Whatever It Takes by SanctuaryAngel

The night drew closer, finally signifying the end of the ill-fated Order meeting that occurred earlier that day. Snape barely revealed himself for the remainder of that evening, only showing up once to re-check the wards on the residence, and poke his head through the dining room door several times to make sure Harry Potter and his friends were still present.

Harry was constantly relaying the day's scenarios in his mind, trying desperately to convince himself that he said and done the right thing. He had an exceptionally good reason to be angry with his fellow classmates for their uncalled-for behavior. He spent enough of his fifth year receiving harsh accusations and taunts for his supposed claims on the return of Voldemort, sparking much controversy within that year. Many people didn't believe him, and they didn't hesitate to tell him that. They treated him as a liar, and that set Harry's blood boiling. But regardless, he couldn't bear to see anyone else be attacked with such murderous accusations, especially from things that many failed to hear or understand. He had already told everyone about the truth of Snape's allegiance, and yet so many people didn't want to believe it.

The Gryffindor was already well aware of Snape's worst memories – Especially during their final Occlumency lesson when he realized his father and his friends bullied Snape in their youth. Despite their complicated history, he will not allow that to happen again. Harry's feelings about Snape were extremely complicated, but he'd be damned to let anyone else be treated like that, especially in front of him. The thought of what the man must have endured on a personal level made Harry sick to his stomach. It was no wonder Snape took the dark path.

Harry couldn't help but think that it could have been his fate, too. The only difference is that he had good friends who defended and supported him. Snape, sadly, did not. Lily only was, to an extent. She kept him grounded until that fateful day. Did Harry forgive the man for all of his past transgressions? Definitely not. But he could understand his reasoning for those mistakes, and admittedly, Harry would have made the same mistakes had he not surrounded himself with good people.

During their downtime that day, Harry eventually asked Hermione to help him brew another antidote, as Snape quite obviously didn't want to even think about it. He couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed about how much the man didn't seem to care about his own life, and yet risk it even more so to save another. As if he is so willing to accept his fate so easily. There was something about the way Snape reacted to him volunteering to brew it, that bothered him. He still couldn't understand how a simple ingredient could be left out. Was it Snape's way of telling him that it wasn't going to work? Or was he surprised that Harry was willing to put in the effort to ensure that Snape survives? If there was any possibility of survival.

There just had to be one, right?

He was determined to make this work. He had to at least try. Snape obviously couldn't care less at this point, but he had to. Someone had to.

After Harry voiced his concerns to his friends, the four of them ventured back into the basement to begin work on brewing the antidote. As the group spent some time gathering and preparing the ingredients, Harry retrieved the spare Basilisk fang from his storage, ready to use. They immediately got to work talking among themselves, but Hermione seemed very unsure.

"Harry, you're not going to like what I'm going to say, but…I don't think this is going to work."

"Well, it has to. We know he left out that ingredient on purpose, " Harry exclaimed, hoping that Hermione was not about to convince him otherwise. But the more Harry looked upon the concerned face of his best friend, the more he felt like this was just a wild shot in the dark.

"That's stupid. Why on earth would he do that?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed, hesitating to tell his friends the sensitive information, "You know the state we found him in. He…he was prepared to let himself die."

"How do we know this antidote is going to actually cure him? Is it even going to work?" Ginny asked.

"I've been thinking about that since we found out, " Hermione turned to Harry, "Asphodel is a key ingredient, yes, but given Snape's condition…He was horribly bitten multiple times by Nagini. That snake was cursed with dark magic. A simple antidote likely won't cure it."

"We won't know until we try it, Hermione," Harry bit his lip, "Besides, this is no simple antidote. We used the Basilisk fang to destroy Horcrux'…Why won't this work? Nagini was a Horcrux."

"Perhaps that is specifically why it won't work. Because she was a living Horcrux, Snape wasn't. We are not using it on her but on the Professor. Also, don't forget that Voldemort enhanced her with additional magical protections. For all we know, he intended to curse her venom, so that any victim could not survive it no matter how hard they tried. He would have done anything within his limitations to make sure that snake was essentially invulnerable. I mean, he reanimated the dead, for goodness sake. What couldn't he do?"

