He wanted to go.
He wanted so badly to go.
But, not more than anything, did he want to go.
What he wanted - or rather, who he wanted - more than anything was downstairs, no doubt scribbling 'T's all over essays or greasing his hair up even more while brewing his latest disgusting concoction.
What he wanted was Severus Snape because, right now, he was sure he could kill him. And he wanted to.
He had to.
He looked to Dumbledore one last time and bolted from the room. He barely registered the call of his name behind him and continued to run, his anger increasing with every stride.
This man he had trusted (grudgingly, but still, for Dumbledore, he considered him an ally). This man was a friend to the headmaster, and the other staff whom Harry adored. But it turns out he'd been right all along - Severus Snape was dark. He was evil. He was a murderer.
He leapt down the stairs more than he ran down them, and found himself in the dungeons in no time.
He blasted open the door to Snape's classroom, wand ready to fire anything and everything.
It was empty.
He ran across the room to his office door, smashing into it, rattling the handle, and eventually trying to smash it to pieces with a combination of spells and kicks and screams.
Down the hall, in his private brewing labs off of his quarters, Severus didn't need the alarms to tell him someone was attempting to break into his office. He could hear it for himself, and if he wasn't mistaken it was none other than the absolute last person on earth he wanted to see tonight… well, perhaps not the last. The Dark Lord was always worse…
He knew that many events that had been a long time in coming were going to happen tonight, but it was still early yet. What had happened to make Potter so upset? It was thoughts like these that caused the normally cool and collected Severus Snape to dash through his living room and run down the hall towards his classrooms.
"Potter! What in God's name do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed upon witnessing the boy apparently trying anything and everything to get through the door in front of him.
For a moment, he seemed stunned that the object of his wrath and ire had come up behind him, but only for a moment before he began shouting any and all spells that came to mind.
Severus dove for the cover of a desk just in time, and managed to extract his own wand before it had been blown to pieces.
He tried his best to halt the boy, but he was so hysterical he was literally trying to blow up everything in the room, especially Severus…
Finally, Severus managed to levitate a desk and send it hurling in the boy's direction. Rather than dodge it, Harry did exactly what Severus had hoped and tried to send it back in the older man's direction, giving Severus just enough time to disarm him. As the desk crashed to the ground between them, Harry seemed to hardly notice his weapon had been removed from him and leapt over the desk at Snape, tackling him into other desks and onto the ground.
Neither man was particularly adept in the ways of hand to hand combat, nor were they very large, but Severus still knew how to take a punch and he did have the weight advantage - before long, he had the boy pinned to the ground. Harry's wand was within arms reach (unlike his own, which had ended up across the room), and he used to it to incarcerate the brat and levitate him (perhaps a tad roughly) into a chair.
Had he not been so utterly and completely surprised to have just been physically attacked by Harry Potter, he would have mustered a look that could have killed. But instead Harry saw confusion, and even something akin to worry stretched across the man's stern face.
"What," he breathed, rather exhausted from the events, "was that?!"
Harry offered no reply, merely trying to break free.
"WELL!" His temper was beginning to return.
Being trapped by the man only made the pain and anger worse, and Harry couldn't keep it in anymore.
"It was YOU!" He screamed. "YOU betrayed them! YOUR fault they're dead! That I'm orphaned! That I have to deal with all this! YOU!" He took a breath before reducing his sentiments into something much clearer – "I hate you."
This was not exactly what Snape expected to hear, though that did not make it at all welcome. Not to mention the fact that he had just had the greatest regret of his life hurled at him from one of his least favorite people in the world. He turned his back to Harry and took a few step s away. After some time, "Did the old man tell you?" He knew the pair had been meeting regularly, exchanging vital information ' which apparently was not so vital that it was able to be shared with a half-grown, inexperienced wizard…' he thought bitterly.
Harry had expected a denial. Or at least an excuse. But this took him aback – Snape was not trying to defend himself, only to understand.
"No," he answered warily. "Trelawny. She was a bit drunk I think."
Snape turned back towards the boy and rolled his eyes. Of course, he'd never thought that she would be any threat to his secret, but he should have known not to trust anyone. Especially one apparently so taken with cheap Sherry…
Snape eyed the boy, who had calmed down considerably (most likely due to the fact that it was now next to impossible to physically harm the man in front of him and the fact that said man was being surprisingly calm about all of this…)
What Snape saw was a young man trying to avenge a wrong he's known his whole life – a body writhing under constraint and a face contorted in emotional pain. But with eyes ('oh, those eyes') looking to understand. Hoping, it seemed, that there had been a mistake. That he could, indeed, trust this man.
