Happy Friday! How many of you are counting down the days until vacation? I know I am! This is the very last chapter. Next week: Epilogue! I thank you all for your support and reviews. So, here it is! Love, Inspired.

Ch 17 Relief
And thou wilt give thyself relief, if thou doest every act of thy life as if it were the last. ~Marcus Aurelius

There were so many changes in the past year since Harry had helped Snape. There were many things, however, that still needed to be sorted out. Unbeknownst to Harry, Snape was looking for the right moment to talk. He had failed. He knew it; the pain coursed through his veins and ate away at his mind at night. Harry wasn't the spoiled brat he once thought of him as; no, he was abused; abused like he, himself. He hadn't fulfilled his vow to Lily, and that hurt more than any curse the Dark Lord could ever throw at him. So, after one particulary brutal night of no sleep and constant pacing, he summoned Harry the following morning. It was time to talk.

"You called, sir?" Harry asked, stepping into the familiar office.

"I did, Harry," Snape confirmed. "There is…something I wish to talk about."

A look of confusion crossed Harry's face. What could it be?

"You see," Snape continued, pacing in front of his desk, "though you have helped me with my…issues, I have failed to help you with yours."

Harry was taken aback. No…he couldn't know. He had worked so hard to hide it…

"Yes, Harry," Snape said quietly. He had stopped pacing and now faced Harry. He looked ashamed. "I know that your relatives treated you poorly, as you so briefly told me earlier this year." Before Harry could object, Snape raised his hand, silencing him. "I was, too, Harry."

"You were abused?" Harry blurted out. "You just seem so-so strong, so…powerful. I would have never guessed."

Snape grimaced. "There are many things we do not know about others, Harry. It does not do to judge people by their looks." Harry grinned sheepishly. "You have obviously matured since last year, and I know it will be difficult, you must talk about it. I will not let you leave until you do."

Harry sat down in the front desk. Snape pulled a stool in front of him. He clasped his hands on the table and waited patiently.

"It's not that I was abused…"Harry started, "I mean, they never really injured me themselves. I only got hit a few times, and even then, it was never taken too far."

Snape nodded, and Harry took this as a sign to continue. "It was more mental abuse, you could say. They made me believe my parents died in a car crash and were drunks." Snape paled slightly at this statement, but nonetheless kept an impassive look. "Everything that went wrong, they would blame on me, and I thought I really was the freak Petunia always claimed me to be. I did the chores, cooked the meals, and just barely passed by on the scraps they fed me. I was given Dudley's hand-me-downs, which believe me, would not fit anyone; he's the size of a baby whale." Harry snorted. "When I got punished, I was locked in my cupboard which was my bedroom until I turned 11."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Snape asked. Even he had had a decent bedroom with his good-for-nothing drunk of a father.

Harry shrugged. "I assumed you knew, I mean, my first few dozen Hogwarts letters were addressed to 'the cupboard under the stairs'."

"The letters go out magically. No one views the addressed written on it. It is all done by a magical quill," Snape explained.

Harry chortled bitterly. "I'd advise you to start looking at them then. Wouldn't want another wizard world saviour to grow up in a horrible home."

Snape was taken aback. Where had that Harry come from? He was sarcastic and…so much like him.

Snape nodded again, and motioned for Harry to continue. "I didn't know I was a wizard until Hagrid burst through the door of House on the Rocks. Vernon thought he could escape wizards." Harry smiled fondly. "How very wrong he was.

"Hagrid gave Dudley a pig tail and then told me all about the past I never knew I had. I didn't learn everything from him, but enough to give me a little comfort entering the wizarding world." Harry finished.

Snape soaked this all in. Harry, though he hadn't been physically abused, had been mentally and emotionally abused to make up for it...not to mention starving... "Did Vernon ever call you names?" He asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I can't remember a time he didn't. I don't think he's ever uttered my name before. Only 'the boy' or 'you,'" he answered.

Snape nodded absently. It all sounded so familiar…the same thing his insufferable excuse of a father would call him daily. A new wave of empathy flooded Snape's insides…he had changed so much in the past year as a person.
Dumbledore surely didn't know about this, did he? If so, he would pay a hefty toll for sending Harry back there year after year when he knew very well Harry was punished severely for the simplest things.

"Sir?" Harry asked, breaking Snape out of his reverie.

"Yes?" He answered.

"How er—how bad was it at your home?"

Snape sat back and thought for a minute. "A little worse than yours," he said finally. "My father would beat my mother and I. He hated magic…an excuse of a father and a pathetic Muggle. Always drunk, always angry, especially at me. 'I don' wan' no prissy girl for a son. I wan' 'im with meat on 'is bones, I wan' 'im to be tough. Not readin' stupi' books an' playin' a' the park all day.' He would say," Snape told. "I wasn't starved, but I wasn't well fed or taken care of, so I grew up fast. I started talking properly very early, to help diminish the drawl I inherited from my father."

Harry listened carefully, and Snape seemed satisfied when Harry could not detect a single hint of a drawl.

Sensing Snape did not wish to discuss it anymore, he asked, "When did you fall in love with my mum?"

Snape took in a sharp, inaudible breath. Of course the boy would want to know, it was only natural. But that didn't make it any easier to talk about. "The first time I met her," he answered quietly, looking just over Harry's shoulder. He couldn't meet those green eyes just yet. "I had told her she was a witch, after her sister ran off. We talked for hours. It was the first time I had a friend, and the first time I felt truly happy."

Harry smiled softly. He knew the feeling, the feeling of finally having his very first friend in his life. "I know what you did," he whispered. Snape looked sharply at him. "I know you told him about the prophecy."

Whatever colour Snape had quickly drained away. "Harry, you must unders-"

"I do understand," Harry interrupted. "I know that after you told Voldemort, you went straight to Dumbledore to ask for protection. I know that after they died, you did your best to protect me while keeping your role as a double spy. It's okay, I forgive you."

Snape had wanted to hear those words for a very long time. To see those emerald eyes staring straight into his, while telling him he was forgiven. The eyes didn't belong to the person he wanted to forgive him the most, but he was relieved Harry had forgiven him.

"Thank you, Harry. Do you feel better?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered.

"Very well, that is all, off you go," Snape dismissed. Finally, relief.