Title: Revealing Truth
Author: unbroken_halo
Team: Phoenix
Genre(s): Postwar
Prompt(s): Sleeplessness, time capsule
Rating: R
Warning/Kinks: *Spoilers for DH/ wanking*
Word Count: ~14,968 without DH quotes/ ~15,179 with DH quotes
Summary: "The search for truth is more precious than its possession." By Albert Einstein
A/N: Text between * taken directly from Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, American Edition pages 682-683. Thank you to Team Phoenix for their support, brainstorming and encouragement. You are a brilliant group of people and I am better for having been allowed to work with you all. Many more thank yous to leela_cat, irana and sevs_lil_secret for the betas.

Revealing Truth

Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt and his team of Aurors arrived on the grounds of Hogwarts and looked around at the destruction.

"Spread out. Search the grounds and into Hogsmeade. I want all persons, living and deceased, found and brought back here for debriefing and inspection before being transferred to the Ministry."

Shacklebolt split the Aurors into two teams, Williamson heading up the Hogsmeade search team, and Savage to lead the second team on to the Hogwarts grounds with him.

Williamson nodded and turned his team along the worn path toward the town, and then they disappeared with a collective pop.

Shacklebolt took a deep breath and started for the large wooden doors of the castle, stopping when they opened on their own. He drew his wand and the Aurors gathered around him forming a guard.

Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway and gave him a tight smile. "Minister Shacklebolt, we've been expecting you."

"Professor McGonagall."

"Call your Aurors together, Minister, we believe we've everyone inside. Mister Potter would like to speak with you."

Shacklebolt arched an eyebrow then turned and sent sparks from his wand toward Hogsmeade. He focused his attention on McGonagall again and nodded. "After you, Professor."

*Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, "Are you intending to let him kill you?"

"Certainly not. You must kill me."

There was a long silence broken only by an odd clicking noise. Fawkes the phoenix was gnawing on a bit of cuttlebone.

"Would you like me to do it now?" asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. "Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight." He indicated his withered hand, "we can be sure that it will happen within a year."

"If you don't mind dying," said Snape roughly, "why not let Draco do it?"

"That boy's soul is not yet so damaged," said Dumbledore. "I would not have it ripped apart on my account."

"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"

"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation," said Dumbledore. "I ask this one great favour of you, Severus, because death is coming for me..."

His tone was light but his blue eyes pierced Snape. At last Snape gave another curt nod. Dumbledore seemed satisfied.

"Thank you Severus..." *

Shacklebolt pulled himself out of the pensieve, shaking his head in disbelief and running a hand over his face. He cleared his throat and looked at Harry.

Harry met his eyes. "Interesting, isn't it?"

Kingsley snorted then took a deep breath and waved his wand toward the door. Two men entered and Harry eyed them.

"Harry, Aurors Savage and Williamson are going to be joining us for the rest of the meeting. My apologies for the formality, but I assure you it's in both of our best interests to have an objective account of what is to take place next."

Harry took a deep breath. "I understand."

Savage handed Kingsley a phial then took a seat to the side of the table where the pensieve rested. He eyed the pensieve suspiciously then nodded at Shacklebolt.

Williamson sat down at the desk, pulled out a sheet of parchment then set a quill on the vellum and tapped it with his wand. The feather jumped upright, quivering slightly as it hovered. He looked up and said "Continue, Minister."

Kingsley turned, pointing his own wand at the quill. "Debriefing of Harry James Potter. May 1998. Present are Potter, Harry James; Auror Savage, David; Auror Williamson, Richard; Minister Shacklebolt, Kingsley."

Kingsley watched as the quill quickly copied down what he said then looked at Harry again. "Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be." Harry swallowed, opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.

"Dosing the subject, H.J. Potter." Kingsley administered three drops of potion and watched as the young man's face went slack and his gaze unfocused.

Shacklebolt pulled a chair out and sat down in front of Harry taking a deep breath and got ready to question him. He disliked the fact that Harry had insisted on the Veritaserum but recognized the need for it. As Minister of Magic, he needed to know what had gone on while the young man had been away from Hogwarts. He put all thoughts of the other two men out of his mind and focused entirely on Harry.

"Can you hear me, Harry?" Kingsley asked softly.

Harry's eyelids flickered, "Yes," he muttered.

"I would like you to tell me," Kingsley said quietly, "how Dumbledore set you on the path to destroy Voldemort. When do you think your training began?"

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath, and began to speak in a flat expressionless voice.

"My first year at Hogwarts. Ron, Hermione and I rescued the Philosopher's Stone from Professor Quirrell and Voldemort. Professor Dumbledore wouldn't tell me why Voldemort wanted to kill me then..."

Kingsley listened to Harry's story much as he had watched it in the pensieve; horrified that Dumbledore had allowed the boy to do such things. Once it was over and Harry was slumped in his chair with exhaustion, Kingsley gave him the antidote. He sent for a tea tray and offered everyone refreshments.

They ate and drank in silence for several minutes while Kingsley studied the young man before him. He, himself, had only just joined the Order when Voldemort had risen the second time but had heard stories of James Potter through Sirius Black. And Harry was nothing like the man except for his appearance. Deciding he liked how Harry had grown up, he made his decision right then and there.

With the recent events and all the memories he'd seen, Kingsley was more than willing to begin the changes necessary to ensure the continuity of their way of life. Attitudes needed to be changed to prevent a war like this from happening again.

They had quite a job to do, rebuilding their world, and he needed all the help he could get. With Harry Potter at his back, changes could be made and for the better of all involved. Only he'd go at it a bit differently than Scrimgeour had done.

"Thank you for allowing me the privilege of viewing those memories, Harry. I understand how much courage it took for you to come forward with them." Kingsley's slow, deep voice was soft when he finally broke the silence.

Harry blinked and cleared his throat, nodding as he set his teacup down on the saucer. "Thank you, sir, for taking the time to listen to me."

Kingsley inclined his head. "After all you've done for the Wizarding world; it would be inconsiderate of me to dismiss you."

Harry frowned. "I wasn't the only one involved, sir. Ron and Hermione helped me. The Order of Phoenix members did as well." He stopped and took a deep breath, "Snape too," he added quietly and a bit reluctantly.

Kingsley licked his lips, watching Harry as he thought for a moment. "So I saw. However, painting Snape as a hero to the Wizarding public at large is not going to be accepted."

Harry squirmed in his seat under Kingsley's gaze. "I don't like the git anymore than I did before but he did help..." he trailed off and sighed. "And he saved my life. I owe him a life debt."

Williamson looked up from copy of the transcript he was validating, staring at Potter and then at Shacklebolt. Saying nothing, he returned to the parchment, waiting to check the next sound recorded for posterity.

Kingsley arched an eyebrow. "So this is why you brought me the memories? To assuage yourself of the life debt?"

Harry cringed slightly but nodded. "I'm ready to move on and I can't do it with this hanging over me."

Kingsley nodded. "And what is it you'd like to move forward to?"

Harry looked up, meeting Kingsley's eyes. "Once Hogwarts is rebuilt and open again, I'd like to go back and get my N.E.W.T.s. I would like to be an Auror, sir."

Kingsley smiled, his teeth very white against his dark skin. "I believe I can help you with that, Harry."

Williamson narrowed his eyes, once again staring at Potter then picked up the transcripts. Savage collected the pensieve as Kingsley and Potter finished their conversation and stood.

Ron stared at Harry as he and Hermione levitated more tumbled stones out of the way. "He didn't!"

Harry grinned and nodded, waiting on Hermione's signal to begin mortaring the bricks back into place. "He did. Offered both of us a place in the Corps without even having to take our N.E.W.T.s."

Hermione huffed and shook her head, flicking her wand angrily at the wall. "I don't think that's fair. There are people who work very hard to pass those requirements to get into the Auror Corps and Minister Shacklebolt is just bypassing the regulations."

"But Hermione..." Ron began but trailed off when she shot him a look.

Harry glanced down at the floor. "He offered you a place as well, Hermione. And it's not like we didn't earn it. We just qualified in a different way." He bit his lip and swished his wand at the wall. "Life and practical experience is the way he put it, I believe."

Hermione stared at him then shrieked and threw her arms around Harry, squeezing him tightly. Harry grunted and patted Hermione's hair gently, looking over at Ron and rolling his eyes.

"Oi! Get your own girl, and I don't mean my sister, you prat!" Ron growled good-naturedly.

Harry grinned at Ron and wrapped his arms around Hermione for a moment then let her go as she turned and slapped at Ron's shoulder. Ron pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her neck. Harry flushed as he watched them.

Ron sighed as Hermione settled against his chest then turned to look at him. "Thank you, Harry, but I've decided to come back and finish my schooling then go on to Uni." She looked up at Ron then back at Harry. "After all the funerals, of course."

"You will be at Fred's funeral tomorrow, right?" Ron asked softly. "I mean, are you accepting Shacklebolt's offer immediately?" Hermione gasped then covered her mouth as she stared at Harry.

