Coming Back Home by CleganeSnape

“Alright, I will tell you.”

The spark of pride that crossed Snape's features, gave Harry strength to continue speaking.

“Okay... As I said before, we were in Hagrid's hut. Ron, Hermione and I.” He took a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. “Everything was going pretty well until Hagrid mentioned his brother. Well, half-brother. Whatever.” Harry shook his head, impatient. “Grawp. I don't know if you know him.”

“Yes, I know who he is.” Snape replied, not wanting to interrupt him.

“Okay...” The boy nodded. “The thing is, Grawp was injured during the Battle. Fortunately, he's almost recovered and, obviously, I'm very happy about that. The problem is... When I told Hagrid about it, he said that... that they were very lucky.” He closed his eyes, trying to keep his composure. “‘Luckier than most’, he said and... And then I... I...”

Harry's voice had begun to tremble and both Snape and himself had noticed it.

“Potter, take a deep breath.” The professor told him.

“I'm trying.”

His heart was racing, and he didn't like that.

“Don't focus on the emotions, just the facts.” Snape suggested. “Just tell me what happened, don't think about how it made you feel. It's just words and phrases. Nothing more. They can't hurt you if you don't let them.”

That made sense and Harry wanted to believe it was that easy to control himself. But he wasn't succeeding: his pulse kept increasing and his hands were shaking.

“I can't... I can't...”

“Potter.” Snape had leaned over from his gurney to grip his arm tightly. The effort was evident on his face, but so was the concern for the boy. “Look at me, Potter.”

Harry did as he was told. His green eyes met Snape's, and that made him feel better. It didn't quite calm his raging heartbeat, but at least he could hear something more than the pulse in his ears. He continued to breathe deeply, telling himself that he was okay, that he was safe. That they were both okay, that they were safe. Little by little, his hands stopped shaking.

“Words are just that.” He muttered, repeating what Snape had told him. “They can't hurt me if I don't let them.”

“That's right, Potter. That's right.”

As the seconds passed, he regained his composure. Though his body was still tense, bracing itself for whatever happened next.

“Potter?”

“I'm better.”

Snape watched him for a few moments. Then, slowly, he released his arm and lay back down on the pillows.

“I'm sorry about all this.” Harry said, seeing that the man had remained silent. “I'm sorry for making this scene and...”

“Potter.” Snape cut him off. “I knew what I was getting into when I told you to explain what had happened. It is clear to me that this will not be the last time something like this happens... I am aware of that, and while it gives me no pleasure to see you in this state, I have seen worse. A child's panic attack doesn't frighten or impress me. So, stop apologizing.

Harry didn't know whether to frown at the professor's tactlessness or be relieved. It was somehow comforting that Snape didn't treat him like he was made of glass.

“Okay,” he said after thinking for a few moments, “I won't say sorry anymore.”

Snape nodded approvingly, but seconds passed and he said nothing more. Instead, he remained silent, watching him.

“What?” Harry asked, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

Snape decided to ignore his lack of manners for once.

“I'm trying to find out if you're ready to continue talking.”

“And why don't you ask me directly, instead of just staring at me like I'm some kind of experiment?” Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry swallowed. “Sir.” He added, aware that he had crossed a line.

Snape narrowed his eyes but, to Harry's surprise, did not reply.

“Are you?” he asked instead. “Are you ready to continue?”

The answer was 'no', of course. Harry didn't want to keep talking. If it were up to him, he would never bring the subject up again. But Snape was being extremely patient with him and he felt, somehow, that he owed him the truth. So he took a deep breath, summoned all his courage and nodded.

“Well, go on then.” Snape indicated, waving his hand. “You were explaining what Hagrid said.”

Harry suppressed a grimace and nodded again. 'It's just words,' he repeated to himself.

“Yes.” He swallowed. “Hagrid said... He said they'd been luckier than most. And... And at that moment I... I thought about Fred.”

Snape tilted his head, indicating that he was doing a good job.

“Not just Fred.” The boy continued, taking strength from the gesture. “Remus and Tonks, too. All the people we've... we've lost, really. But especially the three of them. And... And it's been obvious that Ron and Hermione have been thinking about them too. You could feel it.”

