..O..

~ Chapter Two ~

What Was Lost and What Was Forgotten

...oOo...

Voldemort was gone, and the weight that had been put upon Harry's shoulders was now gone as well. However, the weight of the knowledge of what had been already lost did not lessen with Voldemort's demise, if anything the losses weighed heavier; now he could mourn those losses in full, without the possibility of impending doom to focus on, which subsequently blocked out the heartache. Harry thought he had mourned the loss of his parents, Sirius, and Cedric already, but apparently he had not; for their each of their sacrifices left unhealed wounds in his heart with their each of their absences, which were now torn open afresh, along with the new wounds left by Remus and Tonks, and Fred, and Colin, and even Snape.

Too many hurts, far too many losses, too much pressure building in his chest that needed to be let out somehow... yet tears would not come, nor would words – for what could be said? – and all that there was to be done was sleep and allow time to pass. As much as the celebrations of the others cheered him, it did not heal the ache, only distracted him from it, so, when he wandered up to Gryffindor Tower at midday, willing himself to make it there before the pressure destroyed him, he didn't even bother gathering up some clean clothes and just crawled into his usual four-poster bed.

He fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow...

Sleep, however, had been a fitful undertaking; plagued by nightmares and the faces of the people that had been lost; his parent's guiding him through the forest- Sirius as he fell through the veil- Remus and Tonks laying side by side, so peacefully that they could have been sleeping- "Harry?" Snape's rattling breath and his last words: 'You have your mother's eyes.'- "Harry!"

Harry flinched as a hand gripped his shoulder, giving him a little shake. His eyes shot open and Ron's tired face swam into view, illuminated by the pale sunlight that came through Gryffindor tower's windows.

"Sorry, mate..." said Ron, smiling ruefully, "Didn't want to wake you, but Hermione and Mum have been asking after you. Ginny too- well, everyone really... Mum said you have to eat sometime... you've been out of it for- er, about eighteen hours, I think." he sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as Harry nodded and pulled himself up into a sitting position.

"Um, were you-?" Ron hesitated, then shook his head, "How did you sleep?"

"Not very well," Harry admitted, his voice husky from sleep, rubbing his eyes, "Keep seeing their faces."

Ron thought about that for a moment, "Your parents?"

Harry shook his head, "Everyone."

"Oh..."

The pair sat together in silence for a long while.

"I reckon they're pretty proud of you, you know." said Ron, suddenly, "All of them would be proud."

Harry blinked, taking a moment for the words to wash over him. The negative part of his consciousness remarked that they could have been proud and still been alive... but the feeling was quickly squashed; for Ron was only tying to cheer him up, and Harry couldn't help smiling at him for his effort, "Thanks, Ron."

Ron smiled back, then wrinkled his nose at him as Harry wriggled across the bed to plant his feet on the floor.

"What?" asked Harry, wondering what happened.

"You stink." Said Ron, bluntly.

Harry took a sniff of himself.

Ah, so he did...

...oOo...

Half-an-hour later – after Harry had cleaned himself up and donned a thick, black cloak to protect him from the chill in the castle that day – the pair made their way down through the castle, passing a good part of the Hogwarts student body on the way, and a subdued Professor Flitwick, who clapped Harry on the wrist (though he supposed it would have been his shoulder if the little man could reach) and gave him a smile.

Once they reached the ground floor, Ron surprised Harry by leading him into the Great Hall, which was mostly empty of people, living or dead, sitting in clusters at their house tables, all four of which had been repositioned to their usual places. The rest of the Weasley family were huddled together at the far end of the Gryffindor table, along with Hermione, Neville and a few others that Harry couldn't put a name to. They didn't notice Harry and Ron enter.

Various bits of rubble and parts of the castle that had been damaged during the fight had been seemingly repaired. Broken architraves from the arched ceiling of the hall having been magicked back to their rightful places above, dented iron sconces had been popped back into shape and re-adhered to the walls, divotss made in the stone floor had been put back to their original state... or as 'original' as they had been before being destroyed.

