Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Chapter 33 Angst, Oblivion and Regrets

As he crept out of the gigantic mantle piece in the middle of the Emergency Hall at St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Harry became aware of people gathering around him. He distinguished several care-workers who bent over him with concern written on their faces.

“There’s blood on his chest. Is he hit by a bayoneting curse?”

“No, it comes out of his mouth. A toungue-cutting spell?”

“Look at his leg! That's an Avada wound, I’d recognise it among anything!”

“Have you been attacked, young man? What’s your name?”

”There is a slight resemblance to Harry Potter. Do you think it could be…?”

“No, I recognise him. It’s the young healer apprentice that helped us out some months ago when that mass attack took place. He’s a Grief Swallower.”

“Oh, Healer Snape! Is this your patient?” The staff backed off respectfully as Snape came stooping out of the fire place, shaking his head and brushing ashes from the front of his robe.

“This young man needs to be attended to quickly. He might want to choose his own healer, though. Be our guest, Mr Po… er… Mr Evans!” Snape realised at the last moment that it would be preferable to conceal Harry’s identity for as long as possible. Nevertheless, he gestured with irony at the assembled healers as if Harry was allowed to pick and choose among them. Harry, who gulped down blood that was surging up from his airways and mixed with ashes from the flo, looked up at the unfamiliar faces, made a resigned grimace and looked back at Snape.

“Will you allow me to assist you, Healer Snape?” said a fair-haired care-witch in a brisk voice.

“Yes, please, get me the Myoviving Potion first of all. We’re running out of time for the Avada wound,” said Snape. Harry had risen on his healthy leg with great difficulty and was swaying. Snape was handed a crutch by someone and manouvered it smoothly into Harry’s armpit. He put a hand on Harry’s back and gestured for him to jump over to a more secluded place where Harry could sit down on a wooden pin chair.

Snape knelt down, bent over Harry’s leg and murmured the Reviving spell at the same time as the care-witch came up to their side and made Harry drink from a cup.

“Five drops?” she asked Snape. She made a competent impression.

“To start with, yes, Care-witch McFare, thank you,” said Snape without lifting his head. It was obvious that they had worked together before.

“Will you need the Dewcup Potion too?” she asked.

“Well spotted, McFare,” said Snape, “or have you taken care of the other patient with Apparition lung bleeding?”

“I have,” said the care-witch with a blush. “I’ll fetch the potion for you.”

Harry sat with his eyes closed, indifferent to what Snape did to his leg. He pointed his wand at himself and repeated the anti-nausea spell fervently.

“Don’t throw up on me, Potter,” Snape warned him.

“It would help if I didn’t have to swallow all this blood,” said Harry with difficulty.

“Don’t swallow the blood for heavens sake! It only makes you more nauseous. Spit it out!”

“What, on the floor?” said Harry in confusion.

“You’re capable of conjuring up a basin on your own, are you not? I’m busy saving your leg. Don’t make me interrupt the treatment.”

Harry felt stupid and did as Snape said. It only took a second to conjure up the basin, but it was enough for the anti-nausea spell to lose its effect, resulting in Harry’s body being assailed by convulsive vomiting, and the basin filled with copious amounts of blackened blood. He sat on his chair with a turning head, panting and spitting blood until Snape finished with the leg and could direct his attention to Harry’s lungs. Snape repeated the healing incantation from the morning and the blood cleared away, although a searing feeling in the throat lingered more prominently than before and every breath hurt.

“Here, you need to take the Myoviving Potion again. You lost most of it when you threw up.” Snape poured him another dosage.

“Thank you,” muttered Harry. “Will my leg be okay?”

“We’ll assess the effect in another hour when I will repeat the treatment,” answered Snape. “Where is McFare? The lung wound is getting sore, I suspect. It’s liable to reopen at the least provocation. You need to inhale.” He looked around and spotted the fair-haired care-witch who approached them with a flushed face.

“I’m sorry, this is all we’ve got. I didn’t realise before that the potion was so old. And the other patient has used up most of it.”