“Good, Potter. You're doing well.” Snape was looking at him with those dark eyes, studying his face. “Go on. Tell me why you felt the need to run out of there. I imagine this isn't the first time you've talked about it between the three of you, so there must be something else. Was it because Hagrid was there too?”

Harry bit his lip, trying to keep control of himself.

“No.” He shook his head. “It's not that. The problem... The problem is that...”

He closed his mouth and swallowed, refusing to speak any further.

“Potter?”

“I... I... I can't...”

“Potter, just say it and be done with it.” Snape was beginning to lose his patience.

“It's not that simple.”

“Of course, it is. You have the words in your mind, Potter, I could read them without any difficulty if I wanted to.”

Harry seemed to suddenly remember that Snape was a master of Legilimency. He averted his eyes, preventing him from being able to get the truth through his gaze.

“Don't even think about it.” He said firmly, avoiding those black eyes.

“If I wanted to dig into your mind, Potter, I could do it with the greatest of ease and you wouldn't be able to stop me.” Snape said, his eyes narrowed. That had annoyed him. “You and I both know that you have never been exactly brilliant at hiding your thoughts.”

Anger began to throb in Harry's temples, wondering once again why on earth he had decided to talk to Snape about that.

“Maybe not, but that doesn't give you the right to force me to tell you-”

“Force you?” muttered Snape in a voice as cold as ice. “Force you?” he said again, causing Harry to flinch and turn to look at him again.

The boy knew how to recognize the disappointment on Snape's face perfectly. He had seen it a million times in Potions class when a student blew up a cauldron or ruined a potion. His expression usually showed resignation rather than surprise, showing that Snape didn't trust his students at all and expected such things to happen. At that moment, however, Snape's features showed restrained anger mixed with a different kind of disappointment than Harry was used to. One he had never seen on the man's thin face before. A mixture of anger and sadness at the same time.

“I didn't force you to do anything, Potter.” Snape continued. “It was you who was sitting here every day since I arrived in the infirmary, even when I was unconscious. It was you who insisted on maintaining a relationship of 'cordiality'. It was you who wanted to show me your memories and it was you who came here when you needed to talk about certain things. So don't tell me that I forced you to do anything, because all I did was give you my memories so that you would know the truth. That's all.

With each new sentence from Snape, a new, increasingly intense shade of red had appeared on Harry's cheeks. The man was right, it had been him who had sought to improve his relationship with Snape and, now that he stopped to think about it, perhaps that wasn't what the Potions master had wanted.

“I... You're right. And I understand if you don't want to be a part of this anymore. I've been stupid. I'll leave you alone, Professor.” Harry started to get up.

“What the...? Potter, for Merlin's sake, can you stop being so dramatic? You don't have to leave the room every time we have a bit of an argument.”

Harry looked up at him and sat back down, surprised. Snape's words had sounded different from what he was used to. The Professor's way of speaking was usually poetic and complicated. Nothing like that simple, matter-of-fact phrase. It had reminded Harry a little of Ron, but obviously he wasn't going to tell Snape that. So, instead, he nodded and said:

“Okay, sorry.”

Snape shook his head.

“Stop apologizing, too. I don't want that, Potter. I only intend for you to tell me what it is you're so worried about that you're not able to.”

Harry bit his lip.

“It's... It's hard.”

“Yes, I've noticed...” Snape said sarcastically, but without malice. Suddenly, he had an idea. “You may not like it, but... If you can't say it out loud, do you want me to use Legilimency?”

“No!” Harry said instantly. Realizing this, he forced himself to take a deep breath. “Thanks, but no.” He added trying to calm himself down. “I hate it when someone digs through my mind.”

Snape nodded, understanding perfectly.

“Alright. Then there's only one option left. Come on, Potter, it's getting late and I'm sure you have things to do.”

The sunlight streaming through the window was no longer as bright, and although there were still a couple of hours of sunshine left, Harry knew Snape was right. He couldn't delay it any longer.

“Alright.” He took a deep breath. “But... I don't want you... to think less of me.”

