A/N: Harry Potter one-shot. Please enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters belong to JK Rowling.
A Single Moment
At number four privet drive, a very angry teenager paced back and forth in his bedroom. He kicked the post at the end of his bed, forgetting he wasn't wearing shoes, he started hopping up and down due to the throbbing pain in his big toe. Finally he cursed silently and fell back onto his bed with a heavy sigh. His name is Harry Potter.
It had been a week since his most hated professor used the killing curse to kill the headmaster right in front of him and he was still seething about it. He had ran after him shouting spell after spell with no effect. Why wouldn't he fire back? Was his constant thought over the week. With no answer coming to mind he had no choice but to just speculate and form theory upon theory. His friends would be of no help and he couldn't ask his aunt and uncle, heaven forbid he ever talk about magic, their anger would shake the mountains. No, he was better off staying in his room and keeping his thoughts to himself.
The one thing he kept seeing was the look Snape gave him through the floorboard of the Astronomy Tower before he killed Professor Dumbledore. Why did he give me such a calculating look? He thought. Maybe he was deciding whether or not to kill him in front of his young nemesis, or perhaps he just didn't care and wanted to see him have a mental breakdown and suffer. Either way he had to know what Snape was thinking otherwise it would distract him from his main goal of finding and destroying the remaining horcruxes.
Thinking back over the last year he spent in the company of Albus Dumbledore, he wondered about his blackened hand. What could have caused such decay to human flesh? He didn't know much about posions or curses but that was the only conclusion that Harry could come up with, was that Dumbledore had either bee cursed or poisoned. But was it temporary or fatal? There were only two people who could answer that question, one of them was dead and the other one killed him. Great, just great. I'm getting nowhere with this, but I should continue this line of thinking, it might lead me somewhere, hopefully to the truth, Harry thought as he rolled onto his stomach putting his arms under his chin.
He had to think about think about this logically. What would Snape gain by killing Dumbledore? That's obvious, he would become Voldemort's most trusted and loyal deatheater, he mused. But Harry knew that it would also make Snape the most feared dark wizard in the world for killing such a powerful light wizard. Dumbledore had trusted Snape for years, Harry knew that he would have been aware if Snape harboured suck ill-will towards him, after all Albus Dumbledore knew everything that went on around him. Nobody could keep a secret like that from him.
Getting up from his position on the bed he walked over to his desk, grabbed his chair and moved it to the window. Sitting down in front of his window and looking up at the stars he began to contemplate everything that Snape had done over the six years that Harry had spent at Hogwarts.
His first year was very memorable. Who in their right mind could forget how Voldemort latched onto Professor Quirell and had attempted and failed to acquire the Philosopher's Stone thanks to himself with the help of his best friends, Ron and Hermione? But what Snape had done had also not been forgotten. He tried to save me, Harry thought. Of course I thought he was the one cursing my broom in the first place. He had also tried to stop Voldemort from getting the stone, almost having his leg ripped off by Fluffy in the process. Leaning back in his chair he wondered if he did all that on just the headmasters orders or because he wanted to protect a child under his care.
His second year was horrible. Ginny almost dying, himself being poisoned with a basilisk tooth and almost dying, but was saved by Fawkes at the last moment. He would forever hate Lucius Malfoy for giving that cursed diary to a little girl. That was also the year they had Professor Lockhart for a teacher. He was nothing more than a lier and a thief, stealing people's adventures and heroism and claiming them as his own. Having no idea about defence against the dark arts, no one learned anything under his tutelage, he was a coward who would let young children die than admit his short-comings. Snape despised him, but then again every teacher and student did, except a few, like Hermione who had a crush on him. That thought is still disgusting, he thought with a visible flinch and shudder. Thinking about it, Snape would have probably chosen to kill that particular teacher rather than the headmaster, however Lockhart will remain in Saint Mungos for the rest of his pathetic cowardly life.
His third year, the year his godfather Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban prison. He had believed the stories that his godfather was a mass murderer, all because he truly thought that adults were always right. However everyone had been wrong. Sirius Black was an innocent man who served thirteen years in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit. So much for the justice system, he sneered with distain. This was also the year that Remus Lupin became the defence against the dark arts professor. He had learned that Remus and Sirius had been friends with his dad and enemies with Snape. Of course there was also Peter Pettigrew who was friends with his dad as we'll, the person who had been the true betrayer as the Potter's secret keeper. Harry hated that foul rat with a passion. Remembering that Remus had turned into a werewolf in front of him, Snape didn't hesitate to place himself in front of himself, Ron and Hermione to protect them from a dangerous creature. Once again he had saved my life, he thought.