Remus, Tonks, Fred, and the others had been moved away somewhere...

"Where did everyone..." Harry choked off, suddenly. He was going to say: "Where did everyone go?" but really, "Where were everyone's bodies moved to?" made more sense...

He couldn't bring himself to say that.

Ron seemed to understand though, his eyes tightening as he gave Harry a side-long look, "Madam Pomfrey turned the Hospital Wing into a morg- er- she turned it into a place for them- just for them. Everyone else who got hurt has been healed-up- Most of them, anyway... The few that haven't been have either been sent off to St. Mungo's or been put in the teacher's lounge- Oh, yeah – McGonagall turned Filch's favourite armchair in the teacher's lounge into a couple of canvas beds, he wasn't happy about it..."

Ron obviously wanted to talk about who was gone as much as Harry wanted to acknowledge it... of course Ron didn't, not so soon after Fred...

"Where's everyone else?" Harry questioned. The few people in the hall could barely add up to a few dozen... and people he had seen on their way down to the hall didn't make up the difference.

"Probably asleep still, mate. It's not even struck six yet..."

"In the evening?" said Harry, looking up at the palely lit clouds covering the sky in the enchanted ceiling.

"No. In the morning."

That explained the chill in the air. "I slept that long?"

Ron lifter an eyebrow, "Yeah, you were- hang on- Didn't I tell you that earlier? You were out for eighteen hours or so..."

Ron had said that, hadn't he? Harry pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, "Ah, yeah, you told me. Sorry. Must still be half asleep..."

"No worries..." said Ron, though he regarded him with some concern.

"Harry!" Hermione called, a tentative smile gracing her lips as she waved to them, motioning for them to come over. She had obviously been the first to notice the two of them standing there and, at her call, almost all eyes in the hall whipped around to look at them. Molly Weasley was up and trotting over to them within a heartbeat.

"Harry, dear!" Molly cried, cupping Harry's face in her hands and looking him over, "I was starting to worry... Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough..." Harry muttered, slightly embarrassed with her fussing over him.

Molly's eyes narrowed, not quite believing him, but let him get away with his untruth still, placing as hand on his back and guiding him back to the group at the table

"Well, then, let's get you something to eat... Hm?"

It took a moment for him to realise she was asking if he was hungry, as he squeezed in between Hermione and Ginny to sit, who each snatched one of his hands in theirs the moment he'd settled, and Ron answered before Harry had a chance to reply to her.

"Said he was starving not ten-minutes ago, Mum."

That was a lie; Harry felt like eating as much as he felt like staying awake – which was not at all; he was actually quite convinced that his bed was calling him back...

It would do him no good to starve though.

"I'm about the same as Harry, Mum." said George, a tight smile on his lips, "Wasting away..."

"Can I have pancakes, Mum?" Ginny piped up, tightening her grip on Harry's hand comfortingly.

"Yes, yes. Whatever you want, dears- Winky!"

Winky the house elf literally winked into existence at Molly's feet.

"You is calling Winky, Ma'am?"

"Yes. We would like some breakfast- it's early, I know, but would that be alright?"

"Yes! Winky is doing what the Missus wishes even if the time is early! What food is it the Missus wishes Winky to bring?"

There was a clamour as the group put in their orders with the tiny house elf, who was wide-eyed and looking vastly overwhelmed by the time she got around to Harry, who was the last of the group to put in a request, and he felt so sorry for her that he just asked her to bring whatever she thought he might like.

"Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir!" she said, a small bit of relief passing across her features, then she disappeared with a pop!.

...oOo...

By the time seven o'clock came around, the group were finishing off their breakfasts. Harry's – being Winky's choice – consisted of hot, honey and cinnamon porridge, toast, jam, and an assortment of fruit, which, he had to admit, had been perfect for him a that moment, as he could wolf it down as quickly as his new-found hunger had appeared once the smell of cinnamon had reached his nose.

Then he'd called her back for seconds.

Feeling much more alive, and less like an inferi, Harry talked with Hermione, who squeezed his hand much the same as Ginny had and did not ask him how he was feeling, for she seemed to know the truth just by looking at him, as she always did.

She told him that many of the younger students, those who were not hurt in the battle, had left Hogwarts and gone home. Quite a lot had decided to stay to help repair the castle too, although most who stayed were legal adults in the Wizarding world, thus not being compelled to have their parents lug them away – Neville had interrupted quite proudly at that point to tell Harry that his Nan had tried to force him to go home, but he had refused, and old Mrs. Longbottom had said she was proud of him for it- though she was still going to wallop him for being smart with her when she got her hands on him next time he saw her.

Luna had stayed at the castle as well, but she was outside with her father, Xenophilius, giving Hagrid a hand to repair his destroyed hut.

Apparently the Malfoys had slipped away during the night; they were nowhere to be found on Hogwarts property, and yet nobody saw them leave, and no one knew where they had gone. Kingsley Shacklebolt, newly elected Minister for Magic, suspected the three had returned to the Malfoy estate and he was sending some people there to check up on them, and to make sure they hadn't left the country... and wouldn't do so any time soon.

Eventually, the conversation turned to the casualties, as Harry knew it inevitably would. He forced himself to listen and willed away the tightness in his chest as Hermione told him that Andromeda Tonks would be coming to Hogwarts that day to make funeral arrangements for her daughter and Remus... and she was going to bring baby Teddy along with her, as she had no one sit for him for the day. And though the looming prospect of their funeral tightened the vice on his heart, the prospect of seeing his godson made Harry smile.

The Creevey's had been told of their son's death, and Dennis had gone home to be with them...

With all that had happened, even with Shacklebolt instated as temporary Minister of Magic, Minerva had left the castle during the evening before to make a statement to the Ministry in its entirety about the happenings at Hogwarts, and to claim her title as Headmistress, in lieu of the recent deaths of the two previous headmasters.

Harry silently hoped that she would tell them truth of it; that, yes, Snape had become headmaster on Voldemort's order, but the opportunity for such a position only came about because of Dumbledore's plan to protect the students of Hogwarts; their agreement for Snape to kill Dumbledore to gain Voldemort's trust...

The image of Snape's pale face, in those final moments before the spark had left the man's eyes, swam back into the forefront of his mind again – 'You have your mother's eyes...'.

"Will McGonagall arrange a funeral for Snape?" Harry asked, mostly of Hermione, but directing it to the others as well.

"I suppose she will." said Hermione with a nod, "He was-" she broke off abruptly, the colour rapidly draining from her face, eyes wide, "Oh no..." she looked around wildly, to the Weasleys, to Neville, who all wore a look of similar shocked realisation, "Did anyone go and- Oh no!"

Harry stared at her in confusion as tears stared forming in Hermione's eyes, "What happened?"

"Oh, Harry!" she squeaked, "With everything- Lupin and Tonks and Fred and everyone who was hurt and- Oh, how could I forget him!" she burst into tears, clutching at his arm, "I'm so sorry! It's all my fault! I should have remembered him..."

Harry was absolutely baffled, "What-? Hermione, I don't understand..." Looking around him, all he saw were expressions of varying amounts of guilt, "Forgot what, Hermione? Snape? But, he's- … oh."

They had forgotten to bring Snape back to the castle.

Snape's... body.

Harry's mind reeled a little at that; not even one person had remembered him? Remembered that he had died? Had no one cared enough to remember? Despite everything the man had done?

He felt sick again.

Hermione was sobbing openly while Molly patted her back comfortingly and cooed to her; "It's not your fault. We all forgot. It's terrible, yes, but we did..."