“Less of you? Why would I do that?” Harry shrugged. “Besides, you've never cared much about that from what I remember, Potter. I haven't had the best opinion of you over the years and you've been completely unbothered by it.”

“That's true...” ‘But things have changed’, Harry wanted to say, though he bit his tongue.

“Come on, Potter. What happened? Why did you run away from Hagrid's hut?”

“I...”

“What are you afraid of?”

‘Nothing’, he wanted to say, but after all he had talked to Snape about, he couldn't do it. The man deserved better. Harry took another deep breath, feeling like the words were about to escape his mouth.

“What is the problem?” Snape insisted, with the last shred of patience he had left. He could see Harry's face and how the hardness and tenacity had been draining from it. Now, all that remained was a desperate need to be heard and understood.

“The problem...” Harry finally muttered, “...is me.”

“Why?” Snape asked in surprise, using all the delicacy he was capable of.

“Because... I'm... I'm a coward.” He admitted in a whisper. So quietly that Snape almost thought he had imagined it.

“Potter?”

Harry didn't reply, but instead averted his gaze, embarrassed.

“Why would you say that?”

The boy swallowed, still not looking Snape in the eye.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Potter.”

“I said forget it.” Harry's heart was pounding and he could feel the embarrassment begin to tinge his face red again.

“I'm not going to forget it, Potter.” Snape said firmly. “Basically, because it's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard you say. And you've said a lot of stupid things over the years.”

Harry raised his head in surprise, stunned. Trying to make sense of Snape's words. They sounded like an insult, but there was something else amidst the sarcasm. He forced his eyes to meet the Professor's and saw something in them that startled him. A cold anger that reminded him of a night long ago when the sky showed the Dark Mark, Hagrid's hut was burning and Fang was barking in despair as Harry lay on the ground. ‘Don't call me a coward!’ Snape had said, looking at him with that anger on his features.

“Sir?” Harry said, somewhat confused.

“Potter.” Snape replied, gritting his teeth angrily. “You are one of the bravest people I have ever met, so don't even think about referring to yourself as a 'coward'. Do you understand me?”

Harry's brain stopped working for a few moments - had he heard correctly?

“Do you understand me?” Snape repeated, taking a deep breath.

Harry nodded, though a part of him wondered if he hadn't really died in the Forbidden Forest after all. That seemed more likely than Snape saying those words to him.

“Right.” Snape cleared his throat, suddenly a little uncomfortable. “I just wanted to make it clear...”

Harry nodded again. Feeling as if a Troll had hit him over the head with his stick.

“It... It was clear, sir.”

“I'm glad... And now, would you mind explaining to me why you said something so stupid? Why do you think you're a coward?” The word always left a bad taste in the Potions master's mouth.

“I...” Harry fiddled with his fingers, thinking quickly. He could try to lie to Snape, to avoid telling the truth, but he knew that, more than likely, he would notice. On the other hand, he could drag that conversation out even longer, delay the moment of his confession, but Snape wasn't going to give up and sooner or later he would end up telling him.

“Potter. I'm waiting.”

“Yes, I know. I'm sorry. It's just...”

“You don't know how to begin?” Snape sighed, wondering where he was getting all this patience from. Maybe, and just maybe, this boy traumatized by the war reminded him of himself. Just a little. “Let's recap for a moment. You were in Hagrid's hut, and he said he was luckier than most. That caused you and your friends to think about Fred and the others. This, while painful, is not out of the ordinary, is it?”

Harry nodded.

“Right, so the problem is that you need to get away from there because, quote, ‘you're a coward’.”

Harry nodded again, nervously.

“Why are you a coward, Potter? You've shown more bravery than most adult wizards I know. You sacrificed yourself to the Dark Lord, by Merlin! Why are you a coward?” Snape's voice had been filling with anger as he spoke and Harry could see a vein in his forehead throbbing.

“I don't know.”

“Potter.”

“I don't know!” Said the boy offering the last bit of resistance he had left.

“Why are you a coward, Potter?” Pressed Snape.

“I...”

“What are you afraid of?”

“The funeral!” Harry confessed, unable to take it anymore. “I'm scared of the funeral, okay? That's why I'm a coward.”