“The other patient? That must be Ginny. Is she okay? Where is she? I want to go to her.” Harry rose and looked around eagerly.

“Sit down, Po… Harry. You’ll see her after you’ve received your treatment. But what’s this?” Snape glared at care-witch McFare. ”This potion is nearly useless! What is this rubbish?” Snape scrutinised the opalescent potion that had been poured out on a golden, saucer-like object in metal with low edges. “The potion doesn’t hold a fraction of its original effect. Why don’t you get rid of such old batches?”

“I knew you would object,” said the care-witch unhappily. “I’m sorry - the other healer didn’t protest when we gave it to the girl. But then we needed greater amounts than usual.”

“You’ve used it on Miss Weasley already? This is irresponsible!  By Merlin, it’s an Emergency Draught. Such potions should be kept in stock, ready for use, fresh and potent! Otherwise you’ll just get the side effects without obtaining results on the disease!”

“I know, Healer Snape. But these Apparition bleedings are more common in the summer, during the vacation period. I guess we’ve not had a case for long now.”

“That’s no excuse not to look over your Emergency Draughts on a weekly, if not on a daily basis!” snapped Snape.

“I agree with you, Healer Snape, but there’s no one to guide us. The management seems to believe that the Emergency will function on its own. The healers only care about their own wards in the house. They come down - ever so reluctantly some of them, I’d like to point out - to the Emergency to do their shifts and they don’t care about the overall structure. And you yourself were not here the last two summers. Before, when you used to work in the summer months, you at least forced us to go through the potions stock once a year. To the complaints of some people, I know - but I think they’re beginning to realise the value of that work now, because things have been worse than ever this year. You always made sure things were in good order before you started to work.”

“Why, of course I did - this is an Emergency ward. We’re supposed to be able to help people quickly! Not leave in the middle of an assessment to prepare potions as the patients come along. You lose copious amounts of time that way!” Snape made an irritated gesture. “I’ll give you some of this, Harry, but then I’ll have to prepare some more to give to you and Ginny both - a fresh potion that is. Only lucky it’s one that doesn’t need to mature. Please go and collect the ingredients for me then, McFare, and I’m sorry I raised my voice. It’s not your fault, clearly.”

Harry did not listen very carefully to what they said because he thought he heard Ginny’s voice. She was crying. His heart beat quicker and he stood up again.

“She’s upset. I must go to her,” he said urgently.

“No, Harry, wait. Just inhale a few breaths,” said Snape and held the saucer in front of Harry as he swirled the potion up like vapour in the air with his wand and directed the steam at Harry’s mouth. But Harry was wild to locate Ginny and did not pay attention. He looked to the left and to the right at the small booths along the wall. Which one did the wails that were increasing in strength come from?

“Po… Harry! Sit down!” Snape roared at him.

Suddenly two strong hands landed on Harry’s shoulders and forced him down on the chair. Harry already had his wand drawn and he reacted instinctively as he sent the big-boned care-wizard that had pressed him down away with a spell. His eyes were flashing. All at once, four care-workers approached him from different directions with wands drawn. He spread out a shield to hold them back at the same time as Snape roared:

“Lower your shield, Harry - your magic is needed to help you heal, don’t spend it. Back off all of you! I don’t need help, I can handle him. I don’t want you to use force on him. I’ll take care of it. Leave him. Back off!” The care-workers looked sceptically at Snape but lowered their wands and did as he said.

“Three breaths, and I’ll show you where she is,” said Snape in a low voice to Harry. Burning with impatience, Harry inhaled the vapour. “Deeper!” said Snape and Harry repeated it twice. “Second booth from the right,” said Snape and let Harry limp away.

Thin curtains covered the entrance to the booth from where he heard the shrill voice of Ginny, sometimes wretched and afraid, sometimes angry and threatening. The sight which met him when he drew the curtains to the side was pitiful. Mr Weasley sat on a chair in a dejected position with his head in his hands. Ginny was standing up and her face was streaked with tears. Ron and Hermione were at her side trying to talk to her and trying to restrain her. Ron actually had a fresh scratch on his cheek and they both looked exhausted. When they caught sight of Harry, they let go of Ginny.

