Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Notes: I mentioned this before, but this fic started as a drabble and retained the soul of one. There really isn't any major plot, beyond an exploration of situations Harry may find himself in with his abilities. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed and favorited. ^.^
Warnings: This story contains some minor HP/SS slash. There is nothing explicit, as it is not the focus of the story. But if the idea of a same-sex relationship bothers you, please proceed with caution.
Seeing Tomorrow: Part 2 of 2
When the teen leaves Snape's quarters late that night, he carries with him a newfound conviction to do his best to use his skill to help those around him. Before, he'd decided to act on his visions out of a whim and a desperate need to find something to do to chase away the boredom that had plagued him since the war ended. But seeing Marina's death - both in his vision and in reality - had changed things. After revealing his secret with Snape and retelling some of his vision-induced adventures, Harry had come to realize that even in the most inconsequential ways, he'd really been helping people. As Harry makes the journey back to his dorm, he hangs on to the hope that creating many small happinesses will help offset the enormous tragedies that haunt Harry's life.
"I'll make every day as good as it can be," Harry promises the canopy of his bed as he drifts off to sleep and into another vision.
…..
Harry isn't the only one affected by the first year's sudden death. As the weeks pass, upper years become more attentive to the whereabouts and needs of the younger students - first years are rarely left alone long enough to get into trouble. The professors are shaken as well. They immediately take measures to enhance the safety measure in the castle and taking to loitering around the hallways to keep an eye on students.
As for Harry, the teen begins seeking out his newfound confidant - the potions professor. At least one evening every week finds the boy sitting with Snape in his office or in the potions classroom and talking through his latest visions.
For the most part, the Potions Master acts as a slightly snarky, but overall quiet, sounding board. Other times, however, the man's patience runs dangerously thin. Unfortunately for him, ever since the end of the war, any power he'd ever held to intimidate or chase off the green-eyed student has faded. Harry wouldn't admit it, but he was quickly growing fond of the older man's snarling outbursts.
"Do you really think I care to hear about any Weasley's romantic exploits, Potter?" Severus Snape growls one evening as he slashes and angry 'T' on an exam.
"And you think I do?! Snape, Percy is in love! Every night this week I've had to witness him writing love poems for Merlin's sake. Really, really bad love poems. I need you help." Harry leans forward on the chair he's perched on, trying to project as much pitiful desperation as he can.
"And what exactly do you expect me to do, brat? Walk up to a Weasley I haven't spoken to since he graduated and tell him to get over himself?" Snape rolls his eyes at the boy as he writes a scathing comment on another third year exam. "How is this my life now?" The man mutters under his breath, quiet enough that Harry doesn't hear.
"Please?"
Snape gives Harry his strongest 'shut up' glare. Harry realizes the conversation is over. Sighing in mock defeat, the boy stands up and stalks out of the room. "Thanks for nothing you old bat!"
As the door closes behind him, the teen realizes he may pay for his parting comment later. But oddly enough, he trusts that Snape won't hold his bouts of vision induced insanity against him. Well, not for too long, at least. Feeling a bit better after stopping by Snape's office, Harry smiles and walks down the hallway.
Now that he has his venting out of the way, Harry is ready to put his real plan to stop Percy's poetry into action.
"Time to say hi to the twins," the boy grins mischievously as he heads towards the owlery.
…..
"Malfoy!" Harry shouts early one morning, barrelling into the boy and pushing him out of entrance hall before any onlookers can process what's happening.
"Potter! Get the fuck off of me!" The pale boy spits, finally wresting his arm out of Harry's grasp and punching the boy in the face. Harry grimaces at the trickle of blood he feels coming out of his nose and wonders for a split second why he was putting himself through this. Then Harry reels back and punches Malfoy in the gut in retaliation. Soon, both boys are on the ground just outside of the castle, rolling around and yelling insults as fists fly.
It takes several minutes for the steam to run out and for the boys to collapse tiredly on the ground. Through some off twist of luck (or the alluring pull of breakfast in the Great Hall), there wasn't a single onlooker to the fight. Harry had even managed to get them tucked away out of sight of the open front doors. Harry smiles in smug satisfaction.
