A few weeks later, in the afternoon, Harry sat on a pin chair, reading a book with rapt attention. The end of August presented a heat wave, but inside the shed where Harry sat, the stone walls procured a comfortable temperature and a nearly absolute silence.

The room bore all signs of inhabitation: there was a mattress on the floor with a pillow and a quilt on it. A shelf full of books was placed beside it. Some more books were spread on a medium sized table standing along the farther end. Various old objects had been stowed away in two separate heaps in one corner of the room, hidden beneath big pieces of white cloth. Someone had swept the concrete floor from dust and spread out a simple carpet. The room was lit by a single oil lamp hanging from the middle of the high ceiling. At the ridge of the ceiling there was a deserted bird nest.

In the farthest corner a cauldron was boiling slowly. It contained a thick, purple potion. Shelves were full with what looked like ingredients for an extended potions kit. A smaller cauldron was stuffed away at the highest shelf and a mismatching overlarge lock covered it.

Harry sighed and looked up. It was time soon to go inside and help Mrs Weasley prepare dinner as usual. He put the book away and stood up with difficulty. He had been seated too long. He was stiff and swayed slightly. He looked thin, almost emaciated, with dark shadows under his eyes. He wondered whether Ginny would be home for dinner. They had not seen much of each other the last few days. He no longer went out with her on excursions, nor at night. He needed confinement, got all dizzy and faint if he tried to move about too much, especially to unfamiliar places. His head, strangely, was kept clear enough for reading despite the lack of sleep, but his physical strength was diminished.

Ginny came down to the shed from time to time and sat in silence for a while before she left, determined to get out in the real world and escape the sad place the Burrow had become.  Harry had no means of stopping her and why should he, he wondered. Why should she be reduced to be with her as-good-as-dying boy-friend? He did not wish to limit her world or happiness. Harry knew that she still was not happy. His soul ached at the thought that it was he who inflicted the pain upon her.

Harry fled into books and tried to keep busy with helping Mr and Mrs Weasley with various chores. In the evenings he experimented with potion-making, postponing the dread of the night for as long as he could. 

No answer had followed the letter that Harry had composed with great difficulty and reluctantly sent away by owl to Hogwarts, intended for Professor Snape, nearly three weeks ago.  Ron and Hermione, who should have returned last Saturday, had been retained in Australia for a whole week longer than planned. They would be home by Friday, though, and on the following Monday, the new school term was scheduled to start.

Taking into account the chaotic situation for a lot of students last year, when Muggle borns had not been allowed to Hogwarts at all, and other pupils, like Harry and his friends, had been on the run for other reasons, Hogwarts this year offered special arrangements for everyone who wanted to catch up. Harry, Ron and Hermione had signed up for a seventh year, to obtain NEWT levels which would enable them to move on to higher studies or enter whatever careers they could think of.

A couple of days ago, however, Harry had withdrawn his application as he deemed himself unfit for attending school in his present state. Where would he sleep, for a start? He realised he could under no conditions be kept in a dormitory with these increasingly savage nightmares assailing him. They could perhaps keep him in the Shrieking Shack, Harry thought bitterly. The Shrieking Shack was the solitary and deserted house near Hogwarts, once used to help his father’s friend Lupin keep safe when he transformed into a werewolf every month.

It was at the same Shrieking Shack that his former teacher of Potions, Professor Severus Snape, double spy for Voldemort and Dumbledore, had been attacked by the snake Nagini on direct orders from Voldemort. Harry, albeit a long history of distrust not to say hatred between himself and Snape, had stepped forward to the dying man and had received a bunch of Snape’s memories. These had shown Harry for one thing that Snape had remained loyal to Professor Dumbledore all along and only killed Dumbledore at the old headmaster's own request. Dumbledore was already doomed by a terrible curse that had hit him when he destroyed one of Voldemort’s horcruxes.

