Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

CH 2: Holding On
Harry found himself sitting at the edge of the Black Lake more often between the rebuild of Hogwarts the following day. By this point, most of the Great Hall and main courtyard were revived, and the teachers were off attempting to repair the corridors and entry points of the castle where much of the battle took place. There was still so much to do, and Harry barely had any time to recollect his thoughts, especially during the unexpected encounter with his former Potions teacher the evening before. He was a mess of emotions at this point – He had so many conflicting feelings, and yet he felt numb to the core. Almost like he knows he should be feeling something, but everything in his mind and heart feels so empty. Was that grief? Guilt? He knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, but he does. So many people lost their lives to protect him and keep him safe, through this entire ordeal and that bothered him endlessly. Teachers, Order, and students…died for him.

Him.

Clenching his jaw, he picked up a stone the size of his palm and flung it angrily into the lake. This fact cut into his soul like a knife. So much unnecessary death and violence. All because of one stupid prophecy. A prophecy overheard by someone he was supposed to put faith in, according to Dumbledore. A prophecy that resulted in the death of his parents. A prophecy that set everything in motion, because someone decided to eavesdrop -

Frustrated, Harry picked up another stone – larger this time – Stood up, and threw it more aggressively into the lake. He cursed out loud. Why are his thoughts reminding him of this? He knew he was meant to feel something, but he didn’t expect it to be rage. His heart began beating faster, and he struggled to calm his breath.

It was his fault. Why was he completely dismissing that? It was Snape’s fault he became orphaned. It was Snape’s fault he grew up without a loving family. Everything was his damn fault. So why did Harry suddenly forget all of that? Snape was his enemy from the moment he stepped into Hogwarts when he had no right to be. He didn’t have to treat Harry so poorly, and yet he did without question. That cannot be justified.

He was utterly torn between hating him and wanting to understand and empathise with him.

Getting more irritated by the minute, Harry decided to make his way back to Hogwarts to finally get himself cleaned up. Harry had been so consumed in the clean-up efforts – and with his own thoughts – that self-care was the last thing on his list of priorities. After he showered and put on a fresh set of clothes, he felt a little more human. He spent almost an hour in the shower, mainly just standing there staring off into space. A few times he cried – he didn’t care. No one was there to see him, and to his relief, not even Moaning Myrtle. The tears never really seemed to be enough to express what he was truly feeling.

Once he was done, he decided to make his way to the Headmaster’s office. He hadn’t been there since he looked into the Pensieve to view Snape’s memories, but once he arrived, he realised the place had looked exactly as he last remembered it, when Dumbledore was Headmaster. Nothing seemed out of place, strangely not even when Snape was Headmaster. Everything remained the same, well, except for the empty seat where Dumbledore should have been. Even Fawkes’ perch remained empty.

Harry made his way to the seat adjacent to the ornate gold Headmaster’s chair and sat there for a few minutes. He wasn’t really sure what compelled him to come here, but perhaps it was the familiar comforts this room gave him when Dumbledore was alive.

“Ah, Harry – my boy. I’m so pleased to finally see you again. “

Harry’s heart dropped immediately to his stomach and spun his head around to find the portrait of Albus Dumbledore smiling back at him. Returning the warm gesture, Harry rose up from his chair and joined the vicinity of the portrait on the wall behind him. He was completely caught off guard, and then mentally kicked himself. How could he have forgotten?

“Sir – “Harry’s eyes were wide with strange curiosity, and yet he remained speechless.

“You exceeded all of my expectations, Harry. I am immensely proud of you,“ Dumbledore leaned forward with his hands clasped together from his perch on his portrait chair, identical to the golden one within the office. His eyes were as cheerful as the familiar smile upon his aged face.

Harry lowered his head, undeserving of the compliment. He felt a little ashamed. “Uh, thanks, sir.”

Dumbledore’s smile faded a little, as he noticed wounded Harry’s demeanor. “You did remarkable things, Harry. After this traumatic period of time, it is not uncommon to feel guilt and despair. Lives were lost, but you saved many more. “

“I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to feel. I feel – “ Harry looked back at the old Headmaster.

“ – lost?”

“- Broken, actually.” Harry felt rather uncomfortable in admitting that. There was a short silence between them. A serene and peaceful silence.