"A supercharged Horcrux. Great, " Ron interjected, "Also don't forget, Voldemort struck him down before Nagini attacked. We know this because we saw it happen. That curse from the snake has probably halted his healing, for all we know."

Ginny shot them a look of distaste, "That sounds like a ghastly way to go. Besides, Harry, you told us that Dumbledore was already dying. How did that happen, exactly?"

Harry focused on the simmering cauldron in deep thought, throwing in the mint sprigs, trying to think back upon one of the memories that Snape gave him. Sifting through each memory from what he could recall, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the one which contained a conversation between Dumbledore and Snape. Oh, how he wished he had the Pensive with him. Eventually, he managed to recall that moment. The Gaunt ring. The blackened hand. Dumbledore's death sentence. Snape attempting to prolong his life. Harry's eyes opened again, and immediately; he felt the blood rush from his face.

Concerned, Hermione stepped closer to him, "Harry, what is it?"

With a bitter note, Harry slowly looked up at Hermione. He couldn't tell if his heart sped up, or simply stopped. His chest hurt with the rising dread within him, "The ring. The bloody Gaunt ring. It cursed Dumbledore. That was his death sentence."

Silence swept over the group, and Hermione let out a small gasp as she realised, "Oh – Oh no. Of course. He didn't know it was a Horcrux when he put it on. That makes perfect sense."

Harry nodded glumly, "Yeah. Even after the ring was destroyed, it still cursed him. It was going to kill him eventually, had he not asked Snape to do it for him," He ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair.

"Blimey, " Ron stood there, aghast. "So…Snape's doomed, then?"

"– Harry…" Hermione knew this was not going to work. And yet Harry tried to convince himself that it would.

"Look, let's just brew this and get it over with. It's better than doing nothing – If this will extend his life, then that's what we'll do. He deserves that much, " Harry averted their worried gazes, and focused his attention on the cauldron in front of him, trying his best to ignore the rising feeling of impending dread. His heart felt heavy.

Several hours later, the four Gryffindors had finished brewing the antidote, leaving eight vials of the freshly made teal-colored liquid sitting on the table. Without a word, Harry snatched up the vials and made his way upstairs to pay Professor Snape a visit. He made a detour into the kitchen and asked Kreacher to prepare some soup and sandwiches to take upstairs. He had never seen him eat anything, since the day he salvaged what he could from the kitchen at Hogwarts. His appetite was just as bad as his, it seems. Eventually, he found the ill-stricken man occupying the master bedroom on the second floor – The same room that Buckbeak used to inhabit when Sirius still lived there. Giving the door a few light knocks, he stood idly by waiting for an answer. He knocked a few more times, but still nothing.

Mustering up the courage, he opened the door slowly and shivered from a mild cool breeze that wafted through the room. Peering through the darkness of the room, he squinted to discover that the window was slightly ajar. The whistling of the wind howled against the windowpane. On the edge of the old four-poster bed, was Snape sitting up and clasping a cloth to his nose. The cloth, as Harry could see, was stained with fresh blood, and beads of sweat ran down the man's ghostly white face. He sat hunched over the edge of the bed, now absent of his dark purple dress coat in all but his white undershirt. Harry looked away briefly, to give the man some shred of decency.

Snape warily looked up at Harry entering the room, "Knocking would have been adequate, Potter."

"I did. You mustn't have heard me, and I…" Harry hesitated, and shook his head instead as he watched the man mop up the blood from his face, "It's getting worse, isn't it?"

Once Snape was done, he performed a cleaning spell on the cloth, removing all evidence of blood, along with the stains trailing down his shirt. He said nothing at this point, and all he could convey was a look of wary distaste as he pursed his lips. Harry didn't want to admit it, but he looked miserable.