Snape narrowed his eyes, trying to understand.

“Fred's funeral.” Harry muttered. “It's just around the corner. We're waiting for a letter from Mrs. Weasley, but it shouldn't be more than a couple of days. And I... I can't. I can't go. Not his and not Remus and Tonks'. I can't because, if I go, then it will be true. It willl be true that they're dead and I-”

The sensation of shortness of breath in his chest was more than familiar to Harry by now, though he would never get used to it. His heart pounding, his hands shaking and the oxygen that never seemed to reach his lungs had become his faithful companions lately. And, at that moment, they had returned with a vengeance.

“Potter. Potter!”

Snape was calling to him from his gurney and had leaned over again to grab his arm, but Harry didn't seem to hear him.

“Dammit...” The professor muttered, beginning to worry.

Harry was still gasping for breath, shaking like a leaf and his eyes had begun to fill with tears.

“Potter!” Snape repeated, shaking him. “Look at me, Potter!” But Harry wasn’t replying.

Thinking quickly, the Potions Master reached over to the bedside table to pick up his wand.

“Expecto Patronum.” He said firmly, waving it.

Instantly, the silver doe appeared from Snape's wand, filling the room with her comforting presence. She trotted delicately to stand directly in front of Harry and then laid her head on his shoulder. Harry blinked as he felt the contact, warm and familiar, and brought a hand up to her neck in a sort of hug.

Patronuses were not solid, but being made of energy and pure magic, one could touch them and not pass through as one would a ghost. In that moment, Harry was incredibly grateful for it. He couldn't explain it, but the warmth of Snape's doe reminded him intensely of his mother and the love that had saved his life seventeen years ago, protecting him from Voldemort's curse. Her mere presence calmed him, and he was able to regain control of his body, slowing his heartbeat and being able to breathe freely again.

He had closed his eyes at the start of the hug, so he was not able to see all the emotions that had crossed Snape's normally inexpressive face. Relief, sadness, and joy all at once. And also the strange feeling that he was watching something very intimate and special. Yes, it was true that the Patronus had been conjured by him, but Lily's essence, all that she had been, covered the doe from the tip of her ears to her tail. The Patronus was filled with the soul of Lily Evans, with all the good that she had brought to Severus Snape's life. Her friendship, but also her smile, her cheek, and her bravery. The doe was mostly Lily and that embrace between mother and son belonged only to the two of them. And so, Snape waited patiently for Harry to be ready to separate a little from her and, after petting her once more, turned his attention back to him.

“Thank you.” The boy finally said, emotion in his eyes.

“Don't thank me, Potter.” Snape replied, trying to regain his composure and control of the situation. But a part of him was still moved by what he had just witnessed, perhaps because the doe was still there, reminding him of the friend he had lost. So, without intending to, he added, “It's what she would have wanted.”

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but he was glad that Snape had mentioned his mother without him having to ask about her.

Seconds passed, but neither said anything else, as the Patronus floated in front of Harry, transforming what might have been an awkward silence into a calm and placid one. Finally, Snape cleared his throat and said:

“Look, Potter... I... I don't know if I'm the best person for you to be having this conversation with. I'm not good at listening to people or helping them with their problems. By that I don't mean that I don't want to try.” He added as he saw the expression on Harry's face. “But I think it might be better if you went through this whole... uh... process with someone more qualified.”

“Qualified?” Harry repeated.

“Yes.”

“Someone like a St. Mungo's healer, you mean?” Harry's voice was calm, but Snape could sense the anger in it. “Someone who doesn't know what it's like to be tortured, to watch the people you love die, or that horrible fear when Voldemort seeks you out to kill you?”

“Potter...”

“I want to talk to you because you're the only one who can understand what I've been through. That level of terror when Voldemort wants you in particular, that responsibility when the weight of the war falls on your shoulders... Only you can understand.”

Snape swallowed, understanding, but said nothing. He wanted Harry to get all his thoughts out before answering.

“And yes. There's also Ron and Hermione, the other Weasleys, Andromeda Tonks... So many people who have lost loved ones and who could help me. But I can't ask them to deal with this on top of their own problems.”

