"You have kept him alive, just so that he can die at the right moment?"
"Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?"
"Lately, only those whom I could not save," said Snape. He stood up. "You have used me."
"Meaning?"
"I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter —"
"But this is touching, Severus," said Dumbledore seriously. "Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"
"For him?" shouted Severus. "You have used Lily's name to keep me shackled, and yet you are surprised when I object to her son being prepared for slaughter!"
"Lily would have been proud of Harry for doing what's right," Dumbledore said, trying to descalate the situation.
"Lily did not give her life for Potter to throw it away," Severus retorted sharply, and yet, he was keenly aware that it would make no difference to the old man
"She wouldn't have needed to, if not for the prophecy."
The retort died on Severus' lips, his heart clenching painfully.
He stamped down his rising fury before he did something he wasn't he wouldn't regret but might damn them all in the end.
How dare he? The audacity! As if…
Severus needed no reminder of his part in Lily's death, not when he would forever wear the chains of his guilt. Everything he did, especially being forced to raise his head high and play his part was because of the shackles his conscience had wrapped aroun his soul.
No, it was Dumbledore who needed reminding this time. Albus Dumbledore, who could do no wrong, as if! When he was preparing his pawns for war and sacrifice, he who had forgotten true love even as he preached about it.
Severus became aware of his extended silence and dragged his mind to the present. His eyes focused on the Headmaster, who was surveying him through his half-moon glasses, well aware of the effect his words had on him.
No, it was time Dumbledore learned that he was not infallible.
Severus gave a short nod, as if conceding to the unspoken words, turned on his heel and left.
His gait mirrored the way his mind was racing as he stalked through the halls of Hogwarts, robes billowing. The frightsome expression on his face had students keeping their distance, but he hardly noticed.
Finally reaching the entrance disguised as the stone wall, he slowed his pace. The minute the entrance closed behind him, his stoic expression fell, revealing his face etched with fury and pain in equal measure.
He allowed his thoughts to pass through his brain, ranging from 'I'll kill him' to 'Lily, forgive me. I never knew.'
But beneath the fury and pain and guilt, beneath the incoherent mess of words crowding too fast to escape was one certain thought : 'I refuse. Harry Potter cannot die. Potter will not die.'
When Severus later remembered that night in a series of disjointed events, he was convinced that Gryffindor himself had gained possession of his body and mind, considering the brave, reckless, heroic and arrogant decision he had made. But Severus could not bring himself to regret it; even though his Slytherin mind shouted logic and reason and cunning and self-preservation at him.
Now that the decision was made, his mind calmed down enough for him to make a plan. As much as he wished to kidnap Potter and go on the run with him, he knew it was impossible.
Thinking about hiding from the Dark Lord had his hair standing on end, but with Dumbledore added to it? That caused a full-bodied shudder.
The tiny niggle of thought about informing the Dark Lord of his soul was ruthlessly squashed. If he did not kill Severus on the spot for even knowing the information, Lily would definitely kill him for trapping her son into a life of terrifying captivity.
No, what he needed was a well rounded plan that no one would think he'd make. He needed a plan with cunning, intelligence, bravery and loyalty.
In the end, the "plan" did not turn out to be as twisted as he thought it would be.
As Lily's son's ("Harry," his mind whispered) eyes met his own, green meeting black, his tears overflowing with memories, he held one back. The one that, according to Dumbledore, was the most important of all.
The plan, in all its simplicity, required all his strength to execute. His bravery to know that he might be resigning himself to live the rest of his life in a world reigned by the Dark Lord. His cunning to look past his emotions and to know that no matter how much it irked him, it was best to do nothing. His wisdom to know when enough was enough, and Lily Potter's son did not deserve the betrayal Dumbledore had planned.
And most of all, his loyalty. His loyalty to Lily, to look past his own need for revenge and know what Lily would truly want. His loyalty to Harry, who he'd been watching since he had been told that terrible secret; watching for traits that he found endearing, in hope that when the time came, he would not be a coward (and how he despised that word) and give in, in a foolhardy attempt to save the world and yet betray his closest friend.
And what was the result of this small difference?
When Harry lifted his head from the pensieve, his thought was not of his need to die. His brain did not halt at the idea of Voldemort's soul in him, pushing all thoughts out.
No, his mind went to Snape.
Snape who protected him and loved his mother, and hated him yet came to love him, only to be hated in return. The man who put his trust in two powerful men, made himself vulnerable to them, and got betrayed in return. The only man, perhaps, who could still tell him stories about his mother, provide an insight he'd never had the chance to get before.
And so he had rushed out with a bezoar in his pocket, ignoring the call from Neville and Ginny, reaching just in time to see Snape coughing, alive, not another life wasted because of him.
And nor would there be, because he planned to sacrifice himself to Voldemort, even as it pained him to do so. He knew what he needed to do and Harry was going to do so without regrets.
He only wished he'd a chance to have a relationship with his mother's best friend, but he was going to meet her anyway, and wasn't that much better?
The walk to his death was the longest walk of his life, but he emulated Professor Snape. Professor Snape, with his face pale but jaw set, after showing the Dark Mark to the Minister, agreed to return to Voldemort. Snape, who surely knew, as Harry did, about the possible threat to his life every time he faced Voldemort, even as an obedient servant.
And it was Snape who assured him that death would be painless, not by his shade but his own real, vivid memory of the snake attacking Snape, sending fiery poison through his veins that burned and burned, until Harry decided he deserved to be saved, and wasn't that just hypocritical?
It was not Dumbledore who greeted him on the Way Between Lives, it was his mum. His mum who cried upon seeing her son for the first time in seventeen years, telling him to thank her best friend and seek forgiveness on her behalf, because how could she ever have taken him for granted?
When Harry related this message and saw the way Snape's shoulders slumped, he understood, this was acceptance of forgiveness long overdue.
The End