A/N: I am foreseeing that this story will progress slowly. Also, there is no Snape in this chapter. I had to get this icky stuff out of the way first. It will pick up in the next chapter, I promise you. Trust me. I'm planning on taking you for a ride this entire story.
Chapter 1: The Day After
If I don't wake up, I won't have to face it.
His reasoning seemed logical. So he kept his eyes closed and resumed his deep breathing. Almost instantly, he found himself teetering on the edge of consciousness. He just needed to relax a bit more to fall asleep again. He exhaled. Yes, that was it. He wanted sleep to overpower him. He wanted sleep to force him to forget about everyone. He wanted everything to wait until he spent a year or two in his subconscious abyss. Yes, maybe after twelve months, he would be able to handle the situation. Perhaps.
The sharp pang in his chest proved to deter him from his desired slumber, however. He exhaled, in frustration this time, at his failed attempts at finding some peace. He would have loved to stay wrapped in his comforter, hidden from the rest of the world. But he knew he had to face it. He couldn't hide forever.
Harry opened his eyes and felt realization hit him like a bucket of icy water.
Moody's dead. Shackebolt is dead. Charlie is in the hospital.
Numerous are wounded and dead.
The pang grew to an ache that rapidly wrapped around Harry's torso to suck the energy out of him. The parasitic emotion clung to him harder until his breath became short and ragged. Harry shut his eyes tightly and held his breath until the pain passed.
Guilt. He recognized the feeling.
The pain subsided as quickly as it came. Once he deemed it safe to breathe again, Harry sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes vigorously before retrieving his glasses from the nightstand. He was in his room at Grimmauld Place, he realized. The room was untidy as always, with Harry's clothes strewn about the floor. A pleasant aroma was wafting in the room, telling Harry that he wasn't alone. Of course, he thought. It had slipped his mind for a moment that he had invited the Weasleys to his home for the weekend. The smell was probably Mrs. Weasley's doing. Sighing, Harry flung himself from the bed and padded to the bathroom for a shower.
Honestly, he had wanted to be alone for the remainder of his winter vacation. After everything that had happened, he just needed space to mourn and grieve the losses. McGonogall, however, had insisted that Lupin and Tonks keep him company. Just in case, she had said. Just in case⦠It wasn't as if Harry was going to invite any Death-Eaters for a post-war luncheon. Still, he supposed it was unproductive to wallow in misery, and McGonogall had most likely guessed what his intentions were.
It didn't help that everyone was recuperating well. At least, they were pretending to, which slightly agitated Harry. It added insult to injury in his opinion, to simply ignore all the tragic events that had occurred in the past two weeks. They knew it was his fault. They fought with him, for him, because of him. And, how many sacrificed themselves? Yet, he was being treated like a hero. It was unnecessary.
After getting ready for the day, Harry walked downstairs to eat his breakfast. He pushed open the kitchen door and found Mrs. Weasley, Remus, and Tonks conversing in hushed tones over their cups of tea. On the other side of the table, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were having their own little chat. Remus was the first to notice his presence in the room. His eyes widened slightly and he exclaimed rather loudly, "Harry!" Everyone turned around and beamed at him, save for Mrs. Weasley who had quickly stood from her seat to retrieve Harry's breakfast for him. It was a bit disturbing. He almost rolled his eyes at how poorly his friends hid the fact that they were just talking about him.
Ignoring it for now, Harry merely smiled and greeted everyone. "Sleep well?" Remus asked.
"Yes," Harry answered. He would have reciprocated the inquiry, but the large bags under the werewolf's eyes gave him the answer. In fact, Remus looked more than just tired. He looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was tousled and unkempt. It was a stark contrast to his wife beside him, who appeared exuberant with her bright pink hair and glowing complexion. Then again, the baby was due in a few months...
"Where is everyone?" Harry asked, finally noticing that more than half of the Weasley family was missing.
"Oh, Arthur and the boys went to St. Mungo's to check up on Charlie," Mrs. Weasley replied. She walked around the wooden table and set Harry's plate next to Ginny, who was seated opposite Ron and Hermione. She turned around and smiled at Harry. "They'll be back in a few hours. Now, do eat your breakfast, dearie, before it gets cold." Her eyes were warm, genuine, and not at all accusing, which made guilt begin to creep along Harry's spine again. He muttered his appreciation and sat down.
"Morning," he said to his friends. Ginny leaned over as he turned in her direction and he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. He turned in time to see Hermione's smile and Ron's repulsed face. "Any news?" Harry asked, focusing on something else to counter the blush that was beginning to show on his face.
Hermione shook her head. "It's Sunday, remember? The post usually arrives a bit late." She pushed her empty plate aside and continued. "It should arrive any time now. In any case, the articles in The Daily Prophet will most likely revolve around the banquet last night."
Harry had completely forgotten that he even attended that, and it felt he was forgetting something else, as well...
"Well, last night was a lot of fun, wasn't it?" Ron chided in as he brought his hands to the back of his head. "I'm bloody exhausted, but I had a hell of a good time."
Ginny smirked and stared at her older brother. "Of course you're exhausted. You danced the night away!" Everyone burst into laughter while Ron flushed a red that matched his hair color. Ginny continued after taking a spoonful of porridge. "I told mum to keep the cider away, but she didn't listen. Honestly--"
"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, much to Remus' amusement. Tonks grinned.
"Ginny's got a point though, Molly," Tonks said, turning to Hermione and winking. "Ron's definitely got the moves."