Harry was silent for a moment. "There's still so much more that needs to be done. There's Hogwarts, and the trials of those who have to answer for standing in Voldemort's stead." He cleared his throat and looked away. "I've already accepted Kingsley's offer," he murmured softly, "because it's what I'm good at."

He shook his head and faced them once more, a determined expression on his face. "But I'll be at the funeral. All of them."

Hermione removed her hand from her mouth and shook her head. "Harry...it isn't up to you to do this alone any longer," she whispered quietly.

Harry opened his mouth but Ron interrupted him. "He's not going to either." He ignored Hermione as she clutched his robes and tugged on them. Reaching out, he offered Harry his hand. "Partners?"

Harry grinned and clasped his hand. "Partners."

Hermione's eyes went wide as she looked up at Ron. "Ron! What about your promise to George? It's too dangerous after what we just went through." She looked at Harry. "No offence, Harry, but what will Ginny say?"

"It's none of Ginny's business what Harry decides to do," Ron answered. "Besides, George will understand and I can always work with him after."

Harry shrugged as he let go of Ron's hand and stepped back from them, Hermione's protests reaching new decibels as Ron tried to talk her down.

Leaving them to it, Harry turned toward Gryffindor Tower, his thoughts a mad jumble about Kingsley's offer, Ginny and all the decisions he'd made in such a short time. The destruction about him was slowly beginning to clear and it amazed him to watch, especially when it had seemed so bad just a few days ago.

The staircases were sluggish as if the magic to move them was too much of an effort for the old castle to manage but Harry eventually made his way to the Fat Lady's Portrait and entered Gryffindor Tower.

The common room was quiet and that of itself was unusual to him but it didn't bother Harry as much as he thought it would. Hogwarts was home. Despite the destruction and calamity that had gone on in her hallowed halls, he was more comfortable here than just about anywhere else. At the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, both, would be after him to see how he was doing and right now, the solitude suited him just fine.

Running a hand through his hair, Harry sat down in one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of the fireplace and stared into the flames. He stretched out and sighed, trying not to think about the things Kingsley had asked him and what he'd recalled today. In a cocoon of silence, he closed his eyes, glad that a very select few people were staying in the Tower right now. He saw the events again like flashbacks, rapidly playing across his mind and he sat detached from them as they happened, like an uninterested observer. He wondered if it was a side effect from the Veritaserum then shook his head and opened his eyes as he realized that all of the flashbacks involved Snape.

He rubbed his face and sighed. At the time, he'd not felt guilty about Snape but more stunned to see the man who had betrayed Dumbledore be murdered by his supposed Lord. Snape, of all people, should have known how volatile Voldemort could be, however the sheer look of horror and shock on Snape's face when Nagini attacked had made Harry pause.

Harry'd not understood what made him go to Snape that night and still didn't, but something had drawn him to the man. Perhaps it had been the notation that Dumbledore had been right, that he should trust Snape. When Hermione had given him the flask, he'd taken the memories without thought or hesitation.

A pang of longing and grief sliced through him, as he realized he could not run up to Dumbledore's office and apologize to the grand old wizard for not trusting in him. Telling his portrait wouldn't be the same. Besides, they'd said what needed to be said at King's Crossing and trying to apologize to Snape would be an exercise in futility. Nothing he could say to Snape would ever make restitution for the wrongs committed; only his actions could speak for him now.

Harry shook his head and pushed all thoughts of Snape out of his mind. He stood, stretched and trudged up to his room to pack his truck for tomorrow. He would be staying at the Burrow for a few days and despite the tragic circumstances, he hoped to put on a better front and show his appreciation towards the Weasleys.

Pushing open the door to the Seventh Year dorm, Harry found Kreacher finishing up his packing. He smiled weakly, still surprised to find the ancient elf caring for him and flung himself down on the bed to wait for Ron and Hermione. "Thanks, Kreacher," he murmured as he lifted his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.

Kreacher beamed at him and bowed several times before closing Harry's trunk. "Master Harry's trunk is finished. Is there something else Kreacher can do for Master Harry?"

Harry adjusted his glasses and shook his head. "Um... no thanks, Kreacher. I'm just tired now."

Kreacher nodded and snapped his fingers, disappearing with a soft pop.

Harry shook his head and pulled his glasses off, setting them to the side and closed his eyes to rest until it was time to Portkey to the Burrow with the others.

Snape's dark eyes bored into his own, wide and horrified. His blood coursed down his throat and soaked into his robes as his fingers flailed uselessly at the wounds.

"Potter... Potter. Listen..." Snape called to him and Harry just stared at him, watching the light fade from his eyes as the blood pumped from his veins.

Snape stilled and Harry reached out, closing the lifeless eyes as Snape's hand finally stilled and thudded to the floor of the Shack. Harry ran his fingers over the cooling flesh and sat back on his haunches, staring at the man who had been so horrid to him in life.

Snape's eyes suddenly snapped open and he snarled, reaching out for Harry's throat with gore streaked hands.

"Potter!"

"Harry!"

Panting harshly, Harry sat up suddenly, arms flailing wildly. "What?!"

Neville stood back, hands raised. "Harry... you were having a nightmare... moaning and thrashing about. Are... are you all right?"

Harry ran a hand over his face and nodded as he reached out for his glasses. "Yeah, Neville, thanks. 'M fine."

Neville stared at him, and then shook his head. "Yeah, all right then. Um... Ron and Hermione are waiting for you downstairs."

Harry looked around to find the sun had moved across the room. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, shaking his head and the dream away as he scooted to the edge of the bed. "Right. Thanks again, Neville."

Neville eyed Harry once more then nodded and padded back over to his bed. "Anytime, Harry."

Harry lumbered down the stairs, flushing slightly as he cleared his throat and smiling at Ron and Hermione as they stepped apart. Ron left his arm wrapped around Hermione's waist and Hermione held out a hand to him, welcoming him into their embrace for the ride to The Burrow with the Portkey.

The sombre occasion was brightened by the small child in his arms, but Harry knew that the joy the little boy brought would be short lived. Teddy's colourful hair and personality couldn't overcome the sorrow that emanated from the Burrow and the Weasleys in general and he knew it would only be transferred to himself tomorrow as they attended the Lupins' funeral.

Hermione ran her hand over Teddy's back and smiled at the small child, giggling softly as he gnawed on the stuffed phoenix toy. It sang merrily when he pulled on its tail feathers and he gurgled happily, his hair changing hues with the tones of the tune. "He's amazing, isn't he?"

Harry hummed. "He looks like Lupin, but he's got Tonks's personality." He adjusted the child in his arms and glanced around, searching for Andromeda. "I still can't believe Remus asked me to be his godfather."

Hermione smiled at Teddy then met Harry's eyes. "He had faith in you, Harry. He had faith in all of us, didn't he?"

Harry shrugged and wrestled with Teddy, trying to pull the toy from his mouth. "I sent him back and now he's still not here to tend to his baby. How do I tell Teddy that it's my fault?" Giving up on taking the damp toy from Teddy, Harry looked up at her.

Teddy squealed happily and continued to chew on the phoenix.

Hermione frowned. "You're wrong, Harry. It's not your fault that they aren't here. Tonks and Lupin would have wanted you to tell Teddy that they fought for him. So he could have had a better life now. We all will have a better life because they, and you, fought and did what had to be done."

Harry scowled at her. "Yes, another boy can grow up to be a lost one just like Riddle, Snape and I. Turn out to be a bitter and spoiled child because he's no parents around and it'll be all his godfather's fault."

Hermione shook her head. "Harry... you are changing that even as we speak. I know what you are doing about Snape. I can't say I like it but I understand it. You are changing the pattern and so Teddy's got the entire future ahead of him. You've to show him that even though his parents are gone, there was a good reason for their deaths. That there are still those in this world who care for him and won't let him turn out... Oh!"

She trailed off, her eyes going distant for a moment.

"What?"

Hermione turned to Harry again and reached out, stroking Teddy's purple hair back from his face. "The reason. We can't let this war be remembered for just being about the purity of one's blood, because it was more than that. We've to remind people of that."

She smiled down at Teddy and then looked up at Harry. "I know how we can do it. We need a monument, one not controlled by the Ministry, to remind everyone just exactly what was gained by fighting this war."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Destruction of a way of life and families by the dozens?"

Hermione glared at him. "No, you prat. War is senseless, yes, but, in the end, if you don't learn something and change history then you are doomed to repeat it. Harry... you are changing history by being there for Teddy. Now let's change the outcome for everyone else."

Harry eyed her for a moment. "Is this like the house-elf thing, cause you know I'm kinda glad with Kreacher being nice now. He's happy."

Hermione's eyes widened and she growled at him. "Harry... if it weren't for that child in your arms, I'd hex you."

Harry took a step back from her, tightening his grip on Teddy. "What'd I do?"

Teddy squealed and beat Harry about the head with the toy phoenix. The Phoenix song rang out then warbled to a halt as Harry grabbed the toy and tucked it under his arm.

Teddy's eyes watered and his mouth curved into a pout, his lips trembling threateningly.

Harry eyed the boy. "Oh no, don't you dare."