“Goodness, Harry!” said Hermione while Ron looked immensely relieved. Ginny let out a cry and threw herself at Harry so that he was nearly knocked over as he only had one functioning leg to keep his balance on. Ron got hold of his right hand and prevented him from falling. Hermione threw one arm around Ginny and the other around Harry and hugged them fiercely, whereas Ron patted Harry’s shoulder with his free hand, blinking ferociously and saying nothing.

Ginny started to speak incoherently to Harry, explaining how they had prevented her from going to look for him and how scared she was and that she thought she had heard the green-haired wizard outside the booth and how afraid she had been. In the middle of her harangue, she also mentioned Fred and the battle against Voldemort. Anguish was shining out of her eyes.

“Harry,” she pleaded, “I’m not well. I cannot deal with this. I’m so scared. I’m afraid someone will attack us again. And I keep having these flash-backs, not only from tonight but from last year. Why is that coming now? It’s impossible to relax. I believe I hear things. I thought you wouldn’t come back.” She started to cry.

Harry sat down with her on a slim stretcher placed inside the booth, hugged her, spoke to her soothingly and she calmed down a bit.

“Healer Schufflert was here earlier,” said Ron, “She’s on duty. She gave Ginny a tranquillising potion, but Ginny’s anxiety only got worse. The healer’s supposed to come back and check on her.”

Ginny cried against Harry’s shoulder, trembling in her whole body. Mr Weasley had risen and patted her gently on the head.

“Molly agreed to stay at home and wait for us. I’m glad for it. I hope Ginny’ll be able to calm down before we return,” he said.

“It’ll be okay. It might take some time. It was awful what we went through,” said Harry. Ginny started to hyperventilate.

“Don’t tell them. Please, don’t tell them...”she pleaded, “I can’t stand to hear about it right now.”

“I won’t, Ginny, I promise,” said Harry.

The curtain was drawn aside again, which made Harry start and Ginny shriek and fling her arms up over her head.

“There, there, it was only Healer Schufflert,” said Harry. “I’m sorry I frightened you, Ginny. I agree with you that these booths are not comfortable. You have no idea of who’s approaching, or what’s happening outside.”

Healer Schufflert cast one look on Ginny and shook her head. She greeted Harry briefly and turned immediately to Mr Weasley.

“I propose we give her an Obliviating treatment,” she said. Both Harry and Hermione let out exclamations of dismay. Ginny lifted her head to look pleadingly at them.

“I don’t want to be here,” she panted. “Let me go home to Mum now. Let’s go Harry! If only we get back at the Burrow, everything’ll be fine.”

“I’m afraid not, Miss Weasley,” said Healer Schufflert. “The trauma that you’ve experienced has sensitised your nerves so that the anxiety is excited very easily and it’s hard work to dampen the reaction. Wherever you are, you’ll feel the same. You cannot escape physically from anxiety.”

“Do you mean I’ll be like this forever?” Ginny’s eyes widened. “That I cannot get away from it?”

“Not unless you do an Obliviating treatment, then the anxiety will dissolve,” said the healer.

“Why do you say that?” asked Hermione. “You’re pushing her.”

“Of course she’ll feel better when she goes home to her mother,” said Harry forcefully. “Mrs Weasley is a very comforting and safe kind of person. She loves Ginny. So do I. Ginny has got friends who’ll support her. She has every chance of getting well again.” Healer Schufflert looked sceptically back at him.

“Harry, I cannot live like this,” wailed Ginny. ”What if it never goes away? Please, please, I don’t know where to go, what to do with myself. Please, I’m dissolving to pieces right now. I cannot breathe! I’m dying! Help me!” She was panting and beginning to thrash about aimlessly.

“She’s panicking. We must do it right now!” said Healer Schufflert and brandished her wand at Ginny.

“No!” exclaimed Harry and Hermione in unison. Mr Weasley and Ron just stared terror-stricken at Ginny’s shattered person.

