Harry Potter and The Mirrored Veil Chapter 1: Resurrection sure to bring surprises, a harry potter fanfic

Harry Potter and the Mirrored Veil

By: D.A Cirle (a.k.a Sonya B)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling, etc. I own this story. I make no profit from this, except for my own pleasure.

Warning: Rated M for sexual content, language, and violence, slash, etc...

Feedback/Archive: Yes to the first, for the last, email me at me at my sbyamibakura account at yahoo

Set: directly after Deathly Hallows, with spoilers for all seven books.

Pairing: Read and see.

CHAPTER ONE-

Resurrections sure to bring surprises, and a new understanding of something you thought you knew

He heads out the door to the front of the Great Hall. He needed to get away from everyone, to get a bearing of fresh air, and fresh mind. He starts to walk down a step when he stops quite suddenly in shock.

"A big fuss as always around you, isn't there?" The voice was quiet, and held no trace of malice from the man in black who sat on the stair, not looking up or at Harry; Severus Snape was sitting there.

"Wha—?" Were the experiences of the last few hours taking a big toll on him? "Snape?"

A small mirthless laugh. He finally turns his head to look at Harry, and Harry was floored by the sight. It was absolutely without a doubt, Severus Snape. But… He was…Harry had seen--! Where was the fang marks? Where was the blood? Where were the cold eyes?

"I did love her…"said Snape, quietly. "But…then I…it wasn't the same." He looked down confused, looking as confused as Harry felt.

"Your dead." He whispers. "I saw you die! Nagini pierced your neck! And you…and you… you revealed your secrets to me. What are you doing here, Severus Snape?" His voice cracked at the end, and Snape looks back up at him.

"I know I died." He said, his voice still soft, and void of malice. He sounded sad, and also…something. "I remember the pain…the resignation…I did what I set out to do…" He looks back at Harry. "I did it all for her. And then…though I resented it in the beginning…I did it for you. Green Eyes."

Dumbledore had been right all along. It had been love that caused the fall of Voldemort. If Snape had never loved Lily…what would the situation have turned out like? Why was he seeing Snape? Was he a ghost? Snape stands up suddenly, and walks up the two steps separating them, and stands in front of Harry. He was pale as always, maybe a little more pale. But, he wasn't translucent like the other ghosts. His eyes seemed to burn with some indefinable emotion that Harry could not describe. He gulps against a sudden wave of emotion. In the end…Severus Snape had been what Dumbledore said he was (and he truly was) all along.

Suddenly a pale hand darts out and touches his cheek. Touches him. A pale, cold hand, but alive. Alive.

Just as suddenly as the hand touches his cheek, it just as soon darts away, back on the side of the uncertain and (for once) emotional man, who was supposed to be dead. Who was dead, but who was…what on Merlin's name…?

The shocked silence sounds for a few minutes, and neither could speak a word. The world could have been crashing around them, the school could have blown up, and neither would have noticed. Harry was trying not to have a nervous breakdown, and the other…well…Harry could not have said what a dead man was thinking. All he could do was look into those bottomless black eyes, while Snape looked at him. ...His eyes, he relented, they were after all his mother's eyes…that must be what he was seeing…he felt a different kind of sadness that wasn't the lingering one that was still with him with the fresh deaths of so many loved ones. It hadn't been reported to the Daily Prophet yet, that paper was back on track due to the temporary Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt who seemed destined to take the post. Rita Skeeter was suspended, and Luna and her dad were running the Quibbler again. Gringotts seemed to be getting back under control, and everyone had been hearing celebrations coming from Hogsmeade as well as Hogwarts.

"You're being celebrated now. Everyone knows what you did. I'm glad they know. You deserve to finally get some recognition."

Snape blinks in surprise at the sudden words. Harry himself was surprised, still in shock, utter shock, but surprised. He fought down the sudden urge to show some affection for the man who should be (definitely should be) dead, and fidgets a little.

