A Hug Is All You Need

by Elza

When Snape decides to help Miss Lovegood look for her lost things, he cannot even begin to imagine how much her companionship will eventually mean to him. Under her influence, he is even willing to leave his comfort zone, discovering there is a world outside of Hogwarts, too, one he cannot get enough of.

21. Chapter 21

A/N: I'm soooo sorry for the endless wait for this new chapter, but first I was ill, which drained me of all energy, then I was swamped with work, and then I got addicted to playing Hogwarts Legacy, which I simply had to finish :D Also, I was a bit stuck with how to finish this chapter, but I finally worked it out, so I hope you all like it. If you haven't given up on me, that is. I don't want to promise regular updates but I am going to finish this story, no matter how long it takes. It's not in my nature to leave things unfinished. OK, enough talking, go and enjoy the new chapter :)

Following Shacklebolt's advice, and also to keep his mind busy before the dreaded arrival of the Ministry owl, Snape decided not to wait until after his trial and went to ask Luna for permission to take a few of her Moon Frogs home to experiment on as soon as he got settled in. Unsurprisingly, she was ecstatic about the idea, only making him promise the poor animals would not get hurt. He gave her his word without hesitation, but not before he had made absolutely sure that the few specimens he had collected included both males and females. That way, he might eventually get them to breed, thus returning Luna's frogs unharmed as promised, while still having ample animals to experiment on to his heart's content. After all, there was no way of knowing which other parts of the Moon Frogs would prove to be useful, and if he was to be thorough in his research, some frogs would, unfortunately, have to be sacrificed in the name of science.

As he had hoped, he found the work soothing. With his mind mostly on frogs, the days flew by mercifully quickly, and his thoughts strayed to the upcoming trial only exceptionally. There was just one occasion on which there was no escape from the ordeal he was about to face, and that was when Potter came to consult with him which memories he thought the jury should be allowed to see and which, on the other hand, should remain private. It was a humiliating conversation, and Snape was thankful Potter could sense it and did not prolong it more than was absolutely necessary.

As was to be expected, however, his talk with Potter was scarcely a taste of what awaited him at the actual trial, which took place several days later. Having always guarded the details of his personal life with an obsession bordering on paranoia, it caused him almost physical pain to have to share those details with a courtroom full of people. He half hoped the ground would just swallow him up so he would not have to suffer through it, but of course that was just wishful thinking on his part; instead, he dutifully answered dozens of impudent questions, he confirmed and clarified and elaborated, all the while doing his best to ignore the various looks people were giving him, from judgemental (several members of the Wizengamot) to sympathetic (Potter and Shacklebolt), and praying this whole charade would not, despite the Minister's assurances, get him landed in Azkaban.

It was almost evening by the time the court was ready to give its verdict, and Snape felt his heart beating madly in his chest and his stomach clench in fear as he waited for Shacklebolt, who was presiding over the trial (the Wizengamot was still officially leaderless, as the Dark Lord had unscrupulously usurped Dumbledore's position after the old man's death, and with all the trials after the war there had been no time to elect a new Chief Warlock), to speak.

"We have heard plentiful evidence here today," the bald man proclaimed after what seemed like an eternity, his deep voice resonating around the room. "It is now up to each of you to decide whether the defendant, Severus Snape, is guilty of Death Eater activity, namely the murder of Albus Dumbledore, or not. Therefore, would those in favour of clearing the defendant of all charges raise their hands?"

Cautiously, Snape glanced around. Many hands flew up into the air, surely more than a half, or even two-thirds, perhaps?

"Thank you. And now those in favour of conviction?"

Only a handful of people reacted this time, mostly those who had been eyeing Snape with hostility before. The knot in Snape's stomach slowly loosened as he heaved a sigh of relief. It was over. At long last, he would be a free man.

"The Wizengamot has spoken," boomed the Minister's voice. "Severus Snape, I hereby declare you free of all charges."

Their duty fulfilled, the Wizengamot clearly saw no point in lingering. A lot of shuffling and rustling of parchment being gathered ensued as the courtroom quickly began to empty. Some members of the Wizengamot stopped to congratulate Snape, some left without even looking at him. Soon, only he, Potter and Shacklebolt remained.

