Fred was taken off to St. Mungo's almost instantly when the battle ended, Andromeda Tonks came to help her daughter take care of Remus's body, and Harry found himself by default the unwilling guardian of an injured vampire/former Death Eater/spy. He'd yelled the man's innocence to everyone that would listen to him, but no one wanted to listen; they wanted to celebrate, mourn, and take revenge on the remaining Death Eaters, and that didn't leave much room to listen to one's innocence, even if it were the Savior of the Wizarding World who was telling the story. He finally got Severus Snape to St. Mungo's and (after many headaches and much trouble) vetted a healer that seemed professional enough to not harm their patient and actually try to heal him. He'd also made the man swear a confidentiality oath before he quietly shared his suspicions as to Snape's creature status and handed off his care.
It had been a long day. Frankly, Harry wasn't sure if it could even be counted as a day. He didn't remember the last time he'd slept or ate, and he'd lost track of Ron and Hermione in the craziness of St. Mungo's. He used the last of his energy to send a vague patronus (after several frustrating attempts before it appeared) to Ron saying he was off to see Kreacher so if Ron were around anyone it wouldn't give away his location, then he apparated directly to Grimmauld Place and collapsed onto the sofa in the sitting room.
When Harry finally blinked awake again, his first thought was that it was surprisingly dark, and his second was to jump and draw his wand (which turned out to be two wands in his hand to his surprise, having forgotten about the elder wand) at the large pair of eyes that swam into his vision. "Merlin, Kreacher! I almost cursed you!" Harry caught himself in just enough time to reign in his overactive fight response.
"Kreacher thinks Master Harry smells different," the house elf remarked dryly with a suspicious and concerned tilt of his head.
"I probably smell like death," Harry chuckled with no humor in his tone. He hadn't bothered to shower or eat, and he was feeling the desperate need for both. "I thought you were at Hogwarts."
"Master Harry is at Grimmauld," Kreacher responded as if that were an answer.
The teen felt like…well, he felt like he'd died and come back to life, then gotten hit by a bus. And where were his clothes! He was thankful that it looked like Kreacher had thrown a blanket over him, but he wasn't wearing anything at all under the blanket. It was then he remembered that his clothes had been conjured, and it was the type of spell that would have worn off as he slept.
"Er…sorry I wasn't wearing anything," he blushed while pulling the blanket around his middle to stand and head to the shower, realizing as he did so that Kreacher couldn't have missed the fact that he had snake scales down his sides.
The elf shrugged in unconcern. "Kreacher has walked in on much stranger things…would Master Harry like to shower while Kreacher cooks?"
"That'd be lovely," Harry sighed, realizing that he had blood splattered on his arms and in his hair and in many other places too. He figured it was probably mostly Snape's but also random Death Eater as well as his own in the mix. "How long was I asleep?" He asked, feeling disoriented in the dark.
"Fifteen hours," Kreacher gave him a little shove towards the stairs before heading to the kitchen. "An owl left a letter from Master Harry's friends, which you can read after your shower."
Ron and Hermione knew where he was, they would either have sent a patronus or barged in if it were pressing, Harry decided. The war was over, he could take a minute to shower, so he followed Kreacher's advice and stumbled up the stairs and into the shower, almost collapsing at the heavenly feel of warm water washing over him and taking away the pain and horrors of the battle. He couldn't believe it was finally over. It had felt like it never would be.
Harry refused to look in the mirror until he emerged from the shower. He wiped the steam off before grimacing at the face looking back at him. He'd never been heavy, thanks to both genetics and the Dursleys he figured, but he looked skeletal now. He had deep purple circles under his eyes that seemed to set off the unnatural sheen of the green even more. He was also much paler than normal, even if he had been outside and camping, he had been bundled up and trying to stay hidden, so the green scales stood out prominently against his pale skin now too. His hair was a lost cause…well, it had always been, but now he figured he should just try to cut it all off and start over. Hermione had been terrible at haircuts, a barber she was not.