"Seriously, Pot-head?" Malfoy gasps, struggling to catch his breath and wiping some dirt off of his face.
Harry doesn't have time to answer before the hooting of a regal looking owl draws their attention. The owl drops and angry, red Howler on the blonde boy's stomach before flying away. Taking that as his cue to leave, Harry climbs to his feet and waves at the other boy. "You're welcome, Malfoy," he whispers quietly as a shrill woman's voice starts screaming at the boy about his refusal to meet a prospective spouse in France that weekend.
Harry may have vowed to help as many of his peers he could with his visions, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to have some fun with his methods.
Later that evening, Snape honest-to-Merlin laughs when Harry confesses how he got his black eye.
…
The dog is antsy and bored, having long tired of his own company. His ears perk as he heard the return of his friend - the dog can't help but be glad his friend's date finally ended. Time to play! Not noticing the uncorked potions bottle in his friend's hand, the dog barrels into the man. As they both fall to the ground, the dog barks happily and licks the man's face. The potion pours out of the vial and seeps into the floorboards as the man yells, "Sirius! Bad dog!"
Harry is not amused.
He had easily recognized the potion that will spill as Remus's monthly dose of Wolfsbane potion. And if his evaluation of how the vision felt is correct, the potion will be spilt in the next few hours. The teen groans and flops out of bed, landing face first on the floor by his bed. Blearily lifting his head he checks the time and decides that 4:45 am or not, he needs to pay a visit to a certain Potions Master.
The man in question looks even more murderous than usual as he slams open his door fifteen minutes later.
"Morning Snape," Harry yawns.
"Potter," The man growls, looming over the half-asleep student and waiting for answers.
Harry yawns once more before speaking, "You wouldn't happen to have any extra Wolfsbane, would you?"
Snape's lips curl back into a silent snarl as he realizes for whom the question is being asked. "Blingy!" He calls. An abnormally small House Elf pops into the entryway between the two.
"Master Snape, Master Potter. Good morning, sirs!"
"I need you to grab my last vial of Wolfsbane - top shelf, second from the left. Bring it to that fool Lupin at…" The man trails off, looking to Harry. The boy chimes in, "He'll be at Grimmauld place sometime today. But make sure you don't give it over before Sirius greets Remus, please."
"Blingy will deliver it, sirs!" Then the elf is gone with a snap. The two stand in tired silence for a long moment before the professor sighs and moves aside, leaving room for Harry to pass into his rooms. "Have some tea and wake up. We wouldn't want you napping in the hallways, idiot boy."
"Thanks, Snape."
….
Not long after the Wolfsbane incident, a series of visions warns Harry that Hermione is finally focusing her laser sharp attention on figuring out what is up with Harry.
Two weeks after the first of the ominous visions, Harry sees Hermione and Ginny decide to hold an intervention. So Harry steels his nerves and tries to remain calm that Friday when he is pulled into the Room of Requirement. He simply keeps telling himself 'if Snape doesn't hate me, Hermione won't either.'
After Harry makes the room appear, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron quickly head inside.
"... A ballpit? Really, Harry?" Hermione asks, looking at the colorful playpen off to one side of the room. Harry just shrugs and settles down on one of the oversized chairs. The girls share a look and settle down on the couch across from him.
"Harry, we wanted to talk to you today because… well…" Hermione trails off, looking towards Ginny. The other girl just shrugs and says, "We want to know what's up."
Ron plops down on the floor, "The girls're convinced you've gone 'round the bend mate. All week they've been talking about how weird it is you're talking to so many other students-"
"Well, Harry has never been terribly social, Ron. You know that," Hermione cuts in. Turning to Harry she continues, "Studying with Daphne, playing games with second years, eating breakfast with the fourth year Hufflepuff boy - it's all great, but you have to admit is out of character."
Harry can't argue that. He remains silent as Ginny chimes in, "Don't forget what Fred and George told us, Ron. They said Harry was the one that tipped them off about Percy's poems! I just want to know how you found out about them. I'd love to be able to get one up on my brothers too, you know."
"Hey!" Ron yelps, glaring at his sister.
"Oh please," Ginny says. "Like I'd need to use any secret methods to find out your secrets. I'll just ask Hermione."