Harry carefully set down the food package from the kitchen and began to line up the vials of the new antidote beside it, leaving one resting in his hand. Lifting it up, he extended it towards Snape as he sat down beside the Professor, "Here. And don't argue with me on that this time."

Snape frowned, as he observed the boy with all curiosity. Eyeing the vial in his hand, he gave a small sigh, "You are wasting your time." Despite that, he took the vial gently and began to observe its contents, scrutinizing every pristine drop; opening the cork top, and allowing his nose to linger over the scent. He tilted his head towards Harry, "Passable...but this will not work, Potter."

"But, how do you know if it will?" Harry's shoulders slumped over as he sighed, "Just try it. Please? It's better than nothing -"

"You misunderstand – "

"– No, I do understand. You led me to believe that this was going to fix it, right? I thought you were going to be honest with me?"

"I never said I wasn't. I never led you astray. Yet again, you are twisting my words."

Harry bit his lip, "Look, I get it. It's the Horcrux, isn't it? That's why your…condition…can't be cured. You knew, didn't you? That the antidote was unlikely to actually fix it?"

"I'm a dying man, Potter. It is not complicated."

"Actually, yes, it is. You'd gladly risk sentencing by the Ministry because you don't think you'll live long enough to make it through it. Is that it?"

Snape spoke softly, "The antidote will prolong my life, but not eradicate the curse running through my veins. I will only grow weaker as it progresses. That is my fate – to share the fate of the man that I murdered."

"It wasn't murder, and you know that," Harry scowled, feeling frustrated with the man, "If you're going to ask me to kill you, then you have another thing coming. Just take it. Take the antidote. Please."

Harry was pleading with all desperation, in hopes this man would not give up. He cannot give up yet – They've come so far already, and it seems the both of them were fated to help each other in the end. In no way was Harry going to allow this man to succumb to this so-called fate of his. Perhaps Harry was in denial that he was about to lose another person in his life – no matter who they were – but to Harry, this was more than just giving up on life. This was about a man giving up any possibility of a proper life, finally free of the previous constraints that ruled over him. Perhaps Snape was afraid to continue; not quite knowing where he stood in this new world. Perhaps Snape had convinced himself that there was no more happiness to be found. Perhaps Snape didn't realise what his second chance truly meant, as McGonagall had already explained that to him.

Maybe Snape believed that he was not worthy of that second chance and that his life meant nothing.

What more could Harry Potter do? How can you help a man who was once your enemy? Two unlikely souls now given such a renewed opportunity to be different than they were. To be better than they were. To make better choices. To learn to find any ounce of happiness that may be left, despite their losses. To learn to trust and have faith in another.

Perhaps they both longed for any sense of belonging or even family, but neither felt courageous enough to admit it.

As a strange, yet unusually comfortable silence befell them, slowly Severus Snape – deep in thought himself - re-opened the vial in his hands once more and drank the entirety of its contents in one go. Placing the cork back securely, he set the now-empty vial gently at his bedside. For several unwavering moments, Harry could see the worry etched in the aged creases of his face, which could barely be seen with the dull lamplight casting obscure shadows. If Snape weren't already staring at the empty vial, he could have sworn he even appeared…afraid. Snape's breaths began to gradually stabilize, and a tiny flush of color now appeared on his skin, causing him to appear less ghostly.

Digging into the pocket of his frayed jeans, Harry finally retrieved the tiny Resurrection Stone he had picked up from the forest floor earlier that week. He spent days holding onto it, not knowing what to do with it. But given this grim turn of events, it seemed obvious to him now. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he turned to Snape, "Do you know what this is?"

Signaling Snape's attention, the man turned to Harry's palm to observe the strange black crystal glistening against his skin. He raised his eyebrow, "What exactly am I looking at?"

"It's the Resurrection Stone. One of the Deathly Hallows. Did Dumbledore ever mention it?"

"Hmpf. He never spoke of it, " Snape paused in contemplation, "The Three Brothers…Correct? My mother used to tell of the Tales of Beedle the Bard in my youth, but I don't recall them. That was far too long ago."