Hermione shook her head and pulled the toy away from Harry then gave it back to Teddy, halting the upcoming tantrum. She smiled at Teddy then returned her attention to Harry.

"A grand gesture, Harry," Hermione gritted out between her teeth, still smiling so as not to upset Teddy again. "Like you are doing for Snape, except for the Wizarding World at large."

Harry thought about that for a moment while he bounced Teddy and eyed both Hermione and the child. "All right, but only if you make certain Snape's involved too. He helped." His voice was chirpy and happy as he caught on to what Hermione was doing.

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"Whatever you do, Snape's got to be painted in a good light as well."

"You want me to help you sell Severus Snape?"

Harry nodded. "You are going to make some kind of monument to this war. For the good, right?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, something along those lines. I was thinking a visual time capsule, only we don't bury it..."

Harry hitched Teddy up in his arms, holding up a hand to forestall her explanation then grinned. Teddy pulled on the phoenix's tail again and the song rang out once more. The baby bounced along to it in Harry's arms.

"Snape goes in this time capsule too then. Something good and appropriate that shows he was on our side all along." Harry narrowed his eyes at Hermione, trying to hold on to Teddy as he danced with the toy. "Are you going to tell me that Harry Potter's word and endorsement on this wasn't part of the deal?"

Hermione flushed and shook her head. "You know I wouldn't ask anything like that of you, Harry."

Harry snorted. "I'll do it... if you help me make Snape look good. Kingsley told me I'd have to come up with a way on my own if I wanted to get his portrait in the Headmaster's office. This will work."

Hermione gawked at him. "How... how do you know it will work?"

Harry grinned and danced a bit with Teddy and the phoenix, holding on tightly to the child in his arms. "I'm Harry Potter, how can it fail?" he answered brightly.

Teddy waved the phoenix over their heads and squealed in agreement.

Harry ran through the grounds, stopping just before the Whomping Willow and reaching out to touch the knot that would halt the tree's thrashing. He hurried, crashing head long into the tunnel, panic and fear filling him because he'd left Snape out there. Snape, who'd given him the means to carry on, was still lying on the floor of the Shack because he'd told no one where the body was.

Oh, he'd declared Snape's intentions for all to hear, Voldemort especially but that hadn't quelled the panic, or the fear that someone or something, seeking revenge for their Dark Lord's demise would seek out the ultimate traitor.

Pushing through the trapdoor, Harry stared around the empty Shack, the panic rising up in him once more. Snape's body was gone! The imprint was still there along with the congealed blood.

He crawled over to the puddle and mewled softly, wondering what had become of Snape, guilt washing over him like a wave. Reaching out he pressed his fingers to the blood, only to have them come away bright red.

"Potter."

Harry looked up and scrambled away from Snape standing over him, the man's ghostly form wavering slightly as he followed Harry's progress across the floor.

Snape reached out for him, his hand coalescing into the former potion stained, long fingered claw from class, clasping onto his shoulder and squeezing.

"Remember!"

"Ahh!" Harry shot up in bed, only to bump foreheads with Ginny, her hand clutching his shoulder. They both groaned and separated, hands pressed to their foreheads.

Ginny stared at him, eyes wide with surprise and concern. "Harry... are you all right? I heard you calling out all the way in the hall."

"I... I'm fine." Harry eyed her and ran a hand over his face, then reached out for his glasses on the side table by the bed. "What are you doing up here though, Gin?"

Ginny flushed and shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed, when Harry moved his feet out of the way. "Well, I was on my way to the loo but then I heard you and thought I'd see if you were well." She looked over at him and flushed again, reaching out to take his hand. "You don't look like you are doing all that fine, you know."

Harry twined his fingers with Ginny's and smiled at her. "Just a bad dream, but you need to go on back to your room before your mum finds us." He flushed even as he pulled his hand away from hers. "And I am fine, just tired, which I could remedy if someone would let me go back to sleep. Do you know you sound like your mum?"

Ginny sighed, rolled her eyes and shook her head. "So noble, Harry. I think that's why I love you."

Harry stared at her. "Ginny..."

"No, Harry, don't say anything." Ginny leaned closer to him and softly pressed her mouth to his.

Harry groaned and kissed her gently. Then, he pushed her away, leaning back against the headboard and staring at her again. "Ginny..."

She pressed two fingers over his mouth. "Don't. I don't want to hear how things are different now and that we still can't be together because there are things you still need to do. I know and so I made plans too." She smiled sadly at him and traced his lips carefully.

Harry swallowed hard and cut his eyes toward the door of the room just waiting on Ron or one of Ginny's other brothers to burst in, demanding to know what he was doing with their little sister.

"Harry... no one is going to come in and disturb us."

Harry looked at her again, eyes wide. "Ginny..."

"No, I understand. You have to do this and I understand. Hermione and I talked and she told me what you're going to do. I'm going back to Hogwarts after it reopens and in the mean time, I want to play Quidditch. I spoke to Victor Krum and he thinks he can get me an interview with the Holyhead Harpies." Ginny continued to trace Harry's mouth as she spoke quietly, not looking him in the eye.

Harry arched an eyebrow and opened his mouth, jealousy and relief flooding him. He forgot all about her interrupting him and his questions about how she knew no one would disturb them, for this new bit of information. "He did, did he?"

Ginny looked up and smiled, her face flushing with colour and pleasure at him. "Don't get any 'Ron' ideas in your head. He's just helping a fellow player out." She made a face. "Like this thing of yours with Snape."

Harry blinked and pulled away from her. "Pardon?"

"Hermione told me all about the 'time capsule' and your insistence on Snape being involved." Ginny's face hardened. "Let me tell you something, Harry, I know you think Snape was a misunderstood hero in all this but you weren't there last year. And to be honest, I'd just as soon forget about him and let the evil git be buried day after tomorrow, never to darken our lives again."

Harry bristled at her words and narrowed his eyes. He cleared his throat trying to remember that Ginny didn't know about the pensieve memories and what he'd seen of Snape's life. "Just a minute, Ginny. I may not have been there at Hogwarts but I spoke to Neville. Snape was always a bastard to the both of us, but Neville also told me what the Carrows were doing to the students. However, there are always two sides to a story and I've only recently learned that." He stopped to consider his words carefully as he watched her face pink.

Taking a deep breath, Harry continued, leaning forward to drive his point home. "Didn't your mum and dad take you out of Hogwarts? For your own safety? I was never gladder to hear that you had left and when you came back into the Room of Requirement that night, I was so angry at you for endangering yourself. You were the one beautiful thing I had left that was safe."

Ginny sucked in a breath, her eyes blazing with anger suddenly. "Harry Potter! Are you telling me that just because I am supposed to be your girlfriend that I wasn't allowed to fight? What about Hermione? She's a girl and you let her come along!"

Harry shook his head at her, sighing heavily and reclined against the headboard. He spread his hands in defeat. "No, you are missing the point. I don't want to fight with you, Ginny. I never wanted any of you there with me. At that point, I'd already lost too many of my friends and I didn't want to lose anymore. I just wanted to finish things quickly with as little loss as possible."

Taking a deep breath he looked up into her pretty face, searching it for a moment before continuing. "What happened later that evening, when Snape died... well, I did too. It changed a lot of things for me. If you can't understand that I need to do this for Snape, for myself, then I'll understand." He bit his lip and met her sloe brown eyes. "This is something I have to do, Ginny. I owe it to Severus Snape."

Harry knew he looked bad, and he stuck his tongue out at his reflection. The mirror snorted at him and advised him to go back to bed. He snorted back and walked out of the loo. He'd been sleeping less and less and the circles under his eyes were testament to that fact. Snape plagued his dreams every time he tried to rest, and something had to be done. Perhaps a sleeping potion for tonight after the funeral? Knowing he couldn't ask Mrs. Weasley for one without an interrogation, he padded down the stairs to Ginny's room and knocked on the door, hoping Hermione would answer.

Hermione stuck her head out of the door. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath, looked back inside then stepped out, closing the door softly behind her. "Harry, you look terrible. What's happened?"

Harry looked at her and frowned. "Thanks for noticing. Nothing's happened I'm just really tired."

Hermione looked sceptical and crossed her arms over her chest. "Ginny told me you had a nightmare the other night. Was it about You-Know-Who?"

Harry sighed. "It was nothing. Just a bad dream. Can't you just brew me a Sleeping Draught for tonight so I can get some rest?"

"Really, Harry, a potion isn't the answer. You should talk to someone about this."

Harry groaned. "Never mind, Hermione. I need to finish getting ready to go. I'll see you later."

"Harry ... wait!"

Harry waved her off and went back to his room to continue dressing for the funeral. He had too much to do and didn't need her lecturing him about sleeping, dreams or the time capsule again.

He'd not even had a chance to even look for anything to add to Hermione's time capsule for himself or Snape. Everything Ron and the others had presented seemed like such significant pieces that embodied the spirit of themselves and the cause. It tore at him to see George add several of the first pranks he and Fred had created, but the smile on George's face more than made up for it.