"…Thank you." The words were so very quiet that Harry could barely hear. But he did. He gulps. "There was a bluish light from something small…I couldn't really see it." Snape said suddenly. "I…opened my eyes, and there was no Dark Lord there, and…the snake was gone, and you were gone. I saw a small little Ring glowing; I went to pick it up, and as soon as I touched it, it disappeared."

A ring? Could it be the ring that Harry had lost in the woods? The resurrection stone? But, if so… how could it get to the Shrieking Shack with Snape? How was Snape here in the first place? He was real. He was flesh, he was no ghost. He was real; he wasn't a shadow like his parents had been, like how Sirius and Lupin had been. He could still feel that cold sallow hand touch his cheek.

He couldn't remember moving, but the next thing he knows; he was embracing the man in front of him. Snape looks down in surprise, a brow raised. "Thank you for all you did for me. Even when I didn't know it…even though I always resented you. Even if—"

The embrace was suddenly returned by two hesitant hands at his back, and then they grasp. "—I resented you because you were proof of James and Lily. That you were Potter's, and…I couldn't stand that. I couldn't stand the rift that I had created between Lily and me. I had always done what I could for her; I had always…loved her." His words were muffled as Harry was still embracing the man, and he could feel the long hands clasping tighter suddenly. "It wasn't until a time ago that I could let go of my notion of love for her as that, and love her for what she had been for me. How she had been there for me. She was the best woman I had ever known, Harry." He whispered. "I had never known any better, and she was the best friend I could hope for. I am so sorry that you never knew her; that the Dark Lord's machinations took her from you. I tried so hard to do what I could to protect her, and it wasn't enough. I felt so much guilt. There was no way that I could allow you to be unprotected, even if I felt resentment at seeing the double of James Potter. I had thought…I had never wanted to see him for anything else because he took her away, and I hated him more because I knew that I had caused it, I had been the one to push her away, called her what I did…" Harry was startled to feel wetness drip down onto him.

Severus Snape was crying in his arms. Feeling a emotion he couldn't name at that, he just continues to hold on and let the man, the man who by all rights was absolutely dead, express what he could not ever. While all this emotion was shocking, Harry had the feeling that he was just as snarky and sarcastic, as he could be kind and worried about someone he cared about. And Lily he had most definitely cared for…

"I had to make amends. I had to atone for what I had done. I was so sorry, Harry. Hearing the bit about the Prophecy…I had wanted to be rewarded for something good done, I had wanted to be liked, and to be loved, but I quickly realized that the Death Eater circle, and the Dark Lord were no place to be. The Dark Lord knew nothing of love."

Had the resurrection stone somehow activated? Had it managed to create more than a whisper of a person? Snape seemed to stop crying, if he even noticed, and Harry could feel his hands calm down, although neither made an attempt to move away from the other. This surprised him, but he let the feelings that were washing through him go through their course. It was unfamiliar, and there was still the shock. But, there was also the feeling of sadness from Snape, the remorse, and the feeling that Harry had, that he needed to comfort him. This man, whom understood all too well the pain and terror from the now dead Dark Lord. No one could understand what those situations were like, except for him. Not even Ginny, sweet Ginny, who had been possessed, but spared the true horror and violence of the megalomaniac who was scared to die.

He should be with Ginny, embracing her. Not with this man, not with Snape, who was a miracle, a miracle he couldn't think to tell anyone about yet. It was only fitting that he would be with Ginny, and he could imagine in…marrying, having children of their own, being with her. But, already he could see in the now the resentment that he didn't really notice was there until now. She simply couldn't understand. She could try. And he felt guilty for feeling resentful, but he couldn't ever talk to her about what he had gone through under the hand of Lord Voldemort. And she never remembered what she went through. Just a shell…just a puppet… Sweet, nice, normal, but not…

"We're alike." Harry rasped suddenly. "You and me. And even Vo—You-Know-Who. We all didn't exactly have the best childhoods did we?"

"No. …Albus told me about your situation with your relatives, and I know now that they weren't…suitable." Snape knew his Aunt Petunia, and so he knew of her behavior.

