Ch 3

They remained that way for a couple hours. Snape's touch regulating Harry's breathing with the brush of his hand along the boy's spine while Harry continued to hold onto Snape's hand only loosening his grip when the tremors began to abate.

"Harry…"

"You did that on purpose…didn't you?" Harry finally opened his eyes and looked sideways at Snape.

"Yes, I did…"

Harry looked away, "You've been unbearable so you could watch me crumble?"

"No…" Snape reached up and directed Harry's attention back to himself, his hand softly holding Harry's chin in his hand. "It does not do to hold fast to the pain, Harry. Permitting yourself to grieve would release you from the void you were creating inside yourself as you allowed the pain to away eat at you, fester, and drown you further and further into depression."

"I wasn't depressed…" Harry started to argue.

"It does not take a genius to see you blamed yourself for Mr. Diggory's death, as well as Black's."

Harry looked down fighting against the grip on his chin that once again maneuvered his gaze back up to Snape. Harry's eyes once again glittered with tears fighting for escape from their prison.

"I could see it in your eyes every day, their deaths eating away at your soul, and after that night a darker sin weighed on your conscience, for you had taken another life, but this time on purpose. The Dark Lord's blood you shed by your own hand stained your morality, stripping you of your innocence. You have been haunted by that night without any reprieve since you witnessed his death. You torture yourself over that fiend because you cannot find any rationale to legitimize your crime."

"How do you know?"

Snape let go of Harry's face trailing his fingers down his neck. Harry shivered at the gentle touch. "Because I myself am still haunted by my first victim. I wake up every morning to his begging and pleading, and I fall asleep each night with his lifeless blue eyes staring up at me. That was over twenty years ago and I still have not come to terms with all I have done The Dark Lord does not deserve that reverence, not from you, not from anyone…"

"But I still hear his screams…I still see his body…melt…"

"…and you will for a long, long time. Nothing will ever be able to wash away your memory of his death. All you can do is guard against your own guilt….and…If it's any consolation, your curse did not cause that reaction."

Harry met Snape's black eyes and for once they weren't just inky, black pools of nothing. Concern was clearly etched in the features of Snape's face. The hand fell away from his neck and Harry caught it once again in his own. He traced a scar he never noticed before engraved in the juncture between the thumb and forefinger.

"Can you stand?"

"I don't think I want to."

"Come on." Snape wiggled his hand out of Harry's and hauled him up by his shoulders. Harry was a little unsteady on his feet at first but Snape held him up until he was satisfied Harry's knees wouldn't buckle again.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel dizzy…"

"How do you feel inside?" Snape specified, tapping his finger against Harry's chest right over his heart…

Harry thought about it for a minute, taking a deep breath, sucking in a big gulp of air and letting it out in a whoosh.

"I feel…relieved… like a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders…"

Snape nodded and moved away to clean up the mess Harry had caused, that is when he saw his hand was covered in dry blood.

"You're bleeding," he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, right." Harry had completely forgotten about his hands. He held them up for Snape to be able see the deep gashes that graced his palms.

"One usually slices the wrists, not their hands."

"What? No…I…the brushes…they slipped…I didn't do it on purpose…"

"I see…" Snape held the heavy, oak door open. "Follow me."

"Where are we going?"

"Does it matter?" Snape glared at him. He led them down the hall and opened the door to his office ushering Harry in.

"Take a seat," he said, pointing to one of the chairs situated around a table. Harry sat without question as he watched Snape filter through a cabinet. He could hear vials clinking together as Snape searched for what he needed. He came back and sat next to Harry on one of the other seats as he set two vials on the table.

"Give me your hand," he commanded holding his out for Harry. Harry scooted the chair closer and let Snape take his hand spreading his fingers out before letting it rest on Snape's knee. He wet a cloth with one of the potions liquid contents and pressed the cloth to the wound on Harry's left hand.

Harry yelled in protest against the stinging, the pain momentarily paralyzing his hand.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! That hurts!" He tried to pull his hand away but Snape wrapped his hand around Harry's wrist and pressed his palm even harder against the injured hand.

