Harry’s scar was throbbing, he just could not think straight and somehow, he didn’t want to either.

 “I will not do anything to help before I know what the heck is going on here.”

  Hermione shot Snape a helpless glance, but the man shook his head.

 “I promised, Harry. Please, just believe me? Please?” Harry stood up, slowly and carefully without hurting his head any further.

 “You killed my parents, Snape.” He was shouting, but he didn’t care. Snape looked old and worn out, he lowered his wand and stepped back.

 “He killed Nagini, too, Harry,” Hermione tried to change the topic, but Harry could see that he’d somehow touched a sore spot. He advanced on the man and pushed him against the wall behind him. “Were you glad they were dead? Do you think my father deserved to die after what he did to you? What about my mother? She just tried to defend you and you called her a mudbl-”

 “Shut UP, Potter!” Snape roared, his face oddly contorted as if someone had just stabbed him. He hadn’t expected another physical attack, not now. Harry’s fist knocked the wind out of the older wizard, and so did his words: “I will never work with you, do you hear me? You are a murderer, a Death Eater, a disgusting excuse for a wizard and you are a coward!”

Snape held Harry’s arms, but didn’t hurt him, just prevented him from hitting him again. The closer Harry physically got to Snape, the more his head hurt. The man was practically leaking darkness out of every pore.

 “I can still hear her, you know,” Harry whispered. “when Dementors come anywhere near me, I can hear her scream and beg for my life. And for mercy. I hear her sobbing and dying and it’s your fault.”

Snape looked murderous, Harry felt stupid for not being scared right now. Instead, he freed his right hand from Snape’s grip and smashed the man’s head against the wall, wondering if there would be a grease mark.

 “Touch me again and I will put you in a full body bind, Potter.” Harry let go, but not because of the threat.

 “Stop hurting him, Harry.”

“What is going on?” Harry was almost begging now. Snape sat back down in his chair, his head buried in his hands, white fingers clutching the greasy hair.

 “Out!” he demanded. “Get out of here. Both of you. Go somewhere safe, just get out.”

 For the first time ever, Harry would have gladly obeyed the Potions Master, but Hermione seemed to have other ideas. Instead, she knelt in front of him and grabbed his hands.

 “I am not leaving you… like that Severus.” Harry had missed the point he’d become Severus to her, like he had missed many things, obviously.

 “Go! How many times do I have to say it?”

 “As often as you like. I am not leaving.”