"Well, that went even better than I had anticipated," declared the Minister, seizing the chance to finally come and shake Snape's hand. "Congratulations, Snape. You deserve it. Your role in the Order was no secret to me, naturally, though I do regret to admit that until Harry vouched for you after your presumed death, I had always had doubts about your true loyalty. I think most of us did. But only now do I see the full extent of your sacrifice for the wizarding world. It's ... admirable, and that's an understatement. If it hadn't been for you, who knows how the war might have ended? The least I can do is push for an Order of Merlin for you. Second Class, or perhaps even First if I can convince enough members of the Wizengamot. You've seen them today. Some, especially those who had lost someone dear to them in the war, would have gladly sent you to Azkaban. Some have agreed only tentatively to let you walk free. Best to give them time to process today's events, I think, and only then approach them with the request. But I shall do my best, you have my word."

"Thank you, Minister," said Snape, though at that moment he was too tired, both mentally and physically, to care about Orders of Merlin of any kind. All he could register was that he had been freed; everything else was just a side issue.

"Don't thank me yet," Shacklebolt waved his hand dismissively. "I'll send you an owl once I have achieved progress in the matter. Until then, make the most of your new life. I'm looking forward to hearing how far you manage to get with those Moon Frogs. Have a good evening."

Giving Snape a nod, the Minister exited the room. Exhaustedly, Snape turned to Potter, resigned to surviving the last of the formalities and hoping to make them as quick as possible.

"Congratulations, Professor," the boy said, smiling shyly. "I bet you're glad it's over. It must've been really stressful."

Snape shrugged. "One has to be prepared to make sacrifices."

"I wish you hadn't had to. You've made enough of them already."

"What is one more, then? I have been acquitted, which is all that matters."

"I can't believe some of the Wizengamot still thought you guilty, though. After seeing what you'd done for them. For all of us."

"After what the Minister has said, I do not find it surprising at all. They are obviously blinded by grief. All they want is punishment for anyone associated with the Dark Lord. I doubt they really heard half of what had been said today, their only criterion being that I have a Dark Mark on my arm."

"The Weasleys have lost Fred but don't want to see you punished for it. After I gave them a brief update on what I'd seen in your memories, I mean."

Snape shook his head in disbelief. "What on earth has come over you, Potter? If I did not know better, I would think you were striving to become my champion."

"Bizarre, isn't it?" said Potter, turning the notion over in his mind and smiling at the sheer absurdity of it. "But seriously, I'm just trying to right as many wrongs as I can. And, as it turns out, most wrongs have been done to you."

"I see. How very noble of you."

"Not noble, just fair. After all you've done to protect me, it's only right that I stand up for you whenever I can."

Although Snape was now more resilient to Potter's change of attitude towards him, at this point he decided he had heard more than he could handle.

"All right, Potter, enough of the sentiments," he snapped. "I am exhausted and I have another matter to attend to. So if you would excuse me..."

"Oh, right. I'm sorry for keeping you. But ... if you ever need anything, be sure to let me know. I can always put in a word with the Minister."

Snape nodded. "I shall bear it in mind. Good night, Potter. And ... thank you."

He strode out of the room, feeling somewhat strange. Not only had he just had a relatively civil conversation with Potter without even trying too hard not to insult him, but on a sudden impulse he had even thanked him. It must be the exhaustion.

Although the obvious solution in his state would have been to get a good night's sleep and visit the Lovegoods in the morning, he did not want to take any chances. While all reporters were banned from attending trials, it was almost a given that at least one member of the Wizengamot was being interviewed at this very moment in return for a hefty sum. It was true the Lovegoods did not subscribe to the Daily Prophet, but they might just get an unexpected visitor, said visitor might talk and... No, better not risk it. Not to mention that he had promised Luna to inform her about his verdict right away (unless, of course, he was led out of the courtroom in shackles), and he was not about to bring her worry by not turning up. He did not wish to fall asleep while talking to her, however, so he stopped at home to drink a Wideye Potion, and only then Apparated into the Lovegoods' garden.