Moreover, Snape’s memories revealed his reason for joining Dumbledore’s side eighteen years ago, namely the deep remorse at having been the one who caused Lord Voldemort to start hunting down Lily Evans, married Potter, in order to kill her son, Harry. Because of a prophesy that Snape had overheard and reported to his Dark Lord, Voldemort thought that Harry would present a major threat to him in the future. It had resulted in the deaths of Harry’s parents, Lily and James Potter.

Harry had been told during his very first year at Hogwarts that Severus Snape and James Potter had been enemies when they were at school together and Harry had received repeated proof of Snape’s hatred and - as he was to find out later - not entirely unfounded loathing of James. What he had never suspected, however, was that Snape and Lily Evans, Harry’s mother, knew each other very well since they grew up in the same Muggle town. They had been friends, and Snape’s love for her, despite her marrying James, made him betray Voldemort in an attempt to protect her from being killed.

Snape’s effort had proven vain because another friend of James’, Peter Pettigrew, had betrayed the targeted young couple. When Voldemort attacked, Lily had shielded Harry with Ancient Magic. When she died to save her son, her act of love made the killing curse intended for Harry backfire on Voldemort and the evil wizard had for many years been reduced in powers.

Dumbledore, however, had not thought him gone forever and had foreseen his return. He had persuaded Severus Snape to stay at Hogwarts and help the son of the woman he loved.  Snape had consented, grudgingly it seemed, for he had only ever seen James in Harry and therefore treated Harry unfairly at school. Snape had given him endless criticism and countless detentions, but in essence Snape had been consistent in his love for Lily in so much that he protected Harry’s life. It was he who procured Harry with the last clue of what was expected of him in order to conquer Voldemort definitively.

*

Harry stood up to attend to the boiling cauldron in the corner of the shed and started to add ingredients and to stir carefully. He squinted at the instructions scribbled down on an old, partly torn parchment that was pinned to the edge of a shelf at eye level. He went on, apparently with some ease, tapping the cauldron with his wand now and then, sniffing and stirring. The potion turned a deeper and deeper blue and cleared up to an almost liquid consistence.  Harry seemed satisfied, added a lump of dark resin and magicked the big spoon to stir the potion for itself - he apparently expected it to take a while.

*

His mind returned to Hogwarts three months ago. The hours and the days that followed the battle, he had taken part in attending to the wounded. Harry had used the Elder Wand that he had won from Voldemort. It was supposed to be particularly powerful, and under a healer’s guidance, who had turned up from St Mungo’s, he used it to great effect to ease the pain and to cure the injuries of many.

The worst injured had been moved to St Mungo’s as quickly as possible. Snape, however, had been too seriously wounded by Nagini’s snake bites to be transported away at all. No one thought he was going to survive. He was thought dead at first when found by Harry’s instructions inside the Shrieking Shack and brought up to the Hospital Wing, but eventually a shallow breathing had been detected. Repeated incantations with the Elder Wand only marginally improved his condition.

“We need an antidote, but I’m not sure there is any to this particular snake. He shouldn’t have survived in the first place. I’ve heard of no one who has resisted Nagini,” said a dark haired and bearded healer from St Mungo’s to Mme Pomfrey who simply shook her head. Harry who overheard this, felt strangely oppressed. It felt as if he could not bear one single more death, not even Snape’s, or particularly not his, considering the connection he was now aware of between Snape and his mother.

The giant keeper of Hogwarts, Hagrid, had stood by Snape’s bedside and sobbed.

“He never betrayed us then, bless ‘im! He only killed the ‘eadmaster out of mercy to spare ‘im the sufferin’.”

“I always thought that curse in Dumbledore’s hand was not cured and I understood his time was limited, but it was still such a shock when he went so brutally,” said Mme Pomfrey.

“Must’ve been so ‘ard for Snape to do it, so brave of ‘im and we all turned our backs on ‘im,” Hagrid whimpered, big tears dropping on the bed cover.