Thankfully, in their hurry to escape after their ministry break-in, Harry and his friends had left some clothes at Grimmauld that Kreacher had been laundering at the time, so a clean set of clothes was waiting on him by the sink. Harry smiled at Kreacher's thoughtfulness and quickly changed to get some food. He felt human…or as close as he was anyway, once more when he finally entered the kitchen where Kreacher was dishing up what smelled like a delicious stew.
"You are an angel, Kreacher," he grinned thankfully before shoveling too hot stew into his mouth, but not feeling the burn at all.
"Master Harry needs to eat more. He did not take care of himself when he didn't have his Kreacher," Kreacher scolded as he placed a plate of crusty bread on the table in front of him. "Kreacher noticed Master Harry's scales the first time he returned to Grimmauld…and earlier in the sitting room. Kreacher wonders if Master Harry needs a special diet? Should Kreacher make different food?"
Harry didn't really know the answer to that. He hadn't been craving anything snake or bird-like…like small rodents or anything. He'd just figured human food was still good. "I think I'm fine Kreacher, but thank you for asking."
He nodded. "Kreacher will keep an eye on the master. He will make sure you's healthy now that you is home."
Harry sighed and put his spoon down for a second. "Kreacher, I'm going to have to give you an order, I'm so sorry."
Kreacher cocked his head questioningly. "Kreacher is a house elf. Master Harry is supposed to give him orders."
"Er…well, I don't really like telling you to do things…but this is necessary." Kreacher nodded and looked at Harry attentively, waiting for whatever he wanted. Harry felt so bad. He heard Hermione yelling at him in the back of his mind, but he tried to push it down. This was important. "Kreacher…I order you not to tell anyone anything about me being less-than-human. You will keep secret anything about me that is personal as well. There will be people wanting to know this…there's the press and the Death Eaters that weren't captured still out there."
Kreacher scoffed and turned to stir the remaining stew on the stove. "Kreacher never reveals masters' secrets. Kreacher is a good elf."
Harry nodded his head but just opened the letter from Hermione. As he thought, it was only them acknowledging that they got his message and that they would be at the Burrow if he needed anything. They also requested he contact them again after he'd rested. He looked around, but the owl hadn't stayed. It probably would have had to wait about fifteen hours if it had, so he cast another patronus instead, it seemed harder than before, even from when he'd sent it in the hospital, but it did eventually work.
Harry told them he'd just woken up, eaten, and was fine. He also asked for an update on Fred. He figured he'd stop by hospital later that day…or rather in the morning to check on his friend and make sure the healers were actually treating Snape as well. He didn't trust any of the healers with his former professor, even the one he'd made swear an oath. They had seriously discussed letting the man die on the floor of the lobby when Harry had first shown up with him. It had made Harry so furious that he was certain a few healers were now absolutely terrified of him…he wasn't upset with that one bit either.
Harry looked at his wand in a little surprise…he was still using the elder wand because he hadn't determined what to do with it. Everything had been so crazy, he'd just used what was in his hand. He pulled Draco's wand from where he'd put it in his pocket and grimaced at it…it no longer felt right to him. With a sigh, he figured he should probably check on the mini-Death Eater to make sure he wasn't actually sent off to Azkaban as well as give him his wand back. That seemed like a headache for another day though…as well as figuring out the elder wand situation. The patronus…well that was probably because he just lived through a war. If he were being honest with himself, which he was only barely willing to do at the moment, he knew somewhere in the center of his being that losing a piece of soul, even if it hadn't been his originally, was a major loss and would have repercussions in addition to whatever creature changes he'd sped along with his use of his powers. His magic was bound to be affected in some way.
A terrier patronus appeared in the kitchen before Ron's voice answered him. "Fred is doing much better. We woke up only a couple hours ago. Meet us at St. Mungo's if you can at 8am. Mum wants to check on you, and warning mate, she's probably going to try to get you to come back to the Burrow with us."
Kreacher dropped the spoon into the pan with a clatter as the patronus faded away. "Master Harry is not leaving Kreacher again, is he?" The elf looked somewhere between angry and fearful at him.
