Chapter Two: Severus' Conundrum. As promised, it is longer than the first! :]
Severus Snape, or rather, his ghost, watched Harry sadly from a corner of the room. This was his fault. He had done this to his husband. He hadn't meant to leave. He frowned slightly. To be honest, he couldn't remember exactly how he'd died, just that they'd had to drag him, kicking and screaming, from his body.
"No! Harry needs me!"
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But it's your time, you have to go. He'll move on. There's someone else for him. Its destiny and it must go on. Let him go."
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of such thoughts. The memory didn't sit well with him, and he had bigger problems to deal with at the moment. Harry was not moving on, as the voice had promised. Most of his friends had died during the war, so there was no one to talk to, no one to confide in, no one to lessen the pain, no one to move on with. In his grief and loneliness he had grown sullen and angry. Five years had passed, but instead of getting better, he got worse.
The students he used to praise and cherish he now barely spoke to. He snapped at them in class when it was necessary, but otherwise, did not speak at all. None of them blamed him. Everyone seemed to understand his change in attitude. They all, instead of insulting him as they had done Severus, tried to cheer him up. Their efforts only served to make him angrier. His bitterness grew by the day and was threatening to consume him. He had even begun to resent Severus for leaving him in the first place.
As for the man Harry was supposed to be moving on with, Severus scoffed. He wasn't doing anything. He visited Harry, but nothing more than that. He was trying to give the widower time to grieve, but he was waiting too long. Soon, the damage being done to both men would be irreparable.
Severus could no longer bear to watch him wallow. It was time to pull him out of the pit of self-pity he had exiled himself to. But he would need help and lots of it. He floated to the chair. Harry was leaning back against it, staring up at the ceiling with blank eyes. Severus sighed. "I'm sorry Harry." He reached out and brushed his fingers against the ebony locks. Or tried to. His hand fell straight through the boy's head. His lips thinned, the only sign his face showed of anguish, and vanished.
Harry jerked up and glanced about the room. "Sev?" He pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed. No, of course not. He was just imagining things again.