Andromeda had even given him something for Ted, Tonks and Remus as well after the Lupin's funeral yesterday afternoon. Hermione had been overjoyed when he'd passed the items over and she'd added the Preserving Charms, giving him a stern look as if to emphasize the importance of his own contribution.

The time capsule was coming together brilliantly under Hermione's talented hand. She had set up in the parlour at The Burrow, for the moment. Each item was tagged with a charmed piece of parchment explaining the item and its contributor. The most impressive though, Harry thought, was Fred and George's pranks. The pranks were in magically sealed cases and every few minutes the tricks set themselves off. The cycle would then rewind and start over. He'd sat for hours in the parlour just watching the pranks and looking over the items, lost in his memories.

It had been very late when Harry'd gone to bed that night and the dream of Snape came back to him. He thought of the dream once more, wondering if maybe he'd not been possessed by Snape's soul when Voldemort had killed him. Were Horcruxes recyclable and had he been made into one again by accident?

Harry shook off the thought and sighed. He knew what the problem was and it was guilt. Although why he had feelings of guilt when Snape had been such a bastard to him continued to boggle his sleep-deprived mind, Harry had to do something about it soon.

Grabbing his cloak, Harry moved to the parlour to meet the Auror who was going to Portkey with him to Snape's funeral.

Ginny was waiting on him and he gave her a strained smile. Since their conversation two nights ago, there had been a tension between them that was tangible to anyone that came near the two of them. It made him a bit sick to his stomach and also a bit relieved as well. He couldn't explain why that was and wasn't inclined to dwell on it much either. However, he'd made certain to cast wards on his door to prevent any more late night visits from anyone.

He eyed her tidy, sombre robes and arched a brow. "Ginny, you look very nice," he offered politely.

Ginny beamed at him. "Thank you, Harry." She bit her lip and looked demurely away from him for a moment then met his eyes once more.

"I thought I would go with you. I mean... if you don't mind." Ginny looked up at him and blinked slowly. "I can't say as I understand why you have to do this, Harry, but I do care for you and would like to be with you as much as possible while we can."

Harry let out the breath he'd been holding and nodded, relieved beyond measure for some reason. He really didn't like to be at odds with his friends and he did consider Ginny one of his friends. That thought chilled him to his bones immediately and he looked at her with wide eyes when she toed up to kiss him.

The sound of someone clearing their throat echoed loudly in the room.

Harry jerked his head and turned to look at the newcomer. A man grinned at him and Harry felt his face colour.

"My apologies, Mister Potter, but I need a moment of your time."

Harry shook his head, "Oh... err... right. Thanks. Auror Williamson, wasn't it?" He gestured to Ginny. "This is Ginny Weasley, my... um..."

"Glad to see you remember." Williamson nodded, walking over to the two young people, still smiling. "Miss Weasley," he nodded in Ginny's direction.

"Congratulations on your appointment to the Harpies. Jones made a right proper decision there. Good luck."

Ginny flushed from his praise and smiled at Harry, leaning against him as Williamson eyed the two of them.

Harry stared at the man for a moment, wondering how he'd known of Ginny's appointment when he himself had not even heard of the final decision, then shook off that thought as he realized he was dealing with a Ministry official. They had ways of knowing these things. He returned his attention to Williamson, trying not to be distracted by Ginny's presence.

"Mister Potter, Minister Shacklebolt has placed some extra precautions around the funeral site in order to discourage... some of the less than desirable reactions from the public. The venue has already been changed twice due to threats against deceased. Your statements the night of the battle and the testimony to the Wizengamot went a long way toward tempering the reactions but some people still recall what a bastard Snape was. This hasn't been an easy undertaking."

Harry blinked, taken aback by the man's straight forward statements. He cleared his throat, eyeing Williamson for a moment before speaking. "I realize that, Auror Williamson and I appreciate all that Kingsley has done so far. Snape deserves the laurels though." Harry met Williamson's eyes. "Snape may have made the wrong decisions but they were for the right reasons and Albus Dumbledore trusted him implicitly. This was a war, if anyone cares to recall, we all did things we aren't proud of, myself included. Actions speak louder than words and Snape was shouting the entire time, albeit subtly."

Williamson studied Potter for a few moments, and then continued as if Harry had not even spoken. "Snape had no living relatives and left no will that we've been able to find in his vault at Gringotts, his abandoned quarters at Hogwarts, or on his property of Spinner's End. Snape will be entombed, and the building warded against vandals, so his body will be protected in the future. There is a team of Aurors waiting to prevent any mishaps that may occur during the funeral also. At this time, Mister Potter, that is the best Minister Shacklebolt can offer you as to your request on the overseeing of the funeral arrangements."

Harry nodded slowly, taking in all the man had said. He looked up at Williamson and smiled. "That's more than I ever asked for, Auror Williamson, thank you."

Williamson retrieved a time piece from his robe pocket and clucked his teeth. He drew out a folded newspaper and held it out to the two young people. "We will be late if we don't hurry, but thank you for allowing me the liberty to explain the situation."

Harry grasped the newspaper firmly, swallowing hard. He hated Portkeys. Ginny squeezed his other hand and he looked down at her. She toed up and whispered in his ear.

"I was going to tell you about my appointment, but he beat me to it. Perhaps we can celebrate after the funeral." He stared at her when she smiled, thinking about what she had said. Then damn it she kissed his cheek just as the tug on his navel jerked them away to the expected destination.

There had been no one but Aurors at Snape's funeral when Harry and Ginny first arrived. Harry took the opportunity to walk up to the small tomb and peered around then slipped inside.

Snape lay out on the stone tomb slab, still and lifeless, and Harry swallowed hard as he approached him. Aside from being dead, Snape looked good, well, as good as he'd ever looked, Harry supposed. Snape's skin was still sallow and his hair had been shampooed at some point, and his robes were neatly pressed for his funeral. Harry was pleased over all with the arrangements. Williamson hadn't lied when he'd said Kingsley had done his best for Snape.

All in all, Snape looked better than he himself did and that was saying something. Snape appeared as if he were sleeping, resting comfortably and Harry stared at him as if he were waiting for Snape to breathe, to sit up or any of the other things that the man had done in the nightmares he'd been having lately.

Snape never moved and Harry let go of the breath he was holding. He ran his eyes over the body, studying Snape, now that he was certain the monster wasn't going to rise up and attack him. He narrowed his eyes and wondered if perhaps now that he'd seen the man off, if maybe he'd get some relief from his nightly visits. A small pang of regret at that thought seared through him and Harry shook it off. He was here to pay his respects and that was that but he couldn't help the feeling of curiosity that welled up inside of him the longer he stayed next to Snape.

Looking around to make certain he was still alone, Harry then peered down at the flesh on Snape's neck; the two puncture marks where Nagini had bitten him were still open although no blood seeped forth from them.

Leaning closer, Harry adjusted his glasses and reached out to touch the bite marks. Snape's skin was cool to the touch and it gave gently as he pressed against it. Harry jerked his fingers away, blinking and waiting for the blood to appear.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Harry startled and drew his wand, jumping away from Snape's body to look up at the person who asked the question.

Williamson stood at the door, his wand trained on Harry and eyes narrowed. "Oh, Mister Potter, my apologies." he lowered his wand slightly and nodded. "Don't touch the deceased again. The wards, you know."

Harry pulled a face but nodded, tucking away his wand as Ginny appeared at the doorway. She gave him an odd look but didn't enter, gesturing for him to come out. "Come on, Harry, you've been in there for a long time. It's about to start."

Harry looked down at Snape again, reaching down to adjust the man's robes just to be certain he'd not disturbed them any. He jerked his hand away again, remembering the admonishment then shook his head. He gave Snape a final searching gaze then bowed his head to the man. "Sir," he murmured softly and walked out of the tomb.

Snape's eyes seemed to bore into him even though he knew it wasn't possible. The tomb doors closed with a resounding thud, shaking the ground gently. Harry shuddered and was once again reminded of the last time he saw Snape alive. The man's black eyes stared up at him pleading, almost begging him to understand and compelling him to take what was on offer before it was too late.

He knewthiswas a dream as he watched himself stand abruptly and jostle the chairs beside him, hand outstretched toward the tomb.

"No! He's not dead!"

Ginny pulled him back into his chair, glaring at him and shaking her head.

Harry moaned the entreaty again out loud as he tumbled from the bed, his teeth clacking together as he hit the floor hard, jolting himself awake. Running a hand over his face, he sighed and climbed back up, reaching for his wand and his glasses, before lighting his wand. Merlin, he was glad he'd choose an empty dorm room when he'd returned.

He glanced at the tangled bedclothes, flicking his wand to straighten and dry them before settling down again. He knew there would be no more sleep for him again that night. The same nightmare had been plaguing him since they had laid Snape to rest just a few days ago.

Harry sighed again, rolled over, and punched the pillow as he tried to get comfortable. He cast a Tempus spell and closed his eyes when he realized breakfast was still hours away.