As he rapped the knocker in the shape of an eagle, thanks to the potion's effects he was already wide awake again, feeling nearly as nervous as before his trial. Unwilling to stress himself by two things at once, until this moment he had been doing his best to suppress any thoughts about the outcome of his talk with Luna, but now that his first worry was over, the second kicked in with full force. What if the confession he was about to make disgusted the girl to such a degree that she would cut off their friendship? Having spent several days in her care, he felt they had become closer than ever before, so losing her at this point was something he dared not even imagine. Then again, he reasoned, if Potter had been able to forgive him, perhaps there was a chance that she could, too. Perhaps she-

He did not get any further than that in his speculations, however, for at that moment the very cause of his distress opened the door.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, her smile so dazzling that Snape almost forgot something had been bothering him. "Dad and I were hoping you could still make it. Did they keep you there all day? Is it because they found your tale so fascinating they couldn't get enough of it?"

For a moment it occurred to Snape whether Luna had somehow learned the art of irony while he was gone, but he immediately discarded the idea as absurd; it was far more probable she was simply being her usual naïve self.

"Indeed," he smirked. "Some of them have even invited me to their houses to repeat it to their grandchildren as a bedtime story."

Unsurprisingly, Luna took his joke at face value.

"How sweet! I'd love to hear it too someday, if you'd agree to tell me. I overheard Harry saying a few bits and pieces to Voldemort before he killed him, but it's nowhere near the same as if you tell me yourself."

Snape felt a fresh wave of fear wash over him at her statement. This was it, there was no going back once the words left his mouth. The only thing he could hope for was that Luna already knew who had told the Dark Lord about the prophecy from Potter, for there was no knowing what the boy might have said that night. Praying it was so, he took a deep calming breath and then, before he could change his mind, said, "As a matter of fact, I can grant you your wish tonight, provided you are not too tired."

"Ooh, you'd really do that? I can't wait! Come in, Dad's already pouring us all Dirigible Plum brandy to celebrate."

Obediently, Snape stepped into the Lovegood's circular kitchen, where he was immediately greeted by Luna's father.

"Hello, Severus!" he cried, clapping Snape on the shoulder as he enthusiastically shook his hand. "Glad to see you back from the dragons' den! Those old buffers in the Wizengamot may be a bunch of fools, but I was sure even they would not be so stupid not to recognise an innocent man when they saw one. Still, this calls for a celebration! Will you have some brandy? We distil it ourselves, from the Dirigible Plums in our garden."

"Then I shall certainly have to try it," said Snape, already familiar with some of the Lovegoods' homemade products, which usually tasted absolutely disgusting the first time he put them in his mouth, but somehow became better and better the more he consumed them.

"Splendid!" beamed Xeno, immediately grabbing two glasses off the kitchen table, one of which he handed to him, the other to Luna. Finally, he took a third one for himself and raised it. "So – to freedom!"

"To freedom!" echoed Luna, raising her own glass. Snape mimicked her, minus the proclamation, then took a careful sip.

His eyes watered.

And he coughed.

And coughed.

And coughed.

"What's the matter with him?" he heard Xeno ask. "I haven't made it too strong, have I?"

"No, Dad, it's perfect, as usual. Maybe it just needs a bit of getting used to, though."

A minute or so later, Snape finally got over his coughing fit, dried his eyes, and was astonished to see that both Luna and her father had already drained their glasses.

"How ... how is it you are not affected?" he rasped. Until now, he had been convinced nothing regarding alcohol could surprise him, having been offered various oddities while visiting Malfoy Manor, but this was another level entirely.

"The first sip might be a bit of a shock," said Luna sympathetically. "But take a few more and you'll be all right."

Snape's first instinct was to decline, not wishing to continue embarrassing himself further, but his competitive nature would not let him. If Luna, being a girl and pretty much still a child, could handle it, so could he. Therefore, he only nodded and, bracing himself for the worst, took another sip. Immediately, his eyes filled with tears again and his throat burned as if it were on fire, but at least he did not start coughing, which was certainly an improvement.

The third sip caused a pleasant warmth to spread all through his body.

The fourth made him slightly light-headed.