Harry slowly shook his head. No, he couldn't be around the Weasley family right now. He loved them dearly, but he needed to be alone, desperately. Also, he still wasn't sure how to interpret Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's comments about creatures back in the summer and did not want to learn if his suspicions of their ingrained prejudice were true or not. In addition, he wasn't sure if he could live with some of the things he'd done in the battle and needed to work through that as well as figure out if there were any other drastic changes that Fawkes had warned him might happen. There was just so much…it was making his head hurt again.
"No, Kreacher. I'll stay here. The Burrow is the last place I need to be right now. I don't think my nerves can handle all the people." He'd hate to accidentally curse someone, or Merlin forbid, basilisk-stare someone to death.
It was still several hours until 8am, and Harry was surprisingly, or maybe not, still ridiculously tired. So, after telling Kreacher when to wake him up, he made his way upstairs to his normal room in the house, happy to see that Kreacher had given it a clean, and crashed onto the bed and back asleep. When Kreacher prodded him awake, he felt like he hadn't slept at all, and peeled himself off the bed with a groan to change and head to hospital.
Thankfully, Fred was awake and doing much better. Snape had been placed in a medically induced coma because of the snake bite, blood loss, malnutrition, sleep deprivation, and lasting effects from a horrific amount of cruciatus curses as well as what turned out to be long-term overdoses of aging potions and blood replenishers from not having fed as a vampire should and keeping his creature status hidden. He was a mess and seemed to have taken less care of himself than Harry, Ron, and Hermione who had been on the run, but the healer was optimistic and thankfully still committed to his care.
Harry and the healer both curiously speculated on when Snape had been bitten and turned since the aging potions were only very slowly wearing off, and even the healer had no clue as to when the man had stopped aging. If Snape hadn't been a vampire, he would most certainly not have survived even with Harry's tears and his slight healing spell. Vampires might be immortal and harder to kill than a human, but they could still be killed by most mortal wounds…as well as what Snape had been doing to himself, which was basically slowing poisoning himself to keep being a creature a secret.
It seemed that Snape had been extremely lucky. Being turned by a vampire in general had a very large chance of just straight out killing magical persons because their magic fought the change; muggles seemed to handle the change much better. If a magical person didn't die, then it was almost assured they would lose their magic unless they were already extremely magically powerful to begin with. It was only a small minority, which seemed to include a younger Snape, who kept their magic and their lives. These few also tended to be stronger physically and magically after the change, which was even more impressive.
When they all found each other, Ron and Hermione just stood quietly beside Harry in the hallway of St. Mungo's, none of them really needing to say anything, just being there for each other. "Any injuries?" Harry asked them, breaking the silence eventually.
"I had a broken arm, but it was easily patched up yesterday," Hermione told him. "Ron thankfully just had some scrapes…you?"
"Just really, really tired," he sighed. "I feel like death," he snorted in amusement before his friends' confused looks registered and he remembered they still didn't know exactly what happened.
"Mate…you don't sound all right," Ron looked him over suspiciously with concern in his eyes.
"I'm fine…but if I tell you what happened, you'll want me to see a healer, and I'm not doing that," Harry grimaced. He was not having it get out that he was mostly creature at this point, much less that he survived yet another killing curse.
"Wait…you didn't get checked over after the battle?" Hermione gasped in shock. "I thought everyone had!"
Harry shrugged. He'd been so concerned about Fred and Snape and yelling at healers and aurors that he hadn't thought about it and no one had even tried. It was a terrible idea though. "I'm not seeing a healer."
"Harry…really," Hermione started.
"What did happen?" Ron finally asked, interrupting before Hermione could go off on a rant.
"And what happened with that Death Eater going after Tonks and in the forest…" Hermione added, concern mirrored in both their expressions. "Vol-Voldemort said you were dead…"
"I don't want to talk about it right now," Harry sighed, thinking he'd probably never want to talk about it. Now, he physically couldn't bring himself to think much less talk about what he'd done to Dolohov, and they didn't even know about Greyback…then he died. If he stopped to think about it, he knew he couldn't keep going, and he needed to push forward just a little more...there was so much to do still...