Harry, who was reminded of something when he saw the tears of his half-giant friend, turned on the spot to go and find Professor Slughorn, the retired teacher and friend of Dumbledore’s who had replaced Snape as the Potions master for the last two years. Harry knew that Slughorn had some Acromantula venom in his possession, secretly stolen from the corpse of Hagrid’s giant pet spider Aragog at its very funeral.

The venom of Acromentulae was the antagonist of basilisk venom. With the help of Snape’s own old schoolbook of Advanced Potion-making, Harry and Slughorn had concocted an antidote based on the Acromantula venom and containing an infinitesimal amount of the snake venom itself. This, ascertained the notes in Snape’s book, was the very essence for the success of an antidote.

Harry had only stayed so long as to see the effect of the first dose on Snape, which had been dramatic, with stronger breathing, a better colouring of his skin and some eye movements under the closed eyelids at the same time as the fleshy wounds started to close.

On the third day after Voldemort’s death, things had finally begun to calm down and except for the early, direct deaths, all the secondary injured seemed to be recuperating and doing well. In the evening, Harry went off with Ron and Hermione to destroy the Elder Wand. It had done a great job there and then, but was at length, Harry felt, more likely to cause evil than good. Harry had left Hogwarts without speaking to Snape who, he heard later, made a remarkable recovery thanks to the Acromantula antidote over the next weeks.

*

In the shed, Harry moved to his cauldron again and stopped his spoon from stirring. The content was now a shining black colour and Harry looked satisfied with it, put a lid on the cauldron and moved towards the door with dawdling footsteps. 

Squinting in the bright sunlight across the garden towards the house, Harry’s eye was caught by something black and bat-like between the apple trees that moved along the gravelled path leading to the green main door of the house. Harry drew his breath and stopped petrified - this was a figure he knew all too well.

Snape was walking fast and purposefully. No one could have guessed by looking at him that he had been covered in snake bites and an inch from death two months ago.  Harry backed a few steps behind a bush, not to draw attention. He wanted time to compose himself before facing the man he had as a last resort asked for help. Wasn’t it too late now, anyway? He had quite given up the idea of getting assistance and had worked out another plan, hadn’t he? Why had Snape waited for so long to come?

Snape was let inside by Charlie, second among the Weasley siblings, who greeted him with a handshake that seemed cordial enough. The Order of the Phoenix had a decimated body of members since last May, but Charlie was one of the remaining ones, as were the other members of the Weasley family. But Lupin was gone, as was Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody and so many others. Snape had belonged to the Order as well, before he killed Dumbledore. They did not have meetings any longer that Harry was aware of. The Aurors were the ones who dealt with the aftermath of Voldemort.

A few members of the Order came by the Burrow now and then and Harry had heard them discuss the case of Snape with animosity and great puzzlement. Some thought they saw an explanation while others shook their heads and said they just could not make him out. Harry usually avoided so say anything on the subject even if he could feel the inquisitive gazes upon himself.

Snape had always been the odd figure, Harry thought: odd as a teenager when James and Sirius had gone after him in that bullying manner, odd as the Head of Slytherin and the most feared and disliked teacher at Hogwarts, and odd among the members of the Order of the Phoenix, featuring his part of double spy. Harry wondered if he had been an outsider among the Death Eaters as well, or if he had melted in better in that gang.

Harry approached the green door in his turn. He let himself in with trembling hands and shut the door quietly. His heart was racing. He heard voices from the living-room. At the same moment he saw Ginny’s head pop out through the chink of the door to her room down the corridor. She had heard the voices as well.

“Who?” she asked as she advanced.

“Snape,” whispered Harry.

“But then you must go inside,” she said eagerly. “You look terrible,” she added.

Harry tried to pull himself together. He had faced Snape before, had he not? His experience in the past of his ex-teacher had taught him that you always needed to be on the alert when being around him, and Harry did not feel very acute for the moment being. But maybe Snape would have a more approving attitude towards Harry, now that his feelings for Lily Evans had been revealed? Harry drew a deep breath and entered. 