"Well…you knew—know my Aunt, so obviously you know what she was like." His voice muffled against Snape's black cloak, which was surprisingly clean, no blood marred it either. Snape makes a noise against him, and quite suddenly Harry felt himself relax, truly relax for the first time in a long time. He wasn't sure why, and the how, and personally he didn't feel like thinking about it. He decided to just relish the feeling while it lasted. Before the wave of sadness would toss him in again. And it was after a couple of blissful moments that he realized what Snape had called him; he called him Harry.

And he had a feeling that nothing was going to be the same from this moment on. Even with the weight of everything that had happened these last months, these last hours after killing Voldemort, after trying to find sleep and getting none, after trying to find some solitude. …And finding Snape on the stair, a man who had to finally let go.

"You know I went to the Headmaster's office, and I didn't see your picture in there." That was true. When he, Ron, and Hermione had went in, all the other Headmaster's and Headmistress' were all there, clapping in their portraits, but Snape didn't have one. And after the events, of the startling revelation that he truly was Dumbledore's man, would make you think that he would be there. …But he wasn't. Harry didn't notice until just now, but it was true. He couldn't remember seeing Snape's face anywhere in that, and it wasn't like the man blended in with a crowd.

"Harry?" asked the other man softly. It jolted Harry to hear him say his name, his first name! And there wasn't a hint of malice or hatred. Just a touch of sadness.

Harry tries to move his head up a bit, and he looks into the eyes of the man which seemed to glow as he looked. So many things he once thought about Snape had blown away to the wayside.

"Yes?"

They looked at each other; Snape moves his head, to apparently say something…

"Harry?" That wasn't from Snape. They both move their heads from each other, and look at the large door where the familiar female voice was coming from. Harry feels the hands at his back unlink and move away from him. The cold hands had made him feel surprisingly warm. He also felt disappointment. Snape takes a step back.

"You should go." He said, still without a trace of anger.

"What about you?" Harry asked him. What would the man do now?

"I think that I will—attempt—to apparate past the grounds." Snape said.

"You can't make it that far in time, and…"

"You don't need to be seen with me, and I…I do not even know how I got here. I felt the sweet oblivion, and I died. How did I get here?" The question didn't seem to be pointed at Harry or anything, just a wonder.

Harry grasps the hand that had touched his cheek and squeezes it, causing the man to raise his brows. He didn't seem to be mad however…

"Stay." Harry whispered.

Snape nods.

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To say that people were surprised was to say the least. The news spread fast, and one of the Gryffindor third years ran into the Great Hall, and moments later there was a thunderous roar. Snape looked at the door with open distress. He looks at Harry, the two of them not noticing the astonished looks of Ron and Hermione, whom Harry had told first. (Hermione had been the one calling for him, and they all had been wracking their brains trying to figure out what could possibly have happened. Snape had been without-a-doubt dead. Harry felt the life slide out of his fingers.) Harry glances at the door, then at his friends.

"I'm going to find a quiet place—if I can." He said to his best mates. Hermione nods, looking quite thoughtful (even more so if possible) and Ron looked really unsure, a lot of events not so long ago were probably going through his mind.

He turns to look at Snape. He wondered if it was a sign of his becoming a man that he wanted to say Severus.

"Is that all right with you?" he asks. Snape nods, and without another word they start walking off. As they do, he sees Ginny heading their way. He really didn't want to have to talk to her at the mo'…so much stuff had happened…she heard about what had happened, the miracle, and she looked a little in shock. She looks to Harry. He shakes his head, he knew what she was going to ask for, and he couldn't.

"Can't talk right now, Ginny. Need to find somewhere private." He said. He knew he said it rather short, but he was feeling impatient, and ready to get away (and get Snape away from) all prying eyes, (except Ron and Hermione, maybe). She looked a bit annoyed as they walk past.

"I don't think Miss Weasley wanted that answer from you, Harry." Snape said, sounding a bit louder than he had a few minutes ago. Harry shrugs and looks at the former professor/headmaster, not showing the warm feeling he had when Snape called him that. He had no idea of the astonished looks from the three behind them in the hallway, part of the shock of seeing Snape alive, part of it their interaction, and the other part hearing Snape say Harry's name, and without a hint of loathing in it.

