New Story Guys!

You may recognize it from a flash back in previous stories...but I liked the idea, so I wanted to delve into it. I love the whole Snape/Harry Slash, so couldn't resist writing another...

Be honest about what you think and the direction of the story. I am always open to suggestions. And Love getting feedback!

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Snape's eyes moved slowly beneath his eye lids. Moving backwards and forwards, trying to see something other than the eternal blackness. His body

felt numb and his neck stiff. He tried to swallow but was met with an awful binding that caught at his wind pipe. He willed his eyes to open, for the

lids to slide heavily up. There was a dull throbbing in this head, between his ears and above his forehead. Snape clenched his teeth in pain as that

was the only part of his that seemed able to move.

He remembered nothing but a pair of green eyes. Beautiful, round, perfect eyes. Lily's eyes. There was a distance haze of a snakes fangs and a high

pitched scream. But it all seemed like a distant memory.

When the pain subsided, he strained his ears for a glimpse of what might be going on around him. He heard voices, swimming though the air,

unrecognizably distorted.

He strained, trying to piece together the words and sounds, hearing snatches of conversation from what felt like a very long way away. There were

shouts and bangs and a muffled laugher admits sobs and heavy breathing. The sounds were confused and contradicting.

He tried to raise his head but felt a new jab of pain in his chest. He let out a moan that can out as nothing more than a gurgle. But that seemed to be

enough to stir the attention of someone who seemed to be sitting in a chair next to him. A harsh scrap of chair legs told him that someone was sitting

very close.

"Madam Pomfrey?" A boy shouted, loud enough that Snape could make out the muffled words.

A shuffling of footsteps and angry voice came into earshot.

"A little busy Potter, as you can see, I am trying to knit together Mr. Longbottom's wounds. And they don't seem to want to stay shut."

"I think he's awake."

"I will get to him. When all other major cases have been dealt with." She said contemptuously.

"Come now Poppy." A new voice added, getting stronger as it got closer. "Potter has vouched for the man, what more do we need?"

"He's a monster Minerva. All the people he hurt, and you expect me to fix his wounds before I heal the people he helped try to kill? I'm sorry but no.

That man isn't welcome in my hospital wing, let alone welcome to my time."

"He's not the man we all thought Poppy." Minerva breathed.

"Potter's been through so much, he's just over tired and over emotional. If he would just allow me to give him a sleeping draft, or something for the…"

"I'm not just making this up!" A male voice interjected. "I thought Snape had died, and I was there when it happened. He died for me. He died for all

of us. So that I would have a chance of finishing Voldermort once and for all. And because of him, I succeeded."

Snape's brain was trying to process the information as fast as it came. But he was having a hard time keeping up. Harry had said that he had died.

That Harry had seen he, Snape, die. And yet… And yet he was lying in a bed and clearly not dead.

"Potter please." Poppy implored. "If you would just let me see to your wounds, and have some sleep. Three days straight now you have not slept."

"That will do Poppy." A Stern voice warned. "If Potter trusts him, then I am loathed to say that I trust him too. He has done mighty damage to Hogwarts and the trust

of its students, but Mr Potter insures me he did his upmost to keep them out of real danger."

There was a loud tutting.

"Thank you Professor. He is a good, brave man. He was Dumbledore's man." Harry breather affectionately.

Snape felt uncontrollable pride well up in his chest. He couldn't explain the feeling. Over the last three years of acting a double agent, he had never

once felt pride for what he had done. Duty, yes. But never had he felt he should be praised for what he was doing. Not by Dumbledore, not by

anyone. He guessed that somewhere along the line he had turned from a bad man into a good one, or as close to good as it was possible for someone

with a Dark Mark tattooed on their arm. And he guessed that some people would call him brave for continuously risking his life so that others may

live, but Snape only felt as though he had deserved it. Deserved to feel scared, not scared of dying, but scared that he may die without saving

anyone.

He never cared whether or not people knew he was a good man or not. Listening to Madame Pomfrey proved that you can't tell someone to trust

someone else. But the reaction from Harry. The affection in his voice for him, a man he had always hated.