"Hermione?! She won't tell you anything, will you-"
Seeing the conversation spinning off topic, Harry decides it's time to either admit the truth or kill the topic entirely. After taking a deep breath and repeating his inner mantra of 'if Snape doesn't hate me, Hermione won't either' a few more times for good measure, Harry decides it's long past time to admit the truth and rips off the metaphorical bandage.
"I can see the future."
Harry's loud words cut off Ron. The entire room falls silent as the other teens digest Harry's words. Slowly, skeptical and frustrated expressions form on the faces of Harry's friends.
"Harry, be serious here! We know something is going on and we just want to help. Ever since the war ended, you've been a bit… off. I mean, at the start of school it was obvious you were barely sleeping and you never wanted to do anything. And now, well, you're always running around at all hours doing who knows what!" Hermione's face is filled with worry as she begs Harry to open up.
"Hermione, it… I have been having a hard time. I mean, we fought in a war, all of us are a bit off in the head these days. But I am being serious. I can see the future."
"You… you're not kidding…" The bookworm stares. "You can see the future?" Her eyes widen as she stares at her friend. Off to the side, Ginny hums thoughtfully, "That kind of makes sense. I mean, it could explain how you knew about Percy?"
Harry groans at the reminder of the two weeks he was subjected to visions of Percy's lyrical torture. "Don't remind me of that. Ever. I never want to hear any of your brothers reciting their own poetry ever again."
None of the others seems to know what to do with that admission, so blase about the incredibly surreal methods that led to Harry knowing about the poems in the first place. Harry takes pity on the shell-shocked teens and doesn't wait for them to ask questions before continuing. "But yeah, I'm not kidding. When I'm asleep, I see visions of the near-futures of people I know. I saw Bill's promotion, Mrs. Weasley burning a cake, Seamus walking into a door, and… has Ron given you that scarf yet?" Harry asks, looking to Hermione for confirmation. The girl just shakes her head, expression unchanged. Ron meanwhile finally shakes off his shock and shouts, "Oi! Way to ruin a surprise!"
Wincing at his mistake, Harry continues, "Oh, nevermind that one then. Sorry, Ron. I thought that was going to happen today. But as you can probably guess, most of my visions are pretty ordinary."
"I see…" Hermione says quietly. Her expression is already fading from 'shocked' to 'must research this oddity', and Harry braces himself for the beginning of the real interrogation. Ron surprises the teen by sounding thoughtful and level-headed when he asks, "How did this start?"
Harry had spent a lot of the past few weeks discussing the possibilities behind his gift with Snape. Thanks to those discussions, Harry feels he has a fairly solid answer for his friend. "I think it was always a skill I should have had. But with the connection I had with Voldemort, well, it kept the skill from really having space to activate. Then when old snake face died, that connection was suddenly gone. And my brain finally had room and capacity to deal with future vision crap."
Hermione is nodding at the ideas Harry presents, but Harry is sure she'll be researching other potential causes later on. The girl never has been able to accept things from just one source. And just like that the interrogation begins as Hermione takes over the questioning. It's nearly curfew before Harry is able to draw the conversation to a close. The last half hour had merely been Hermione going on a tirade about cheating once she realizes that Harry's visions can give him glimpses of tests and homework answers. In the face of Hermione's wrath, Harry is just glad that neither girl had realized that his visions often reveal things a lot more intimate than simply test answers. Small mercies.
The four head back to the common room after Harry extracts a promise from them to keep the information secret. Hermione was quick to understand and point out how badly things could go if the Ministry were to realize that the boy-who-lived is also a Seer.
Harry falls asleep in record time when he finally gets to bed, exhausted by the hours of questioning. His sleep isn't very restful however, as a vision of Hermione researching his 'condition' fills his mind.
…..
Harry has had enough of this week. Dealing with his friends has been exhausting - they'd cornered him several more times since that initial conversation already. Hermione had wanted more details about how the visions felt. Ginny had wanted some dirt on her brothers. And Ron had latched onto the idea that the visions could help with homework. The argument that had erupted with Harry had refused Ron's request had been explosive, and as of lunch, Ron was still sulking and glaring sullenly at his friend.
And now this.
