in his mind.

 Images were flashing by, moving like a badly made home movie in high speed. He saw his mother, giggling and obviously singing something silly, then lying on the floor, with wide open, green eyes, dead and unmoving. And a new feeling, also unfamiliar to Voldemort started to crush him, it was guilt: heavy and of such magnitude that it would surely kill him. But the pain subsided fast.

 He opened his eyes and saw Snape sitting on the floor, one leg stretched out, one inclined. His hair hung down, limply and wet.

  Hermione crouched down in front of him, trying to help him somehow but it seemed beyond that. The man was cursing himself “youfuckingcowardgoodfornothingstopcryingnow” and rubbing his eyes furiously over and over again. The litany wouldn’t stop “notnowyouweaklingcantfallapartnownotnow” and Harry and Hermione could do nothing but watch in horror.

 “Get away, kids,” Snape snarled, obviously having regained some form of control again. “This isn’t for your personal entertainment.”