“I see. You are wondering how you can move on from this?” Dumbledore’s voice was soft and soothing.

Harry nodded slowly.

A smile spread gently back on Albus Dumbledore’s features, “You are forgetting that you are human, Harry. War is eternal – we can never truly forget that, and the painful memories it brings. It will break us, but it can also reshape us. For better or worse. But you remain as you have been since the day I met you when you first began at Hogwarts. You have always been a guiding light for others in dark times, Harry. Despite the odds, you always had a knack for helping others. Everything you did leading up to this moment, was to save lives. You wonder what you must do now? Keep saving lives. Help rebuild them. Forge a better future in its example. Not just for yourself, but for those close to you. Even mend relationships. Fix what was broken. Just because the war is over, does not mean your life is.“

Harry frowned, trying to take in every single word said by his old mentor. He made sense – finally. But it was easier said than done. “I’ll try, sir. It’s difficult, but…I’ll try.”

“Be a light for others, and in turn, they will be a light for you.”

Harry smiled, a little too sadly than he intended. “Thanks. For everything.” Harry turned to leave, not wanting to stay any longer. He was relieved at the fact that Albus Dumbledore was here – in some form – as a way to ask for guidance when he next needed it. He was sure to return again, but for now, the old Headmaster was right. The battle is over, but he is alive. As defeated as he still feels, he needs to keep going. The ominous cloud that he senses over his head is bound to disappear eventually.

Be a light for others, and in turn, they will be a light for you.

Wandering back through the debris-ridden corridors, he passed several students still in their tattered school robes so full of dirt and blood, that he could barely make out what house they belonged to. Some students stayed to help clean up. Some students returned to take over in shifts once they parted with their families once more. Harry admired their courage to return. After all they’ve suffered through and witnessed, they were still compelled to return and help restore this ancient school. That little fact gave Harry hope. There was still so much good to be done.

He continued down the stairs, only to bump into Minerva McGonagall and Dean Thomas repairing some of the broken stonework in the shifting staircases. They both looked exhausted and worn down.

“Harry, mate,“ Dean finished with a Repairo spell on a hole in the wall, lowered his wand to acknowledge Harry, and turned to face him, “You alright?”

Harry nodded, “Hey Dean. Yeah, I’m fine. How are the others?”

“The DA? They are dealing. Seamus went home yesterday to see his family, but he should be back again in a few days. I haven’t seen Cho since the battle ended - She looked distraught, so I imagine she went home. Luna has been helping Professor Flitwick on the grounds, and I last saw Neville and Hannah Abbott helping Madam Pomfrey with the wounded. Everyone has been coming and going, so hard to keep track of everyone,“ Dean explained. “But they are determined to help.”

Harry smiled, “That’s really great to hear. Thank you, Dean. You and everyone else have been doing a great job. Take care, okay?”

Dean nodded, “Same to you, Harry.” He resumed his task as soon as he raised his wand.

“Potter. Harry, dear – May I speak with you?” Minerva McGonagall noticed Harry talking with Dean, but once they finished, she walked over to Harry and whisked him away to the corridor, with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Once they were away from earshot, she turned to face him, expression full of concern. She looked exhausted. “Harry, is there anything I can do for you? You don’t need to stay if you are not feeling up to it. Merlin’s beard, I can understand if you need time away. Molly suggested she’d look after you back at the Burrow – “

“I’m fine Professor, really. I need to stay. I can’t leave everyone,“ Harry responded quickly.

“Did you forget you’ve just defeated the darkest wizard of all time? We can manage here for now. Everyone has been incredibly helpful,“ McGonagall was taken aback by Harry’s decline in her offer, “You need to take a break. You need rest…”

“I’m not ready to leave just yet. I-I just can’t. Not yet,“ Harry was adamant.

McGonagall paused for a moment, and her eyes fixed upon Harry’s wary face, “I’m concerned for you, Harry. You’ve just endured quite an ordeal.”

“Yeah, so has everyone else.”

McGonagall’s face fell, and her expression was softened, almost sad. She gave Harry the weakest smile she could muster, “You are too modest for your own good. Well, if you need someone to talk to, I am still here as both your Head of House and Headmaster.”