"Potter, care to explain why you intentionally blew up your potion today?" Snape snarls at him as the boy settles down next to a dirty cauldron and nervously begins scrubbing. "You're lucky that no one besides you was caught in that blast, else you'd have faced a lot more than just this one detention!"
Harry is quiet as the man berates him. Harry could - should - have just stopped by Snape's office the way he normally does. But ever since he woke up this morning he's been in a constant state of anxiety and something else he couldn't figure out. He wasn't reacting rationally to anything today. "It was dumb, I know."
"And completely unnecessary, you foolish boy!" Snape practically screams back at the subdued teen.
"I had a vision about you last night," Harry says quietly, face blushing crimson and fingers clenching around the filthy caudron. "It was… uh.. You were…" Harry takes a deep breath before continuing. "I saw you in the shower. Naked. Jerking off." As the words spill out, the boy wishes the ground would swallow him up. His blush is burning on his face and he's pretty sure he's about to start hyperventilating. The boy is hyper aware of the Potions Master deflating slightly.
"I suppose it was bound to happen eventually."
"What?" Harry looks at the man. Snape looks mildly uncomfortable, but his fury is gone. Not at all the reaction that the green eyes boy had been expecting.
"We had a deal, I believe. A question equal to the vision. So tell me, was it the most scarring of the visions you've had?" Snape's tone is wry and cynical, scathing in a way that Harry assumes is mostly self-defense.
The boy scoffs and answers quickly, "Far from it professor. Definitely not scaring." Realizing the words that had just come out of his mouth, Harry isn't surprised at all to discover that his blush is still capable of deepening. Trying to cover up for his slip, he continues, "Scarring is seeing your best friends lose their virginity to each other. Messily and enthusiastically. With role-play involved."
"I see," Snape says thoughtfully, staring at the blushing boy with an expression Harry isn't able to name.
Tension fills the room as silence to take it any longer, Harry tries to break the silence, "Professor, I-"
"If you want to get to sleep before midnight, I suggest you scrub those cauldrons quickly." Then the Potions Master sweeps out of the classroom. As Harry tries to cool the blush off of his face, he can't help but wonder if his vision is coming true at that very moment.
…..
And so Spring arrives. Harry and Snape continue to meet and discuss Harry's visions, doing their best to ignore the added layer of tension that has begun to fill the air when the conversation lulls. Ron makes his peace with Harry and begins to ignore the green-eyed boy's visions entirely. Hermione continues to research Harry's skills and even offers to help Harry with some of his adventures. With the support of his… Snape… and the relief of having his closest friends aware of his secret, Harry feels more accepting than ever of his visions. He almost looks forward to sleeping some nights, eager to see what his next task may be.
But not all of his visions are welcome and it's with a heavy heart that Harry heads up to see the headmaster one evening.
"Harry, my boy, what can I do for you?" Professor Dumbledore asks, gesturing for the boy to sit down in a chair beside him.
The green eyed boy can't quite bring himself to meet the headmaster's questioning gaze. He's still not sure he should have come, but he needed to see the old man who had done so much for him. "Sir… I…" Harry trails off as he feels a sob forming behind his words. He sniffs and wipes at his eyes, trying to remain calm as he finally looks up into the warm face of Albus Dumbledore. "Thank you for everything, Professor. I don't… I don't think I ever said that before."
The headmaster smiles warmly. "I believe I have to thank you as well, Harry. Seeing you grow up so well is a great gift for an old man like myself."
Harry wonders briefly if the headmaster knows why it is Harry came here today. But Harry also knows it isn't his place to ask, so instead he just moves out of his chair to give his professor a warm hug. After mentor and student break apart, Harry says quickly says goodbye and heads out of the headmaster's office. He manages to hold himself together long enough to get to an abandoned classroom near the dungeons. Closing and locking the door behind him, Harry hides in the darkness for a long time.
The boy's eyes are red and swollen when the Potions Master opens his door an hour after curfew. Seeing the expression on Harry's face, the man swallows down his usual snide greeting and ushers the boy inside. As the door shuts behind him, Harry staggers over to the couch and curls up into himself. Snape sits next to him and places an arm around the boy's shoulders.