"Look, I'll probably tell you sometime, but I just can't right now…please, just trust me. I-I…just…" he started breathing in short gasps and clutched his chest, a pain starting over his heart. It felt like he was about to die again and that caused his anxiety to rise even more.
"It's ok, deep breaths," Hermione grabbed his shoulders and said calmly. "We don't have to talk now. It's all over…let's just recover and rest…one day, maybe one day we can talk…ok? Take your time."
"Yeah," Harry nodded and focused on his breathing, realizing that he'd just been heading towards a panic attack. When he felt calm enough, he leaned against the wall and gave his concerned friends a little smile, meant to be reassuring. "Kreacher plans to fatten me up and mother me to death, so I'll be ok. It's just too soon…you know? I can't think about it, or I might not be able to hold myself together."
"We know," Hermione ran a hand up and down his arm soothingly.
"You're not coming back to the Burrow?" Ron asked with a little disappointment in his tone.
Harry shook his head. "I can't. It's just too many people right now. I need time to think and sleep and recover…is that ok?"
"Mum's not going to be happy," his friend gave him a shrug and a wry look. While he personally wouldn't make the decision to be alone, he knew Harry and how he seemed to need solitude to process things, not having grown up with people who cared and wanted to help.
"You know…I didn't actually plan to live through this…" Harry voiced what had been on his mind since he woke up. "I don't even know what to do now."
The sad looks his friends gave him hurt his heart. "Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed. "Now you can do whatever you want…"
"Well, now I just want to sleep," he gave them both a smile and stood up from where he'd been leaning. "I'll go check in on Snape again before leaving, and then right to bed if Kreacher doesn't force feed me first. Tell your mum I'll see her soon."
Ron snorted. "Coward…making me deal with Mum."
"Definitely," Harry laughed and headed down the hallway to his former professor's room.
"Hello, Professor," Harry sighed as he sat in the chair beside the man's bed.
Snape looked terrible. He was too thin, pale, his skin looked almost translucent, and his hair, while always a bit lanky, definitely needed a good wash. Harry closed his eyes for a minute, just enjoying the peace. No one else visited here, so it was calming being with the unconscious man. "I got a floo call from Kingsley this morning right before I left to come here," he informed the man on the bed. "He said the trials would start up in two days. I told him that I'd speak for you, Draco, and Narcissa Malfoy, but no one else. Lucius Malfoy tried to kill me a couple times, he can go rot in prison for all I care, but you three…you don't deserve that. I never thought I'd say that about Draco or even you, but hey, things change I guess."
Harry paused and reached forward to straighten the sheets and push a strand of hair out of Snape's face to hopefully make him more comfortable. After seeing the man's memories during the battle, he felt so much more connected to this former professor…he felt like his image of the Half-Blood Prince was returned to him. Something inside of him just understood now when he hadn't before.
"I tried to convince him that your trial shouldn't happen before you woke up, but since the healers aren't really sure when that will be, and everyone just wants to be done with this war, they already scheduled it…I'm sorry, I might have to show the Wizengamut some of your memories. I know you'll hate me, but I can't let you go to prison for something Dumbledore made you do. It's ridiculous, and definitely illegal that they're holding your trial without you, but apparently not even I can convince them to do otherwise."
"If we're being honest though, it might be best they have the trial now, before all your potions are flushed out of your system, and while no one besides me and Healer Morris knows you're a vampire. You know about creature prejudice…probably why you were taking all those potions. Add that to former Death Eater, and I don't think you'd even be given a trial."
Snape, of course, made no motion or comment and didn't yell at Harry like he half expected him to wake up just to do. "I'll keep checking in with your healer and visit when I can. Take care," Harry almost groaned when he had to stand again, feeling heavy all over. Sleep…that's what he needed, lots and lots of sleep.
