Chapter 6

The only indication of the pressure Draco Malfoy was under was that he was even paler than usual. He stood up straight between his mother and father as they awaited their trial. Draco had heard that Potter would be testifying for them; whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, he did not know.

Harry Potter. Or should he say Harry Snape now? The whole wizarding world was in uproar over the news; how could an ex-Death Eater, the murderer of Albus Dumbledore, be the father of the Chosen One? Most people found the whole thing sweet, and chalked Snape's past up to trying to protect his son. Draco scoffed at the thought. He knew that at least once, Snape had been a true Death Eater. His father had told him. But Snape sure had them all fooled.

As Potter entered the courtroom, their eyes met for a moment, before Potter broke their held gaze. Draco sneered, though quickly put on a contrite face (just as his father had taught him) as the trial commenced.

Draco's eyes didn't leave Potter as Potter spoke on his behalf; spoke about their sixth year, the year he was supposed to kill Albus Dumbledore, the year Snape had killed Dumbledore. Draco still felt numb at the thought. It had seemed to be so easy for Snape to cast the curse, which zapped the life of the old Headmaster, to fulfill his Unbreakable Vow. And yet though this past year, he had felt something more in Snape. Something had changed, and now he knew what.

Malfoy Manor, August 1997

Sitting quietly in the corner of the living room where the Death Eaters had gathered, Draco stared into the fire as he listened to how Potter had eluded them again. Potter's dumb luck must have come into play, Draco snorted to himself.

"Ah, Severus," he heard his aunt drawl and quickly turned around. Ever since Dumbledore's murder, Draco had felt a strange kind of fascination with Snape. Perhaps it was the fact that Snape, his teacher and Head of House, represented the reality of his choices, the difference between the cocky boy he had been at school and the confused young man he was now.

Snape's upper lip curled as he inclined his head in greeting. He had never liked Aunt Bella, Draco knew, nor was he afraid of her like the others.

"Did you hear about Rowle and Dolohov, Severus?" Avery asked as he lounged upon a sofa, his booted feet upon the coffee table Narcissa had always made sure was sparkling and a bottle of Lucius' finest wine in his hands. Draco turned away, disgusted, but continued to stare at Snape.

"I do not have time for idle gossip, Avery," Snape said dismissively.

Avery either didn't care or was too drunk to pay attention as he continued: "Seems they bumped into Potter and his little friends."

Snape froze for barely an instant, and his fist clenched. "Indeed?"

"Hmm" continued Avery, "tracked them down when they activated the taboo in some Muggle café but apparently Potter obliviated them. Not very well, mind." Avery chuckled humorlessly, "The Dark Lord is not happy."

Snape's fist slowly unclenched as Avery finished. He began to walk towards the fire where Draco sat and Draco quickly looked away. Despite all his observations of Snape, Draco couldn't look him in the eye. In fact, he could barely look at anyone in the eye nowadays.

"What do you think of Potter, Draco?" Draco jumped as Snape addressed him.

"He'll be caught eventually," Draco said dully.

"Do you think his friends are with him?"

Draco shrugged.

"Without his friends…" Snape trailed off. Something in his tone made Draco look up at him. Snape was looking into the depths of the fire absently, as if he had forgotten Draco was still there. He was paler than usual.

Snape suddenly turned and looked Draco directly in the eye, before Draco could look away. "Potter is the same age as you." The words were said emotionlessly.

"Potter doesn't have a family," Draco replied beseechingly.

Snape's eyes seemed to bore into him as a silent communication seemed to take place between them. Then Snape swept away and Draco was left to ponder Snape's motives. Snape was worried about Potter, his mask had slipped just enough for Draco to see that. Why would Dumbeldore's murderer be worried about Harry Potter, and what did he want Draco to do?

Malfoy Manor, March 1998

Draco had watched day after day as Snape began to look gaunter and paler. The Carrows seemed to be taking their toll on him, as they did on everyone. Draco was disgusted the happenings at Hogwarts; whatever else he had wanted, he had never wanted the people he knew to suffer as they did. Longbottom, Finnigan, the Gryffindors all seemed to be taking the brunt of it, and Draco couldn't help but feel pity for them.

Snape's detentions seemed reasonably tamer. He would set them scrubbing floors with a toothbrush or going into the Forbidden Forest, all detentions given before. Draco had heard the Carrows complaining about how Snape seemed to stalk the halls all night, catching all the wrong doers before they could.