"Do you really want her tagging along like a lil' puppy?" he says. And a small smile starts to bloom on the older man's face. It was a startling change. So much had happened! And Snape was alive, and he wasn't loathing him, and he actually smiled. What on Earth was going to happen next?

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I need a place for me and Snape to have some privacy.

A door suddenly opens, and Harry takes it, and gestures for Snape to enter first.

"After you." Snape gives him a calculating look, a nod, and then walks inside. Harry follows and the door shuts and disappears behind them. The Room of Requirement was the best place that Harry could think of at such short notice. He takes a moment to survey the room.

It was a dark room; there was a fireplace up ahead, which was surrounded by two slightly faded, but fine looking, armchairs and a small table. The fire was unlit. The carpet was a very, very dark green, nearly black. Or maybe it was black… There was a bookshelf on the left wall of the room, and a small door in the left corner of the room. There were also pictures and Slytherin hangings, and the like on the wall, there was a small looking dresser with a Cup and a few other things on it. There was a small loveseat, a dark green the same as the armchairs, and there were two doors on either side of the fireplace, the doors were wooden. There was also a picture hanging above the fireplace.

Harry looks around for a moment, before turning to Snape who looked a little baffled. He turns to Harry, and his brows furrow.

"Just what did you ask the Room for, Harry?" asked Snape. He looked a little bewildered, the shock seemed to have fade a little, although Harry himself was still trying to get over the shock of hearing Severus Snape calling him by his first name, and treating him like a actual person. Harry looks into his face, the eyes were no longer dead looking, but Harry couldn't see what was in their depths. It was…unfamiliarity. Mixed in with bewilderment, shock, and confusion. As well as a feeling of…happiness.

"I just asked for a place for privacy, is all." Harry said.

Snape gives him a calculating look. "You didn't ask for my private quarters?"

Harry shakes his head. "No. I didn't know you could—this is your rooms?" That surprised Harry. He didn't think that they would look like this. He hadn't thought a lot about them, but when he did, he always imagined bats and cobwebs or something. He was surprised that the Room took them here of all places. It really did a lot more than he ever gave it credit for, he didn't think Hermione even knew about this kind of thing until Neville found a way to the Hog's Head.

Snape nods at him; he turns his head to survey the surroundings once more.

"Yes. Yes, they are. They even look the same since I had been here last…I never took Albus' room…the Headmaster's room. It didn't—feel right." He glances at Harry, who nods, understandingly. With the aid of those memories that Snape had given to him, as well as the feelings he understood all too well. Snape had loved Dumbledore as much as he did, if not more so. He had known him much longer; the man had to be like a father to him. From what Harry could surmise, anyway. And to have to kill the man… it must have been so very difficult.

Harry grabs onto Snape's wrist suddenly, and drags him over to one of the armchairs; not seeing the new look in the man's eyes, it was as if a small fire was burning there, starting to burn hotter. Harry hovers over the chair until the man sits himself firmly in it, before moving to the other one, and sitting in it quickly, looking over at the former Professor immediately. He didn't know why, maybe it was because the man should be dead (was dead) and now he seemed more vulnerable than Harry could ever remember (and more than he had ever been before, Harry suspected), that he felt an obligation to help the man.

To protect him. It wasn't as if the man was a burden but Harry felt this overwhelming urge to keep the man safe, and protected. He had no idea where it was coming from, not that it was a necessarily bad thing (even if it was awfully new and a tad bit frightening), but he still felt it all the same. The man seemed to need someone. What could that do to the mind? The man had been dead, and now all of a sudden, he was alive, and things had dramatically changed over the last hours.