Groaning softly, he tossed back the blankets, pushed his glasses up from his face and rubbed his eyes wearily. He adjusted his specs, climbed out of bed and Summoned his robe, padding from the room to make his way to the loo.

He'd left the Burrow after Snape's funeral and his birthday. Ginny's insistence that they spend more and more time together had gotten on his nerves and despite the fact that Ron and Hermione, or he should now say RonandHermione as they were practically attached at the lips all the time, and spent every waking moment together, he needed time alone to think. Didn't everyone? And Ginny didn't seem to understand that. Perhaps it was for the best that she'd left to go to Quidditch training after he'd returned to Hogwarts.

He began to wonder if something was wrong with him. Shouldn't every eighteen year old red-blooded male want to have a beautiful young woman hanging on his arm? Maybe it was her attitude that was putting him off. He groaned as his prick jumped in response and guessed not as he pushed his way into the prefect's bathroom.

Tossing his robe over the pedestal, Harry made his way over to the large sunken bath and spun the taps. He stripped off his pyjamas, set his glasses on his clothing and slid down into the water, sighing as he ducked under the surface and letting the warmth penetrate his skin.

Rising from the depths, Harry sat on the ledge of the bath and leaned back against the cool marble, hissing softly at the contrast as he closed his eyes and soaked for a moment. Sighing, Harry relaxed and summoned his wand to shut off the taps to the bath, the waves from the water lulling him to sleep for a few moments. His body jerked awake and he opened his eyes, leaning over and splashing his face with the water.

He grabbed a flannel and dunked it in the water then lathered it with some foam from another tap, lazily scrubbing his chest as he thought about the things he needed to do today. Harry yawned as he moved the flannel over his abdomen, his fingers absently washing over his stomach and below the water level. He slid down into the bath some more, spreading his legs as he gripped his prick, grunting softly. He closed his eyes again, let go of the flannel and stroked himself.

Yeah, that was it, something to ease the tension away, forget about his problems, work to be done and Ginny. He bit his lip, spread his legs and reached down with his other hand, cupping his sac as he moved his fist over his prick faster. He arched his back, canting his hips forward.

A small moan escaped his lips and Harry hissed as the friction began to burn along his skin. Flashes of long hair and pale skin danced in his mind, a soft mouth grazed along his lips, caresses slipped along his body, all nondescript but equally erotic images that fed his fantasy as he worked his cock.

Panting harshly, Harry threw his head back, his balls drawing up as one face drew closer to his own in his mind's eye, the features becoming clearer as his orgasm built low in his abdomen. He groaned, moving his hand even faster along his prick.

Black, fathomless eyes bored into his and Snape appeared suddenly, sitting beside him. He smirked and leaned in slightly, pressing his mouth to Harry's.

"Oh, Gods," Harry moaned; the sensation of the kiss almost real in his imagination. Hot semen spilled over his fingers and Harry screamed, opening his eyes and jerking his hand away from his cock, scrambling out of the bath and looking around the room in shock.

Harry grabbed a towel and rubbed his face then howled at the top of his lungs, in disbelief. He had not just wanked to a fantasy of Snape! He wrapped the towel around his waist and grabbed his wand, draining the bath. He scowled as he watched the water flow down the drain removing the evidence.

Stomping over to the sink, he stared at his reflection. A pale image of himself looked back at him and Harry sucked in a breath as he leaned in closer, examining himself. Dark purple circles stood out under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken in, only the flush of his recent activity had given him any colour. His eyes were bloodshot; the green irises pale and even his scar, which had only recently began to fade, looked as if it too was void of colour. What in Merlin's name was wrong with him?

Turning on the taps, Harry splashed cold water on his face and looked into the mirror once again. The drops ran down his face but the image didn't change. He swallowed hard and moaned softly, closing his eyes but the picture was burned on to his retina. He looked awful. The dreams, the guilt and the life debt hanging over him had to be responsible for his appearance.

Slamming his fist onto the sink, he growled. No more. Today he'd end this madness and find something anything to go into Hermione's bloody time capsule and get Snape out of his head. First stop, after dressing, would be the Headmistress' office.

Harry paused before the gargoyle statue and took a deep breath, the ugly stone gargoyle smiling at him creepily as it waited for the password. He muttered the words Professor McGonagall had given him upon his return, then rode the staircase up to the shiny wooden door. Grasping the griffin knocker, he rapped three times on the door.

McGonagall's sharp, tense brogue bade him to enter and Harry plastered a smile on his face as he pushed open the door.

McGonagall gestured for Harry to take a seat, not raising her head up from the papers she was reading. She finally looked up, took in his sallow appearance then gasped. Standing, she weaved around the desk and laid a hand upon his shoulder, pulling him up from the chair. "Mister Potter! What in Merlin's name have you been doing? Take yourself to the Infirmary straightaway and see Madam Pomfrey."

Harry blinked several times and pulled away from her. "Professor... I'm fine... a little tired, but fine nonetheless." He crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to scowl at her. "I need to speak with you about something, if I may."

Taken aback, McGonagall sucked in another breath, cleared her throat then glanced up at the portraits of the Headmasters and Headmistresses of the past and Harry followed her gaze, only to take a shocked breath of his own.

There on the wall next to Professor Dumbledore was a portrait of Professor Snape. Snape was sitting in an armchair, and he appeared to be sleeping with his arms crossed over his chest, his head bent at a slight angle, black robes dull and lifeless.

Professor Dumbledore was staring at the portrait sadly and shaking his head. He turned and looked at Harry, a mournful expression upon his face. "Hello, Harry."

Harry nodded at Professor Dumbledore too shocked to speak.

"When... when did it appear?" Harry inquired, direction his attention to McGonagall.

McGonagall pursed her lips then took her seat, gesturing for Harry to sit again. "The day after the funeral. He's not moved at all though."

Harry settled himself in the squishy chair and glanced at Dumbledore. The former headmaster eyed Snape's portrait then faced Harry and nodded.

"There's something not quite right about Severus's portrait, Harry," Dumbledore murmured softly and walked over to the edge of his frame, reaching out to touch Snape's. He drew his fingers back slowly and shook his head again. "It just might be Severus's stubbornness but this old man would be grateful to speak with a trusted friend once again."

Harry hummed at Dumbledore and then regarded McGonagall once again.

McGonagall rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. "I know it was your doing that put him upon the wall, Mr. Potter, and I'm certain that you must have had your reasons as Albus has tried to explain." She held up her hand when Harry opened his mouth to answer.

"However, Severus did abandon his post here and I, for one, feel that the atrocities that he allowed to happen under his tenure should cause him to forfeit any benefits he was entitled to as Headmaster. You obviously have Minister Shacklebolt's ear as you did Albus's and it is no longer my place to guide you."

Harry sighed and nodded. "I understand, Professor." He paused to consider his words and then spoke again. "Snape's story is a long one, Professor and one not entirely mine to tell fully, but let me say this; he acted under orders the entire time and to the best of his ability within the circumstances. A better man for the job, one could not ask for and I did not realize it at the time."

McGonagall's eyebrows climbed to her hairline and she coughed politely, glancing at Dumbledore's portrait. "Well, be that as it may, Mister Potter, I will respectfully say that I happen to disagree with you and let's leave it at that, shall we, hmm?"

Harry nodded and looked over his shoulder at Dumbledore. The wizened wizard winked at him and waved his hand at Harry, closed his eyes then bowed his head. Harry shook his head and turned back to McGonagall.

"Now, Mister Potter, what can I do for you?"

Harry sighed, knowing that he was about to try her patience. "I need one more favour from you concerning Professor Snape, ma'am."

McGonagall eyed him for a moment then nodded. "Very well, what is it?"

"I'd like to know where Snape's living quarters in the castle were and have permission to enter them."

"Why?"

"I would like to add one of his personal effects to Hermione's time capsule."

McGonagall frowned. "I've heard about this "time capsule", but are you certain you wish to add something of Severus's?"

Harry nodded. "Professor, as I said on the grounds that night; Snape wasn't Voldemort's. He was Dumbledore's man through and through. Our world needs to be shown that as well."

McGonagall made a face but nodded. "Severus's quarters were sealed up before the Aurors came to claim the deceased after the battle. What few personal items they found in the Headmaster's chambers were confiscated and taken to the Ministry. No one has been in his rooms since but I suppose no harm would come of you entering them." She eyed him for a moment, her face softening. "Do be careful, Harry, despite your and Albus's reassurances, Severus was an acrimonious man."

Harry stood outside the door to Snape's quarters and took a deep breath, preparing himself to enter the serpent's chambers. He reached for the doorknob, only to have the door click and swing open before he even touched it. Biting his lip, Harry drew his wand, whispered Lumos and entered.

The darkness receded from the low light of his wand, and then the torches in the room suddenly flared, sensing the presence of someone. Harry gasped as the door slammed shut behind him and he whirled around almost expecting Snape to be standing there glaring at him.