“You mustn’t... I can do... a Relieving...” It suddenly struck Harry what he must do. Somewhere something told him that he was not in an optimal condition to perform a Relieving incantation on another person, but this was Ginny and he would do anything for her. He collected his focus, gathered all his forces, directed them at Ginny and read the incantation with calm and determined ardour.

It was a shock to receive the roaring anxiety and the agony of death when he had himself faced it only a few hours ago. Harry fell to his knees and gripped the edge of the stretcher with both hands, but did not let out a sound. There was fear and anxiety and apprehension that roared through his body. He could take it; he could bear it; his nerves could attenuate it. Ron and Hermione rushed to his side and helped him up. He looked at Ginny who took deep breaths.

“Finally free,” she murmured. “Thank you, Harry.” She sat down beside him, took his hand in one of hers and stroked his cheek. “My bravest darling! My strongest, gentlest and kindest...”

At this moment the curtain was drawn aside again and Snape appeared with a potions bottle in his hand. He looked from Healer Schufflert to Harry who looked back at him with a feverish gaze, surrounded and patted by his friends. Snape swore aloud and turned to Healer Schufflert.

“Have you allowed him to do a Relieving? Surely you could see that he’s not fit to perform such magic? He’s sick, wounded and magically weakened. Harry, what were you thinking of?”

Snape looked like he wanted to continue to scold Harry, but managed to hold himself back. Muttering to himself he stepped up to put his fingers on Harry’s wrist, feel his pulse, look into his eyes and touch his forehead with such a truly concerned countenance that it surprised Mr Weasley and Harry’s friends. Snape shook his head.

“You’re strong, Harry. But a Quidditch player can only take so much that still allows him to fly on. Do you understand? There’s a limit!” Snape penetrated Harry with a stern gaze.

“I know. I’m okay. Healer Schufflert was going to Obliviate Ginny if I hadn’t done it,” said Harry in a muffled voice. Ginny laid her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder and carding her fingers through his hair.

“How do you feel, Miss Ginny?” asked Snape, surprisingly gently.

“Relieved. I can breathe. I thought I would explode, be crushed, dissolve in panic... but Harry took it all away.”

“It’ll come back,” said Healer Schufflert. Snape frowned.

“Be quiet please, Mrs Schufflert” he snapped at her.

“I didn’t ask him to perform a Relieving, if that’s what you think,” Healer Schufflert said sharply. “I advocated a swift Obliviating treatment and was trying to convince Miss Weasley...”

“You pressured her, you scared her… Don’t you realise that?” said Hermione.

“You, young lady, are very opinionated which might intimidate your friends – have you thought about that?” the elegant healer retorted sharply.

Hermione was taken aback by her verbal assault and looked bewildered at Ron who coloured slightly. Mr Weasley cleared his voice.

“At least we can discuss matters in a quieter way and make a decision after careful consideration, thanks to Harry’s intervention,” he said.

“Mr Weasley, you’re not seriously thinking of allowing the healers to do an Obliviating spell on your daughter, are you?” said Hermione, incredulous.

“Hermione, you’re prejudiced against it because of what happened to your mother,” objected Ginny.

“What if I am? There are loads of risks.”

They embarked on an animated debate. Snape kept out of the argumentation, busy preparing the Dewcup potion in silence. He let Ginny and Harry inhale it in turns. Harry was too weak to let himself be heard in the discussion very much at first.

“It’s ridiculous! If Healer Schufflert makes you forget what happened in Paris, everybody else will know except you, who were actually there. It’s absurd! You’ll read about it in the newspapers for one thing,” cried Hermione.

“I don’t expect you to understand the intricate essence of this complicated treatment, Miss Granger, but I can explain the general idea to you. Which does not imply to hide the facts of what happened to Miss Weasley. The purpose of the treatment is to take away the emotional memories - her own memories - connected with fear and anxiety. You’ll be allowed to relate the events as soon as the treatment is finished. In that way, she’ll know what happened, but she’ll not feel it or see the images, nor hear the sounds of it happening...”

Ginny shuddered and cast a furtive glance at Harry.

