Chapter 28

"I took your memories to the pensieve in Dumbledore's office." Harry went on as though there had been no break in his storytelling. "Really it just confirmed what I already knew deep down. I was going to have to die."

"Why? Why did Albus put so much stock in a prophecy?"

Harry smiled, just a little. "Haven't you put it together yet, Sir? Riddle was making Horcruxes, breaking his soul into pieces. Then he tried to kill me and my mum's sacrifice made the spell rebound. Maybe it was because his soul was already fractured or maybe that's just what happens when the killing curse backfires. Either way, Voldemort's soul was split once more. He inadvertently created another horcrux – me."

Severus thought he might be sick. He stood abruptly and began pacing across the small space behind his desk. He couldn't bear to think of what Harry was telling him. It disgusted him. He came to a sudden stop by one of his over-filled bookshelves, resting his hand on one of the shelves and leaning his weight against it as he turned his head sideways to glance at Potter.

"You were a horcrux?"

"Yeah," he answered, unfazed. "A piece of his soul lodged in me."

"Did Dumbledore know?"

Harry shrugged. "He'd probably tell you that it was only his suspicion, but yeah, he knew." He watched the Professor's reaction closely. There was no change in the man's expression but the quiet drumming of his fist against the bookshelf gave him away.

"This is why you sacrificed yourself to the Dark Lord."

The boy-saviour nodded. "That's what the prophecy meant, 'either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives'." Harry quoted, unable to forget those momentous lines. "While I still had the horcrux inside of me, Voldemort would remain immortal. It was the same reason we destroyed all the other horcruxes. I had to be destroyed as well."

Snape's fists clenched as though he were in physical pain and he spoke through gritted teeth. "Please do not speak about yourself like that again." He looked Harry in the eye. "You are not an object."

"Right." Harry agreed, a bit awkwardly. It didn't bother him to talk about the horcrux that had resided inside him, that's just how it was. "Um, Sir, would you mind sitting down?" Snape's tense stance was making him feel nervous.

Wearily the professor returned to his seat. Harry breathed a small relieved sigh.

"You met Neville on your way out of the castle."

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, voice strained but otherwise composed. "I was wearing my invisibility cloak because I didn't want anyone to see me, or stop me. It was hard enough to do without anyone trying to convince me otherwise." He admitted. "But I was worried about Nagini. If she was still alive then Voldemort would remain, so I told Neville to make sure the snake died."

"And he did."

"Yes, he did." Harry grinned, a stark contrast to the rest of their conversation. "Neville is bloody awesome." He paused a moment, then added quietly, "I saw Ginny too. I kept hidden but I so badly wanted to speak to her one last time."

Feeling as though he had revealed too much, a moment too intimate, Harry closed up a bit and moved on brusquely. "Anyway, I told you about going into the forest before."

"Not everything." Snape denied.

Harry sighed. "No, not everything." He supposed it was time to broach this subject with Snape. He'd told him everything else. He'd obviously made up his mind to trust him. "You remember when I told you about the Deathly Hallows?" He waited for Snape to nod. "Well, I already had one of them. My invisibility cloak was passed on to me from my dad. Then there was the resurrection stone. It was only when I was walking through the forest that I realised I had the stone. Dumbledore had hidden it in a Snitch that he left for me in his will."

"So you had the resurrection stone. Did you use it?"

"Yes." Harry admitted, voice tight once more.

"Who did you see?" Snape whispered, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Mum…" He paused as he saw Snape withdrawing his wand. With it, Severus summoned a crystal decanter of vintage scotch, gifted by Minerva at Christmas, and a matching tumbler. He poured himself a healthy measure and savoured the first sip.

Harry frowned at him. "Really? You're not going to share?"

Snape stared back at him for a long moment before conjuring a second glass with a flick of his wand.

Once Harry too had taken some more refreshment, he continued. "I saw Mum and Dad, and Sirius and Remus." He grasped his hands together in his lap to stop them shaking.

"What did she, they say?" Severus gripped his own glass tightly.

Harry took a moment to remember the words privately to himself. Tears began to fall unbidden from his eyes as he thought of the people who, at different points in his life, had been parents to him. He wiped the moisture away, but he no longer cared about being composed or keeping Snape out. They were irrefutably joined by grief in that moment.

"Mum…Mum said she was proud of me." His voice wavered. "That I had been brave. I told them I was sorry and I asked them to stay with me."

"Did they?"

Harry nodded, tears now falling without restraint. "Until the end."

With a trembling arm, Harry brought his glass of scotch to his lips, taking a big gulp in a vain attempt to soothe himself. "They weren't real though. They couldn't stay forever."

"Where is the stone now?" Snape asked.

Harry gave him a sharp look. "I got rid of it." He answered with deliberate vagueness. "It's not healthy to live with the dead like that. Dumbledore used to tell me that you can't dwell in dreams and forget to live."

Severus pondered that, taking another sip of scotch. It sounded like the kind of thing Albus would say. The wizened headmaster had said similar things to Severus on many an occasion.