Snape looked away, as he always had to whenever their eyes met…
He began pacing, considering what he ought to do next.
Events were going to come to a head tonight, he knew that. Death Eaters would be coming in a few short hours and, one way or another, Albus Dumbledore would die. After that, the boy would be gone and Snape would need to find him to deliver a final message.
He had already considered how he would do this – a great problem would be presented by the fact that, by all reckoning, after tonight the boy would not believe him if he said the sky were blue. Let alone that he must allow the Dark Lord to kill him…
No, the truth had to come out. Some of it already had tonight, thanks to the prophet…
Facing the boy again he asked, "If I unbound you, would you behave?"
Harry, rather irked by the fact that he was being treated as though he were an unruly seven year old, forced himself to nod and tried to check his anger in the hopes that he would keep his promise. It seemed he was going to get some answers… or at least he hoped he would…
Snape waved his wand and the ropes fell away. Harry stood and Snape, seeming to do so against his better judgment, gave him his wand back.
"Come with me," he said.
Harry pocketed his wand and allowed Snape to lead him out of the classroom and down the hall. He stopped in front of another door and Snape entered, standing aside to allow Harry to follow him in.
He was standing in a small entryway, with a small table, a cloak rack off to the side with a few pairs of boots and shoes beneath it.
He was in Snape's private quarters. 'What? Did he bring me in here to kill me where no one will see the evidence?' He looked up and met eyes with Snape. "Don't worry, Potter, I'm not going to kill you. Come in and sit down." The man said, taking a few steps forward into the sitting room. It was not a request.
Harry moved into the room and took notice that, although somewhat small, they seemed comfortable and well-used. He could see a narrow hallway off to the right which must lead to the bedroom and loo, he thought. A small kitchen was behind him, and there was a large fireplace directly to his right. It was to here that Snape moved, bending over and making to start a fire.
Harry sat on the sofa, finding it surprisingly comfortable. Within a few minutes, Snape had gotten a fire going, and then he walked down the hallway towards his bedroom. Harry heard a drawer open and close, and a moment later Snape was back in the room, this time carrying a small wooden box.
Snape placed it on the coffee table and sat in an armchair opposite Harry. He looked into the fire for some time, and just as Harry was going to say something, the older man spoke up.
"I had hoped, I realize rather naively, that you would never find out." He looked up at Harry and realized he couldn't sit still. He needed to be moving, so he stood up and began to pace the room. Harry followed him unwaveringly with his eyes.
"I told one person alone of my mistake, and him only." Here he stopped and made eye contact with Harry. "Dumbledore." Snape continued to pace.
"He promised me he would never tell you… Not that I can blame him for trying to explain after that wretched woman had already let it slip… What exactly did he tell you?"
Harry was surprised at being asked a question. He thought he was going to be lectured.
"Ah," he cleared his throat, "well, I really don't remember. Everything sort of… went blank."
Snape nodded in understanding. "Well, though I must confess I did not appreciate your… methods… I am glad you came to me. I suppose, this is my story to tell and you…" he looked at Harry, trying desperately to see his mother in him and, for the first time, really finding it, "you deserve to know."
Snape sat down again and pushed the small wooden box towards Harry, and nodded at him to open it. Harry did, and found one of the greatest shocks of his life. There, sitting on top, was an old photograph. It was colored, but rather grainy as old color cameras' photographs tend to be. There stood two teenagers about the age of fifteen or sixteen. One was a dark haired boy with shoulder-length black hair and a hooked-nose, wearing a dark gray sweater over a white collared shirt. He was seated in a chair at what looked to be a dining table and had his arm around the waist of the girl standing next to him in blue jeans and a pale green blouse. The girl had fiery red hair and… his eyes.
"It's you and… and her…" Harry managed to eke out.
"Yes," Snape almost whispered to the fire.
Harry moved on to the next one. It must have been several years earlier, for they looked to be much younger and Snape was a full head shorter than Lily. They were at a park, each of them sitting on a swing while a young Petunia stood off to the side, glaring at Snape who smiled wistfully at Lily. They couldn't have been more than ten.
Next was taken in the summer, at the beach. A taller, lankier, and, if possible, skinnier Severus Snape was sitting shirtless on the sand next to a much more womanly Lily. He flipped the picture over and, in hand that was not Snape's read that this was taken the summer after their third year.
Looking more closely, he noticed the writer looped their "G's" the way he did, and the "L's" had the same slant… this was his mother's handwriting. She had written this decades ago.