And after the fifth he would even go as far as saying that he actually liked the taste.

Before he knew it, his glass was empty, which Xeno took as a sign to pour everyone another round. For a moment, Snape hesitated before accepting; as a spy, he had always been extremely careful to remain in control at all times, which applied to alcohol as much as anything else, but the Dark Lord was gone now, he had just been given a chance to start a new life, so he would hardly find a better occasion to finally loosen up a little than now. Merlin knew his nerves needed it; he was already feeling much calmer after the first glass, and would surely feel even better after the second. Therefore, he gratefully took Xeno up on his offer, but was slightly disconcerted to see Luna do the same.

"Aren't you a little too young to be drinking something so strong, Luna?" he asked, knowing he sounded like an overprotective father again, but since the girl's biological father was clearly being irresponsible, somebody had to step in.

"You mean this?" Luna pointed at her glass, as if seeking assurance they were both speaking about the same thing. "Oh, but this isn't really alcohol. I see it more as medicine. Ever since I can remember, Dad's been giving it to me whenever I had a sore throat. It's just as effective as a Pepper-Up Potion, and cheaper, too."

Regretting he had asked at all, Snape closed his eyes for a moment and mentally counted to three, doing his best to suppress the anger that Luna's response had provoked, as he did not want to make bad blood by giving Xeno a piece of his mind. No wonder Luna often seemed to live in another reality, being given alcohol from a young age.

"By the way, Dad," the girl continued, "Severus has promised to tell us his full story tonight, the one he showed the court in the Pensieve. Isn't it exciting?"

"That's excellent news indeed!" agreed her father, his eyes shining (though that might also have been the alcohol kicking in). "And in that case I have a suggestion: if you would agree, Severus, I could get your story out in print by morning. Merlin knows how those bunglers in the Daily Prophet will twist everything to suit their needs, but if you want the public to know the truth, the Quibbler will take care of it."

Snape did not have to think twice about his answer. Although the Quibbler was well known for writing mostly nonsense, as Xeno had shown with Potter as well as during the Dark Lord's reign, at least before Luna had been taken away from him to shut him up, he was capable of serious journalism, too. Which was why he gratefully accepted the offer, and as soon as Xeno found a quill and parchment to take notes on, they all sat down around the kitchen table and he launched into his narrative, eager to get it over and done with to see how Luna would react. So concentrated was he on choosing the right words (all the while regretting the Lovegoods did not own a Pensieve, which would have made everything much easier) that he even forgot all about his issue with the brandy; in fact, he was on his fourth glass by the time he finished, finding that the alcohol really helped him loosen his tongue, especially when he got to those parts of his life he would gladly skip but knew he could not.

"Well then, that is certainly something," said Xeno reverently once Snape was done, looking like he had struck a gold vein. "I was convinced nothing could ever beat Harry's story, but this... Our readers will be queuing to buy this issue, of that I'm sure! But there's so little time! Mind if I leave you two here and head upstairs? I have to start writing immediately if I'm to finish by morning!"

And, not even waiting for confirmation, he hastily collected his notes and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Snape and Luna alone.

Despite the four glasses of brandy, Snape was instantly overcome by anxiety again. He felt his heart hammering in his chest as he glanced over at Luna, hoping she would say something, anything. Even if she told him she never wanted to see him again, it would still be better than this oppressive silence.

Luckily, she did not disappoint.

"Ooh, that was ever so romantic!" she exclaimed. "Just like an ancient tragedy!"

Snape looked at her in disbelief. Relieved as he was that she did not condemn him straight away, he failed to grasp that of all the things she could have picked up on, she had chosen this.

"Well, yes, perhaps," he muttered uncomfortably, feeling his cheeks growing slightly hot, which he was quite sure was not caused by the brandy. It had been embarrassing enough to be questioned about Lily in front of the entire Wizengamot a mere few hours before, and it was even more so now. But as he would not find peace until he was absolutely certain what Luna thought about his indirect role in the Potters' deaths, the girl's observation actually made it easier for him to breach the topic, albeit no less humiliating or stressful.

