"This was it." He thought, almost numbly. He walked across the threshold, the steel gates behind him; and felt something wash over him. Maybe this was home after all?
Harry hadn't had much luck keeping contact with Ron and Hermione in the past few months. He was an auror now - living up to his name, having everything he had ever wanted in his grasp - and yet...not everything. Before he spoke with McGonagall, he had owled Ron and Hermione, in hopes that they could reunite once again at Hogwarts. Whether they decided to come was up to them. He hadn't been very present in their lives, and for that he felt deep regret. They were his family.
It was peaceful as he walked through the grounds. The cold, fresh air seeped into his lungs. It felt good to be there.
A smile broke onto his face as he saw Professor McGonagall standing by the doors ahead of him. Her own grin mirrored his.
"Potter!" She exclaimed, clasping her hands together and walking towards him. She pulled him into a hug - it was unfamiliar to him - but he settled in, welcoming it.
"It's good to see you Professor," he said softly.
"Ah, you're forgetting, it's Headmaster now!"
"Oh," he faltered, scratching his head awkwardly, "that's right! It's good to see you, Headmaster!"
The rest of the afternoon was spent reminiscing about the troublesome trio, their adventures and on deeper things - like what life might've been like if Harry hadn't been the chosen one. By nightfall he was feeling better. But not in the way he had hoped. He decided that a walk down by the lake might clear his head - and the fond memories of Hogwarts would at least kept him distracted from his thoughts.
The walk was cold. Teeth chattering, hands shoved deep into warm pockets cold. But he loved it.
The lake was just in the distance now - glistening with a sheen of ice and glittering moonlight. He breathed. It reminded him of older times.
It wasn't long before he knew where his feet were taking him. They felt heavier and with every step he felt the dull ache in his chest turn to something more powerful. More compelling.
Harry walked into the entrance and suddenly his knees went weak and he crumpled in a mess. The echo from his fall reverberated in him, and he let out a sob. He could not tear his eyes from that one spot in the room. That one, tainted, beautiful and terrifyingly painful spot. God. He remembered looking into Snape's dark eyes, and holding his face and willing the blood to just stop pouring from his neck.
The tears were drowning him now.
He inched closer to the spot.
"Greasy git," he muttered and half choked out. Now he knew everything. The kind of man that Severus Snape was. The kind of man who had spent a lifetime protecting Harry, and only for a promise to his dead mother. That's who he was.
This was where he had needed to go. He barely got to grieve the death of the man he barely knew; but a man he cared so much for, unknowingly.
It had been years since he had been back. Years of avoiding and suffocating the feelings buried within him. It was unbearable. Another death for the sake of Harry Potter.
He outstretched his hand and touched the floor where Snape's life had drifted from him.
"I'm so sorry."
His words hung in the air above him.
"Sorry for what, Potter?"
Harry scrunched his face. How could his mind play tricks on him now? Why did it choose to torture him.
"What? Forgotten how to use that daft tongue of yours?"
The smooth baritone tried to wrap itself around him, but he was having nothing of it. He tried to swat away the voices...but then... his hand hit something solid behind him. He startled. Harry fumbled to grip the form behind him. A leg?
Harry scrambled to turn around, and as he did the leg shook away his hand.
"Unhand me, potter!"
Harry sat there. Words did not care to flow through his mind, just shock. No movements came from his body as his eyes ran over the form of Severus Snape over and over and over.
"Y-Y..." he started, trying to calm himself, "you're not him. You can't be him. Th-this is a trick."
A hand reached out to him, "I assure you, there are no tricks here." Then the warmth of a strong, calloused hand helped him to his feet, and for a moment Harry was nose to nose with this man, claiming to be Severus Snape.
It was hard to move. Staring deep into the eyes he had watched life leave. But there was something familiar in them. Something familiar about the warmth emanating from him, and the blended potion scent that had been known as the Professor's aroma. Harry wanted so deeply to believe it was him, but every bone in his body wanted to deny it.

"Oh, I see you two have been reacquainted." Said McGonagall from the entrance.
Harry stumbled away, unbeknownst to him he had not let go of Snape's hand, and it only dawned on him as the warmth dissipated.
"Reacquainted?"