It seemed like something that could possibly hurt the psyche, if left alone and unattended. That was another reason that Snape didn't need to be left alone right now, he needed human contact, and it didn't seem like Snape wanted any…except for him. (Another startling concept, still). There was still the burning question of just how Snape had somehow managed the feat that had been deemed utterly impossible (and for good reason!), and had risen from Death's clutches into Life's embrace. Harry really needed to find that Stone again…

He glances at Snape who was looking at nothing in particular, and seemed to be deep in his own thoughts. Harry didn't know what he was thinking, and it might not be the best for the man to think right now, so he called out suddenly,

"Kreacher!" Snape looks up a tad startled as the House-Elf appears before him and Harry in the middle of their chairs. The House-Elf looks at his Master, then sees Snape and his eyes widen. Harry shakes his head. "It's alright, Kreacher. He's good now…and alive." He shrugs a little, unsure as what to add to that footnote. "Would you mind getting us something to eat from the kitchens? He's not…"he glances at Snape who was staring at the House-Elf. "…ready to see other people yet."

Kreacher nods, and with a 'Yes, Master Harry.' He disapparates, and Snape then turns and looks at him, a brow raised. "Well…maybe I shouldn't have spoken for you, Profess—"

But Snape shakes his head, his slightly greasy black hair hitting the sides of his own face. "No…you were right, Harry. I'm not…I just cannot yet." Snape said. Harry understood. He understood all too well the overwhelming feeling, and the uncomfortable-ness of people staring at you, seeing you, but really seeing you. He was better accustomed to it than when he first came to Hogwarts, but Harry imagined that Snape must be feeling overwhelmed and anxious about the whole thing over all. He still needed time to…adjust.

Because no matter what had happened, no matter that Snape had died, Severus Snape was alive now and he needed to be able to live again. And Harry would help him do that. It was the very least he could do; the man had after all, put up his own life on the line for nearly seventeen years, had risked his life for Harry's, had wanted to see Lily's son safe, had really been Dumbledore's man through and through, like he, Harry, was.

Harry felt a sudden kinship with the man who had dealt with the same kind of horrible background that he did, maybe even worse. The feeling that he had for wanting to protect the man seemed to double in its intensity, and grow into something hotter.

He shakes off the sudden overwhelming feelings, and takes his wand and lights the fire which immediately gives off warmth, and casts shadows upon the wall, making some things look giant, and others seemed to shrink to almost nothingness. It was silent in the room, not entirely uncomfortable, until Kreacher suddenly appears back with a pop. Harry takes the tray from the House-elf, and serves Snape himself as Kreacher disapparates; He pours a cup of tea that had a nice minty smell to it, and hands it to the former professor. He accepts the cup, and takes a sip. A moment later Harry pours his own cup of tea, and nearly scalds himself when he hears a quiet; 'Thank you.' It came from the other man, obviously. Harry looks at him for a moment, unsure what to say or do, but when Snape just continues on drinking his tea, and nibbling on a sandwich; Harry decides to do the same.

And he does.

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Dinnertime

"…Do you feel up to going?" he asks the other man.

The other man chooses not to answer in that moment, but pulls a book from near the top of the bookshelf, (quite well worn), and looks at the younger, and shorter, man.

"…I think I will just read my book, and take dinner down here." The other man said quietly. In a louder tone he says; "Much better than having to deal with the stares and mutterings of other people, not to mention obnoxious children."

Harry nods, wondering if Snape put him in the latter category. Probably, knowing the man. They had passed a few hours by quiet talking. It was mostly filled with Harry filling in Snape on the events since his death (still weird), and some things before. Harry started to tell Snape about the Horcruxes and the like. The man was a little impressed. He didn't go right out and say it, but Harry could see it in his eyes. Maybe he was just learning to read the man better since they weren't sniping at one another, but he seemed to be able to read Snape a bit better now. But at the same time, he wasn't sure if other people would be able to, and he hoped that wasn't arrogance on his part.

And slowly…Snape started to tell him things about his own childhood, and the abuse he also had to deal with when he was younger, at the hands of his family. His mother was too afraid of his father, Muggle or not, to really do anything about it. Harry understood all too well what it was like to deal with family who never treated you right. All too well…

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Midnight

Harry looks at the clock in disbelief. Had all that time really gone by that fast? He had sat listening to Snape for a long while, and then picked up the thread when Snape trailed off, then looked at him, as if unsure as if he was getting bored or not. Harry was, all things considered, having a blast. He had no idea that he could have such a wonderful time speaking to the man, (one who should be dead as well!), if someone had said a long time ago, or hell, even three days ago, that he would be enjoying himself with Severus Snape, well…he'd say you were crazy, and get out his wand just to be safe. Crazy people!