He pressed a hand to his heart and closed his eyes, chuckling softly at his own theatrics. Dousing his wand, Harry shook his head and opened his eyes, peering around the neatly organized room. A long work table with discarded potion-making supplies and a desk were along one wall, the other side was covered with filled bookshelves. A small sitting area surrounded the fireplace and two closed doors led off to what Harry assumed were the loo and Snape's bedroom. He'd check in those rooms in a moment but first out here. Everything appeared as if Snape had just left, even though a slight layer of dust covered the furnishings.

Harry walked over to the desk and stared at the book lying in the centre, reaching out to touch its tattered cover, his fingers tracing the title in remembrance.

Advanced Potion Making

Merlin, was it the same book? How had Snape recovered it? When? Harry sat down in the chair, his breath coming in sharp, short pants as he flipped opened the cover.

Snape's spidery scrawl, his epitaph in all its infamous glory proclaiming the rightful ownership of the book stared back at Harry and he slammed the book shut. He closed his eyes for just a moment as the dust filtered up around him, the musky scent of potions, of Snape, swelling in the air.

Snape stood at the long work table, potions bubbling in two cauldrons at the same time. He grabbed a phial and measured out a small amount with an eyedropper, carefully added the yellow liquid into one cauldron a bead at a time, allowing the potion to combine before adding another. Stirring the mixture counter clockwise, and counting silently, he added the ingredient to the other cauldron and then began to blend that one as well.

Decanting the potion into a phial, Snape sealed the bottle first with a cork then with wax and finally tapped the bottle with his wand. He wrapped the phial in a flannel and tucked it in his robes then began preparing a second bottle.

Snape looked up from the cauldrons as the door opened and Dumbledore entered, smiling at the man. "Is the potion for Arthur ready?"

Snape gave a curt nod. "It is. These batches should last Weasley through the night. He's lucky Potter is such a nosy child."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I prefer to think of it as inquisitive, Severus, and seem to recall that someone else was just as curious as a child."

Snape sneered and continued to fill the little bottles.

"However, I've come to the conclusion that Harry's dream is not what it appears to be. I must ask a favour of you, Severus, for this is not something I can do. You are the only other one who is qualified."

Snape froze but didn't look up at Dumbledore. "Do not ask it of me," he whispered softly.

Dumbledore eyed Snape, arching a brow. "You gave your word, Severus. He is no longer safe and new precautions must be taken. I fear Occlumency is the only way. I shall make certain that your secrets are guarded as well." Dumbledore reached out and picked up several of the phials from the work table then turned to go. "I'll explain it to Harry. Good evening, Severus."

Snape flinched as the door closed softly behind Dumbledore then he grabbed the empty cauldron and flung it from the table. It crashed into the wall with a loud clang and Snape hung his head, fists clenched at his sides.

Sighing, Snape straightened and moved to retrieve his cauldron. Suddenly, he grabbed his forearm and hissed. Drawing his wand, he cast a charm over the second cauldron and pulled the phial out of his robes. He looked around the rooms almost frantically then grabbed a book off one of the shelves. He jumped and hissed again, dropped the book, spilling several items out on the floor. He knelt, laid the open book on the floor and returned the items and the new phial inside then slid it back onto the shelf.

Running for the door, Snape flicked his wand at it and it opened, slamming behind him loudly.

Harry jumped when the door slammed and raised his head from the desk. He looked up find McGonagall standing next to him, her hand just hovering over his shoulder. He scooted the chair back from Snape's desk and rubbed his face, "Professor..."

McGonagall cleared her throat and gazed around the quarters. "Mister Potter, it's well past dinner and you've been down in these chambers all day. Did you, per chance, find what you were looking for or did you just nap all day?" She focused her gaze on Harry again and looked down her nose at him.

Harry felt his cheeks heat as if he had been caught cheating in class and took a deep breath. "It's past dinner?" he asked softly and shook his head. "I... There was... " he stopped and sighed again. "My apologies, Professor."

McGonagall's face softened and she smiled slightly. "Go on now, Potter. I'm certain the house elves will be more than willing to provide you with some sustenance."

Harry grinned at her and stood, straightening his robes. He glanced down at the desk then reached out for the book and tucked it under his arm. "I'd like to take this with me and perhaps return if I decide this isn't enough."

McGonagall nodded but narrowed her eyes at him. "I suppose but remember, Harry, it does not bode well to dwell on the past. Reminiscing is fine as long as you learn and move on. The past has ruined too many good men and I'd not see it take another so young."

Harry flushed and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

McGonagall smiled and gestured for Harry to lead the way out of Snape's quarters.

After visiting the kitchens and returning to Gryffindor tower, Harry set up a workstation. He began to brew himself a Sleeping Draught for that evening then sat down on his bed to eat and look over the book, trying to decide when the best time to go back to Snape's quarters would be.

Harry flipped through the pages of the potion book, shaking his head as the cauldron bubbled softly behind him. Reading over Snape's notes in the book had once again helped him brew a near perfect potion and he was bound and determined to get a full night's rest.

Picking up another sandwich, Harry moved the book over and made to get up to check his potion. The book slid to the floor with a loud bang and Harry placed his sandwich back on the plate and stooped to pick up the book, a piece of parchment fluttering out of the book as he stood.

Harry summoned the paper then sucked in a breath as he read the writing scrawled across one side.

Love, Lily

He flipped it over and more of Snape's scrawl.

3217 Spinner's End. Playground.

He sank back to the bed, breathing uneven as he turned the page over and over looking at the two notations. He knew his mum's handwriting from the letter he'd found in Sirius's bedroom but Snape's had to have been added later.

Harry bit his lip trying to recall where he'd seen or heard the name Spinner's End before when the stench of something burning wafted over to him. He looked up to see smoke rising up from his cauldron and jumped, dropping the parchment on the bed. Flicking his wand at the now ruined potion, he cleared it away and sighed. So much for his rest that evening.

Disgusted with himself, Harry banished the picnic basket back to the kitchens and climbed into bed. Placing the parchment back inside the book and setting it on the table beside his bed, he yawned. After putting his glasses on top of the book, Harry rubbed his face and settled down into the bed, dousing the candles with his wand before laying that aside as well.

Staring up at the canopy of the bed with only the firelight to illuminate the room, Harry waited for sleep to come.

Snape stood at the edge of the playground, looking over the rusty and worn down swings wistfully. He walked over and knelt by the leg of the set, running his hand along the pole, gripping it tightly for a moment then bowed his head.

Snape dragged his fingers through the sand at the edge of the swing set, his other hand clutching a book close to his chest. He laid the book into the hole, tapped it with his wand then buried it again. He looked around the derelict playground once more then stood.

Snape disappeared with a pop.

Harry jolted awake and sat up as if the pop had echoed in his room. He growled in frustration as he reached for his glasses and wand. Bringing the candles up and casting the time spell, showed him that he'd only been asleep for two hours. He climbed out of bed and grabbed the book, flipping through the pages to find the slip of parchment with his mother and Snape's handwriting on it.

"Fine, then, that's how you want to be, you bloody bastard. Let's just go see what it is you buried."

Harry grabbed his wand, wrapped his dressing gown around him and stormed out of his room.

The playground was dark and the tatty swing blew lazily in the breeze when Harry appeared at the edge of the street. He stomped over the set and fell to his knees next to the rust pole just as Snape had in his dream. He tucked the parchment into his dressing gown pocket then began clawing at the sand.

His fingers pushed the sand out of the way furiously, and then struck something hard. He gasped and dug faster uncovering a book and he stared at it in disbelief.

The Dark Arts Outsmarted

Harry picked up the book and opened it, shaking his head when he found Snape's handwriting once again gracing the inside cover. Closing the book, he filled in the hole and stood, dusting the sand from his knees. He walked away from the swings just as the morning sun's rays began to crest the horizon and he Apparated away.

"Books? Two books that Snape scribbled in with spells that could almost technically be called Dark are what you want to add into the time capsule?" Hermione stared at Harry.

Harry nodded. "Why not? There's some fantastic magic in these books and he's improved on the potions."

Hermione frowned as she shook her head and pushed the books away with her wand. "Harry... those books aren't going to convince anyone of Snape's loyalty. That one especially." She tapped the Dark Arts book with her wand and shivered.

"I know you never thought you'd hear me say this however; throw them out." She eyed him critically and continued. "Please, Harry, this isn't good for you. It's worse than when you were obsessed with Malfoy during our Sixth Year. You look something awful. Won't you please go see someone at St. Mungo's?"

Harry pursed his lips and stood, sweeping the books up into his arms. "No." He turned and walked away from her, opening the door and slamming it behind him as he left.

Harry stood outside of Snape's tomb, the two books clutched to his chest, debating on whether or not enter. He pushed his glasses up on his forehead and rubbed his eyes, trying to alleviate the painful itching and burning from his lack of rest. He blew out a breath and straightened his spectacles then entered the tomb, feeling the wards lick across his skin and accept him as a valid visitor. After the funeral, he'd asked Kingsley to work his magical signature into the wards to allow him to visit Snape, although he'd not known why or imagined himself returning so soon.