"The rest is like I told you before." Potter continued. "I entered the clearing where Voldemort was waiting and he cast the killing curse at me."

"Did it hurt?"

"No." It wasn't difficult to talk about dying, it was just what had happened. Though he would not talk about seeing Professor Dumbledore. He wasn't sure how he could explain that experience to someone else, or if he even wanted to. It felt too personal.

"I told you before what happened next. Narcissa Malfoy lied to Voldemort and I was taken back up to the castle and then it was just down to me and Riddle."

"There's one thing I still don't understand." The Professor interjected. "You'd destroyed all of Voldemort's horcruxes, so the playing field was even in that respect. But you were still a teenager up against an incredibly powerful and experienced wizard."

"Yeah, so that comes back to the Deathly Hallows." Harry explained. "I had the cloak and the stone, but I didn't have the Elder Wand."

"Didn't the Dark Lord have it?"

"Right. He stole it from Dumbledore's grave, who had won it off Grindelwald. And that's why Riddle tried to kill you. He thought it wasn't working for him because you were the one who killed Dumbledore. Only you don't have to kill a person to transfer the ownership of the wand, you only need to disarm them in some way." Harry explained. "And it wasn't you who disarmed Professor Dumbledore…"

"It was Draco." Severus finished, a little stunned. "So, Draco was the master of the Elder Wand?"

"For a while, yes, though thank God he never knew it." Harry chuckled. "But when we were escaping Malfoy Manor, I took Draco's wand off of him. I didn't even disarm him, I just wrestled it out of his hand. So, technically, I was Master of the Elder Wand."

"How could you be sure?"

Harry shrugged. "I wasn't really. But then I didn't really have much to lose. If I wasn't Master of the Elder Wand then I still had about as much chance as anyone else. And if I died, the rest would just have to keep fighting him until he was gone."

"But you won." Severus said, in awe of the young man before him. "You survived."

"I survived." Harry smiled, eyes a little misty. Sometimes he wasn't sure if he could really put his finger on what it felt like to have ended the war; to have lived through it. It felt like relief and exhaustion and equal parts of pride and sorrow; joy and guilt.

"Nobody has ever said anything about this to me. Does anybody else know?"

"Hermione and Ron are the only people who know everything, and now you."

"You didn't tell the Ministry enquiry or the Auror department?"

Harry shook his head. "It's dangerous for people to know. I don't need a copy-cat dark lord. You know some psycho would head straight out to make a bunch of horcruxes or come after me for the Deathly Hallows. It's simpler to keep it just between us."

"Then why tell me?"

"I trust you." Harry shrugged. "And Ron said I needed to talk to someone about it before I go mental or something."

Severus was surprised, "I didn't think Mr Weasley liked me, let alone trusted me."

"No, he doesn't really." Harry agreed, bluntly. "But he knows I trust you, I guess he appreciates that."

Both were quiet for a moment as they drained their glasses, aware the night was over.

"Don't tell anyone I gave you scotch."

"Anyone?"

"Don't tell the Headmistress." Snape clarified and Harry laughed.

The Professor flicked his wand to clear the empty glasses away and in the same motion summoned a vial of Dreamless Sleep. He glanced at the clock; it was nearly 2 am.

"This will knock you out for a good 8 hours, so I'll clear you from morning lessons."

"Oh, that's okay, Sir, I'm alright." Harry left the vial on the desk.

"It's not optional, Potter." Snape said firmly. "I don't want to see you in classes tomorrow morning. You need to rest." Potter didn't look convinced, so Severus continued more gently. "It's very late. You only have Transfiguration in the morning, you can afford to miss one lesson. I will ensure your absence is excused."

"Fine." Harry relented and swiped the potion, tucking it safely into his pocket as he stood to leave. "Night, Sir."

"Goodnight. And thank you, Harry, for trusting me."

Harry didn't take the potion.

When they had decided to carry on into the night, Harry had sent a message through their coins telling Ron and Hermione not to wait up for him, so they had already gone to sleep when he eventually returned to the dorms. Harry figured they would be pretty worried if he didn't wake up in the morning. Plus, he didn't like to draw unnecessary attention to himself and he was pretty sure that if he missed morning lessons that people would be asking him why and what was wrong. Then there was his morning routine of practising with his new magic, which he hadn't missed since his mishap in Charms.

He figured he could make do with just a few hours of sleep. He'd done it before. Only those few hours of sleep were disturbed by dreams filled with the faces of those who had died for him and in the end he gave up and laid still in his bed until it was time for him to get up.

Since he didn't have Defence that morning, Harry didn't see why Professor Snape had to know that he had ignored the man's instructions. Upon his return form the Room of Requirement, he suggested they eat breakfast in their dorm and then they made their way to Transfiguration.

Charlie seemed surprised when they walked into the Transfiguration classroom. "Harry, I wasn't expecting to see you." The long-haired Professor said discreetly. "Professor Snape said you wouldn't be in this morning."

Harry paused on the way to his seat, glad they were some of the first to arrive. "Oh, must be a misunderstanding, Professor. I'm fine." Harry smiled but Charlie didn't seem convinced; probably because of the dark circles under his eyes and his generally bleak expression.