Snape gave Harry an exasperated look before rolling his eyes at him. "You are supposed to apply pressure to the open wound when using this healing solution."

"Great. Just great…Is it supposed to burn like that?" He asked once again trying to shake off the force of pressure weighing on his palm.

"Yes, that means it is working."

"Figures."

Snape smirked at him. "Have you always cleaned using the brushes inside out, or were you just a glutton for punishment?"

"Inside out?"

"Yes. There is a protective handle on the wire brushes that keeps your hands from getting sliced by the wires."

"Oh…" Harry's face burned red in embarrassment. "I didn't know that."

"Obviously." Snape finished wrapping gauze around Harry's hand before moving to give the other one the same treatment.

"So, all that stuff you've been saying to me…every time you ignored me since you woke up…that was to get me to hate you?"

Snape paused staring down at Harry's hand. "I was trying to help you. You needed to accept what had happened and I did not know what else to do."

"You could have just acknowledged my existence and sat me down to talk."

"I could have, I guess. I just figured you would have ignored my advice. I needed a way to break your emotional barrier and the only thing stronger than depression is anger. I used your anger and hatred against me as a catalyst."

When Snape was done with his other hand Harry pulled both his hands back into his own lap and stared down at the wrappings.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"No…Not just for tonight, for everything. I couldn't have done what you did. That curse…I don't think I would have been strong enough mentally to do it."

"The plan initially was for you to cast the original version of the curse yourself."

Harry blanched at the admission.

"That is what the Headmaster believes I taught you; not the killing curse used today. Him and everyone else involved in The Order of the Phoenix believe you cast the Morte Severa yourself."

"But you were in the hospital longer than I was…how can they not know it was you? Your magic…"

"My magical exhaustion was attributed to the effects of the Dark Mark, nothing more. All the Death Eaters were incapacitated when the Dark Lord succumbed to the curse."

Harry slumped over cradling his head in his hands. "I don't believe this."

"I found it unwise to subject you to such a fate without your complete understanding of the consequences. You should never have been privy to such evil, not at your age, and if I could spare you that experience I would have. So I devised a way to detach the two basic elements of the original curse in order to cast them simultaneously, but separately. While you cast the killing curse, it was my job to perform the second half with you, keeping the incantations separate, each of us casting a different curse yet still yielding the same result as the original spell had intended."

"I remember someone grabbing me at that last moment as I spoke the curse in my mind…I didn't know it was you at first…I remember a surge of energy shooting through my body, I remember the white light, his screams, my head exploding in agony, but above all I remember you being wrenched from me in that last second before everything went dark."

"The energy surge you felt was my power transferring into you, blending with your magical aura. I fed you my own magical signature; otherwise I could not have cast the curse along with you, using your wand if I hadn't. It succeeded in doubling the force of the curse."

"No one knows, do they?"

Snape shook his head, "…and that is how it is going to stay…"

"But without you…"

"I am a Death Eater, Harry. The Daily Prophet does not want to hear about the machinations of a dark wizard. Nor would they understand the ingenuity of using evil to kill evil. A 'Society must stop at nothing to rid itself of evil,' as was once said. How do you think the public would take it if they found out you used primitive Dark Magic taught to you by a dark wizard?"

"It doesn't seem fair. You've done so much…

"Give me your acknowledgement. Give me your appreciation for my sacrifices. I need nothing more. No public displays of retribution and such but don't expect the our world to fall at my feet in thanks if word of this ever got out."

Harry nodded his head and stood up stepping up right next to the man seated and stuck out his right hand, open and inviting. Snape frowned in confusion and stood up. Harry had grown quite a bit in the last year and a half. He was only a few inches shorter than Snape now, his eyes level with Snape's mouth. Snape took Harry's hand firmly in his own as Harry in turn flexed his fingers over Snape's. As they shook hands, a peculiar bond was formed. They didn't say anything more; nothing more needed to be said. An understanding was produced by their trust and respect for each other. Harry left Professor Snape's office to a new world waiting beyond the dungeon steps. As he climbed his way up to his tower he couldn't help but wonder what it all meant.

Shorter I know…It just seemed fitting to pause it there…he he…Read and Review please! The more input I get the more inclination I have to write…