Harry wandered through the forest, taking in everything in explicit detail. His eyes frantically searching the damp terrain floor. Every so often, he'd stumble upon a stone, not too unlike the one he was looking for. But, once examined, he found they were just normal, magic-less stones. This did not help his case at all, and made him even more anxious and weary as he had been when he first started the search.
He knew he shouldn't be searching for the stone. He knew that it should remain lost on the forest floor. But, he couldn't leave Hogwarts with this unfinished. There was someone Harry needed to see, needed to thank. He couldn't bear to leave that untouched, for he owed that man his life, even several times over. With unbreakable determination, he continued the search.
Thinking deeply to himself, Harry tried to remember where he previously dropped the stone. Relocating it was almost impossible, for it had been nearly dark and he had so many other things on his mind. Perhaps he should just pull the thought out of his head and place it in the Pensive? Maybe reviewing that night would help him get better bearings as to where the stone was? But, tempting as it was, he decided against it. That particular memory was his own. Private. He didn't want an outsider peering into one of the most important moments of Harry's life. Like many others, there was just some things he wanted to keep to himself.
Another thought occurred to Harry, although he wasn't quite sure if it would work or not. He pointed his wand out into the darkness of the forest,
"Accio, Resurrection stone!"
He paused, anticipating the stone to come flying towards him. But nothing. Squinting, he peered out into the darkness, trying to detect any sign of movement. Still nothing.
Suddenly, Harry heard something rustle nearby. The stone, perhaps? Or maybe some kind of small animal? "Lumos," he whispered quietly, and the tip of his wand lit up. Sure enough, within a few seconds time, the small stone came drifting towards him. Gobsmacked (as Harry was absolutely positive that the stone was under some kind of enchantment that allowed it to resist being summoned magically), he held out his hand and the stone landed softly in his palm.
After getting over the initial shock, Harry clutched the stone tightly and let the memories come flooding back. The last time he used this stone he had briefly brought back his parents, Lily and James Potter; his godfather, Sirius Black; and his father's best friend, Remus Lupin. They had accompanied him the night he defeated Lord Voldemort. But this time, Harry wanted to see a much different person. He thought of the bravest man he'd ever met. The man Harry could never repay, not even if he lived a thousand lives. Turning the Resurrection Stone thrice in his hand, he thought of Severus Snape.
A white light projected from the rock, and within seconds, the man Harry had once hated appeared in front of him. His crooked, hooked nose stuck out on his face, and his black eyes were curtained by his dark hair which was graying slightly from age and wear. Snape slowly looked up and cautiously met Harry's eyes.
"Potter." Snape's voice was as deep and serious, exactly as Harry had remembered it, but this time he simply said his name, rather than spit it out as he always did. In his afterlife, the horrible wound on Snape's neck had disappeared. There was no blood matted in his hair or on his black robes or on his face; it was like his death had never really happened. He looked exactly as if he were headed to teach Potions back at Hogwarts. The only difference was that Snape's figure ran a bit transparent, like he couldn't decided between taking the state of a ghost or a living person. It was evident that thousands of questions were swimming around in his head, some of to which Harry probably had no logical answer to.
Snape took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "You're alive."
"Yeah," Harry said quietly, shoving his free hand into his pocket. "Because of you. And because of my mother."
At the mention of Lily Evans' name, something in Snape's eyes flickered. Even if Harry wasn't expecting it, he would have noticed it anyways. It was that tiny bit of affection, that tiny bit of happiness that he remembered seeing often times in Ginny's eyes when she as looking at him. But unlike Ginny, in Snape's eyes there was also sadness and longing. Harry wondered for a moment what it would be like spending all your life wanting something so badly-so badly that you would risk your life every single day for it- but no matter what you did, it was still unattainable.
Snape's gaze seemed to bear into Harry. It was uncomfortable enough as it was- they were never really on good terms, but now that Harry knew the truth… well, he wasn't quite sure as to what to do. His fingers played with the lining of his jeans pocket. What was he planning on telling him in the first place? Thank you? Sorry I couldn't save you? He had backed himself up into a hole.
"D'you know," he said cautiously, "Rita Skeeter wrote a book about you. Like she did for Dumbledore. It's called Snape: Scoundrel or Saint? It practically sold more copies than his, too." Harry explained. Snape raised his eyebrows.
"Hmph. A book?"
Harry nodded. "I haven't exactly read it, Professor, but Hermione… let me borrow it-you know how she is."
"Why read it if you already know the truth anyway?" Snape said simply. His black attire combined with his translucency made it difficult for Harry to focus on him for a long period of time. "And if that… that…that lady Rita Skeeter wrote it, how correct could it be?"
Relating to Snape's bitterness towards Rita, Harry smiled. "Well, I'll be the first to let you know."
Snape warmly nodded. Harry continued, "Professor, I just… I just wanted to thank you. I couldn't have done anything without your help. Yours and my mother's. I just couldn't leave Hogwarts for good without letting you know that."
Putting a pale hand on Harry's shoulder, Snape half-smiled. His figure was fading even more so now, but Harry could still feel his grip on his shoulder.
"D'you think... if you see my mother up there, could you tell her I said hello?"
Snape nodded once more and Harry decided that this was the closure he needed. He turned the stone in his hand once more, this time in the direction as he had before. Snape said, "I used to think you were the spitting image of your father, Potter. But I guess you have some of your mother in you, too."
A smile played across both their faces and the figure before Harry began to evaporate. Harry watched him disappear completely. Once Snape vanished, Harry threw the stone blindly into the forest once more and without looking back, he made his way back up to the castle again.
A/N: Sorry for any OOC. Concrit and review would be much appreciated. Thanks for reading! C:
