I don't own it.
A huge thanks to all of you who have reviewed nicely. I'm getting some flames over on P&S because of apparent bad story structure. Any opinions?
This chapter is short - it's almost more of an interlude than anything.
Enjoy, and thanks for reading!
Defeating the Dark Lord: an 11 part chronicle.
Aftermath
Harry stared at the empty road.
Then he went back inside, let Dudley out of the cupboard, untied Vernon, and sat Petunia down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea.
That done, he made his way outside, turned in another dizzying spiral of light and sound, and appeared in the Gryffindor Common Room.
Deciding it was probably best to give Severus some space, Harry made his way slowly down to the kitchens, where he pilfered an apple from the fruit bowl and wandered back up to the Entrance Hall, steadily munching.
From there he took the staircase to the dungeons, working his way further in and further down along the dark hallways until he came to the door they'd used a hundred times before.
He pressed his hand to the panel, and the door swung open.
Harry entered the small antechamber, sat at the high bench, and peered through the viewing window into the next room.
Severus was stripped down to his shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled to the elbows, damp hair combed back from a face glistening with sweat. He was battling three of the Mastery-level training dummies - no magic, no weapons - just simple unarmed combat. Watching the man fight was a lesson in itself - he moved like silk and steel, combining smooth speed with a raw power that was breathtaking.
Snape dispatched his second opponent with a quick wrench to the neck vertebrae, and ducked a high kick from the last dummy still standing. Shooting out a hand, he grasped the leg as it came down. There was a twist and a sharp crack, and the dummy collapsed to the floor with a dislocated knee joint.
Severus stood back, watching dispassionately as the dummy slowly regained its footing, bracing itself against the wall.
His lip curled in a snarl; one step, two; and he leapt, feet lashing out - the kick caught the dummy square in the chest, sending it stumbling back against the wall. As his feet hit the ground, his hand shot out, fingers curled, and the heel of his hand met the dummy's nose, breaking it and sending bone shards up into its brain, killing it instantly.
The dummy collapsed as Snape bent over, hands on his knees, panting. Between gasps, he spoke one word, "Clear."
The dummies vanished.
Snape straightened up; grabbing the towel hanging on the inside of the door, he walked through to the antechamber, and looked highly unsurprised to see Harry sitting at the bench.
He wiped his face with the towel and draped it around his neck before joining Harry at the bench.
"That feels better," he murmured.
"It looked like it did you some good."
"Handy for anger management."
"Mmm-hmmm," Harry made a hum of agreement.
"I am not my father."
"I know."
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