Slowly, hesitantly, he knocked on the only door upstairs that was shut. In the meantime, he looked around himself. It was obviously a council house, and not one of the good ones. It was cold, draughty, and every door had cheap plastic handles. The carpet was brown with many stains on it.

 No answer came.

 Against better judgement (as usual) he tried to open it, only to find that the door handle didn’t budge.

 “Let me in!” Harry demanded.

 “No. Get away from the door.” Instead of doing that, Harry just stood there and waited. He heard Snape swear, but no movement.

 “I need to apologise to you, Professor.”

 “For whose sake, Potter? And I am not your professor.”

 Harry didn’t really see much chance of getting inside, but he wasn’t giving up, either.

 “I am sorry. I shouldn’t just have presumed-”

 “You were supposed to, Potter.”

 Harry continued. “I shouldn’t have presumed from the beginning. I shouldn’t have looked into your Pensieve and –I”

 “Go away. For heaven’s sake.  Go downstairs.”

 “I just wanted to say… I forgive you and-”

     “I don’t want your forgiveness, boy.”

 “You mean you think you don’t deserve it?”

 There was silence. Then Harry heard short, heated gasps. “Can I come in?”

 More silence. More gasping breaths. “Are you crying, Snape?” It felt oddly wrong to address him by his second name now.

 “You would love that, wouldn’t you? Snivellus’ ultimate humiliation. Go away, Potter, I am in no shape to talk to you right now. Go. Please.”

 Harry was completely distraught, but it was Snape’s last word that finally made him give up.