"Well, the Elder Wand was one of the Hallows. Then the Invisibility Cloak. And lastly, this. It was more than just a story, Professor."

Snape looked sour, as realisation washed over his face, "…That blasted wand. Of course."

"The Resurrection Stone – Dumbledore gave this to me before I…well, died. In the Forest...By Voldemort. It can bring back someone temporarily who has passed -"

Snape's dark eyes grew wide, as he drew back "- Why would you show this to me?"

"I just thought, perhaps you wanted to use it? On one condition that you limit –"

Suddenly, Snape's face twisted into a snarl, "NO. Destroy it. Bury it. I do not want it in my sight!" He paused, then looked away sadly. "I refuse to meddle with such a thing. I understand very well the ramifications of that. You should, also."

"I saw my mum and dad that night with it, Snape. With Remus and Sirius. They helped me get through it. Maybe it can help you, too."

"My answer is still no."

"Why not? It might help – "

"So, your mother can be further disappointed by me? I think not."

Harry shook his head, "No, I don't believe she will."

"Potter, you fail to comprehend… " Snape cleared his throat, as he continued in his usual meticulous tone, "I'd feel – ashamed - to face her. I have no doubt in my mind, that she would not approve of me. She may even still hate me for all that I've done."

"No, she wouldn't. She would have never hated you, sir."

"Your persistence in your supposed understanding is undoubtedly annoying, Potter."

"Fine, " Harry closed the jewel frustratingly into his palm, and placed it back into his pocket, "I just thought it might help give you some…I dunno, closure? Reassurance? Just…let me know if you change your mind. Did Dumbledore ever tell you much about the Horcrux's?"

"I knew nothing of the Horcrux's – Albus only instructed me that the snake must be killed at the last moment. Presumably, he must have anticipated that the Dark Lord would attempt to extract those details from my mind. Approach Professor Dumbledore about it if you so desire."

"The portrait? I'd rather not."

Snape gave a light snort, "You and me both, Potter. I haven't faced the old fool yet."

"He kept a lot from the both of us. I don't blame you for being angry…He asked an impossible task of you."

Snape nodded, "Indeed he did. And yet he mercilessly left us both to deal with the aftermath. Astonishing, isn't it? Speaking of which, " The man slowly rose up from his perch on the bed and clasped his hands neatly behind him staring at the young Gryffindor with an impassive gaze, "Enough reminiscing and frustrations aside for the time being. Downstairs in twenty. Don't forget your Gryffindor entourage, Potter. We infiltrate my residence, tonight. Any objections?"

"Not at all, sir, " Harry shook his head and made his way to the door.

"Good. Don't be late."

"I won't be. Just make sure you show up this time, sir."

"Watch that cheek, Potter."

With a shadow of a smirk, Harry made his way downstairs to join others and round them up for the next mission, feeling unusually confident with himself. At least, he was able to get that antidote to him, much to the man's extreme disapproval. He did enjoy picking the man's brain, of which he was surprised Snape could reveal that much information to him, however. At least there were no more actual secrets this time, or a dark wizard to hide your mind from, or Death Eaters to fool. If anything, it all felt slightly surreal. Never did Harry think that this would have ever been possible. For the both of them. It was amazing how much they could discover about themselves when Snape wasn't the school bully, or Harry didn't try to fight against him. Harry was older and more mature now, and it seems he understood the notoriously broody Potions Master more and more, and yet it also seems as if Snape has grown to tolerate him after all. Finally.

It only took six school years, and Snape finally stopped seeing Harry as James. He often wondered what his father would think about this entire bizarre turn of events. Actually, he thought about that a lot. Would his father have been proud of him now? Or worried, that he has decided to seek camaraderie with the man he bullied relentlessly in school? He wanted those answers so desperately, but even he knew using the Resurrection Stone for such a thing, may not work as he hoped it would. Snape was right – did either of them want to know?

Perhaps some things are best kept secret, after all.