It was late and Harry was sitting at the kitchen table with a candle in front of him. He held his hand directly in the flame, watching the orange and yellow flames lick the palm of his hand. It was a bit warm and tickled some, but it didn't burn at all. It was like that spell he had read about for History of Magic all those years ago that witches and wizards cast to survive being burned at the stake. He was still sitting like that when Kreacher walked in. The house elf raised an eyebrow at his master's hand in the flame of a candle, but then walked over to the sink to fill the kettle and start it for tea. Harry smiled at him. It seemed the elf had seen stranger as he'd commented that first day in the sitting room. He wandered what it would take before he actually shocked Kreacher.
"How did the trials go today, Master Harry?" Kreacher asked when Harry finally took his hand out of the flame and pulled down a mug for himself and Kreacher…who would most definitely refuse to drink the tea in the same room as his master no matter how much Harry tried to convince him otherwise.
"Snape was pardoned…but I couldn't stop them from giving him a year of probation to be served teaching Potions at Hogwarts," Harry sighed, knowing the man really didn't want to teach, or it definitely seemed that way anyway.
Frankly, Harry was certain they just did it because they were having issues finding teachers after everything that happened. How Snape was going to teach without taking the copious amounts of potions he had before to pass as human was beyond him, but Harry would be damned if he was going to let the man poison himself again. He didn't know why he cared, but he did. He'd spent too much effort keeping that git alive, and he was not going to let it go to waste now.
"His healer said they can take him out of the coma in a couple days, and that he should be healthy enough by whenever the term starts…which probably won't be until October this year with all the reconstruction."
"And the reconstruction…?"
"I helped out this morning and yesterday, as you know…but I don't know if I can keep it up," Harry ran a hand over his face. Between helping put the castle back together, the many funerals he attended, and the trials, he felt like he was slowly dying. He'd wanted to do some heavy research into basilisks and phoenixes, he'd even pulled books from the Black library. However, every second he wasn't at Hogwarts, the Ministry, an emotionally devastating funeral, or the hospital, he spent sleeping. Kreacher was constantly waking him up to make him eat something, but he never seemed to get enough sleep.
Kreacher turned worried eyes on his master. "Master Harry needs to cut back. You's not well…a healer…"
"No, Kreacher. I don't want anyone to know about this," he waved his hand, making the talons emerge before retracting them again. "At least I'm not dreaming, no nightmares, no dreams, nothing…"
"That's not normal, Master Harry," the elf poured the water into the mugs with a deep frown.
"I just have to get through Draco and Narcissa's trials tomorrow, and at least I'll be done at the ministry," he smiled thankfully as the elf pushed the mug over to him. "Then I'll do more research into what's happening to me. My magic has been erratic in fixing the castle too," he remarked, not sure if he'd mentioned that before.
Kreacher stared at him with wide eyes. It seemed he hadn't mentioned it. "What is happening with Master Harry's magic?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Some days I'm able to levitate and restore entire sections of wall by myself, something that usually takes four or five people, and some days I'm only good for handing out water to the workers. Flitwick stopped me yesterday and told me it was probably just trauma and it would settle, but I think it's more than that. I think it's some combination of my new creature powers, the fact that I died, and that I'm missing a piece of soul that had been in me since I was a baby. I don't think it's the wand…I'm still using Dumbledore's…but it feels like mine, you know?"
"Kreacher will start reading the books master pulled," the elf nodded in decision and worry in his voice. "Master sleeps too much, and Kreacher heard you throw up last night."
Harry grimaced. He hadn't realized the elf had heard that. He'd been queasy occasionally, but usually just after dinner or right when he'd gone to bed at night. It'd only gotten bad enough that he had actually thrown up the night before though. "I think it's just stress, Kreacher. Don't worry, ok?"
"Kreacher is worried," the elf glared at him before taking his own mug to leave the room to enjoy it. "Kreacher will wake you before the trials tomorrow. The master will not be going to Hogwarts first."
Harry just sighed. He knew Kreacher was right. "Fine…but could you also clean up my other robes? I probably shouldn't wear these two days in a row before the Wizengamut." He'd bought two sets of nice robes just for the trials. That and a couple shirts and jeans were all he could bring himself to purchase before he was just too tired, and that was all he had before Hermione sent him the clothes he'd left in her beaded bag just that morning.
"They's already cleaned and in your wardrobe," the elf informed him with a nod.
