June 1998

"Do you think this will work?" Harry asked in a hoarse voice, staring up at Madam Pomfrey anxiously.

"It's a very slim chance, Mr. Potter. The venom is deep into his body by now, and this potion has had very limited success," she replied grimly, and then they both returned to looking at Snape, whose skin was as white as chalk, his eyes closed. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

Harry stared down at the man, completely confounded as to how he felt about him. He had been so sure Snape was a traitor, so sure he was on Voldemort's side...But to now find out that not only was Snape loyal, he had loved his mother, been friends with her?

Harry shook his head slightly. He didn't like Snape any more than he had before...but perhaps some of the blinding hatred had vanished. Harry sighed, staring at his lap. Alright, maybe more than a little. The hatred seemed to have replaced with a bewildering numbness that Harry did not understand.

He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a very quiet noise and looked back over to see Snape's eyelids flickering.

"Snape?" Harry said tentatively, unsure if the man was even conscious. "Professor?" he said, forgetting that Severus Snape was in fact no longer his teacher. For a moment Harry was sure he had imagined the obsidian eyes slowly met his, though there was no expression in them.

"Po-potter?" the man said weakly, sounding doubtful. Then he let out a huff that Harry took to be a chuckle.

"Of course, not even in hell can I escape the Potters," he wheezed.

"You're not dead...we gave you a potion...You're in Hogwarts..."

Snape blinked several times, hard, as if this information wasn't really sinking in. "Not dead? That's...absurd."

"I swear, you're alive...Sir...I..." Harry bit his lip hesitantly, feeling highly uncomfortable."I feel I need to thank you...for everything you've done. I saw your memories and...well, I don't think I can ever forgive you for the things you I understand why you did them...and I know that you were always loyal to Dumbledore."

Snape coughed again, shaking his head. "How utterly touching.I may even be moved to cry," Snape said dryly, his sarcasm far from gone despite the fact that he was on death's door. "Now, be so kind and leave me alone to die, Potter."

Harry's brow furrowed and he shook his head indignantly. "I'm not going to let you die! I'm telling you the truth, the potion is working! Dumbledore would have wanted you to live, I know he would...I don't...er, particularly like you. And yeah, there was a time when I thought you deserved to die. But not anymore...I don't want you to die," Harry added, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Snape made the huffing noise again, seeming to find this amusing. "Ah,yes, and Harry Potter always gets what he wants, doesn't he?"

Harry glowered at him, unable to believe that the man could still be a snarky git after almost dying."You can glower at me all you want, but I'm not leaving this room until tomorrow morning. Go to sleep." Snape seemed on the verge of arguing, but after staring at Harry for a moment,he simply closed his eyes. As he was drifting back into unconsciousness, he murmured,

"You really do...have her eyes." Then he was asleep once more and Harry stared on with a mixture of alarm and amazement.

"Madam Pomfrey?" he called after a moment, gaining the attention of the mediwitch. She came bustling over to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Do you need something, dear?"

"It worked..." Harry said faintly, his eyes fixed on the figure of his former teacher.

It would have seemed that the success of saving Severus Snape's life would have been seen as a medical miracle. Instead it turned out to be the biggest head ache Harry had ever had to deal with. While he had forgiven Snape for what he had done, or at least tried to keep it from hating the man, others had not forgotten so quickly. Having been in the final battle alongside Harry, Ron and Hermione were slowly won over. Ron was of course more reluctant to believe that Snape had actually been on their side, but even he eventually agreed to not hex Snape when next he saw him, which Harry saw as progress. Professor McGonagall, recently appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts, was not so sure others would believe Harry so easily.

"Potter, I understand what you think you saw. I know that you wish to believe that Severus Snape is a hero, who was only working for our benefit. But you must understand what this looks like. I am in no position to provide clemency or aid for a known Death Eater who was responsible for the death of Albus Dumbledore."

Harry scowled, biting into one of the biscuits she had offered him, this one covered with chocolate.

"Professor, Dumbledore was dying! Severus Snape killed him out of mercy!"

"Harry, I believe you." McGonagall interrupted him, startling him by placing a wrinkled hand over his own. "I must admit, I am still sceptical about everything you have told me, but I do believe that Severus did what he was told. You must understand that without proof, the Ministry will not listen to a word you have to say. He will be tried guilty and given the Dementor's kiss. Do not try and fight this fire unless you have fire to fight it with."

Fire, Harry had. The cooperation and sanity of a certain man was something that he found himself in short supply of however.

"What do you mean you don't want them to see your memories?" Harry demanded, glaring at Snape, who lay in the hospital bed, as pale and unhappy as ever.

"Potter, my memories are not an open book for anyone to peruse. I have no wish to seek defense, or to even stand trial. Whatever little affairs I had to take care of were handled long ago. I rest easy knowing that soon it will be over." Harry stared into those obsidian eyes for a moment, trying to place some hidden meaning there. Then he shook his head in amazement, straightening up in his chair.

"I never thought I would see this. Severus Snape, giving up! You are honestly telling me that you value your life so little?"

"What life do I have to value, Potter?" Snape snapped back in retort, the exertion of his vocal chords sending him into another spasm of coughing. Madam Pomfrey came rushing over to see what had happened, but Snape waved her away, finally calming down enough to stop the coughing. He took a deep breath before turning to look at Harry again, his voice calmer but still holding the same amount of spite. "Suppose in the highly unlikely possibility that you convince the Ministry to not convict me, I can assure you I will still be placed under guard. I will be put in a safe house, where I can do little damage. I will be constantly monitored. Tell me, Potter, what kind of life is that?"

"It's better than giving up!" Harry declared, so loudly that Madam Pomfrey insisted he was doing more harm than good and had him leave the Hospital Wing, thus ending the argument.

Like an obstinate yo-yo that kept springing back up, Harry would not give up. He visited Snape every day, although Madam Pomfrey limited these visits to twenty minutes. However twenty minutes in a day was all Harry needed to badger Snape about the memories. The rest of his days were consumed by warding away journalists, who were constantly trying to get an interview with Harry or Snape, or ideally: both of them, and consulting law books about defending Snape. And then one day, while plowing his way through yet another dusty book, Harry had an idea. It was an awful idea, an idea he might hate himself for. But if it meant saving Severus Snape's life, then by hell and high water, he would do it.