"Nevertheless, it is no one's fault but my own that she is dead," he continued shakily. "What I did was unforgivable. If it had not been for me, if I had not brought the Dark Lord the prophecy, he would never have gone hunting after the Potters. I would therefore understand if, in light of this revelation, you no longer wished to ... to associate with me."

His voice almost broke on the last words, and he was unable to meet Luna's gaze. Instead he played with his glass, resignedly awaiting her response, and he all but flinched when she finally spoke.

"Oh, I've known about that since the end of my fifth year," she said dismissively. "Harry told some of us then. But we all make mistakes, don't we? What is important is that we learn from them, and you've turned your whole life around because of it. Who knows, maybe you'd still be Voldemort's supporter if you hadn't brought him that prophecy. So, in a way, it's good you did, isn't it? If you think about it, we probably wouldn't even be friends if you hadn't, so it's kind of silly to stop being friends because you had." She let out a ringing laugh. "Wow, that gets your head spinning, doesn't it?"

Snape's head was indeed spinning, though it was hard to tell whether from Luna's complicated deduction or from the brandy that seemed to suddenly cloud his senses now that his worries had been dispelled. He felt the enormous relief he was experiencing must be practically radiating off him, but he did not care; all that mattered was that Luna did not want to discontinue their friendship, and if she could see how happy that made him ... well, she probably knew, anyway. She always knew.

"You are ... too kind," he slurred, finding that his tongue did not cooperate as well as he would have liked. "I do not deserve it."

"Hmm, and I'd say you deserve only the best," countered Luna. "But we can't both be right, can we?"

"I have always admired your ... tendency to always see the good side of everything, be it people or situations," said Snape evasively. "Inevitably, however, it will bring you nothing but disappointment."

"Only if I allow it to. After Mum died, I was sad for a long time. But I also found that nothing could really hurt me anymore. So now I take life as it comes, both the good things and the bad, but when you think about it, are bad things really bad? Or good things good? Or is the secret in the way we look at them? Most people felt sorry for me because my dormmates hid my things but for me it was more like a game. Maybe you could try looking at life the same way. Maybe you'll smile more if you do. I like it when you smile."

Snape did smile then, but somewhat sadly.

"I do not think your method would be successful in my case. I have lost two people I cared about, both by my doing, which, in theory, ought to give me a better starting point, but it has not made me any less resistant to negative emotions. I may have learned to empty my mind when necessary but, although I rarely show it, I am still affected by unpleasant situations or people like the next man."

"And I'm glad I sometimes get to see the real you. The nice you. Not the you with the mask you had to wear in class. And as for the negative emotions, I do see improvement. More often than before, you just let things slide, instead of getting angry about them. Like today, with the brandy."

Snape grimaced. "Perhaps, but I would advise you not to test my patience with that. I still do not feel comfortable seeing you drink something s- so strong."

His tongue stumbled on the many s-words, which made Luna giggle.

"I'd say it's you we need to worry about, don't you think? You will stay the night, of course. It wouldn't be right to let you Apparate like this."

"That is very kind of you, but I am fine, I assure you. I would, however, appreciate some fresh air, so may I suggest we continue our talk in the garden?"

Having said that, he made to get up, but immediately found what an extremely bad idea that was. It was as if the circular room had turned into a carousel, and a very fast one at that. Only with incredible effort did he manage to sit back down again before his legs got tied into a knot.

"How about I help you upstairs?" said Luna, smiling indulgently.

Humiliating as it was, Snape had to admit defeat, resignedly allowing Luna to lead him up the seemingly endless spiral staircase to her room. He could not help but remember the last time she had done this, though on those occasions the cause of his inability to walk had been somewhat more heroic. Still, although he was struggling to admit it even to himself, a small part of him seemed to be enjoying the attention. All his adult life, and most of his childhood, too, he had been on his own, so, if anything, it had always been him who had looked out for others, never the other way round. Now, however, he was the one who was being mothered. If he had not been so drunk and so tired, he would probably have protested, but, as it was, he only watched as Luna tucked transfigured his robes into a nightshirt (black), tucked him in and wished him good night. His last thought, before he fell into a brandy-induced coma, was that such care would, in fact, be frighteningly easy to get used to.