“ … So the Ministry’s disorganised at the moment. But Shacklebolt’s a strong leader and he just needs some time to sort it out. I know he wants to give us all the resources requested to bring Hogwarts back to what it has been - and that he makes it a priority!” Percy was standing in the middle of the room, a little red on his cheeks. True to his habit, he defended the Ministry against some remark made by Snape. The others noticed Harry’s entrance as he slipped in with Ginny and shut the door after them, but Snape did not turn his head.

“That is nothing I have noticed,” he snorted. “Stone blocks for the ramparts of the castle were due more than a fortnight ago and have still not turned up. Dormitories and class rooms are repaired and fit for use again, but the Entrance Hall still looks like a combat field.”

“It still does?” whispered Mrs Weasley and looked blankly in front of her as she sank down onto the seat of an armchair. She bent forwards and covered her face with her hands. “It’s nothing,” she gasped as the others approached her in concern, but she was shaking quite uncontrollably, “…just a flash back you know… took me by surprise.” She had difficulties articulating the words. “Not your fault, Professor… happens all the time... it’ll be over in a moment.”  Harry had not seen her this shaken lately, though, and felt a surge of resentment toward Snape for bringing it on so thoughtlessly.

The professor looked down on Mrs Weasley with an impassive expression on his face. He started mumbling an incantation while his left hand made slow movements in the air, palm directed at Mrs Weasley. It reminded Harry of the healing incantations he had been taught to perform by Mme Pomfrey after the battle, but it was not exactly the same.  Mrs Weasley seemed to relax and leaned back in the armchair, eyes closed. Snape’s voice died out, he gripped the back of the armchair with his hand and stood very still.

“Thank you so much, Professor,” said Mrs Weasley in a stronger voice. “That was more effective than anything the healers from St Mungo’s ever managed for me.” She opened her eyes and looked gratefully at Snape. “But of course, you would know.” An appreciating chorus of murmurs rose from the other family members. Mr Weasley cleared his voice and blinked vigorously.

“So, will you stay then as headmaster, Severus?” he asked Snape. “There’ve been various rumours, you know, at the Ministry. First that you didn’t want to stay. Then that you changed your mind, and now they’re speaking of some sort of an inquiry, all the same?”

Playing his part as one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters, Snape had been nominated Headmaster at Hogwarts the previous year, supported by the Dark Lord who had gained control over the institutions of the Magical community. Keeping him on the post now after the fall of Voldemort was, naturally, a controversial matter.

“For the moment being, I remain at my post,” replied Snape. “I’ve worked hard since my recovery to make the school fit for reopening. But as your son just stated, the Ministry is chaotic. And I’m mistrusted… which is understandable… Kingsley stands behind me though, which is enough at the moment. We’ll see about the inquiry. Priority now is to see to it that pupils can be accommodated in less than a week’s time and lessons get started. There’s a lot to do.”

“We’re lucky,” reflected Mr Weasley, “to have persons like yourself around, in vacillating times like this, who are able to act forcefully and work for the rebuilding. So many of us still seem to be paralysed.” His voice trailed off before he found courage to continue. “You would think that after a victory like this one over Voldemort, getting rid of the darkest force in all times, you would feel empowered, not confused.“

“Now, don’t be so harsh on yourself, Arthur,” intervened Mrs Weasley. “Grief is working on so many of us, you cannot expect otherwise.” A short silence followed her comment.

”Now please, what brings you here, Professor? What can be important enough for you to leave your work at Hogwarts?” asked Mrs Weasley. Harry held his breath. Snape had not yet met his eyes, nor greeted him in any way.

“There are three things,” said Snape. “First there is a security matter that I want to discuss with you.”

“Security?” echoed Mr Weasley, surprised.

“Security at Hogwarts,” clarified Snape. “There are still a number of Death Eaters at the loose who are after revenge. I am myself a hot target, I believe. There’re also a number of students who are at risk and that we have to plan for.” Eyes gazed at Harry now, but Snape still did not look at him. “So when I received a letter from Mr Harry Potter a few days ago where he resigns his place at Hogwarts, I felt that I had to come and confirm such an important matter, as it will have great repercussions on the security measures at Hogwarts.”