"Did she write this?" Snape nodded and Harry felt the sharp sting of tears forming, and quickly wiped them away. He knew it was silly, but to know that he was holding on to something that she had held, and to know that they shared something, even if it was so small as looped "G's" and slanted "L's", meant so much to him.
Thankfully, Snape said nothing about his tears, which continued to fall silently as he flipped through the rest of the small pile.
There were not many of the pair, it seemed that Snape was rather adept at dodging cameras, but many of just Lily alone and even an old Christmas card from the entire Evans family, dated at winter of 1972. He spent a long time on that one, taking in the images of the grandparents he'd never known anything of.
Finally, he returned to the picture he'd started with.
"W-why?" Was all he managed to get out.
Snape sat down but continued to look pensively into the fire. "Because she was, and always will be, the best friend I ever had." He now looked straight at Harry, and Harry could see that he was telling the truth.
"But, you betrayed th- "
"And it is the greatest regret of my life." He snapped, "and one that I have spent every day since attempting to atone for, though I know it will not be enough."
Harry was still confused and watched the older man until he finally explained.
"Your mother and I met about two years before we started at Hogwarts. We lived in the same town. I explained to her the world of magic - told her she was a witch, shared with her whatever knowledge my mother gave me. By the time we went to Hogwarts, we were best friends. Petunia was the only one against it - I still maintain that she was jealous, but whatever the reason it practically killed your -" he stopped, "it greatly upset your mother to have such a divide between Petunia and herself. Lily was always so good at naturally loving everybody.
"When we got to school, obviously, we were sorted apart, but for years we made efforts to see one other outside of classes and meals. She disliked my friends and I disliked hers, namely your father and his pals who were a constant torment in my life. We could never agree on those points, but we learned as we got older to look past them. She was still the same Lily I knew as a child and I did my very best to be the same Severus she had befriend all those years ago. We did well, and summer and holidays were the best. That first picture you saw was Christmas of our fifth year.
"Of course, you know how this ends." He said with a sneer. Harry was at first confused, but then recalled the memory he had witnessed during the Occlumency lessons last spring. Yes, he knew where this was going…
"With two days left before holidays I made the greatest mistake - I think - of my life and it pushed her away from me forever. She never forgave me. Over the rest of our time at Hogwarts she grew closer to James and I to the Death Eater circle. The only thing keeping me from joining them entirely up until that point was her, but now there was nothing keeping me back. I took the mark on my seventeenth birthday - before I'd even finished school. After I graduated, I was something of a full-time member. I was quiet, good at hiding myself, young, and largely dispensable, so I was sent on many spying missions. One in particular was to the job interview of Sibyl Trelawny. I don't know what he expected me to overhear, but what I heard was the prophecy concerning the fate of yourself and the Dark Lord. Part of it anyway - Aberforth found me and threw me out halfway through.
Like the good little minion that I was, I told the Dark Lord what I had heard and was rewarded for my efforts. I was promoted into the inner circle, and quickly learned that the boy he intended to target was you. I knew Lily had married, but had no idea that she was pregnant. I immediately went to Dumbledore who, in exchange for protection of you and your family, asked for my services as a teacher and a spy. I immediately agreed.
Of course, it didn't work. No one expected them to choose Pettigrew as the Secret Keeper, and so Lily and James were dead, you were orphaned, and I was still bonded to my role as a double agent. After that, there was nothing to do but wait for you to grow old enough to attend Hogwarts. Your arrival coincided with the Dark Lord's first attempt at returning, and you of course took it upon yourself to foil him. When he did finally succeed following the Triwizard Tournament, I returned to my role as a spy, this time as a triple agent, and have been working as such ever since."
Harry didn't know what to say, but was saved by a knock at the door, most likely Dumbledore, both Harry and Snape assumed. Harry rose and moved towards the door - Snape grabbed his arm and halted him. "Harry," Snape said in a low voice, so as not to be heard by Dumbledore, "it is essential that you believe, and continue to believe, all that I have told you. And it must remain hidden from the Dark Lord. For him to know would mean spoiling any and all chance we have at defeating him. It is imperative that I remain trusted in his eyes, do you understand?"
Harry managed a quick nod before Snape opened the door to his quarters to allow Dumbledore in.
"Ah, there you are my boy. Having a nice chat are we?" He said with a tiny twinkle to his eye. "I'm sorry to break it up, but Harry and I have an errand to run, if you're ready, Harry?"
Harry went to older man, offering a quick "thank you, Sir" as he passed through the doorway. Snape responded with a nod, but his eyes followed the pair until they were out of sight.
For some reason, he thought, his task tonight would now be much harder to complete...