When Harry sniffles and leans in closer to the man, Snape takes an educated guess and whispers, "You can't save everyone."
…..
Headmaster Dumbledore's passing is announced at dinner the following day. Harry sits with one arm each around Hermione and Ginny as they take in the news.
"Headmaster Dumbledore's death was peaceful, he fell asleep last night and faded away. We will remember him for all he has contributed both to this school and to our world," McGonagall's voice wavers slightly as the normally stoic woman delivers the news. Severus Snape stands to one side of her, hand supporting her elbow. When the Potions Master's dark eyes meet Harry's from across the room, the boy manages a watery smile before turning back to his friends.
When Marina had died, Harry had been so lost in his own guilt that he mostly ignored the visions he saw of his grieving classmates. Now though, Harry feels that helping his classmates mourn may help him say goodbye to the headmaster as well. He's pretty sure that Dumbledore would have done the same in his place.
On the first night, Harry has a vision of a little Ravenclaw struggling to comprehend death while picking at her breakfast. She hadn't known Marina, but she did know the headmaster and isn't sure what to do in the face of such a loss. The next afternoon, Harry works with the castle ghosts to set up a magical scavenger hunt. For two hours before dinner, first and second years from all houses run squealing around the castle grounds as they hunt down colorful socks filled with lemon candies.
On the second night, Harry sees Daphne staring blankly at her class notes as she sits alone in a classroom. She's listless and lonely and feeling too thoughtful to focus. Wanting keep the girl from isolating herself like that, Harry corners the girl at breakfast, drags her over the Hermione, and convinces the two girls to set up study sessions for the upper years. Miraculously, they manage to do so without bickering too much.
On the third night, Harry is treated to the sight of a hundred deflated souffles as House Elves sob and moan and blame themselves for the loss of their beloved headmaster. In the morning, Harry narrowly avoids getting dragged to another study session - he may have created a monster - and heads to the kitchens. The elves are reluctant to help him cook, but they cave in quickly when Harry mentions his own grief. By the time he is pushed to the door at dinnertime, he's managed to perk up the House Elves considerably as they run around correcting his intentionally terrible mistakes. Dinner that night is delicious.
And so Harry continues to devote all of his time and energy to helping the residents of the castle with their grief as Dumbledore's memorial service approaches. With classes cancelled, he has more than enough time to distract and refocus the people around him.
But in Harry's mind, his most important task is the one he takes on the evening before the memorial. He shows up at the entrance to Snape's rooms with a deck of exploding snap and some Christmas crackers he'd had Fred and George send him. The room's occupant looks tired when he ushers Harry and doesn't fight as hard as he normally would against Harry's suggestion to play silly games and where the silly hats that come out of the crackers.
Operation 'comfort Snape' continues for several hours. And as Harry explodes the card pile once more while finishing a story about the time Dumbledore and Tonks's had a dance competition, Harry is sure he sees the faintest of smiles on Snape's face.
…..
After the memorial service, Hermione wakes up Harry and Ron in the middle of the night. Standing at their beds in her nightgown, hair a mess and eyes wild, the boys are quick to jolt into full awareness and ask what's happening.
Shaking a calendar she's holding, the girl practically screams, "N.E.W.T.s are in less than a month!"
Harry and Ron share a look of resigned dread - Harry doesn't need his visions to know that all that will be in their future for the next month will be studying and more studying.
…..
Harry is positive that Hermione will kill him if she ever finds out the knowledge that is plaguing him. No, he would admit to her about seeing what she and Ron got up to in the Herbology Greenhouse two weeks ago before he'll admit to this. But he knows he needs to tell someone, so he goes to the man who has quickly become his closest confidant - Professor Severus Snape.
Before the man's door is fully open, Harry pushes his way inside, wringing his hands together and facing the fireplace. Once Snape joins him in the sitting room, the boy spins around and shouts, "I've seen all the questions!"
Snape groans and moves over to the couch, sinking down into it and punching the bridge of his nose the way he always seems to when Harry presents him a particularly troubling situation. "Idiot boy."
"Hey! This is not my fault!" Harry snaps at the man. He barely resists the urge to follow up with a kick to the Potions Master's shins the way a toddler throwing a tantrum might.
