There was something odd.
It wasn't the gray fog that Harry had to fight his way out of - that was becoming alarmingly common these days. It wasn't the heaviness in his limbs. It wasn't the sound of voices around him, or the soft sound of tears, though that wasn't the most positive sign.
Harry couldn't put a finger on what it was. Then again, he was donating most of his energy to reaching consciousness.
His eyes opened to look up at the fuzzy and familiar ceiling of the hospital wing of Hogwarts. He blinked and squinted and frowned. Was it a bad sign that he was there?
His memory was sharp, unlike the last few times he had woken up this way. He knew what he had done, and though he wasn't sure how it went, he wasn't as quick to jump to despair as he had been in past times.
He looked around, and grabbed for his glasses on the table beside his bed.
"Harry!"
He slid the lenses on and blinked around, finally spotting Hermione and Ron. He sat up, trying to read their faces. But there was nothing either jubilant or disheartened about them. Just relieved.
He swallowed, looking from one to the other. "What happened?"
"You did it," Ron said simply.
Hermione blinked and moisture coated her eyes. "He's dead. For good."
He hesitated. A feeling like sadness came, then slowly went. Tom Riddle was free. That was something he could always feel proud of.
"Did you hear what we said, mate? You did it! " Ron sat down at his side, knocking a hand into his leg hard.
Harry sighed. "Thank Merlin for that, I suppose."
"You suppose?" Ron gaped at him, then turned to Hermione helplessly.
She laughed. "It's alright. Give him a few minutes. You should hear what they're saying about you, Harry. The papers and Fudge and everyone."
Harry's mouth curved up.
"Too right, mate. The Prophet's calling for you to be made Minister, which we all know is ridiculous, but you may want to go talk to Fudge and explain to him how little you want his job."
Harry chuckled at that, rolling his shoulders. "Where's Remus? And Dumbledore?"
"The Order is meeting upstairs." Hermione's smile faded at that. "There were a couple of complications, it turns out."
"What kind of complications?"
"The Death Eaters...most of them, I mean..."
He frowned. "What?"
"They're dead," Ron said.
Harry studied them. "Dead?"
"It's got nothing to do with what you did!" Hermione was quick to cut in.
Ron frowned at her. "Well, except that they all died when You Know Who did."
"What are you two talking about?" Harry's relaxed calmness was starting to fade a bit.
"Nothing!" Hermione shot Ron a sharp look. "Just get your strength up and we can go up and talk to Albus ourselves."
"Every Death Eater died the moment Voldemort died. Is that what you're telling me?"
Ron nodded. Hermione frowned at Harry.
He drew in a breath, blinking away from them. He was entirely unsure about how he should feel right then.
"Interesting, really. A couple of people dropped dead that no one even suspected were Death Eaters." Ron scooted closer and touched Harry's arm. "No one blames you, mate. I mean, no one credits you either. Everyone just thinks they all died of despair when their master got killed."
Harry sat bolt upright, horror bursting inside his chest. "Snape?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged grim looks.
"Oh, god..." Snape shouldn't have died. Snape was a good Person. Snape had helped him. Snape had gone through enough, and he--
"He's over there," Ron said finally, his voice low.
Harry looked where Ron nodded. In a bed across the way was a still and silent body. "Oh..." Harry's next breath stuttered. "I didn't mean..."
"Harry. It's not your fault." Ron squeezed his arm.
"Of course it's my fault!"
"It's their fault for taking the Marks in the first place. Bloody idiots."
"You don't understand!" Harry sat up and glared at Ron, trying not to dissolve into grief. "Snape was different."
"I know Snape's different, that's not the bloody point. Snape's not even dead, is he? The rest of them, though, they weren't good. For anything."
"What?"
"Well, they weren't! Those Lestranges, and Parkinson, and the Malfoys. What were they ever--"
Hermione put a hand on Ron's arm to stop him. "Snape isn't dead, Harry. They found him when the aurors invaded Malfoy Manor. Draco Malfoy was dead, but Snape...survived. Somehow."
Harry stood up, pushing Ron's hand away and weaving for a moment before he got his strength back. He ignored Hermione's indrawn breath and 'Harry!' and made his shaky way to the bed.
His old professor, the bane of his existence for seven years, seemed too small lying there. Too helpless. Too still.