Harry stood in the entryway corridor of Grimmauld Place with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, waiting for Professor Snape to join them. It was like the Forest incident all over again. Hopefully, this time, it will end up without a fault.

"You sure he's going to show this time?" Ron shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, "If he bails on us again, then that's it, I'm going home."

As Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's remark, Snape chose that moment to glide down the staircase with his black billowing cloak trailing behind him, which always seemed to have a mind of its own. He always did have impeccable timing. The man stopped just beside Ron, with his arms crossed over his chest, peering at the Weasley – no longer down, as Ron was now identical in height - with his eyes narrowed and unnerving, like the feeling of sitting back in Potions class again, "Somewhere else you'd rather be, Mr. Weasley? Don't allow me to interrupt your busy schedule."

Ron shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable, "Well actually, sir…"

Snape sighed, as he eyed each of his unlikely team of lions with slight disdain, "Of all students to be anchored to, it's the big-headed, danger-seeking, rule-breaking ensemble of Gryffindors. Lucky me."

"Breaking the rules is kind of our specialty, though, " Harry couldn't help but grin.

"To be fair, this feels like you're marching us to detention in the Forbidden Forest, " Ginny smirked, "Nothing we haven't done before. So, where exactly are we going, sir?"

"Ah, how I miss deducting points from Gryffindor. Opportunity wasted, " Snape's expression remained deadpan; his voice resonating, "Now. Our mission is this – A few Death Eaters were spotted amongst my residence in Cokeworth, Spinners End. From my knowledge, Aurors were sent there to eradicate them, but they were outnumbered. We are to Apparate there and disarm them."

"Wait, you live there? We're going to your house?" Ron questioned, clearly not happy with the idea.

Snape turned his head to glare at him, "Problem, Mr. Weasley?"

"Err, no, sir."

"Good. Once we arrive, I would request that you have your wands at the ready. You will not press forward until you heed my signal. Furthermore, do not cast Lumos. Am I making myself clear?"

Harry nodded, "Perfectly, sir. We know the drill."

"As much as I strongly and personally detest, Side-Along Apparition is our best option, as you're not familiar with the location and where we shall begin. Ready? " Without waiting on verbal confirmation, the Potions professor made his way to the front doors, with the rest of them following closely behind.

It was rather late in the evening now that the moon had well and truly made its appearance. There wasn't much of a Spring breeze, but the clouds thickened overhead as the night progressed. They made their way to the small park across the tiny, private street, and the five of them concealed themselves beyond the thick hedges at the stone wall. Bitterly, Snape extended his left arm, allowing the four Gryffindors to latch on, mere seconds before they were whisked away among Snape's black, smoky Apparition. Reappearing immediately within a gloomy, dark alleyway, the students proceeded to follow suit and withdrew their wands at the same time as Snape.

Motioning them to remain quiet, Snape carefully edged his way down the narrow, cobblestone laneway, being careful to remain within the shadows obscured by the dull-lit windows above them. Besides the unlikely troop – Gryffindors led by a Slytherin – there was not another soul in sight on the streets. There were faint sounds of families in the adjourning houses, clanging on kitchen pots and pans in a bid to clean up after dinner, but Harry guessed this was mostly a Muggle dwelling.

Spinners End was indeed dull and dreary, and not exactly what Harry was expecting. The area itself seemed to adopt the same rows of identical dark brick houses, much like Little Whinging, but this place seemed to be of the much lower class. Harry looked around, observing what he could among the darkness, but as he squinted, he could see the faint outlines of industrial factories in the distance. A few lamps which lined the street appeared broken, and the ones that were lit, cast a haunting glow over the surrounding residences. Harry crinkled his nose slightly, as the gut-churning scent of sewage wafted from one of the small grates in the street.

Watching Ron's identical look of disgust, the redhead fumbled in his pocket to retrieve the jade and silver Deluminator. Snape watched in curiosity, as the boy clicked it once, allowing the dull balls of light to pull from the lamp posts, casting the street further into darkness. Harry heard an impressed hmm from Snape, as they walked further along. A few steps further, Snape extended his wand arm, barring the Gryffindors from walking further.