Harry shook his head and then looked back at the doe; with her there it was easier to talk about such things.

“And, come to think of it,” he continued, “maybe it's not fair to ask you either...”

“You don’t need to concern yourself about that, Potter.” Snape said, reassuringly. “If I'm honest, I didn't have any plans in case I survived the war. I never thought I would still be here... So you're not interrupting anything.” He added sarcastically.

Harry frowned; he hadn't liked that at all.

“But that's not fair.” He repeated. “You of all people should be doing something that makes you happy; not standing here putting up with me. You deserve it. Especially after surviving two magical wars.”

Snape smiled with sarcasm.

“Ah, but that’s precisely the point, Potter. I have survived two magical wars, yes. But surviving is not living.” He said seriously. “This is what I meant when I said that I'm not the most qualified person to help you. My methods for dealing with the aftermath of a war are not...” Snape fell silent trying to find a suitable word. “They're not the best, one might say.”

“But...”

“You've seen my memories, Potter. You've known me for seven years. Do you think the boy I was at some point was anything like the man I am today?”

Harry took a few seconds to answer, trying to put his thoughts into words, but Snape identified that silence as an answer.

“Exactly.” Said the Potions master. “The War changes you. It did with me and it has done the same to you and your friends. But the most important thing is how you deal with that change.” Snape's voice sounded deep and heavy, bearing the weight of experience. “You said I survived two wars, but the truth is I'm still stuck in the first one.”

If the doe hadn't been there at the time, Snape was sure he would never have confessed all that. But her presence, coupled with the boy's green eyes, made him feel as if there was someone else in the room. Someone he had always been able to tell everything to.

“But that's not true.” Harry said suddenly. “Maybe you haven’t dealt with it in the best way, but it's not true that you are stuck. I've seen your memories. There is an evolution in you. I told you that yesterday, but I'll say it again. You went from being a Death Eater to caring about saving everyone. My mother may have been the starting point, but as time went on you became the bravest person I know. Everything you did over the years was to protect the magical world. I can't think of anything more noble.

Snape, who had become speechless, listening to Harry's word, wrinkled his nose at that last one.

“I am not noble, Potter. Everything I did was out of guilt. It was not a selfless act.”

Harry shook his head.

“Maybe not, but you have to start somewhere. Call it guilt or a sense of responsibility. The point is you did it. Not many people would have put up with everything that you did if they were in your position.”

Snape still looked disgusted. He didn't like flattery, especially when he clearly didn't deserve it.

“Enough, Potter. Stop saying things that aren't true. And” he added when he saw that Harry wanted to reply, “we're getting off the point. What's important here is that you understand that I'm not a role model, quite the opposite.”

“But...”

“But nothing. I'm not a nice man, Potter. I'm not a good person, or someone pleasant to hang out with or whatever it is people do with their friends. I'm a lonely, resentful man. And I'll stay that way until I die.” He assured. “As I said before, I'm not the most qualified to help you. I'll keep trying because, after all these years, I can't just look the other way. But it's important that you understand that you must not make the same mistakes I did. Alright?” He said, fatigue on his face. It had been many years since Snape had been so honest with another person and it was exhausting him.

“I...”

“I don't want you to end up like me. Promise me, Potter. You have to be better.”

The desperation on Snape's face told Harry that there was only one possible answer.

“I promise.” He said solemnly.

“Good.”

After that word, there was silence in the room and the doe began to move again, approaching Snape. The Potions Master petted her snout, as she watched him with those big black eyes, so similar to his own.

“I'm going to keep the charm active for as long as we talk about these things, okay?” Snape told him, still stroking the doe. “It's obviously helping.”

Harry nodded.

“Thank you.”

The professor lowered his head, accepting them. Then he cleared his throat and, slowly, asked:

“Shall we continue with the conversation, then?”

Harry took a deep breath, trying to control himself. The doe seemed to realize this, because she moved away from Snape and walked back to the boy, resting her head in Harry's hands.

“Okay, I think I'm ready.” He said, feeling the warmth in his fingers.

“Good.” Snape said. “You were telling me you were scared of Fred's funeral. His and everyone else's, right?