Harry stared at Snape until he saw the faint movement of breath puffing up his chest. Air rushed from him in relief.
"How is he?" Harry asked.
"Albus says he's a miracle." Hermione said. So she didn't know.
"And so he is," came a new voice, drawing Harry's attention. He straightened when he saw Albus coming in, followed quickly by Remus and Minerva McGonagall. Remus grinned to see him standing there, and Minerva wiped her eyes with the biggest smile Harry had ever seen on her face, and moved past all of them to grab Harry in a hug that caught him completely off guard.
"Thank Merlin for you, Harry," she said as she held him. "Thank Merlin."
Harry cleared his throat, patting her back awkwardly and smiling when she let him go. "You taught me everything I know, Professor," he said.
She laughed. "I wish I could take some kind of credit."
Remus joined them, grabbing Harry in another tight hug. "Are you alright?"
"Fine. Just relieved."
He laughed. "I'll bet you are. That's one tiny load off your shoulders."
"Miniscule. Right." Harry pulled back and grinned at his godfather.
Remus smiled back, looking younger than even the year Harry had first met him. "I'm so proud of you."
Harry's mouth stretched uncomfortably wide, and he looked away before the full affect of those words could hit him. He turned back to the bed they stood over. "Sir, what about Snape?"
Dumbledore moved past them to the bed, laying a paternal hand against Snape's forehead for a moment. "Severus is something of an enigma, I'm afraid."
"What else is new?" Ron said from behind Harry.
Albus nodded. "Indeed. Harry, you'll find this out soon enough, so I feel it only right to tell you myself..."
"All the Death Eaters died. Harry nodded.
Albus glanced at Ron and Hermione. "Indeed," he said again. "And I'd like to discuss that with you later, in private."
Harry nodded.
"The effect seemed to have been passed through the Mark, as even those who hadn't served him in years were affected. Most of those were in Azkaban, of course. And then Severus here. I am not entirely sure why he was not killed, to be honest. If I were to give my opinion, it was a mixture of things. The potion he took, for one."
"What potion?" Ron asked.
"Voldemort tortured him." It was Remus who answered, his eyes on Snape. "Through the Mark. That's why he left here, I've learned. He couldn't work. He couldn't even live. Until he found the potions that could control it, he couldn't think of anything else."
Harry frowned. "I didn't know that."
"Unfortunately, he told none of us." Albus sighed. "His potion to battle the effects was perfected over time, and it was meant to dull any affects from the Mark. It was, apparently, affective."
"You said a mixture of things?"
Albus reached down and tugged at a chain, bringing up a small round pendant from under the sheet covering Snape. Two pendants now, Harry saw with a pang in his stomach. He had seen them before. Snape must have taken Seamus's from his body.
"Merlin only knows where Severus got his hands on these. I can imagine they were passed down his family line. They are immensely powerful, and have the potential to be dangerous. Snape wore one, and I believe Seamus wore the other."
Harry nodded without thinking.
Albus went on. "These are very much illegal, but of course that wouldn't have stopped Severus. The necklaces are charmed very heavily to link two wearers. A sort of empathy can be shared. If great focus is put out, sometimes thoughts can be shared between wearers. Severus, I believe wove a sort of protective charm into Seamus's necklace once the boy was returned to us. And when he took the chain to wear it himself, the protection passed back to him. It aided, I have no doubt."
Hermione smiled, her eyes bright. "Then Seamus saved him, in a manner of speaking. I think he'd be happy to know that."
"Indeed." Albus drew in a breath and let the chains rest on the sheet. "And the third factor, I believe, was Severus himself. His will to live is very great, and he is not an easy man to break."
"No." Seamus smiled faintly.
Albus looked to Severus. "Unfortunately, all I can tell you is that he did survive. He is in a rest so deep that I can't even see into his mind. Whether it is temporary or permanent..." He shook his head, the twinkle in his eye fading. "I'm afraid I simply don't know."
Harry's scar faded.
It happened over a matter of days, so slowly that hardly anyone noticed. One day Remus simply stared at him longer than usual, brushed his hair aside, and smiled so broadly his face looked lopsided. "Well."