Snape's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, "Wait here. Stay alert." Harry and company stayed put as they watched the black-cloaked professor take a few cautious steps forward, with his wand held at the ready. Eventually, the man stopped inches from the end of the alleyway and raised his other hand as if to try and grab something in the air. The students watched in anticipation, as the man seemed to wave his hand at shoulder height, feeling for any traces of magic in the air. He was feeling for the warded barriers. Harry made a mental note to ask him about that later – The group could definitely do with an advanced lesson on warding.

Finally, Snape began to wave his wand with several precise flicks, whispering a set of incantations that neither of them could distinguish. Once a few moments have passed, the man signaled for them to follow. One by one, the Gryffindors followed the Professor and it was not until the moment they stepped through the magical threshold, did they gasp at what they saw before them.

Standing directly at what Harry presumed was Snape's front door, they watched as the entire residence was crackling with wild flames. It was not a sight that one could see beyond the wards as it was so very well-concealed with magic, but it was enough to induce panic for those that could see. It painfully reminded them of seeing the Burrow destroyed in balls of fire from the previous Death Eater attack. The only difference is that Harry had never stepped foot here before. From where they stood, they could see flames rise up against an invisible magical barrier that appeared to separate the house from the other residences, but the flames had just begun to scatter.

This house had not been burning for long, but the damage quickly tore through the building like paper set alight.

They watched as Snape threw the hem of his cloak over his nose and mouth, and immediately burst through the still in-tact ebony black door and raced inside the house now building up with smoke. "Fumus Evanesca!" Snape began to dissipate the rising thick cloud of smoke, enough so that they could see.

Harry followed the man inside, and turned to the burning furniture in the corner, "Aguamenti!" A thin jet stream of water doused the chair, extinguishing the flames he could see. He held his sleeve to his nose, trying not to inhale the fumes. His eyes burned as they watered. He heard a few of his friends coughing beside him, as they struggled much the same. Once Snape disappeared upstairs to deal with the damage there, Harry and his friends swept through the few rooms on the ground floor, trying their best to maneuver through the cramp quarters, dousing flames as they went.

"Oh no, the books!" Hermione sounded devastated, as she stood in the small sitting room, glancing upon all of the charred books sitting in piles on the floor, and remnants of them on the bookcase. The sitting room was free of flames, but the damage remained irreparable.

But just as Snape descended upon the stairs to join them, they were accompanied by four several silver-masked figures Apparating within the residence, wands were drawn out. Immediately, all wands were pointed directly at the opposition, as the tension suddenly ran high.

Death Eaters. They were waiting.

One of the Death Eaters, who they recognized as Macnair, stepped forward, "Well well well, Severus. Consorting with blood traitors and enemies – Gryffindors, no less. Can't say I'm surprised. You disgust me."

Snape gradually walked forward to position himself in front of the students, his wand pointed directly at Macnair, "Give up, Walden. Your master is gone. Dusted. It's over."

They heard a chuckle from the masked man beside Macnair, "It's not over until we are. Did the Dark Lord teach you nothing?"

"I cannot learn from someone who has lost their way. We were pawns. Expendable."

"You're no Saint, Severus. You're a murderer like the rest of us. We all bare the same glorious Mark. "

With narrowed eyes, Snape sneered, "Antonin. How was the Cruciatus Curse? I heard the Dark Lord was highly displeased by your incompetence the night the Minister fell," Snape gave a small smirk at the end.

Dolohov growled from under the mask, pointing a menacing finger at Hermione, "It was that Mudblood's fault!"

"HEY!" Ron stepped angrily forward, but Harry pulled him back.

"Defeated and mind altered by a teenager. Word gets around. My, I could only imagine what the Dark Lord said to you, " Snape looked amused.

"You're nothing but a miserable traitor!" One of the other Death Eaters spoke but was unidentifiable. "I'm glad he rightfully slit your throat! I wish I were there to see you bleed!"