He had sent Kreacher a few hours earlier, to tell Ron and Hermione where he was at, and who he was with, so they (and the rest of Hogwarts) wouldn't worry. He didn't tell them what he was doing, or anything, he felt that this should be kept private. And he was glad he could have something kept private for once. A someone…?

It had been a crazy few hours, it was now the next day technically, what would happen in the morning? What would he do? What would Snape do? What could happen from here? There were a lot of questions burning in Harry's mind, and he was unsure of the next step. He did know that he would go wherever the former Professor/Headmaster would go. Someone had to be there to protect the man and keep him safe, didn't they? And…it seemed like that person would be him. It didn't feel like an obligation or a burden, but it did feel like something special, at the same time it was surprising, and he was unsure where his newfound…friendship (?) with Snape would take him. The man had shown Harry in these last few hours that he was still quite the snarky and sarcastic man that people were familiar with, but on the opposite end of the spectrum, he was also showing Harry things that he had never seen before, had never seen from him before.

He shakes his head, trying to combat the enveloping thoughts away, and looks over at the man who had settled himself down on the small loveseat a short while ago, saying he wished to stop being pestered by the Golden Boy, and wanted to read. Harry left him to it, although he did not leave the man's quarters. The fire was starting to burn down as Harry looks at the man.

Asleep.

The man looked younger and older as he slept, a paradox, but true nonetheless. The lines on his face that were usually present when the man was awake, aware, were less defined. There was a little more tightening around the mouth, but overall the man looked…Harry was unsure of things, no, of himself, as he looked. He was unsure of what the unfamiliar emotion rolling around in him was. Why was he suddenly so fascinated with, and couldn't stop staring at, Snape? Even if he was alive now? For some reason it felt like things unsaid between them, something familiar, almost tangible in its intensity.

The man had taken off his thick robes which he was so famous for billowing in, and his damned garment with the many buttons and was just wearing black pants, and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. The white surprised Harry, as he had never see the man wear anything but black, and knew that it was the favorite for the man to wear. His head lay against the arm of one end of the sofa, his hair moved softly across the man's face as he turns ever so slightly in sleep, muttering something incoherently. His legs crossed towards the ankles.

Harry just sits in the chair for a moment or two before he jumps up, realizing that he was staring at the man a little more than was perhaps decent. He walks over to the man, and frowns at the man still in his boots. He removes his wand (his Holly/Phoenix one, he still had the Elder Wand at the moment though.), and waves it, causing the man's boot to come off with ease and sit themselves side by side next to each other, in front of the loveseat. Harry then waves his wand again, and conjures a blanket, he takes it and covers up Snape himself, as he wraps it around the man's shoulders, and he finds himself leaning in closer, staring at the man.

He was by no means the most handsome or beautiful person, but… Harry wasn't really thinking of what it meant to be thinking of what the man looked like, or why he couldn't stop looking at him. Besides the lines of age, his hair was fairly long and greasy, Harry wondered if it was due to being around potions all day, (and that left the question of if Snape was still fiddling around with potions.), and his nose was definitely big. But, it didn't bother Harry like it used to, or maybe as much as it should.

He finds himself looking at the thin mouth, and long fingered hands, stained yellow from potions, and shakes his head against the onslaught of something unfamiliar. He quickly stands, and walks around the couch, he hesitates, then for a moment kneels down, one hand resting on his forehead, and the other lying on the couch, as he looked down at the man. He actually looked peaceful, something Harry hadn't exactly seen while the man was awake, and he had a feeling that the man wasn't familiar with the feeling, at least for awhile now.

"What have I got myself into?" he asks aloud to no one, Snape doesn't make a sound or movement. "What have you gotten yourself into, Severus—Snape?"

He didn't receive an answer, he didn't expect one.

But, he would have been surprised with what Snape would have answered, if he had answered.