At last Mrs Schufflert and Hermione seemed to have emptied their arguments, for it was mostly them who debated. Mr Weasley only asked neutral questions and Ron did not dare to say much between his girlfriend and his therapist. When they finally fell silent, Ginny turned to Harry.

“I want to do it,” she said. She raised a hand to silence Hermione who had opened her mouth once again. “Harry, I can already feel the anxiety coming back, and I’m so afraid it’ll be the same thing all over again. You cannot Relieve me all the time. You shouldn’t even have done it this once. And I don’t want to depend on your help.”

“Ginny, I want to help you. We can handle it together. The memories will grow weaker eventually. You’ll feel safe again.”

Ginny shook her head.

“It might take months, maybe years. I’m not prepared to feel bad for that long, to be afraid, to be dependant… tied up to you, to Mother...”

Harry frowned.

“We would support you, not tie you up!”

“I know, but I want to be strong and healthy and be able to do things - now.”

“You are strong, Ginny. We defended ourselves tonight. We got out of there, don’t you see?”

“Only thanks to you killing...”

“Don’t talk about it, please, Ginny...”

“See, you too are affected.”

“Of course, I am! But I can handle it. And so can you.”

“I don’t want to feel that terrible again, Harry, please!”

“You’re afraid of the anxiety itself. Don’t you hear how absurd that sounds? The anxiety’s not dangerous. Just let it pass, it cannot kill you – it disappears eventually.”

“That’s why you’re a Grief Swallower, Harry. I’m not. I cannot stand it.”

“But Ginny, the Obliviating treatment might have side effects, like Hermione said. What about that girl in the newspaper...” Harry looked quickly at Snape. “She got Obliviated last year at Hogwarts and she experiences agony because there’s a blank in her life. She’s scared and anxious, not knowing what happened to her.”

“You heard Mrs Schufflert. You’ll tell me what happened. It’s not like that girl who doesn’t know and who fantasises about all kind of terrible things.”

Snape kept his head bent down.

“You won’t really know what happened. There’ll be a gap in your memory. You won’t have images, you won’t know for yourself.”

“I don’t want those images!” Ginny exclaimed impatiently.

“Please, Ginny, reconsider. This is madness, we’re all prepared to support you.”

Ron and Hermione nodded solemnly and Mr Weasley attempted a small reassuring smile at his daughter.

Ginny remained silent, but shook her head.

“What’s your opinion about the Obliviating treatment, Professor Snape?” asked Harry.

The question seemed to startle Snape. He looked up to meet Ginny’s and Harry’s gazes fastened upon him and frowned slightly.

“I’m principally against Obliviating treatments,” he said slowly. “I believe them to have detrimental effects at long term, although they might provide relief in the short term. Once you’ve done it, you cannot undo it. There are reverse spells, of course, but they won’t restore your memory to exactly the same and my opinion is that you should be in possession of as much of your senses as you can, at all times. Ultimately though, I believe that it’s the choice of the person concerned.” He bowed courtly toward Ginny.

“Do you hear that - he thinks that I should decide for myself,” Ginny said flatly to Harry.

“Of course it’s you who decide! I’m only trying to persuade you not to go through with it. You heard him – detrimental long term effects! You just cannot do it, Ginny, please!”

Ginny was silent for a while. When she raised her eyes at Harry again, there were tears in them.

“I cannot stand to be weak,” she whispered.

“We’ll fight our way back,” Harry answered softly, persuasively.

“It‘ll take too long... I’m sorry Harry, I’m not prepared to wait. I want to live my life, not hide somewhere and feel bad. Like you behaved this summer when you were ill… All those weeks…  Or like my family when they mourned Fred… I know it’s normal to grieve, but it’s so debilitating! Why, Mother’s only starting to get over it… It has taken her almost a year. I’ve had enough of misery! There’s the Quidditch Tournament Trial in only three weeks time…”

Harry looked confused at Ginny.

“Do you want to do an Obliviating treatment to be able to attend a Quidditch trial?” he said incredulous.