Someone still had to go and get the man. Go and bring him home- because Hogwarts had been his home, as much- no, more than it had been for Harry.

Harry stood.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione yelped, wiping her tears hurriedly and hopping up after him, "I'll go with you."

"Yeah, same here." said Ron, moving to follow suite, as were many of the others.

But, Harry shook his head stiffly, "No."

They froze.

"I think..." Harry began, wondering how to word what he wanted to say, "I think I'd rather bring him back myself. By myself..."

There was a long pause, glances were exchanged, and Mrs. Weasley stepped forward.

Then she hugged him.

"I think I understand, Harry, I do..." her voice was muffled as she spoke into his shoulder, "But, are you sure you don't want any of us to come? If- if he was the one that k-killed poor Severus, then... it won't be pleasant..."

"I want to," said Harry, as he shook his head again, fractionally, "I know what to expect... I was there." Molly's grip tightened around him – she mustn't have know that.

"I watched him die."

Molly made a strangled sound and released him, swiping at her eyes. She held his gaze for a moment, searching them for something, then nodded, just once, and turned back to her family (and extended family).

"Stop gawking and finish your breakfast!" she snapped at them.

They complied hurriedly enough, though Ron and Hermione held back. Harry gave them the most reassuring smile he could muster, which seemed to appease them both, before he made his was out of the hall.

...oOo...

Truth be told, Harry had forced himself to hold back his initial feelings when Hermione told him of their non-accomplishment. It had been ridiculous; on one hand he'd wanted to cry, and on the other he'd wanted to rant and rave about the injustice of it all.

Severus Snape had actually been forgotten. By everyone.

Even by me... Harry thought, guiltily, as he stood on the topmost stair of the stairway that descended down to the boat house.

Did Snape really deserve to be forgotten after everything that had happened? It was true that the man had never been a particularly pleasant person, but neither was his demeanour completely unjustified... Harry wasn't going to pretend to understand every action and reaction of Snape's that he had the opportunity to witness, but Harry thought that he certainly understood more about the man now then he ever had done so before.

Recollections of Snape's memories began playing through his mind once more, as he descended the stairway, memories witnessed through the pensive, both spied upon and freely given, and the man's final moments as well...

An abusive muggle father, no friends... not until he met Lily. Then he went off to Hogwarts, where everyone but Lily and his fellow Slytherins had refused to give him the time of day- unless it was the Marauders to pick on him for no good reason other than him being- well – himself. For not even his house affiliation could justify the way Harry's father had tormented him through school... interest in the dark arts or not.

That torment had continued on for most of his school life, and it never stopped – because no one wanted to stop it. Not even Dumbledore tried to stop it.

Until it finally ended his friendship with Lily.

Was that what drove him to join the Death Eaters? The loss of Harry's mother's friendship? She'd said to Snape that she didn't like his other friends; Mulciber, Malfoy – people who went on to become Death Eaters as well – had they driven him to it? Or had he chosen to do it without input from either side?

It seemed as if Snape had been caught in the middle for a very long time.

No, Snape was a truly complicated person to understand, but, at the same time, it was not so difficult to understand the complications that had put him there.

And Lily had, more or less, been the catalyst for it all.

Regardless of all of that, however, the fact remained that, without him, the war would never have ended – both times. Harry would never have been 'chosen' and Voldemort would not have been destroyed in the first war – his Horcruxes never discovered or found. Then, the second war... if not for Snape; Harry would have fallen off of his broom in his very first Quidditch match in his first year and that would have been the end of that. Voldemort would have reached the Philosopher's Stone and rebuilt himself, and his Horcruxes would have still gone undiscovered.

Snape was actually quite a hero, and Harry thought he should be hailed as one.

It was then, with that thought in mind and the decision to make sure that everyone knew the truth of it, that Harry entered the boat house...

...oOo...

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PS: This one is more than triple the size of the last. Maybe I should get a life... or a review, that would suffice to validate my existence. ;)