Stopping at the foot of the slab, Harry stared at Snape for a moment, feeling the resentment and anger well up. He frowned at Snape then closed his eyes briefly as another emotion followed on the heels of those. Gratitude and serenity filled him, confusing him as a sense of peace settled around Snape's place of rest.

"Hello, sir. It's me, Harry Potter," he whispered softly. "I... I found your books." He walked closer to Snape and looked down at the man, the urge to reach down and touch Snape's cheek was almost unbearably strong. He stepped back from the body and looked down at the floor. What the hell had come over him? Touching Snape? Bloody Hell, perhaps Hermione was right. Maybe he did need to go to St. Mungo's.

Shaking his hand to rid himself of the feeling, he chuckled, the sound slightly hysterical to his own ears. "Actually, you could say you led me to them, couldn't you? Why is that, sir? Is there something I missed?"

Harry sighed and began to walk up and down the length of the tomb, biting his lip and trying to decide what to say next. "If there is, I don't know what it is you are trying to tell me. I took them to Hermione. You remember her, yeah? Smartest witch of our age. Lupin said so anyway. He's dead now too. All of you are gone." He stopped and pursed his lips then shook his head. "That doesn't matter because we all had a job to do. It was a war and Professor Dumbledore left us a task. Well, it's over now and we won. Hermione thinks we need something to remind people that it wasn't about blood purity and I agree. You once thought that way too. So I took your books to her and tried to talk to her. But she didn't understand about you!" He growled out in frustration and threw one hand up in the air. "How can someone so smart, be so dumb?!"

Harry paced back and forth faster, the books clutched to his chest. "I can't believe what she said! Dark?! That's what she said! Said I should throw them out and after all the bloody trouble I went through to get them. Do you know how far Spinner's End is from here? Well, I guess you do, you bastard. Although I don't know why I am telling you this, you can't hear me. But seeing as they are your books, and I am having bloody nightmares about you, I thought you should know that you've finally driven me stark, raving nutters. Are you happy now?"

He stopped and looked at Snape, arching an eyebrow in a fashion that was eerily similar to one of the deceased man's long ago expressions. Harry let out an exasperated sigh and slid down the wall of the tomb. "What the hell were you doing burying the damned book anyway?"

Harry bowed his head and looked down at the two books in his lap, running his fingers across the titles. The Dark Arts book shuddered under his fingers and he jerked his fingers back, glancing up at Snape's body then back down at the books.

The book wiggled again and Harry tossed them both to the floor as a gust of wind blew through the tomb, flipping the pages of the books wildly. Harry wrapped his arms around his head; an unholy moan filling the tomb next then everything went silent.

Harry raised his head, looking around the tomb. The Dark Arts book lay open before him; the middle section of the book's pages cut away and revealing what looked like a small time capsule of Snape's own making. He frowned up at Snape then back down at the book. The book was filled with a wand, a quill and ink bottle, parchment, several potion phials, bandages, and a small money purse.

Reaching out, Harry picked up one of the jewel-toned phials and examined it then began taking the others out of the book, trying to identify what type of potions might be inside. Laying out the Potions text, he began flipping through the pages only stopping to write down which potions he'd identified on the parchment.

He sat up, his back cracking and popping as he stretched. A low groan echoed in the tomb.

Harry froze, eyes wide with fear as the groan came again and he reached for his wand.

"P-p-otter..."

Harry tightened his grip on his wand and raised his head, looking up at Snape's body. He swallowed hard and got to his knees, yelping as he saw the fingers on Snape's hands jump. He stood suddenly, scattering the contents of Snape's time capsule across the floor and pointed his wand at Snape's body. "No, you're dead. I saw it!"

"P-p-otter..."

Harry's stomach sank and he approached Snape's body, panting hard as he kept his wand trained on Snape. Blood was oozing out of the wounds on his neck in slow drips and forming a small puddle on the stone slab. Snape's fingers jumped again as Harry reached out to touch the marks.

Snape flinched, and so did Harry when the warm skin gave under his fingertips. He pressed harder to stop the blood. "Oh, Gods, you're alive. You did it. You really stoppered death. But... but how?!"

Harry stared down at Snape and then rested his head on Snape's chest, closing his eyes as he listened for his voice again. He ticked the minutes off in his head but heard nothing.

He rose up slowly and shook his head, looking down at Snape again. The man was an odd shade of grey now and Harry knew that was not on. Why hadn't anyone checked to make certain Snape was truly dead? What exactly had Snape done? Was it a spell or a potion to preserve or prolong his life?

A potion, Harry decided quickly as he looked down at the scattered innards of the book. It would be just the thing Snape would do and he had to think quickly for some alternative. Something that wouldn't interfere with anything Snape might have ingested.

Finally, a long ago lesson during his Muggle school courses came back to him. He only hoped he remembered all the steps correctly. First, he bandaged Snape's bite, knowing it would do no good to bring him back if the wound was still open.

Harry took a deep breath and tilted Snape's head back; checking his throat to make certain nothing blocked the passage. He twined his fingers, placing them just over Snape's sternum and compressed his chest.

He pumped Snape's heart three times rapidly then pinched his nose and opened his mouth, leaning over Snape and breathing into his mouth. He watched the thin chest rise with his exhalations.

Laying his head on Snape's chest once more, Harry listened for a heartbeat. Hearing none, he tried again, repeating the steps several times until Snape suddenly gasped.

Harry jumped back and watched as Snape took a breath on his own and then another. He laid his head on Snape's chest once more and grinned as he heard the slow but steady thump-thump of his heart. His head rose and fell with Snape's exhalations and Harry felt a swell of pride in his heart. He started to rise up from the man's chest, only to be held down painfully by his hair.

"P-potion... P-p-otter," Snape gasped again, his breath ghosting across Harry's cheek.

Snape began coughing. Harry tried to pull away but Snape's fingers tightened in Harry's hair. He pried Snape's hand away and knelt down; searching through the bottles then realized he didn't know which one to give Snape. "Which one?!"

Snape opened his eyes. The beetle black gaze came into focus, glaring at Harry even though the coughs still wracked Snape's body. He sat up some, then lifted the fingers of one hand and flicked them toward the phials scattered across the floor. The bottles jumped up, straightening themselves into a line. Two phials, a purple first, and then a yellow one, marched forward towards Harry. The rest fell back to the floor when Snape collapsed back spent. His hacking and heaving increased while he tried to catch a breath.

Harry stared at the potions then grabbed the purple phial. Standing up, he slid his arm under Snape's shoulders, and helped him to a sitting position. He pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and spat it out then rubbed the tip across Snape's lips.

Snape wrapped his mouth around the phial and leaned his head back, trying not to spill any of the potion as he continued to cough. He sucked in a breath and downed the potion, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. The coughs shaking his body ceased and Snape sighed, leaning forward as Harry rubbed his back. He looked up at Harry and Harry met his gaze.

"About bloody time."

Harry stared at Snape in disbelief. Had he really just put his mouth on Snape's a moment ago and brought the bastard back from the dead, only to have their previous animosity still hanging between them? Some things never changed he supposed. Harry glared at Snape and ran the back of his hand across his lips then spat on the floor. "You're welcome."

"I wasn't about to say thank you after I lay here for several months, Potter," Snape drawled then narrowed his eyes at Harry. "You certainly took your time about things, didn't you? Tell me... do you enjoy the connection, Potter? Does it feel good when you are all alone and missing your little red haired chit? It seems we have that little fetish in common doesn't it, boy?" He arched an eyebrow and smirked.

Harry realized what Snape was talking about and paled as a hard truth hit home. Ginny was an awful lot like his mum in some ways. Her looks, next to his own made them almost a carbon copy of his parents. That alone sent a cold shiver down his spine and he didn't want to examine it anymore closely than he already had. How similar were their situations? Did he really need Ginny to help him into the Wizarding world as his mother had needed his father? The Weasleys were an old pureblood family, that much was true, but so were the Potters, as he'd recently learned.

Snape was smiling maliciously at him. "Yes, you finally understand and realize just how all consuming that so-called love is, Potter. But is it really love or obsession? Is she really concerned with Harry or the infamy?" Snape leaned forward slightly and searched Harry's face, asking softly. "Does it compare with the need that drives you now?" He reached up and gently touched Harry's scar.

Harry swallowed and nodded slowly then looked at Snape's wrist, his eyes going crossed as they focused on the pale fingers that still caressed his forehead. He closed his eyes and swallowed again, his mouth opening and closing while he tried to think of the words he wanted to say to Snape, but all he could see, feel, think about were those two digits slowly tracing his scar. Harry leaned into Snape's fingers and groaned softly.

He heard Snape chuckle quietly and shivered at the sound. "They didn't understand what you were going through, did they, Potter? Called it obsession and tried to get "help" for you, hmm? Little did they know how close they were."

Snape's voice was low and soft, brushed against his skin like a lover's touch and he opened his eyes. "But I know and understand," Snape nodded and moved his fingers down Harry's face. "It's the life debt. You believed in it, accepted it and pursued it in that doggedly Gryffindor way of yours, didn't you, Potter? Now, you are consumed, involved and irrevocably bound to it, to me."