Exclaims were heard from all parts of the room. Percy pointed accusingly at Harry.

“Is it true - are you not going back to Hogwarts? What with Ron and Hermione?”

“Harry, what’s this? We didn’t know,” pleaded Mrs Weasley.

“Please explain to us, Harry,” said Mr Weasley. “I know you haven’t been well this summer, but to resign school now? It’s a unique opportunity to catch up, it won’t come back.  Your whole future is at stake. I thought you wanted to become an Auror?” They were all dumbfounded.

“Yes, please let us hear your explanation, Mr Potter,” Snape said silkily, finally turning to face Harry.

Harry felt his palms and upper lip go clammy. He swallowed. Would he have to answer for his resignation in front of them all? Snape obviously wanted to plague him, relishing the sensation of the news he had sprung on them, having guessed, quite correctly, that Harry had not told the Weasleys about his decision. Maybe it was just as well, Harry thought. He had planned to tell them when Ron and Hermione came home but they had to be told sooner or later anyhow.

“Good day to you, Mr Potter,” said Snape, eying Harry from top to toe. He always spat out Harry’s surname.

“Good afternoon, Professor,” replied Harry.

“You failed to die, I heard,” said Snape coldly.

“So did you, I believe, Professor,” retorted Harry. He thought he saw a flicker of a smile in George’s face, right behind Snape’s shoulder, and it strengthened him. He put his trembling hands in his back pockets. He would not have Snape humiliate him in front of everyone. At least not that. He cleared is voice.

“Yes, I changed my mind, I will not return to Hogwarts. I know this comes as a surprise to you all, but I’ve given it a lot of thought over the summer. And if I can unload Professor Snape of a burden at the bargain that’s all very well,” added Harry and inclined his head slightly towards Snape who curled his lips.

“And you have decided to do what instead?” asked Snape softly. All the heads in the room were turned towards Harry.

“Er... Well, that’s my business actually... I’ll live at Sirius’ old place, he left it to me, you know and … I will travel.  I’d very much like to travel around a bit,” Harry finished lamely.  Ginny snorted.

“You’re not well, Harry,” intervened Mrs Weasley. ”With your nightmares, you’re not getting enough sleep. You’re not fit to travel around. Moreover you heard Professor Snape – there’re Death Eaters around, you’ll need protection.” 

“I’ve heard something about nightmares…” Snape started to say, but Harry interrupted him.

“I think I’ll be perfectly able to take care of myself, thank you! I did after all escape Voldemort for a year and ended up killing him, you know,” he said stiffly. “And nightmares are getting better, thanks, won’t be a problem,” he cut short. Snape drew out a letter from inside his robes.

“Should I disregard what is written in this letter, then?” he asked.

“Yes, you should,” Harry said defiantly, after a slight hesitation.

“Otherwise I was going to offer you my help in exchange for something I believe you have in your possession that is mine,” continued Snape in his silky voice. Harry did not immediately see what that could be, and he was too angry and humiliated to care.

“I don’t want your help, thank you,” he persisted, without lowering his eyes, which were fastened upon Snape. He was rewarded by what he thought was a twinkle of annoyance in Snape’s dark eyes.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Ginny was trembling with anger and her eyes were firing at both Harry and Snape. “You!” she hissed at Harry, “...will tell him everything... and if there is this much...” she held up her thumb and index in front of him measuring a mere millimetre space, “...of a chance that he might help you, you’ll accept his aid. And you, Professor, will not humiliate a person in distress!” Her eyes filled with tears but she kept her head erect and turned her back on them as she walked out of the room. Snape looked slightly disconcerted. At least he did not sneer. Harry swallowed.

“Could I have a word in private, please, Professor?” he said quietly. Snape nodded and followed him out of the room in silence.