Harry couldn't say he wasn't glad. As a battle scar it was something to be proud of, perhaps, but for practical purposes all it was good for was drawing a crowd. He didn't look very different without it, but when he was out in Diagon Alley he found that as long as he kept his hair pulled back and his forehead showing, one quick glance insured people that he was no one very special at all. Harry Potter was the boy with the scar. Without it, he was just another person.
The relief he felt only inflated his already elevated moods.
He came to figure out the thing that had seemed so odd to him when he awoke in the hospital wing of Hogwarts after killing Voldemort. It took days of cracking his spine and rolling his shoulders and walking oddly for him to realise. He never told anyone about it, because it seemed too balmy to mention out loud to anyone, but...
A weight on his shoulders and chest, one that he had never felt because it had always been there, was gone. He was lighter, not only in mood but physically. He breathed easier. He walked taller. He smiled more.
Ron noticed it first, and Remus. But he couldn't explain it, so he let them credit it to simple relief over Voldemort being gone. He thought it was more, though.
Voldemort had been connected to him through his scar, though he had only used that link to invade his dreams from time to time. It had joined them. He felt pain when Voldemort was angry, and triumph when he was happy. But even in their resting moments he had carried the weight of Voldemort with him.
And now it was gone.
Seamus was buried in a small plot near a small cottage in Ireland. Albus insisted it was his home, though Snape couldn't be asked. It was a beautiful place, and Harry had felt right about leaving Seamus there. The only real sorrow, besides that felt for Seamus himself, was that Snape wasn't there to see it.
But it was nice, and he felt better when it was done. He felt like Seamus was happy there, and he knew he would go back someday to pay respects.
Harry stayed at Hogwarts for a while, ignoring the Prophet and counting the days until the term would start and his haven would be invaded. He visited Snape, who was in his rooms in the dungeon being taken care of by a tireless Poddy. He heard himself talking to the unconscious form now and then. Aimless talk, whenever there wasn't anyone else visiting. Things Snape would no doubt mock him for chattering on about.
He spent time with Ron and Hermione - they stayed, leaving the school only to work.
Aurors had a lighter load, simply tracking down sympathisers of Voldemort who had never been Marked. And doing other duties that they'd let slide in the war. Police work of a simpler kind.
Dung Fletcher was arrested twice.
Remus was there as well, preparing for the start of the new term. Dom, whose oddness Harry had rapidly gotten used to, remained a more faithful companion to him than Harry had feared. He had even begun talking about filling in the vacant groundskeeper position that Hagrid's death had left.
He was an odd man, and a blunt and unlearned man to be with Remus, but as the days went on his gazes grew fonder and more protective. Remus smiled and laughed easier, and blushed less.
Harry was happy for his godfather. Sirius Black was a hard memory to leave behind, but it was past time for Remus to find happiness in the world around him.
Ron and Hermione had finally set a date for their wedding, and Harry made a joke of refusing to be the best man out of a humble need to not steal their spotlight. Ron literally had to sit on him and shout before Harry admitted it was a joke.
Dobby returned from his overlong and much enjoyed vacation. It turned out he had rented his services out to a member of the Wizengamut's family, so it was a working holiday. No one was surprised to hear it. Dobby of course laid claim to Harry's care, letting Poddy devoted his time to Snape. The helpful house elf was in the quarters every time Harry paid Snape a visit. He seemed distraught that his magic couldn't end the charm holding Severus in the sleep he was trapped in.
Apparently the day Snape's eyes had opened Poddy's cheer could be heard through the entire castle. Harry had missed it, being outside on the pitch.
He still wanted to travel. He had more than enough money left in his vault, and the world was big and open and waiting for him. He thought he'd go right away, but as the end of summer rolled around he was too glad to have a pitch to fly around, too curious about Remus and his gypsy werewolf lover, too interested in getting to know a non-adversarial Severus Snape, too glad to be there when his best friends became permanently joined, and altogether too busy enjoying the feeling of a family of his own to really think of leaving.
Love, he had come to learn, might very well be the strongest emotion in existence. It was a mixed blessing, tying him where he was and making him face things he'd thought were better left behind. But he thought most of the time that whatever came of it, he was going to enjoy every second of it.
But school started and lives went on, and he packed his bags and decided on a first destination.
He really only asked Snape to come with him in order to see the expression on the man's face. But according to everyone there to witness it, his own expression when Snape actually said yes was far more amusing.