Harry felt so empty, but then, that wasn't so unusual. In fact it was his constant state, now that so many were dead. Was war was over, yippie. But everyone was dead. And, just to depress him ever more, he was in a double potions class with the slytherins. Joy of joy.
And he had only been back at Hogwarts a few weeks, and he was already snowed under with work. Severus snape stalked down the isle, and stopped to sneer at Harry's potion. But he also sighed and said; "Mr. Potter, please stay after class." "Yes sir." Harry mumbled. He was bloody useless at potions. He was bloody useless at everything really, he felt a sudden, strong stab of pain, and then it was gone, faded in to nothingness.
Finally, class was over and every one apart form Harry left the room, a happy buzz falling over them, weekend and the promise of relaxation negating the tortuous experience of Potions class.
But Harry just walked up to Snape's desk, feeling vaugly humiliated.
Severus took a deap breath. "Mr. Potter." He said, all most gently. And then; "would you take a seat?" he gestured to one of the desks in the front row and Harry sat, suspecting that if he had to sit down this was going to be a long lecture.
"Mr. Potter…when your parents died," Harry braced himself, he the last thing he wanted to hear was about how his parents would have wanted better from him, how he was a disappointment to everyone, he knew that already.
"Well, just before they died, your mother, who was quiet a religious woman, somehow found out what would happen." Harry gaped at him, but Severus wasn't looking, his eyes were fixed firmly on the wall, his hands gripping the desk tightly. "I don't know how, but, she left…documents for you. Letters, I believe. And some memories. They were to be left in…your god fathers possetion. But, as he was imprisoned, they never got to you. After that, I think that he felt that you would have been angry at him, and so, he never…found the right time to give them too you. As…the next surviving person closest to your parents- I continued to be friends with Lilly- they have now fallen in to my position. And now, I am giving them to you, as she intended." Severus swallowed and reached under his desk, pulling out a brown box, a quiet ordinary one really…but could they really be letters from…?
Severus put it on the desk, and waited for Harry to do something, again, not looking at him.
Slowly, Harry got up and reached out, hardly daring to hope.
"Mr. Potter." Severus said, a bit too loudly. "If I were you, I would not…rush this. They have been kept away from you for 16 years, they will keep for another 16 if you need them too. She would not have wanted them to hurt you."
"Thank you professor." Harry said, his eyes still on the box. "professor…why didn't Dumbledore give this to me?"
"he…was not aware of their existence." Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to know why not.
"professor." Severus nodded jerkily. "Good day." He said, in an obvious dismissal.
Harry walked as if in a trance, staring at the box in his arms, holding it almost lovingly.
He hardly knew what he was doing, but his feet took him to the one place he would be able to do this alone; the room of requirements.
He sat down on the floor, hardly noticing what else the room held. If he had, he would have seen that it was the bedroom of his dreams, exactly the way his mother would have done it.
He sat the box down in front of him and let out a long shaky breath. Reverently, he opened it. It was filled to the brim with thing; letters, vials of potions, a stuffed toy, a few wrapped gifts, a couple of quills, a dried rose, seemly random objects, that made tears stream down Harry's face.
There was a letter for when he got his Hogwarts acceptance, for when he went on his first date, for "when he was feeling sick" when "he missed them" when he was having a bad day, and so many others.
By now his face was covered in tears, and snot and his breath came in ragged spurts. Just looking at her handwriting did this to him.
He sat there for perhaps an hour, just crying, and touching the letters, and smelling them and just missing them. Finally, he opened a letter entitled "the first of them all"
Dear Harry,
If I am correct, and I we are dead, let the first thing I say to be; I love you.
That was as far as Harry got, if he thought he had been weeping before, it was nothing like this. This hurt, this was him screaming, like his insides had been ripped out, like his world had collapsed.
It was good, he had never really had any one tell him that before. But it was too good, and he finally really understood what Severus had been talking about when he said; take it slow.
Next time, he would take his advise.
He didn't come back to the common room until much later, and even then, he walked like a zombie, only dimly aware of the rest of the world.
"Harry!" Hermione said. "are you all right?" where have you bean?" "you haven't been with Snape the whole time have you mate?" Ron chimed in.
Harry shook his head and started towards the boys dormitory, Hermione and Ron in hot pursuit. "Harry, what's in the box?" Hermione asked. "Don't." Harry said. "please." His breath caught in his throat and he hoped to god they wouldn't pick up on it. "I just- leave me alone. I'll talk to you later." And with that he almost ran up the stairs.
It didn't take long for him to be followed by dean and Neville, who were in high spirits, Harry didn't try and find out why. He just wanted to get into bed as quickly as possible. But when dean reached out to the box, which was lying on Harry's night stand, and asked "What's this Harry?" he couldn't help it. He threw the most painful stinging curse he could and yelled; "fucking back off. ALL OF YOU" Lilly was the last person to touch some of those letters and it was going to stay that way. And with that he threw himself into bed, exhausted.