Draco watched and wondered and when Potter was captured, he couldn't look him in the eye. He didn't want to. And he realized he didn't want Potter to die. He lied for him. When Snape came to visit them after their confinement to the Manor, Draco saw the nearly completely concealed relief in his eyes and the nearly imperceptible nod of gratitude in his direction.

The Present

"Not guilty!" came the verdict and Draco breathed a sigh of supreme relief. Potter and Snape were waiting outside the courtroom. Potter came up to him.

"Draco," he said cordially, holding out his hand.

Draco stared at it. Seven years later and the hero of the wizarding world finally wanted to shake his hand. The Malfoy thing to do would be to shake it since Potter was a hero now, but it was Draco who took the hand and shook it.

Ron Weasley was uncharacteristically quiet as he sat at his place for dinner at the Burrow. The table was as rowdy as ever; Fred and George making jokes loudly, Percy and his father talking about the new happenings at the Ministry, Hermione chattering away with Remus, and his mother cooing over Tonks' baby whilst giving Fleur pointed glances. The one anomaly was sitting right in front of him in the form of a sallow, greasy haired man. None other than his best friend's father.

Harry had always had a somewhat special relationship with Snape. Ron wasn't thick enough not to notice Harry's frequent disappearances, which he claimed were 'detentions', nor the number of times he mentioned "Professor Snape" in conversation. Ron had had a cordial relationship with Snape throughout the years; he had respected the man and for Harry's sake, didn't take part in calling Snape an ugly greasy git as so many others did.

Ron watched Harry's bright smile as he chatted with Sirius, though he kept turning to Snape as if to make sure the man was still there. Shifting his food in his plate, Ron remembered back to that terrible time, just after Snape had killed Dumbledore.

1998

Ron and Hermione walked over to where Harry was sitting next to the lake. They had already decided what they were going to say to him, as per Hermione's script.

"Harry, Ron and I have noticed that you've been very quiet lately," Hermione began.

"Even more than when you usually have something bothering you, mate," Ron added.

"Does it have something to do with that night on the tower?" Hermione asked carefully.

"No Hermione, I see people I care about get murdered by – get murdered every day," Harry said sarcastically. He sighed, before quietly saying, "I'm sorry Hermione, it's nothing."

"Harry, do you know who murdered Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, sitting beside him. Ron sat on his other side.

"You can trust us, mate," Ron added, "We could tell you were hiding something from Lupin."

Harry looked at them, before turning away to look out over the lake. "It was Snape," he finally said. "Snape was the one who killed him." Harry's voice seemed to crack at the end and he buried his head in his knees. Hiding their shock for the time being, Hermione cautiously put an arm around Harry while Ron pat him on the back. They sat like that for a while, until dusk hit and it was time to go inside.

The Present

Later, they had discussed the matter extensively, though could not come up with a conclusion. When the time came to hut the horcruxes, all thoughts of Snape were driven from their minds.

The group that had come to remove Harry from Privet Drive had been Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Mad-eye, Bill, Fleur and Kingsley. Despite the fact that Voldemort was expecting them, they all made it back to the Burrow safely, except for George's ear.

After the wedding, they had escaped to Grimmauld Place, which had been evacuated since Dumbledore's death. There, they had found out about R.A.B and had had Sirius, who had joined them to check up on them, track down Mundugus.

Ron had been surprised to note that Sirius had seemed a bit relieved at Snape's appointment as Headmaster.

"At least he's on our side," Sirius had shrugged.

The trio exchanged glances and Harry's fist clenched but he didn't say anything.

Hermione said to him later that it seemed odd that out of all people, Sirius seemed to trust Snape.

The trio recovered the locket from Umbridge and they went on a camping trip. Harry's never ending supply of Potions had helped. Although Ron was ashamed to say he left, he did come back. They were a step closer after breaking into Gringotts, and at last the final battle commenced. They recovered the diadem, and the Weasleys would be forever thankful to Moody for saving Fred from a blast of debris.

And then it was all over, and suddenly Snape was Harry's father.

Ron looked across the table and, for the first time in many years, saw that his best friend was actually happy. Harry had Snape, and Sirius, was godfather to Teddy Lupin, had Ginny and him and Hermione and the Weasleys…

Ron grinned contentedly to himself as he dug into the pudding. All was well.

A/N: The Epilogue is all that's left now!