Harry licked his lips and watched Snape's mouth curl as he spoke, the man's voice washing over him like a balm to his soul. He stared as if hypnotized at Snape's crooked teeth and thin lips, barely comprehending the words and instructions from the other man until Snape's fingers dug painfully into his cheek.

Harry pulled back from Snape, blinking rapidly and shaking his head. He bent down and handed Snape the yellow phial, watching as Snape imbibed the draught. Snape smirked as he licked his lips and Harry fought to tear his eyes away from Snape's mouth as the man's pale pink tongue slipped out and caught a few drops of the potion from his lips.

"Right, we need to get you out of here." Harry packed the rest of the items back in the book and stood, turning to face Snape once more. He tucked both books in his arm and held both wands in his hand as he watched Snape.

Snape nodded and slid carefully off the slab, wobbling slightly on his feet, his fingers gripping the tomb bed attempting to steady himself. Harry immediately moved to his side, his free arm winding around Snape's slender waist. The warmth from Snape's body penetrated Harry's and he leaned against Snape more firmly.

Snape grunted and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder, his fingers curling into Harry's robes. He smirked and bent down, nestling his nose next to Harry's ear. He inhaled Harry's scent, rustling Harry's hair with exhaled breaths.

Harry shivered and sucked in a breath, moaning softly and closing his eyes. He dug his fingers into Snape's waist, whispering softly. "What are you doing?"

Snape smirked and rested his head against Harry's hair. "Tell me, Potter, how connected do you think we are after all these months?" He ran his hand down Harry's arm, ghosting his fingers over the back of Harry's hand, reaching for his wand. "Back and forth in one another's mind through dreams. The things we've both seen... experienced," he insinuated quietly.

Harry swallowed, hard, and shuddered. He slid his fingers through Snape's and twined them together with their wands. "You saw everything?"

Snape hummed. "Everything." He cleared his throat and squeezed Harry's hand with his own, untangling their fingers after a long moment and taking his wand from Harry.

Snape moved slightly, wrapping his other arm around Harry and murmured against Harry's ear. "I admit that I had not discovered all of the side effects of a life debt as your father never acknowledged his part in the prank that led to my own experiences. However, I found as I studied, that life debts could be turned and used to one's own advantage."

Harry mewled breathily and clutched at Snape's hand, shifting the books and his wand around. "You knew what this would do when you gave me those memories?" Anger welled up but it dissipated just as quickly at Snape's nearness.

Snape chuckled again and shook his head. "Oh no, I fully expected you to leave me there to die, Potter, you were, after all, your father's son. I had done my job all too well. However, when I looked upon Lily's eyes once more..." Snape's voice became softer and Harry had to strain to hear him. "I saw my beloved... and what Dumbledore spoke of, that love and trust lived within you. I had a small hope that what I had thought I had once lost could be found again."

Harry eased away from Snape and turned to look at him, studying him in the low light of the tomb. "I finally understood at the end," he murmured softly.

Snape nodded slowly, carefully drawing Harry closer until Harry was flush against him. "I know. I saw what you did."

Harry's face infused with colour and he looked down. "The truth had to be told."

Snape chuckled and shook his head. "Still so naïve, Potter, so innocent. Seems a pity to sully that."

Harry looked up at Snape, confused, and then Snape pressed his mouth to Harry's. Shocked, Harry dropped everything he had in his arms, the clatter as the items hit the floor barely registering

Harry's eyes went wide behind his glasses as Snape's lips moved against his own. He gasped and Snape slid his tongue along Harry's mouth, dipping inside and tracing his teeth. He gripped Snape's arms, and focused on Snape's gaze. Harry let go, giving in to Snape and was pulled into Snape's mind.

Images flashed before him, the prefect's bath, and he was back in the water, only this time Snape was with him, in the flesh. The man's long lean body was pressed against him as the warm water pooled around them, lapping at their hips.

Harry pressed harder against Snape, feeling the man stumble back against the tomb's slab. He clutched his fingers in Snape's robes, clinging to him as the images changed. He saw himself stroking his prick and watched as Snape wrapped his long fingers around Harry's own hand, helping him. Snape's groan reverberated through his chest.

Harry moaned, shuddered against Snape's body then he was dragged away suddenly. Shouting incoherently, Harry looked up into the wand and face of Auror Williamson.

"You," Snape snarled, wiping a hand across his mouth. He eyed Harry in Williamson's grasp then tore his eyes away and looked at Williamson again.

Williamson pushed Harry behind him and turned his wand on Snape. "You should have stayed dead, Snape."

"What?" Harry stared at the man and glanced at Snape. "You knew?!"

Williamson nodded and smirked as he advanced on Snape, his wand still pointed at the man. "I found him, it's true. Half alive and struggling to make it out of that rundown hovel, poor Death eater on the run, I did what any upstanding Auror should." He shook his head and tsked. "Amazing what you learn in Auror training, Mister Potter. You'll soon find out that we're trained in all the arts, Dark and Light, and we follow them to the letter. No one escapes justice."

Harry narrowed his eyes at Williamson. "He's innocent! You were there when I testified."

Williamson stopped and sighed, but didn't lower his wand or take his eyes off Snape. "There are things you still need to learn, boy. You'll find that life isn't so straight forward, so black and white." His wand dropped slightly and his voice softened, eyes losing their focus as if he were remembering something from the past. "The precious things slip past your fingers so easily and the innocent ones suffer..." Williamson snapped his wand back up at Snape. "While bastards, like Snape get away with murder. The Minister thinks you're ready to enter the Corps, but I have my doubts. I'll deal with you after I've finished what I started with Snape."

Snape looked past Williamson to Harry and Harry met his eyes. Harry felt the weight of his gaze penetrating him, tugging sharply at his conscience. A sudden weariness filled him as if his own lack of sleep had swiftly caught up with him and he realized that it was coming Snape. He nodded and received the barest flicker of movement from Snape's eyes in acknowledgement. His gaze fell to the items he'd dropped on the floor of the tomb and he grinned at Snape then took a deep breath, clearing his throat.

Trying to keep Williamson focused on him, Harry snorted and shuffled closer to the books and wands. "Kingsley knows I come to visit Snape. I've got his ear, you know, he'll know if you Obliviate me."

Williamson made a face, turning slightly to look at Harry. "Merlin, you are an arrogant and obnoxious brat, Potter. Shut–up!"

Snape smirked and shook his head as he watched Potter edge closer to the wands. "He always has been, I assure you, Williamson. I had quite the time of it whilst he was under my tutelage." He moved away from the tomb slab.

"Sod off and don't move, Snape!" Williamson snapped, returning his focus back to Snape.

Snape raised his hands. "I've no wand, Williamson and you bloody well know it."

Harry shuffled a little closer to the wands, hoping fervently that Williamson wouldn't turn around anytime soon. "Yeah, I don't think I want to be an Auror now if you're what kind of people they are turning out."

Williamson's face went red and he whirled around to face Harry. "Bloody well shut, Potter! You don't know the first thing about being an Auror!"

Just as Harry opened his mouth to summon his wand the door to the tomb flew open and all three men looked up.

"Stupify!"

Several bolts of red light flew into the tomb followed by a team of red robed Aurors. Savage stepped forward and looked down at the stunned men, shaking his head in disbelief. He beckoned forward two men.

"Longbottom, Weasley. Conjure some Portkeys and let's get them back to the Ministry."

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood at the observation window and stared down at the two men in the quarantine room. Medi-wizards and witches, moved in and out, taking notes and healing Snape, checking on Potter.

The door to the Observation room opened but Shacklebolt didn't turn away from the viewing window. "What have you find out?"

Auror Recruit Ron Weasley stepped forward, peered over Shacklebolt's shoulder at Harry though the window. He glanced at Snape then shook his head. "Williamson confessed, under Veritaserum, to knowingly entombing Snape alive. Williamson's family was a victim of Death eater attacks. He was the only survivor; he changed his name after to apply to the Corps. Auror Savage is questioning him further."

Ron tore his eyes away from Harry and Snape then continued his report. "Professor McGonagall is the one that alerted us to the trouble when Snape's portrait vanished and she couldn't find Harry in the castle. She only did so on Professor Dumbledore's portrait's request. We replaced Snape's portrait at Hogwarts and his tomb has been sealed and warded once again. All Dumbledore's portrait does is laugh when we try to question him."

Shacklebolt snorted and shook his head. "Thank you, Weasley. Dismissed."

"Sir, what about Harry?" Ron asked softly. "What's going to happen to him?"

Kingsley looked back at the two men in the room below. They stared at each other from across the room, the look anything but innocent. Shacklebolt shook his head, wondering just what to do with Harry and Snape. "That remains to be seen, Weasley."

THE END

Don't forget to close this window to go back to vote and review!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Severus Snape and other Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, her lawyers, handlers, editors, personal umbrella carrier, pedicurist, and those guys in the suits from the WB. The Snarry Games and its participants want nothing to do with that lot or their money. Okay, we'd take their money, but they aren't offering. Web space doesn't come for free, ya know?