Suddenly Snape felt memories slide to the surface of his mind. The moment before death. The relief of seeing Harry's face swim towards him through

the haze of fog clouding at the corners of his eyes. The intense green sparking up uncontrollable images of Lily.

He knew he had one last job to do, the memory of Dumbledore. The one thing he knew would crush Harry's soul. To find out he must sacrifice himself

after all.

As the memory seeped out of him, the ones of lily began escaping too. Snape couldn't fight them. Couldn't even begin to force them back inside. So

he let them go. And as he stared into Lily's eyes once more, he fell into darkness. He fell into what he believed to be death.

Harry had seen him. He knew that he was in love with Lily. Something he had wanted to keep a secret. Especially from him. Questions and answers

fell into place around his head. Harry wasn't just taking a dying man's insanity as proof of his trustworthiness. He now knew that this whole time

Snape thought of him as something he must protect at all costs.

But before that. Before Harry even knew that Snape was on his side, he had run to his aid. Tried in vain to hold in the blood that had made it its

mission to escape its captive. With a throbbing brain, Snape sieved though the memories of the last few minutes of consciousness. Harry had tenderly

knelt at his side and looked deep into his eyes. Snape felt his heart throb like a stone in his chest, battering his bruised ribs in the realisation that

what Snape had seen wasn't just the only gene of Lily shining through a shell of James, but a man who had inherited every last thing of Lily. He could

finally see what Harry was the best of men. A kind, honest man, who would run to the side of a man peril, even if it happened to be an enemy.

He had been so wrong all these years. And it took the act of dying to see it.

Snape was jerked back to reality by a cold hand resting on his hand. It felt like a tender touch, though it could have just been a tentative one. And by

the feel of the soft wrinkled skin, it was Minerva's hand.

"Severus?" She whisper, squeezing his hand gently.

"I heard him cough Professor." There was a quiver in Harry's voice.

"I may just be in his sleep Harry. His throat was slashed, every rib broken. I've never seen anyone that bloodied and bruised survive Potter. You may

need to be prepared for the fact that he may never wake."

There was a slow wavering breath. "I realise that Professor…But he's strong." There was a creak of a chair as Harry sat back down. "He's too strong to

die."

"Yes, well, he has always been a stubborn man." She began to walk away when she stopped. "You know Potter, it wouldn't do any harm to get a few

hours' sleep. Severus will still be there when you wake up." She paused, waiting for Harry to respond. When he didn't she carried on. "I think you

should get out today Potter. Go and meet Ron and Hermione, they have been asking after you."

"No Professor. I want to stay here."

"Very well." There was a click of heels as Minerva walked away.

There was silence for a moment, where all Snape could hear was the slow inhale and exhale of Harry at his side. He tried to move his hands. He could

feel they were down by his sides. The numbness that filled his body had become to subside somewhat. He managed to make small twitches in his

fingers that to his relief, didn't go unnoticed by Harry. His hand sprang to Snape's and squeezed his slightly, not the small tentative squeeze Minerva

had given him, but a confident one, with warm fingers.

"Snape? You're awake aren't you? Don't try to move. You haven't finished healing yet." There was a pause. "You were dead Snape. I saw the life leave

your eyes." Harry was whispering now. "I don't know how to begin to apologise. You were protecting me all along and I was too stubborn to see it.

Just like you saved me in my first year." He exhaled loudly. "Vodermort is dead. He died three days ago. I went straight down to the shrieking shake

to get your body. I couldn't leave you there. But you were alive, you were covering in so much blood, but you were alive…After watching the

memories you gave me I couldn't believe it. All that time you knew my mum…loved her, and you never said a word to me. I know how my Dad used

to treat you and I know that was wrong. I know he was a bully, and I'm not like that. All that time you wanted to protect me but saw nothing but

proof that Lily chose James. And I understand now. When you looked at me you saw James. But I am not him. You must know that. I am not him…I

know he was a good man, and my mother made him that. But I am not like him."

Snape's eyes opened.

...

There you have it! Chapter One done and dusted!

Comment if you liked it (I will mention you on the next chapter)...or if you hated it (hopeful you didn't).

Thanks for reading.