“Harry,” said Ron warningly, but Ginny had already flared up.

“You never took that seriously when I told you, did you, Harry? You’ve left the Quidditch pitch, I can tell. Qidditch’s only a trivial piece of exercise to you nowadays. Well, not to me, and if you had listened to me you would know that! I want to play in the league next year and all the teams are coming to watch the tournament at Hogwarts to look for recruits. I’m determined to join one of the teams and play in London this autumn!”

Harry tried to repress the irritation he felt and to be rational.

“And so you might very well be able to do – without that treatment, Ginny. Why don’t you believe that of yourself? You have amazing powers and strength!”

“I won’t be able to do it if I’m afraid of going outside my house or if I start to shake every time I see a green light, will I? I’m not prepared to take the risk, Harry!”

It was Harry’s turn to have tears of frustration in his eyes. He rose from the stretcher.

“What about me?” he said with some heat. “We were in this together. We lived this. You want to leave me alone with those horrible memories. You abandon me.”

Ginny looked stubbornly back at him.

“I wouldn’t be of any use to you, if I crumpled up in agony every day, if I depended on your Relievings. I couldn’t support you or love you.”

“I would wait for you to recover. I love you even when you’re not strong, Ginny,” Harry whispered pleadingly.

Ron and Hermione looked from Ginny to Harry with gaping mouths. Mr Weasley stirred uneasily whereas Snape was completely still. Mrs Schufflert looked upon them with a stern face and one eyebrow raised.

“I’ll take the treatment,” said Ginny defiantly.

Harry clenched his fists. His eyes showed disbelief and disappointment as he turned around and limped out of the booth.

Hermione rushed after Harry in bewilderment and Snape rose to follow her.

“Don’t take the treatment until we’re back,” Snape turned hurriedly to say to Ginny. “Promise me that, Miss Ginny!”

Ginny nodded. She had tears in her eyes again.

At first Snape could not locate Harry, but he spotted Hermione and went up to her. She pointed at a secluded area behind a pillar. Harry was limping back and fro the few meters between the wall and the pillar. A hibiscus tree planted in a pot shielded him from the major part of the waiting hall which, as always, was crowded with people. Harry’s cheeks were wet with tears and he wiped his eyes incessantly with the back of his hands, one of which still clutched his wand. Every now and then his right leg would suddenly give way and he would stumble and nearly fall. In the midst of everything he seemed to have created an invisible strap in the air with magic, like the ones on old Muggle buses. He grabbed it each time he stumbled and pulled himself up. Hermione smiled weakly.

“He has become so inventive...”

Snape grunted softly.

“I’ve never heard them quarrel like this before,” continued Hermione in a low voice. “Don’t misunderstand me, Professor, they disagree sometimes and naturally they have arguments, and Ginny gets mad at him, but they always make up and in most matters it’s usually Harry who yields. But he doesn’t mind. Nothing’s very important to him, compared to... compared to what he has lived, I suppose... so he lets Ginny have her way, and that’s that, but now... I’ve never seen him upset with her for real.”

Snape seemed troubled.

“I’m going to talk to him,“ said Hermione.

“Tell him to stop kicking at that pillar. He doesn’t feel any pain because of the Avada wound, so he can break his toes if he goes on...” Snape said urgently to her, because Harry had stopped to lean his forehead against the stone pillar and was kicking at it. Hermione let out an exclamation and hurried up to Harry.

Snape watched Hermione try to speak to her friend who, however, turned his head away. She lay a hand on his shoulder that he shook off. She pleaded with him and eventually got him to sit down on a chair. He stared at the floor, elbows at his knees, head bent, as Hermione seemed to argue in earnest with him at the same time as she drew her wand and made a healing spell at his foot. Harry shook his head vehemently as she spoke and avoided to look at her. At last he answered her. She let him go and he returned to his pillar and reverted to mumbling to himself with closed eyes. He abstained from kicking, though.