Ron, now embarrassed beyond belief, groaned loudly. He slammed his head on the table. "Can we stop now?" he asked through everyone's chuckles. He raised his head and protested more. "It's not like my making a fool of myself was the highlight of the night."
Harry, who had been eating his porridge diligently, had a sudden rush of emotions surge through his head as he remembered.
Everything.
Everyone.
Snape.
He dropped his spoon in shock, the metal clanging against the plate. Before anyone could question his action, numerous owls flew in through the open doorway. Letters and copies of The Daily Prophet were swiftly thrown down on the table. The distribution of the mail was chaotic, however. The owls screeched as they crashed into each other, and it took a good two minutes for all of them to safely retreat out of the kitchen and ascend to the attic window.
Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were opening the official Hogwarts letter that they all received. Harry, however, grabbed the newspaper and stared at the front page, agape.
There he was. Occupying more than half the page was a large picture of Severus Snape holding his assigned Azkaban cell number. Snape was glaring at Harry, a scowl fixed on his sallow face. He then shifted his gaze, left first, then right, and went back to glaring. The large headline read: SEVERUS SNAPE SENT TO AZKABAN
Harry skimmed through the surprisingly long article but quickly stopped at the first mention of his name. "Shite," he muttered. An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Grimacing, he brought the newspaper down on the table with a slap and found pairs of eyes looking at him questioningly. "Snape," he stated.
"Snape was captured!" Tonks exclaimed. She, too, was reading the article.
"It's about time," Ginny added excitedly.
"Harry," Remus started as he turned the page. "Why didn't you tell us you--"
"I didn't arrest him!" Harry immediately yelled, wincing inwardly at the harsh tone of his voice. "Look, it says that I..."
"We're not condemning you, Harry," Hermione reassured him as she began to pick up her newspaper. "In fact, I think that's the best news we've had so far." She then added in a low tone, "And now that he's in Azkaban, you won't be able to uh..."
"Oh," Harry immediately caught on. For the past year, he had spoken of Snape with such utter loathing, vowing that one day, they would meet again and Harry would avenge his mentor's death. His ranting had frequently upset Hermione, so this piece of news was a probable relief.
"Greasy git deserves to be locked up in prison," Ron commented, "I still can't believe he was running around free for an entire bloody year!" He then turned to Tonks and grinned. "Tonks, you can't get us into Azkaban, could you? I'd love to see his face, now that I can call him a greasy git without any points being taken away!"
"Ron!" Hermione and the Weasley mother shouted in unison, but Tonks laughed.
"Well, I guess I could pull a few strings..."
"Tonks!" Remus scolded as the Metamorphmagus snickered behind her hand.
Harry's fury was building up to that point, offended at how lightly all of them were taking the situation. He was so angry that he didn't realize that words were slipping past his lips. "Snape's innocent."
The loud chatter was suspended instantly. All heads turned to look at Harry, each expression incredulous. Mrs. Weasley broke the silence first. "Harry, dear, are you feeling ill?"
"Harry, what are you talking about?" Ron's eyes were wide saucers. "He killed -- no, murdered Dumbledore! You were the one saying he should be arrested and taken to Azkaban!"
Harry's face reddened. He remembered saying that, oh yes. He remembered it with perfect clarity. "Look, I know what I said, but..." He sighed and looked down at his cold porridge, unsure of how to explain or where to begin. It took him a week to accept that were it not for Snape, the final battle would have been in Voldemort's favor.
To tell the truth, he had planned on not telling anyone that Snape saved him. Not only because no one would believe him, but he would have to admit to straying from the Order's original battle plan. If he hadn't left his post and waited for his signal like he should have, then he wouldn't have been trapped by Death-Eaters. Snape wouldn't have had the opportunity to save him, and Charlie wouldn't be at St. Mungo's...
Something soft brushed against his hand and he looked to see Ginny's hand softly rubbing his. "Are you okay?" She murmured, tilting her head and locking eyes with him. He nodded and slid his hand from under hers to grab his spoon and resume his breakfast.
Hermione, the first to recognize the awkward silence that befell the room, cleared her throat and opened her Hogwarts letter again. "Well, we have a month off of school."
"What?" Harry and the adults asked altogether.
"Well, they certainly can't teach with the state the castle is in," Ginny explained. "Plus, McGonogall says they have to strengthen the magical wards, and..." the redhead skimmed through her letter. "That we should take the time off to spend it with our families."
Mrs. Weasley nodded and unconsciously began to pick up the empty plates off of the table. Harry's chest ached.
"Well, at least I get to review more for the NEWT exams. Oh, what now, Ron? You didn't think I'd let you spend the vacation just lying about, did you?" She stood from the table and looked at Harry and Ron sternly. "These tests determine our future! Or did you forget that?"
"You sigh and you pay for it the rest of the day," Ron muttered under his breath as he rose from his chair as well. Harry cracked a smile, but the twang inside him was irritating him. Here he was, free and content, and somewhere out there, an innocent man was locked up in a cell.
Because of me.
Last night's memories were swirling in his head. He told Snape that he would get him out. He promised. And though Snape would be resistant to the offer, Harry knew the man needed it. All Harry needed now was a way to speak to the man about how they were going to get him out of Azkaban.
Harry walked behind his girlfriend and turned to glance at Remus and his wife. He was still reading the article, but Tonks had caught his eye. She grinned and winked, and Harry instantly knew what his next move was.
Ron was right. If anyone could get Harry into Azkaban, it'd be an auror.
With hope now flaring inside him, Harry eagerly trotted upstairs to join his friends. Yes, he would make sure Snape would get the recognition he deserves.
Even if it meant breaking a few rules.