Dolohov was rattling in anger, "You're bloody done for, Severus! We are going to destroy everything you pathetically worked for! We are going to make you regret turning from us." With a forceful flick of his wand, the floor at Snape's feet exploded, sending charred and splintered wood to hit the ceiling. Ron pulled Hermione back and threw themselves to the floor behind the burnt couch, firing curses back at the Death Eaters in return. Snape recoiled backward from the attack, barely steady on his feet, as Harry and Ginny pressed forward battling the others in an attempt to drive them away. Once Snape regained composure, he fought off Dolohov with finesse and the wild array of the mastery of spells at his disposal.

"Serpensortia!" Dolohov chuckled once he spoke, as a carpet python materialized from the tip of his wand and landed with a thud on the damaged floor by Harry and Snape. With that distraction, Harry fired a Reducto spell at the man, sending him flying out through the front door. He averted his gaze to the Potions Professor and watched as the man's face turned deathly white, noticing a slight quiver of his wand hand. His eyes grew wide in shock in the brief hesitation, and Harry threw himself between him and the snake, quickly realising he no longer speaks Parseltongue.

"Vipera evanesca!" Hermione shouted as she stood up, causing the snake to vanish. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

However, Dolohov, Macnair, and another masked Death Eater dashed out of the front door and Disapparated quickly away, as Severus Snape released the breath he held, and fixed his sleeve in agitation. Snape turned sharply to Harry, his face absolutely furious, "Do NOT do that again, Potter!"

Frowning, Harry lowered his wand arm, "You're welcome."

"Hey, we got one!" Ron called out from the entryway beside Ginny, both with their wands pointed at the remaining unconscious Death Eater sprawled out on the floor, "Another one down."

Hermione cast a non-verbal spell, as tendrils of vines were conjured and slowly wrapped around the Death Eater victim, preventing him from moving upon his waking. She turned to the others, "We'll summon the Aurors to collect him. Ron and I will stay here. "

Nodding curtly, Snaped turned to Harry once more, "Potter. With me. Now."

Worried, Harry followed Snape out of the heavily damaged house, with Ginny trailing closely behind him. Once they were outside of the wards beyond the alleyway, Snape immediately grabbed the front of Harry's shirt with a shaky but firm grip, staring at Harry with madness in his eyes. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand, and the three of them Disapparated and reappeared back at the park across from Grimmauld Place. Without a word, they went inside, slamming the door behind them and setting off the portrait of Mrs. Black again. Sensing an impending heated conversation, Ginny cautiously stepped back into the kitchen to see Kreacher.

"Follow me - " Seething, Snape motioned for the boy to follow him upstairs to the first-floor sitting room, closing the door behind him, allowing them both some measure of privacy.

"What – in Merlin's name – Were you thinking?!" Harry had never seen Snape this mad since the flying car incident in his second year, "I cannot have you senselessly throwing yourself in harm's way."

"You hesitated! What else was I going to do?"

Snape stood a few steps away from Harry, peering madly at the boy, "You stand back, that's what you do. You no longer have the gift of Parseltongue at your disposal. Incredibly reckless."

"Well, I forgot about that, alright? Besides, Hermione had it handled."

"And what if she didn't?"

"It's Hermione, Professor, " Throwing his hands up in defeat, he responded, "You freaked out. You hesitated..."

Snape thinned his lips, "Typical Gryffindor, you are. You could have been hurt. Or killed upon your distraction."

Once a few seconds clicked by, Harry watched as the Professor sat against the armrest of the couch, with his hands clasped neatly over his lap – he looked exhausted. He watched as Snape gingerly shifted his position and yet remained unmoving. The man appeared conflicted; his eyes wandering in deep thought as if he were wrestling with his own moral dilemma. The corner of his lip twitched, unsure of what he seemed to be holding back. Harry could see the man linger his gaze to scan the boy softly.

