Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related works, they belong to J.K Rowling.
Author's note: Characters and scenes from Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery will be used later on in this story.
"I think he knew."
Harry looked up from the fire he was staring at and turned to Hermione.
"Who are you talking about 'Mione?", Ron asked.
"And what?" Harry added.
"Snape. I think he knew that I had brewed the polyjuice potion in second year. When I turned into that half-cat, Madam Pomfrey called for him. He took one look at me and said that he would have the antidote ready in two hours. Later in the year, when I woke up from my petrification, she remarked that it was the second time that year that Professor Snape had saved my life. I could have died thanks to that polyjuice mishap." She paused and bit her lip looking down at her hands, "I never thanked him for that."
I never thanked him for saving me from that cursed broom either. Harry remembered Snape staring at him from the head table at the end of the year. That was probably proof to him that I was as arrogant as my father was. Of course, he probably didn't need it.
After a pause Ron remarked, "Wait… when was the second time?"
Hermione looked at him and if he was missing the obvious, like always. "Who do you think brewed the mandrake draught?"
"But Dumbledore only thanked Madam Pomfrey for giving it to everyone and Professor Sprout for breeding the mandrakes!" cried Ron in protest.
Harry on the other hand nearly slapped his forehead in frustration. Snape had practically said that he would he make it when he told Lockhart that he was the Potions Master of the school after they had found Mrs. Norris. But he had never made the connection. It had been right in front of me, but I never saw it. Now it's too late.
"You're right about that. Dumbledore never acknowledged Snape for that. Maybe it was part of his cover or something. A loyal Death Eater wouldn't brew potions to save those harmed by Slytherin's heir, right?" Even as she said this, Hermione sounded a bit unconvinced.
"Yeah. Could be." Ron halfheartedly agreed. "Maybe we could ask Dumbledore's portrait the next time we go to Hogwarts?"
"I definitely plan on doing that. I have a lot of questions for him, and not all of them are about Snape." Just most of them are. Harry added to himself.
Was it really part of his cover or was it something else? Dumbledore had been rather stern with Snape while he was giving him orders. Was he really a git or was that part of his cover too? Harry felt that the answer to the latter could be a bit of both. How many other good things did you do that no one knew about? Or rather, ignored just because it was you who did them?
"How many have you watched die?"
"Lately, only those whom I could not save."
That had certainly been proven during Snape's trial. Harry could still remember his own and everyone's shock when so many had come forward and told with immense gratitude, the story of a dark haired and dark eyed death eater who had protected them and allowed them to escape with their lives. It was then that Snape's words had made sense. Though he might have claimed and even believed himself to be doing everything in Lily Potter's memory, he did everything he could to save the wizarding world.
That was something Harry wished to ask Snape; if he hated James Potter, why had he called his one-time best friend by his name. Well, I don't suppose I'll ever know.
Harry yawned and decided that it was time to go to bed. He got up, wished Ron and Hermione goodnight, and trudged out of the room to the one he and Ron shared at the Burrow. As he climbed the stairs, he wished that Snape had not died. There was so many things he wanted to know and so many issues to work through. Harry was determined to deal with everything that had happened in the war so that he would never make the same mistakes again. Wasn't that the whole point of growing up?
To say that Harry had lost all faith in his ability to judge people would be an understatement. Whenever anyone said something insulting about someone, all he could think about how he had actively degraded Snape, and how wrong he had been.
Snape had been unlikable; he was the living embodiment of bitterness and rage. He had many faults and he did awful things. He made mistakes that had far-reaching consequences that no one could have anticipated. But despite all, he took the blame and responsibility for what he did, he didn't back down in the face of adversary and hopelessness, he selflessly did all that he could to make everything right again. He was also the main reason the war was over and Harry was alive. Dumbledore might have made the plans and Harry might have won the final duel but it was Snape who had set the stage. He had his life to lose and absolutely nothing to gain. In the end of it all, he didn't even get a proper burial because the body had not been found.
Harry didn't know if he could ever forgive Snape for all the insults and hate, but he would remember the good in the man and would try not to be so impulsive in judging another without knowing their tale.
For years, he would carry the regret of never truly knowing the man who protected him from the shadows. As he took of his glasses, and pulled up the blanket, he once again wondered what it would have been like to know the real Severus Snape. He wondered if he was too troubled to be anything but the rude and sarcastic Professor Snape, or was he still like the Prince, the brilliant young boy whom he had met in the pages of an old and battered textbook.