"You knew?" He asked, the accusation dripping from him. Minerva came to stand by Severus's side and looked at Harry with what could be closest described to as a look of motherly love.
"We couldn't go around just telling anyone that Severus Snape was alive. It wasn't safe. It still isn't safe."
Harry glared at them - there were too many emotions swimming in his body. How could they?
"I was going to speak to you and your friends when they arrived this week. It was supposed to be a little less shocking." She eyed Severus with an unapproving arch of her brow and he only returned with a smirk.
"Yes, well..." he began, the silky soft tones of his baritone almost calming Harry, "I couldn't very well leave him here in pieces while he mourned my death could I Minerva?"
Her glare intensified.
Harry cleared his throat.
"I need to sit down."
"Come along," said Snape, "I suppose you'll have questions."
They all began to walk out of the boathouse together - Harry still shivering with shock.
"Perhaps you can brew the boy a calming potion while you talk, Severus."

The walk back to Snape's quarters was a blur. It wasn't until he had been shuffled to a chaise by the fireplace that Harry had managed to be pulled from his gaze.
"Tut, Potter, how is it that you're a world renowned auror and hero, and you're still the same dunderhead who nearly blew up my potions classroom, drifting off to god knows where in that head of yours." There was less malice in his tone. Harry wasn't used to it. He turned his head slowly and saw a soft expression on Snape's face. There was a mug offered to him, "Tea? It will calm you some."
Harry took it gratefully and slowly sipped it while Severus got settled next to him on the chaise.
After a few sips Harry sat the tea cup down on the coffee table, and finally managed to turn himself to look fully at Severus Snape. Harry let out a nervous laugh and then smiled.
Snape just stared, bemused.
"So it is really you." He almost whispered.
Snape nodded, and chuckled, "Its almost like you've seen a ghost Potter."
"Funny that," said Harry, leaning back into the couch and exhaling, "...feels like I have too."
Finally Snape told him everything. Things that Harry hadn't seen in the pensieve. Things that Harry never should have doubted. Like an anti-venom developed over years and years that eventually regenerated damaged tissue, essentially bringing one back from the brink of death. That sounded like Severus Snape. But the reality of it was that Harry had to watch him die. And then after he had to relive memories - so many memories that proved innocence and love and unbridled loyalty.
Harry had fallen into a deep silence. Snape just watched the crevice in his brow, and felt the sadness emanating from the boy - felt it in his mind.
"For what it's worth, Harry, I am sorry that I couldn't tell you sooner."
Harry sighed. He knew he couldn't be angry. He knew that there were still death eaters out there, waiting in the shadows for their revenge. For him. And for Snape.
"It's ok." Harry said, and stared into the deep soothing brown of Snape's eyes - unsure of why it was so comforting to him.
"I am so glad that you are alive, Severus." The name felt incredibly foreign to his lips, but so perfect in that moment. They both were locked in an electric gaze and Harry wasn't sure what to say next. Snape had only nodded to acknowledge his words and shifted slightly on the couch.
Then Snape shifted a little closer, and gathered Harry's hand in both of his - the warmth trickled up his arm.
"I hope you know that everything I ever did, though it was for Lily, it was for you too."
Harry smiled, and tears filled his eyes again, "I know."
He shifted even closer.
"You died for me."
Then Harry did something that he wasn't expecting. His body moving of its own accord. His mind was racing, his heart bashing against his ribcage.
He took Snape's face in both of his hands, and Snape watched - entranced by the magnetic pull in Harry's green eyes - and Harry slowly, so carefully, brought his lips to Snape's. The soft sliding of skin became a drug, and Harry couldn't stop himself from taking more and more - then Snape groaned and moved his hands to Harry's hips. His grip was firm and wanting. Harry couldn't stop himself. Their breaths came out in hard puffs as Harry was pulled impossibly closer. Harry's hands moved to grasp the back of Snape's head, and Snape's tongue smoothed against his own.
Soon their heated kisses softened with the embers of the fire and Harry spoke between pecks.
"Don't," peck, "...ever leave me again."
Severus pulled back, and ran his fingertips across Harry's scar, and then down the side of his face.
"I promise."
And then Harry knew. This was the piece that he had been missing. This was what he needed, and where he wanted to be.
In the arms of Severus Snape.