“He’s beside himself,” said Hermione as she returned to Snape. Her mouth was twitching and her voice was thick. “He’s so disappointed with her. He didn’t say that, but I reckon that’s what it’s about. And he’s worried about what it’ll do to her. How can she even consider it? It’s madness! Had I ever known, I would never have done what I did to my parents. I would’ve thought of another way... Obliviating is not safe! And to allow it to be done on you, willingly... What madness! But Ginny will no doubt go through with it. When she has made up her mind, nothing can change it.”

Snape only listened to her with half an ear. He seemed to be debating silently with himself. After a short silence he said:

“I’ll try to speak to him. Stay here, Miss Granger.”

Hermione watched him approach Harry with caution, stop at a safe distance and bring out his wand to draw a Muffliato spell around the two of them. He must be keen not to be overheard, Hermione thought. Snape spoke hesitantly at first and Harry seemed as unreachable as Hermione had found him. He turned away and shook his head several times. Snape was perseverant, though. It looked as if he pleaded with Harry while taking several steps forward and gripping Harry’s arm to make him turn around. Harry shot him a gaze over his shoulder and was caught by something in Snape’s expression that Hermione could not see as Snape had his back to her. Reluctantly, Harry seemed to begin to listen. Snape gestured emphatically as he spoke. Harry asked Snape something back with surprise written on his face and started to listen eagerly to what Snape had to say. Snape grew agitated, seemed to argue and explain something. Harry’s countenance shifted from wretchedness to reserve, through wrapped attention and, finally, changed into resignation.

From Harry’s point of view, he barely took notice at first of his professor approaching, until Snape addressed him:

“Harry, I must speak to you.”

“Leave me alone, Professor.”

“You have to return to Miss Ginny before she takes her treatment. It’s essential!”

Harry only shook his head.

“Listen, if she’s Obliviated before you have sorted things out between you and her, there’s a risk of you two gliding apart, and I don’t think that you want that to happen, do you?”

“But she... she’s prepared to...” Harry was too upset to speak and turned away from Snape, with new tears running down his cheeks.

“She’s afraid - scared out of her wits, and that pushes people to make bad decisions sometimes,” said Snape.

“But you seem to imply that I should go along with it. To let her do it.”

“If you love her, yes you must.”

“I don’t think it’s good for her!”

“That’s only up to her to judge, you must respect her decision.”

“But she lets me down... she leaves me alone... She betrays me! Don’t you see?”

“That might be so, but still... You must forgive her, or you jeopardise your whole future.”

“Why do you say that? Why must I give in?” Harry let out a shriek of exasperation. “She’s the one being irrational, why don’t you try to persuade her? You don’t even believe in Obliviating treatments!”

“I think she has made up her mind and that the decision therefore rests with you - only you - whether you can forgive her or not, and support her. Please Harry, don’t make the mistake of letting your hurt feelings stand in the way of your future happiness.” Snape grabbed Harry’s arm.

Harry was about to tear away from him when he caught the expression of pain in Snape’s face.

“When someone’s gone…” the older wizard whispered hoarsely, ”gone for ever... you look for every tiny little thing that you could have done differently... You revolve on every single meeting, every word... You learn to loath all your petty feelings of wounded vanity... and you regret all your selfish decisions... Because when the person’s gone, it’s too late to make up, too late to smoother things, to reunite... You’d do anything - believe me - anything, to change...” Snape’s voice faltered.

Without realising it, Harry clutched Snape’s arm back. The frustration in Harry’s face was replaced with sorrow and sympathy.

“Were you parted from Lily because of such circumstances?” he asked in a low, muffled voice. Snape shook his head and let go of Harry’s arm.

“Because of petty, petty circumstances...” he said bitterly. “The situation I was thinking of in particular was when Lily decided not to go to St Mungo’s School of Magical Medicine.” Harry frowned.

“My mother wanted to become a healer?” he asked.

“We talked about it the summer before our last year at Hogwarts, her and me,” replied Snape. ”We planned to enter the program together. Your mother was very interested in healing procedures. In my opinion, she was cut out for the profession: her character, her gentleness and her powers. But somehow she had got stuck on this thing about being a Grief Swallower. I had told her that I probably was one, because of my inheritance, and she thought it was a wonderful quality. I suppose I encouraged her to think so and emphasised the good parts of it – as a kind of counterbalance to my... incontestably darker sides.”