The man ignores the outburst. "There's nothing we can do at this point. If we were to ask for different tests for you, we'd have to explain why. The Ministry is one of the last groups of people I'd trust with the knowledge about your visions. So, unprofessional as it may be for me to say, just suck it up and take the tests."
Green, incredulous eyes meet weary black ones. "Who the hell are you and what have you done with my professor?" Harry whispers.
He moves and places the back of his hand against the professor's forehead as if checking for a fever before realizing what he's doing. Snae just glares and grabs Harry's wrist. He doesn't move the hand away from his face. "I'm not ill, Potter. I'm practical. Albus might have been able to arrange something, but without his resources we'll have have to deal with it the only way we can." Harry can't fight the twinge of sadness that passes through him at the sound of the headmaster's name. But he knows that Snape is right about their lack of options.
"Okay," Harry says, drawing is hand, still wrapped in Snape's own, away from the man's face. "Okay."
And so Harry takes his N.E.W.T.s without stirring up any drama. Thanks to his foreknowledge and the fact that a distinct lack of psychotic wizards threatening his life had allowed him time to study, he knows all the material. Not a single question comes as a surprise and he's sure he passes the tests with flying colors. Harry leaves his final exam on a sunny Thursday afternoon, stretching to loosen his muscles after sitting for so long. He's done.
The teen pauses mid-stretch. He's done. The realization is terrifying - no more tests, no more classes. Harry just has one more week hanging out in the school before he's out of Hogwarts and sent careening into the adult world.
Half an hour later, he discovers that Myrtle has a surprisingly good beside manner, hovering beside him and pretending to pat his back as he vomits into the toilet.
…
"Hermione is going to study magical law. Ron wants to enter Auror training. Neville has an Herbology apprenticeship lined up. Daphne is going to work with her cousin to launch a clothing line and Lavender is going to write for the Daily Prophet as an intern. Both Seamus and Dean are applying for positions at Gringotts. I hear Blaise is-"
"I assure you, Potter, that the Hogwarts gossip chain does in fact reach the teaching staff. I know what all of your yearmates are planning to do once they graduate," Snape cuts in, clearly tired of hearing Harry's agitated recitation of the student body's plans. Harry stares at Snape from where he sits.
"Do you know what I'm doing next?" The question is small and hesitant.
Snape puts down his grading quill and sets aside the essays he had been pretending to mark. "I can give you a list of the rumors, if you'd like. I can even tell you which are front-runners in the betting pool." Harry supposes he shouldn't be surprised to hear that his classmates are taking bets about what he's doing next - as the boy-who-lived he had long since resigned himself to the uncomfortable and inescapable trappings of his fame, even when among peers. But he knows what Snape is getting at - Harry isn't here to hear what people think he should do. He's here to figure out what he wants to do for himself.
"I haven't thought about it at all. Before this year, my purpose was Voldemort. Until he was dead, I'd never really thought about anything other than fighting him. I'd expected … well I never assumed I'd still be around afterwards." Harry admits. "And since then, well… I've just been trying to get used to life without him. And about getting used these visions."
"That is one of the least surprising things you have ever said, Potter," Snape says with a smirk.
Harry glares at the man - he has no patience for being made fun of when he is in the middle of a crisis. "I have one week left before I have to go out into the world and do... something! I need to figure this shit out, Snape!"
"Language, Potter," Snape chides, ignoring the eye roll the boy treats him with in return. "And no, you do not have just one week before you need to figure out your life. From what I understand, you are quite wealthy and can support yourself for a while without a job. You have time to think about this. And besides, enough people are enraptured by your charms that they will undoubtedly bend over backwards to help you figure out how to do whatever it is you decide you wish to pursue."
The Potions Master returns to his grading as the teen mulls over his words. Two failed essays and later, Harry speaks up.
"I want to be around people. I… seeing visions of everyone is hard, and annoying. But it feels good to help them out when I can. It feels good." Snape nods his head and finishes up another essay. "But, I can't support myself with random good deeds. And once everyone scatters at the end of the year, it's going to be a lot harder to do anything about the visions."
"If you ever paid attention, you'd remember what it is I just said. You've got time to figure it out, brat. And…" Snape pauses for a moment before continuing, "I'm just a firecall away, should you ever need to discuss anything."