Harry nodded, swallowing.

“Yeah... That's what I said.”

“Alright.” Snape said, watching him intently, but unsure how to continue.

Harry was silent for a few seconds, keeping his attention on the doe. Then, still stroking its fur, he said:

“I suppose you want to know what's changed. Don't you, sir? I mean, it's not like it's the first time I've been to a funeral, is it? Fred, Remus and Tonks aren't the only people I've lost over the years. I should be used to it, shouldn't I?” Harry's voice was full of sadness and bitterness.

“You shouldn't be used to it. No matter how many people you lose, you never will be.” Snape said, very serious. “But it is true that I would like to understand what has changed.”

Harry sighed, trying to put into words what he was feeling. Though he was having a hard time understanding it too.

“The truth is, I'm not really sure why I'm reacting like this.” He confessed. “I think... Maybe, what's going on, is that whenever I've lost someone the threat of Voldemort was still there. So I could focus all my grief and anger on him, instead of thinking about what had happened.”

The Patronus was still in Harry's lap, his fingers moving through the animal's fur, but the boy's gaze was pinned somewhere on the wall, not fully aware of what he was doing.

“When Cedric died, I had a very hard time, it's true...” He continued. “But Voldemort had just returned, and I had to worry about that. And the year after that, when... When Sirius passed... I don't know, I never got to go to his funeral. There wasn't a body to bury, of course...” Harry spoke on autopilot, trying not to focus on emotions, just facts, just as Snape had taught him. “And then, that summer... It wasn't pleasant, I have to admit. But, somehow, my grief was sort of... sort of squashed. Hidden, more like. I tried not to think about him, about what had happened. And then Dumbledore had so much to teach me about Voldemort that I couldn't allow myself to be sad...”

Snape listened attentively, as Harry continued to speak. It was important for the boy to externalize his thoughts, perhaps then he could find out what was going on.

“And last year... When... when Dumbledore died...” Harry continued. “I'm sorry, but I focused all my anger on you.” He said, sending him a remorseful look.

“Yes, I assumed that, Potter. But I understand.”

Harry nodded, relieved.

“Good... Because that is what happened... I focused on the hatred I felt towards you and Voldemort, and the mission Dumbledore had given me...” Suddenly he inhaled sharply, realizing something. “There's a pattern, isn't there? Whenever I lost someone, I always did the same thing.”

Snape sighed, mentally exhausted.

“Yes, Potter, but it's the most common thing. Most people tend to do it. They hide in some corner of their mind what they don't want to think about and focus on what they can control. After the first war, after your mother... after your parents,” Snape corrected himself, “passed away... I did the same thing for a long time.”

Harry looked up, seeking that support, that understanding, that Snape was offering.

“But, sir, now that the war is over, now that there is no one to hate, no threat to fight... There is nothing left.” He said, realizing that reality. “There is no more anger, no more fear, no more work to do. There is nothing left.” He repeated, his eyes lowered. The doe was still in his lap, but Harry was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice. “There's only me left. Me and this... this sadness. This horrible emptiness.”

Snape tried to keep his face blank so it wouldn’t reflect that same pain he could see in Harry's features. He understood perfectly well what the boy was going through.

“And I think... I think I know why the thought of going to the funeral scares me so much...” Harry continued, with the terrible suspicion that he had found the explanation he had been looking for. “It's as if... As if everything I've been pushing down over the years is finally coming up. All those deaths - Cedric, Sirius and Dumbledore’s, even my parents’... And now the rest of them: Fred, Remus and Tonks. So when... when I go to the funeral...” His voice was trembling again, but Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on the doe's warmth and reassuring presence, drawing strength from it. “When it happens... It will be as if all those losses become true at the same time.”

That sentence made the hair on the back of Snape's neck stand up. Harry had just hit the nail on the head, he knew it, he could see it in the boy's face. For a few seconds he said nothing, he sat there watching him, trying to anticipate a change in the boy's face, a crack in the poise he was showing, but he couldn't find it. Despite that revelation, Harry was keeping his composure and Snape felt a flash of pride at the sight of it. Perhaps it was the Patronus in the room, or the relief at having finally discovered the reason for his fear, or probably the boy's mind was too exhausted to take it all in, but Harry was being able to control himself and that meant an improvement in the boy, an evolution. Even if it was only a small one.