The tri-wizard tournament. For as long as he lived, which could be for a hundred years, he would never forget one of the worst and the hardest years of his time at Hogwarts. The first task had been to collect a golden egg that was protected by a Hungarian Horntail, the most dangerous dragon of it's species. He had been terrified but had managed to do it. The second task was to recover a lost friend. Easy enough. He almost died doing it, but it was still the easiest task of the whole tournament. The third and final task. The maze. In all it's mysterious and creepy glory. Again he managed to complete it. What he hadn't expected was that when Cedric and he touched the cup that it would transport them elsewhere. They were not told about it being a portkey or that moments later Cedric would be lying motionless on the cold, hard ground having been hit with the killing curse. With the help of Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort had arisen from the dead. After a short battle, which he had managed to hold out before escaping, he had returned to the Hogwarts grounds with the body of Cedric Diggery. Harry remembered that after his name had come out of the goblet of fire, Snape had actually taken his side. But rules are rules and I had to compete, he seethed.
Umbridge. The only name he thought of associated with his fifth year. The evil, pink toad do a defence Professor who had him carve I will not tell lies into the back of his hand with an illegal blood quill. Every student and professor hated the ground she walked on. But there was another reason he hated that year. That was the year he lost his godfather in the department of mysteries at the ministry of magic. Watching him fall through that veil almost destroyed him. The last remaining member of his family he had. Snape had appeared not to care, but he had alerted the orders of the phoenix of what Harry had said to him, right before she almost used an unforgivable curse to cause him excruciating pain. Snape had also tried to help him with occlumency, which didn't work very well, but he had tried. Of course as a result of everything that happened at the ministry, the wizarding world now knew the truth. Voldemort was back and was likely to kill anyone who got in his way to power, Harry Potter included.
Now the year that Snape would kill the headmaster and his mentor, Albus Dumbledore. Snape had not been his usual cruel self, making Harry believe that perhaps he had too much on his mind, maybe the fact that he was going to try and kill such a powerful and imposing figure of a man. Thinking back to the Astronomy Tower, the way Snape had glanced at him and the way Dumbledore pleaded, Harry wondered what he had pleaded for. Could it have been for his life? Or could it have been for the act itself? After the murder he had chased Snape through the castle and onto the grounds where he shot spell after spell. Snape only deflected the spells but refused to fire back. He had appeared to still be teaching him, like he wanted him to learn, to think clearly. That is what he was doing now. It had finally hit him like a ton of bricks. Dumbledores cursed hand was probably going to kill him so he must have asked Snape to do it because if he didn't then Draco Malfoy would. That could easily destroy any child, to kill someone at such a young age. Malfoy had already tried multiple times and it had worn him down to the point of making him appear ill. Harry believed he now knew the truth and decided it was time to let Snape know that he understood why he did it.
Getting up from his spot at the window, he moved his chair back over to the desk, grabbed some parchment and a quill, sat down and started a long overdue letter to the professor he had always hated, but now hoped that perhaps they could make amends.
Professor Snape,
I hope Hedwig finds you safely, as I have no idea where you live. I know you never believed you would ever hear from me unless I had planned to attack you over the death of the headmaster. However, after careful thought and processing everything that happened, I believe that Dumbledore was perhaps already dying and had asked that you take pity on him and let him die while he was still able to stand on his own two feet. I hope I am right in assuming you are still Dumbledores man through and through, as I am and always will be. I know we have never seen eye to eye, but I hope we can make amends in the future and perhaps even become friends. There is a lot you could teach me, as I would love the opportunity to become a potions master like you,.
I will await your response.
Regards,
Harry Potter
Letting Hedwig out of her cage, he handed her the letter saying, "please hurry girl, get this to Professor Snape as quickly as possible and don't leave him until you get a response," she chirped in acknowledgment before flying out of the window and out of sight. Harry knew that she probably wouldn't be back until tomorrow, so he decided that going to sleep was a good idea. Hw would worry about what Snape had to say in the morning. Yawning loudly and stretching out his sore back muscles from sitting too long, he got into bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Harry woke to the feeling of pressure on his back. Looking over his shoulder groggily he saw a white blur that he knew was Hedwig. Getting up and putting on his glasses which had called off when he fell asleep, he noticed that she carried a letter for him. It was the reply from Snape that he had been equally hoping for and dreading. Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants he took the parchment from her and went to sit at his desk before carefully opening the letter.
Thank you for your correspondance. You are correct Mr Potter, I had not expected anything from you, except perhaps anger, loathing and distain. However, you are also correct in your assumption of my role in the headmasters death. He was already dying due to the curse that was slowly invading his bloodstream and had asked that I finish it for him. As for the future you mentioned, perhaps we shall discuss it in further detail when this horrendous war is finally over. I do hope that you will work harder at potions than you did at occlumency.
Regards,
Prof. S. Snape
Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. So I was right, he thought. Snape may have been guilty but not of murder, but of assisted suicide that was to look like murder in front of the deatheaters. Harry came to the realisation that all it took was a single moment. A single whispered plea from the victim. A single glance from the guilty. And one single little moment for Harry Potter to realise that not everything is as it seems. It would play a vital role in this war. He now knew that Severus Snape was no coward. Severus Snape would become the bravest man he had even known.