Harry's grin is so brilliant that Snape is unable to fight his own small smile from forming in return.
…..
Flitwick points Harry towards Rosemerta, who introduces Harry to a man named Borice Mortins. Borice shows Harry the properties he has for sale in the village of Hogsmeade and Harry almost immediately falls in love with a little cottage on the outskirts of the town. The teen decides it is the perfect place for him to stay while he figures out his life.
He signs the papers granting him ownership the weekend before graduation then spends the rest of the weekend telling his friends and family about his new place. He's already seen how disappointed Sirius will be to hear that his godson won't be staying with him, and how upset Ron will be that Harry won't be joining him in Auror training. Hermione is on his side for this one though, praising Harry on deciding to think through his future before making any decisions.
And then Harry blinks and it is graduation day.
Daphne and Blaise both give Harry a hug before they disappear with their families. Malfoy even stops by to give the boy-who-lived a nearly civil farewell. Then Harry is swept up in a flurry of well-wishing Order of the Phoenix members, professors and Weasleys. Sirius is so proud he's sobbing off to one corner while Remus and Tonks flirt at at a table beside him.
Once Harry has made his rounds, he seeks out Snape. He's amused and totally unsurprised to find his now former professor skulking off to the side of the Great Hall. "Congratulations, Potter," the man says seriously, as Harry leans against the wall next to the professor.
"Thanks," Harry says, grinning out at the people gathered in the Hall. Then he turns to look a the man beside him, finding it hard to remember the biting hatred he once held for the man who's since become a pillar of snarky support. "I'm heading to my new place this evening. You should stop by sometime."
Snape hums and nods. For a long while, both men stand together staring out at the former-students and their families.
…..
Two weeks after graduation, Harry wakes up with a blissful smile on his face. Unable to stop thinking about his vision, he sets to work cleaning the house and enthusiastically cooking almost all the food he has in the house for brunch. As the second loaf of bread is ready to come out of the oven and the table is filled with an assortment of fruits and spreads, Harry hears a sharp knock on the door. "Finally!" The boy mutters to himself, before calling out louder, "Come in!"
Moments later, the Potions Master of Hogwarts strides into the young man's kitchen, holding a bottle of wine and a few heavy books. The man takes in the large amount of food laid out on the table as he sets down the bottle and tomes. Raising his eyebrow, he asks wryly, "You knew I was coming, I assume?"
Harry just laughs and grabs the man's hand, ushering him into a seat at the table. Keeping a hold of his hand, Harry sits down in another chair and leans across the table towards the man.
"Took you long enough to get here."
…..
Epilogue
Harry Potter, Student Counsellor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, wakes up with the reluctant groan of a man who isn't yet ready to face a new day. After helping a fourth year boy with a particularly delicate self-image issue yesterday, all Harry wants is to keep sleeping as long as possible. But he knows this is one vision that a certain Potions Master would want to be informed about as soon as possible.
So Harry rolls to his side and nudges the shoulder of the man asleep next to him. "Sev. Sev, wake up."
The Potions Master moans sleepily, but obediently pries an eye open to glare at the young man. "Emergency?" He asks, voice raspy from sleep. "Or is Daphne's baby finally on its way?"
"No, we've got two days left before Thomas is born." Harry says, moving closer and snuggles into the other man's chest. "But we're going to have company sometime this week. I think maybe tomorrow?"
The arm that had been winding over the boy's waist tenses. "What kind of company?"
"Sirius is finally going to connect enough dots about us to show up with a pitchfork and backup," Harry snickers. While he's sure the encounter won't be pleasant, it promises to be entertaining. Severus groans and curses into the younger man's hair. "It's been five years, Sev. Honestly, it's more than a little pathetic that he still hasn't noticed. Especially given how often he swings by. My visions haven't warned us every time."
The potions professor just swears again. "Go back to sleep, idiot boy. I'm going to need my rest if I'm going to be putting up with your feral mutt. And if I remember correctly, you have a bullying situation to avert tomorrow." Harry hums in sleepy agreement, cuddling closer into the other's embrace as he quickly falls back to sleep.
"Goodnight, Harry."