Harry was fortunate that the lesson was mostly theory; an opportunity for Professor Weasley to explain the reading material and for the students to ask questions. For Harry it was a chance for his mind to wander. Try as he might to focus, he was simply too tired and too distracted to concentrate on the lesson. Deciding he would have to ask Hermione to share her notes, Harry gave up, allowing his mind to dwell on the events of war that he had relived with Snape the night before.

"Harry." Hermione hissed at him, snapping him back to the present. Looking around he realised that people were packing up and leaving. The lesson had ended and Harry hadn't even noticed. Shit, he really was tired.

"Alright, mate?" Ron looked at him curiously, passing Harry his bag so he could start packing up his unused parchment and quill.

"Yeah," Harry blinked, starting to move. "Just had a late night."

Ron nodded and the trio left, making their way to the Arithmancy classroom where they left Hermione. Usually, when Hermione was engaged in her additional classes, the boys headed to the library so they could keep afloat of their extensive NEWT workload. Today, however, Ron suggested they return to the dorms, which turned out to be empty.

For awhile they studied at the large mahogany table, or rather Ron studied and Harry pretended to. He stared down at his Transfiguration book, not seeing lines of words but the lines of bodies of his dead friends and mentors.

"You wanna talk about it?" Ron interrupted his dark thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Mate, you've been on the same page for the last forty minutes."

"Oh, right." His friend had become a lot more observant since dating Hermione.

"What time did you get back last night?"

"About 2.30."

Ron whistled. "That's a long time talking to Snape."

"Yep."

"You tell him about everything that happened last year?"

"Pretty much."

Ron nodded. "Guess that explains why you look like shit then."

Harry laughed, "Basically."

Ron didn't need to say anything else, but he was glad his best friend was talking to someone, even if that person had to be Snape. Instead of talking more he dumped a bag of chocolates on the table between them. Because Ron knew his best mate, and sometimes Harry needed to talk and sometimes he just needed chocolate.

They met up with Hermione in the Great Hall for lunch. Harry figured by this point he would be fine to run into Snape who had only expected him to skip morning lessons. Although, as he looked up at the staff table and saw Professor Snape sitting next to Professor Weasley, Harry wondered if he hadn't really thought it all the way through.

It wasn't long, in fact, before Charlie brought up the 'boy-who-lived' with the 'spy-who-saved'. "Turns out I had Harry in my class this morning after all."

Severus chewed slowly, merely raising an eyebrow of interest. "Really?"

Charlie nodded, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "Although I don't think he should have been." The red-head commented. "He looks bloody knackered and you could tell he wasn't taking anything in."

"Did you speak with him?"

"I assumed as you'd told me he wouldn't be in that you are already on top of this one, Professor, although I'm happy to take it up with him if you want me to."

"No, I will check in with him. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"No problem." Charlie responded easily. "You think he's okay?"

Severus eyed Potter critically, noting his weary expression and drooping posture. "We were speaking until very late last night about the events of the final battle. His reaction today is only to be expected." As he spoke, Potter looked up, catching his eye and suddenly looking rather guilty. "Which is why I had instructed him to rest this morning."

The Deputy finished his lunch while maintaining his glare at Potter, an art he had long since perfected, and then rose from his chair with as much dramatic flair as he could manage.

"Excuse me." He bid Weasley and stalked down to the Gryffindor table.

"Potter." He said as greeting. "A word." He swooped away, assuming, correctly, that Potter would follow.

"Sir?" Harry asked as Snape pulled him into a disused classroom.

Severus grasped the boy's chin, forcing him to make eye contact and scrutinizing his drained expression.

"Tired, Potter?"

"Er…"

"Do not lie, I have already spoken to Professor Weasley." He snapped, releasing Harry's jaw. "I thought I had made myself clear, Mr Potter."

The Gryffindor at least had the decency to look guilty. "I thought Ron and Hermione would worry if I wasn't up.

Severus growled, disbelieving. "You couldn't have left them a note?"

"Sorry, Sir."

The Professor sighed. Harry was closing his eyes wearily and seemed to be swaying slightly on his feet.

Searching through the magically enlarged pockets of his cloak, he located a vial which he dangled in front of Potter's face.

Harry blinked at it, trying to focus on the label.

"Drink it."

"I'm fine…"

"Drink it." Severus snapped, his already limited patience waning. "It's a Pepper Up; my own recipe. It will keep you going for the next 8 hours but once it runs out you will crash hard, so you may want to ensure you are somewhere near a bed by that point."

Harry drank the potion obediently, pleasantly surprised by the slightly spicy taste. "Thanks, Sir."

"You're welcome." Reassured that the young man would make it through the rest of his day, the professor's anger had abated. "Do you need to talk to me about anything?"

"Nope." Harry popped his lips, feeling perky from the potion.

"Very well. Come and see me if that changes or if you experience any unusual side effects from the potion."

"Yes, Sir."

Severus sighed again, shaking his head, exasperated. "Clear off, Potter." He opened the door.

"Yes, Sir." Potter saluted and off he went.