Snape looked down and a shadow of uncertainty passed on Harry’s face.

”She loathed and feared that side,” Snape forced himself to continue, ”represented mostly by my studies of the Dark Arts. She tried to persuade me to throw my books of Dark Arts away and I tried to explain to her that they were an integral part of becoming a healer in order to be able to deal with Dark Arts injuries... At any rate, she came to believe herself a Grief Swallower. We had practiced healing incantations and I had taught her to do a Relieving the summer before seventh year. We tried it out on small animals back in Destersbridge, healing injured birds mostly.”

Harry smiled faintly. He could picture Lily passionate about something like that, and Snape helping out grudgingly.

”So we applied to take the test at St Mungo’s the following winter, like you did, and she performed the incantation beautifully. She really wanted to be able to help people that way,” explained Snape. ”She put all her heart into it. But then she suffered a substantial amount of side effects and it was established that she was not a Grief Swallower, whereas I passed. This happened a few months after we had split up and she had already got together with James. I was vexed and jealous, but I still wanted to go to Med school with her and I suppose I had hopes of her coming back to me eventually. Potter usually consumed his girlfriends rather quickly you see... He and Black had a reputation of... But that wasn’t what I was going to say... You wouldn’t want to hear that… Lily was very disappointed at failing her test, and Potter and Black talked her into entering the Aurors program instead.”

Harry made a grimace.

”I was angry and frustrated with her for making such a choice. She was so suited for healing. It was what she really wanted, I’m sure of it. You heard Mrs Betty Steadfast this morning. Lily was not at her place among the Aurors. I tried to persuade her, pleaded with her, tried to reason with her... and got mad at her when she stubbornly refused to listen. She saw the failed test as a sign, somehow, that she shouldn’t become a healer.”

“She gave up her dream just because she wasn’t a Grief Swallower?” said Harry incredulous. “But less than one percent of the healers are Grief Swallowers!”

“I know, I tried to tell her that... Moreover, I suspect that she had started to listen to the rumours about the ambiguous reputation of Grief Swallowers. Maybe it suddenly didn’t appear as appealing as it once did when I explained the concept to her,” said Snape. ”We’re supposed to be desolate figures after all…”

”She listened to that kind of slander?” Harry exclaimed indignantly. Snape shook his head slowly.

”In some strange way,” he said thoughtfully, ”I felt more betrayed by this irrational decision of hers, than when we had split up earlier. I just wish now that I had borne it more calmly, that I had understood her feelings of humiliation and disappointment, and that I had supported her instead of getting mad at her. I could at least have remained her friend. There was so much time wasted on hurt feelings. And we didn’t have that time, because she wasn’t going to live... She wasn’t...” Snape passed a trembling hand over his forehead, shielding his eyes.

Harry stared at him. He only just realised what it cost Snape to tell him all this, and felt the regrets of Snape like a stab in the chest. He saw before his eyes how the disguised wizard in the Parisian night-club had raised his silver wand and directed it at Ginny instead of at him. There had been nothing he could do, and for one icing moment he had thought that the Avada was going to hit Ginny.

“I... I’ll talk to Ginny,” he said, subdued.

“Good, go ahead,” urged Snape without looking up, visibly making efforts to collect himself. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Harry went up to Hermione who looked at him inquiringly, but Harry did not say anything, only glanced at her with a contrite countenance. Hermione shook her head, but gripped Harry’s arm without a word and supported him when he limped over to the booth. Ginny sat on the stretcher with red-rimmed eyes. Ron had been speaking eagerly to her whereas Mr Weasley was talking to Healer Schufflert in a corner of the booth. Ginny raised her head and looked defiantly at Harry. He sat down by her side and took her hand in his.

“I love you, Ginny,” he said quietly. Relief and a streak of triumph passed over Ginny’s face as she turned to Healer Schufflert. 

“I want to do it now,” she said decisively.

 


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