Harry gave a small laugh, “Surely Hogwarts won’t be ready and running for a new school year.”

Minerva McGonagall returned the laugh, “If so, you still have another year to complete.”

“Honestly, Professor. I could do with a proper year off,“ Harry gave an exhausted grin, “Preferably not on the run again.”

Minerva reached out and rested her hand on Harry’s shoulder, and squeezed lightly. “Well, you would make a wonderful Professor if you did choose to return again in the near future. I will need a new Head of Gryffindor House, and a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Surely, that curse is lifted by now.” She laughed, but it quickly faded as she was sunken deep in thought.

Harry took this opportunity to ask, “…What are your thoughts on Snape?”

McGonagall’s face turned grim, “Honestly, Potter. I do not know what to think. No matter how I see it, he still betrayed us when he killed poor Albus. I realise that both of them had planned for this, but I feel quite…hurt - that neither of them confided in me about it, let alone the Order. I feel terrible that I did not foresee this. I have known them both for many years, and yet I felt left in the dark by the pair of them. I am simply heartbroken.“ McGonagall gave a wistful sigh, “I could have assisted if only I knew the truth.”

Harry nodded. She had a point, “I’m sorry, Professor. I guess that was the point of the deception. He had to abandon any allies he had left, in order to continue his role with Voldemort. We were both fooled. Everyone was. I’m sure he is still out there…Would you ever approach him if given the chance?”

McGonagall paused for a few moments. “I wish I could answer that bluntly. I’d like to think I’d stop to listen to reason, but there is a part of me that still adopts a level of distrust with him. At a moment's notice, I don’t know how I’d react. We were colleagues…friends, even. That kind of betrayal is difficult to forget when you’ve known someone for so long. I taught Severus here at Hogwarts, you know. I knew him ever since his first year. If Severus didn’t have an altercation with Lily all those years ago, his destiny would have been far different from the Dark path decided to take. She helped bring about the best in him.”

“I guess I would have ended down a similar path if the Sorting Hat put me in Slytherin,“ Harry mentioned, rather bitterly, “I would have been separated from Hermione and Ron, and influenced by the Malfoys. Especially at the time, I didn’t know that Voldemort’s soul was living inside of me.”

The Headmistress’ eyes widened in horror at the thought, “Good grief, that would have been disastrous! Well, Harry Potter, I am proud you ended up in Gryffindor - “There was a small crash behind them, and both Harry and McGonagall looked back to find Dean sprawled on the floor due to a jumbled spell. “Oh dear, Mr. Thomas! I must be off – Harry, please seek me out if you need me. For anything.”

“Thank you, Professor. I appreciate that,“ Harry said, just before the elderly woman dashed to Dean, who seemed unharmed, but highly amused at his spell blunder.

Harry was glad he encountered Dean and McGonagall. Friendly faces and the pleasant company were what he truly needed right now. Even though he wished everyone would stop coddling him like a child. It was beginning to get on his nerves, and although he knew their intentions were genuine, he didn’t want to feel like he was abandoning the school just to wallow in his feelings and emotions somewhere else. Though at times like these, he really missed Ron and Hermione and their company. He missed Hermione’s voice of reason and Ron’s sense of humor. He also missed being in Ginny’s embrace, and his heart ached for that soft love again. He realised he hadn’t seen her, since she left to grieve with her family over the death of Fred, the day the battle at Hogwarts ended. He considered sending them all letters, but some part of him felt like it would be inappropriate at a time like this.

Realising he hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before, Harry decided to wander down to the kitchens to find something to satisfy his hunger pains. Occasionally, he would stop during his journey down, to repair something, or move something back to its rightful place. He passed Filch the Caretaker at one point, shoveling debris, with Mrs. Norris, his cat companion, by his side. He looked at Harry, and for the first time ever, the man didn’t sneer or give a rude retort as he usually did with his students. Instead, he nodded in acknowledgment, and continued on his task, without a word.

On the way to the kitchens, he passed the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, but sitting beside the entryway was a hunched figure sitting on the floor against the wall, head buried in his hands with his wand clasped in his hand. Harry stopped in his tracks, and the startled figure looked up. The unmistaken platinum blonde hair, streaked with blood and dirt, was none other than his other nemesis.

Draco Malfoy.

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