Eventually, he lowered his head, keeping a neutral demeanor, and lingered on his words methodically, before he sighed, "Potter – you need to listen to me very carefully. We must remain…professional. You are not to risk yourself for me again, understood? I remain here purely on Order business, and to ensure your safety. That is my priority," Snape paused, as he winced at the very words that could potentially crush Harry, "You seem to be seeking solace in the wrong person, and I cannot be the person you need. That must remain clear."

Harry frowned, not quite understanding what he was trying to say.

Awaiting no answer to that, Snape continued, "I am fully aware of what you are trying to do. We've made our truce, have we not?"

"We have, but – "

"And we are working together, are we not?"

"We are now, yeah – "

"Then, for now, that is…enough. "

Harry shook his head in confusion, "Surely you know that's not true. Stop pretending that you don't care. You obviously do, or you wouldn't be here."

Snape recoiled slightly at the statement, "It's not a term I can throw around on a whim, Potter. Those I did care for, died."

"But I get that, Professor, I do. I lost any measure of family that I cared for, and a lot of them died. I know what that feels like. But that doesn't mean I stop caring. You shouldn't either."

He watched as Snape fixated his gaze upon Harry's green eyes, as his voice barely dropped to a whisper, "You are so much like your mother, more than you realise. She would have assured me much the same. But even she had to draw the line somewhere."

"Then if you won't listen to me, then maybe listen to her. What would she think of you like this?" Harry drew in a deep breath.

Snape clenched his jaw, "Don't you dare use blackmail against me, Potter. Your precious Headmaster did the same."

"Is it so wrong that I…" Harry paused in thought, not quite knowing how to voice his concerns, "…Care - What happens to you? I didn't know how to say it before, but…yeah, I actually do give a damn."

"Yes, it's wrong! Because…" Snape averted his gaze away and withdrew like a wounded animal, as his shoulders slumped in a heavy defeat. "I cannot accept your forgiveness. Or your…kindness. I'm incapable of any measure of those things you hold so dear. Do not have pity on me, Potter! I will leave this world soon, and you do not need another blasted thing to worry about."

Harry's heart was burning in his chest as if everything were on fire. His eyes prickled with the tears that threatened to fall, but he tried with every ounce of agony to prevent the floodgates from breaking. Confusion tore through him; he didn't know what to feel because his entire mind was one big blurry mess. After everything they've both endured, Snape was still afraid to get close to him. In all but a few moments, Harry's hopes were crushed. During the last few weeks, he has gotten to know more about the man, than in the entire six years he has known him. He now felt comfortable in the man's presence, and the more they were able to convene, the more Harry realized that Luna and Hermione were right – They still had a lot in common.

But Snape seemed comfortable around him too, or at least more tolerable. With this in mind, Harry felt like maybe, it was possible, that they could reconnect in a different way. Similar to the kind of relationship Harry had with Remus and Sirius – But now that just seemed like wishful thinking. He believed that with all his might, that the possibility of such a relationship was there.

Within seconds, Snape crushed whatever hope Harry had for that to happen.

Harry looked directly at Snape, devastation, and hurt strongly evident on his face. He felt his chest rise and fall with every agonizing breath. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream.

Was it wrong to want something so simple? Who was he kidding – It was Severus bloody Snape. Of course, the man would try and be resistive to such displays of emotion. But the man seemed to forget that he, too, was also human.

After a deafening silence fell between them, Harry lowered his voice and spoke as softly as he could, "Showing you care isn't weakness, Snape. If anything, it makes you stronger. No one deserves to die alone, not even you, " With that, Harry turned to leave, slamming the door heavily behind him.

Harry raced up several flights of stairs, and entered his room on the fourth floor, slamming the door behind him. The moment the door closed, he allowed the tears to fall, clouding his vision as his body shook. Eventually wandering to his bed, he sat down and immediately buried his head in his hands, struggling to focus as every breath felt agonizing against his racing heart. How could he be so stupid to have wished for something more than a simple truce? Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Snape – another person he could not save, and another one to watch die before his eyes.

…All over again.

Harry's heart couldn't take much more of this. Just when things couldn't get any worse, they did.