Harry smiled at his retreating form thankfully. He'd tried to free Kreacher right after things had settled down a bit, but the elf had actually hexed him for it. Kreacher had clearly made his preferences known while Harry nursed a sore bum, and they'd dropped the subject for the time being. Frankly, Harry was certain he would have collapsed by now without the elf. He really didn't know how to take care of himself it seemed.
Neither Draco nor Narcissa were sentenced to prison, mainly based on Harry's testimony in their favor. In a move that seemed to be the Wizengamut's new favorite, Draco was put on a year's probation to be served in the new eighth year class at Hogwarts…something Harry hadn't even heard about before Draco was sentenced to it. Narcissa was sentenced to house arrest for the year, but with the option of getting it reduced for good behavior.
Harry had reluctantly taken the time to stop his former nemesis just outside the courtroom and give him back his wand, something that caused Draco to both look elated at the return and suspicious at Harry. "What do you want from me, Potter?" He asked, with no aggression just resignation to whatever the other teen said.
"Nothing…I want absolutely nothing from you Malfoy," Harry sighed. He just didn't have the energy for trading barbs with the teen anymore. He wanted to get home and either sleep or just curl up in front of a fire. Even though it was summer and hot, he still craved a fire…probably part of being a phoenix.
When the blond looked at him in disbelief, he rolled his eyes. "Look…I hadn't even heard of this eighth-year thing before a few minutes ago," he said. "If and I mean if I decide to join you at Hogwarts…how about we try to put everything behind us and be civil to each other. Is that enough to ask?"
"It's a start," Malfoy nodded but with a little less suspicion in his eyes.
"Right…just stay out of trouble," Harry smirked at him before heading to the floos, leaving a bemused Malfoy in his wake.
Snape was awake. The man's healer had sent an owl that morning which Kreacher handed him when he'd prodded his master awake and down to breakfast. The queasiness had gotten worse, hitting at odd times throughout the day. He'd thrown up about once or twice a day recently but was actually really hungry when he wasn't queasy.
"I guess I should stop by and see him," Harry remarked with relief at the letter. He'd been very worried about how long it was taking for Snape to regain consciousness. Surprisingly, somewhere along the line he'd been classified as Snape's next of kin…probably partly due to the fact he was the Savior, partly that Snape didn't have anyone else, and partly because he'd threatened more than half the healers at St. Mungo's as well as the hospital itself when he'd first had Snape admitted, and no one wanted to deal with him in a strop again.
"Kreacher will allow master to go see the potion master if he stops helping rebuild the castle," Kreacher crossed his little arms and glared at Harry who had pushed the eggs Kreacher had made him to the other side of the table and then thrown a napkin over them for good measure.
"No more eggs…" Harry wrinkled his nose at the bowl, violently horrified at the looks of them for some reason and holding back a new bout of nausea. "I think it's a part-bird thing…even though the roast chicken you made last night didn't bother me. I can't stand to look at them cooked like that."
"Kreacher will not make eggs again, but master will not change the subject," he scolded.
"You're right," Harry sighed dejectedly. His magic had evened out some, but everything tired him now. He'd gotten the letter from Hogwarts, informing him of the eighth-year option, and he really was considering going…mainly because he still hadn't determined what he wanted to do with his life. The aurors wanted him, but the new creature powers and traits gave him pause…maybe a year to get things settled and to figure himself out would be a good idea. He needed to be stronger to go back to school though, and right now, that wasn't a place he was in.
"Of course, Kreacher is right," the elf nodded. "Don't forget, your Weasley and Granger will stop by for lunch before they's go to Australia." Ron and Hermione were off to find Hermione's parents and hopefully restore their memories and get them settled somewhere before heading back for their eighth year. Hermione had firmly decided for both herself and Ron that they would definitely be accepting the offer.
"I haven't forgotten," Harry pushed aside his breakfast plate, not able to eat anything else. "I'll stop by and see Snape and be back before lunch."
"No going to the castle!" Kreacher called after him as he left the kitchen to get changed.
Up Next: Snape wakes up...