“I think you're right, Potter.” Snape finally said. “It makes sense that, faced with a situation like a funeral, your mind would remind you of other painful moments. Especially when there are no longer any distractions present. The problem is that I don't... I'm not quite sure how to help in this case... But I want you to know that it's important to have identified the reason of your fear. And also the fact that you were able to tell me. I...” He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. “You've done a good job.” He said instead.

“Thank you, sir.” Harry replied, still upset by what he had just discovered, but grateful for those words. “Honestly, I don't know quite what to do either... But as you said, knowing what's going on is important.”

Snape nodded, as an idea formed in his mind.

“That's right, Potter... And that's precisely why you should talk to your friends about this. Before you protest,” He added, seeing that Harry wanted to retort, “I know you don't want to upset them or make them sad. But I don't care about that.” Snape said, sounding again like the harsh professor Harry remembered. “The important thing here is that you deal with this situation. And your friends can help you in ways that I cannot. So explain to them what's going on. They've probably already realized that there's something wrong with you; they're not complete idiots. At least Miss Granger isn't...” Snape muttered under his breath.

For once, Harry decided to ignore that comment. He had more important things to worry about.

“But...”

“But nothing, Potter. You know I'm right.”

He was. And Harry sighed, admitting defeat.

“Alright. I'll talk to them, okay?” He said finally. “But not now; I'm tired.”

Snape wanted to smile sarcastically but restrained himself in time.

“That makes two of us, Potter...” Between the injuries he was still recovering from, the draining conversations, and having kept the Patronus active for so long, Snape looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion.

Harry stared at him for a few moments, realizing this.

“Sorry, Professor. It’s my fault; I shouldn't have stayed here for so long.” He turned his wrist to check his watch and discovered that he had been in the infirmary longer than he had thought. “By Merlin, it really is late... I'm sorry, sir. I'll let you be.”

Snape held up a hand.

“Potter, do you remember me telling you to stop apologizing?”

Harry nodded.

“Well, then stop doing it. It was vitally important to have a conversation on this subject. And, even if we still don't know how to fix it, I think it's a step forward.”

“I think so too.” Agreed Harry. “I know it sounds weird to say, but I feel calmer than I did before. Talking about all this stuff with you helps me a lot. So... er, thank you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”

The gratitude in the boy's eyes was evident and Snape, who in other times would have rolled his eyes at such a display of sentimentality, could not help the warmth that flooded his chest.

“It has actually been easier than I would have thought a couple of days ago.” He admitted, with a genuine smile, before realizing what he was doing.

Harry smiled back almost immediately, glad to see his relationship with Snape was slowly improving.

“Anyway...” Snape continued, clearing his throat. “Since it's gotten so late and we're both tired, I suppose we'd better conclude this talk here, don't you think?”

Harry nodded. His head was starting to ache after all those emotions and his bed in the Gryffindor Common Room was calling to him more and more. With those thoughts in mind, he gathered up his belongings and stroked the doe once more, before making his way to the door.

“Thank you again for everything, sir.” He said as he reached it. He had turned to look at Snape, who was currently waving his wand, making the Patronus disappear. Harry instantly felt the warmth of the room diminish considerably.

“You're welcome, Potter...” Snape said, placing the wand back on the small table. “Now go have some dinner and then go to sleep, all right? And talk to your friends.”

Harry nodded.

“I will, I promise. Have a good rest, Professor. I'll come see you tomorrow.” He assured him, with a small smile. He was glad to know that his daily visits to the infirmary had become part of his routine.

Snape merely bowed his head, accepting that fact. He knew that, at that point, he could not run away from Potter and his incessant chatter. So, he remained there, laying on his bed, watching Harry as he closed the door behind him.

His mind went back to the boy, and the improvement that their relationship had experienced during the last two days. It was incredible how quickly things could change. And even though he would never admit it, at the thought of Harry, a twinkle appeared in Snape's dark eyes that would have made Albus Dumbledore jealous.