A/N: oof, it's been a hot minute, hasn't it? I'm sorry for the delay. I wish I had a good excuse but the truth is that I got entirely too wrapped up in reading a certain manwha. (Omniscient reader's viewpoint is to die for, guys!) but since I reached the end of that, I finished the new chapter today. Enjoy!

He might of all justly bereft

Chapter 19

Snape sighed in mild frustration when he heard a knock on his door. It seemed as if everyone in this bloody castle suddenly knew exactly where his office was whilst – in previous years – he was avoided like the plague. It likely had everything to do with Potter and the asinine notion that he would come to harm under Snape's care. As if the boy had been safe in the arms of Gryffindor.

It wasn't entirely fair, though. Snape was not wholly unhappy that people came to find him more. Certainly, he was oftentimes surly and he appreciated his alone time but a light-hearted conversation with his colleagues from time to time did wonders to alleviate his stress and boredom.

"Enter," he said, trying to keep his earlier annoyance out of his voice. He wasn't sure yet what would enter but be it student or colleague, he would do his best to at least appear neutral.

That intention crashed and burned as soon as the door opened.

"Lupin," Snape growled. "Have you gotten lost on your way to the dark forest?"

Lupin seemed decidedly uneasy. "Now, Severus," he said softly. "That's a bit uncalled for, isn't it?"

Snape wanted to hurl some more insults at the wolf when Potter's words invaded his mind. 'Maybe he's just not very happy.'

Snape deflated. Maybe he didn't need to be a bully to Lupin. Not as long as he was putting in an effort to be cordial, at least. He took a seat in front of the small hearth but couldn't find it in himself to gesture to the chair opposite of him for Lupin to sit in. He could if he wanted to but Snape was not going to invite him. "What do you want from me?"

Sure, it was hard to keep the hatred completely from his voice but that much, the wolf should surely understand. And sure enough, he had the grace to ignore Snape's animosity. Merlin knows that Black would've simply fanned the flames. He took the seat opposite Snape and set a small box wrapped in a white cloth on his table. Snape just stared at it.

"Er, I thought I'd bring some cookies," Lupin said nervously. "As a peace offering of sorts, I suppose."

It was baffling how a man so fragile and demure could turn into a dangerous monster every month but Snape was not about to forget that detail.

"I don't particularly care for sweets, Lupin," Snape growled. "And I assume you're not here to share those with me so out with it already."

Lupin sighed. "As you wish, Severus," he said. "I'm here to talk to you about Harry."

Of course. It was almost as if each and every part of Snape's life was intricately woven into Potter's. Some way or another, at least. As much as he wanted to help the boy right now, having a single day not be coloured in Potter aesthetics would be welcome. Snape waved his hand. "Anna," he called. "Please bring us some tea."

"I won't be long," Lupin interjected. "I know you don't like me here."

"Discussions involving Potter are rarely short or simple, Lupin," Snape said. "It will be fine. The moon is barely a sliver in the sky at the moment."

"It would be fine even if it wasn't," Lupin said, a small smile on his lips offending Snape greatly. "Thanks to the potion you make for me every month."

"It is part of my job," Snape told him. "And a personal favour to the headmaster."

"Ah," Lupin said. "Then I will accept the gesture as it was intended. Thank you for the tea."

Indeed, a pot and two cups had now appeared on Snape's table and Lupin didn't hesitate to fill the cup nearest to him. He also unwrapped the small box and opened it to reveal an array of cookies. He grabbed a few and put them on his saucer. The man appeared to be stalling.

"I hear that Potter's patronus lessons have been going well," Snape said, trying to get the conversation going.

"They have," Lupin replied. "For a while, at least. Though his progress seems to have regressed lately."

Snape sighed. "Why do you suppose that happened?" He had a pretty good idea, himself but he wanted to know how much Lupin knew. And how good he was at his job, really.

"The prime reason likely has to do with the memory he chose," Lupin said. He dipped the cookie in his tea and Snape did his best to ignore the horrendous transgression. "It was probably too fresh and unstable. Had he used a memory from his past, it would have been stronger but recent memories, especially those of teenagers, are prone to change tone in an instance."

"I do know that," Snape replied. "And you are likely correct." He thought back to the moment Daphne had kissed Potter and imagined that it had been a good memory then. But as soon as she betrayed him, it had been tarnished.

"What worries me more is the bigger picture," Lupin said.

Snape took a sip from his own tea. "Which is?"

Lupin's expression seemed somewhat pained when he met Snape's gaze. "Severus," he said. "I think that Harry must not have a very happy home life if he can't even summon a simple shield patronus."

"It is a difficult spell," Snape said. He was very certain that Potter didn't want him to blab about his past and problems. He had promised as much.

"It is," Lupin agreed. "But you and I both know that he has both the talent and the raw, magical power. Not to mention that he improved leaps and bounds as soon as hedidhave a happy enough memory. Hecando this. All that is holding him back is… happiness."

Snape leaned back into his chair. "You might be right," he said. "It is worrisome, indeed. Have you perhaps tried to talk to Potter about this?" For a moment, Snape was able to forget his animosity towards the werewolf. This man had already earned Potter's trust. And he was more easy to talk to than Snape was. Not only that, but he had been a friend of Potter's father and would likely move heaven and earth to do right by the boy. If there was one adult best suited for Potter to talk to about his issues, it would be Lupin. But Snape would never tell the wolf himself."

"I haven't," Lupin confessed. "Not outright, at least. I'm not sure I have the right to do so. Not after all this time."

Snape sneered. "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you'd best cut it out right now."

Lupin looked up. "Excuse me?"

"I have enough students coming to me to complain about their ineptitude and making self-deprecating comments. I don't need my colleagues to do the same." Snape took another sip of tea and watched as Lupin's gaze fell to the floor.

"As it stands," Snape continued. "you were not in the position to raise a child. You suffer from an affliction that is not your fault by any means. And at the time, you were grieving the loss of all of your friends. As the most emotional one of your group, I suspect that was… hard on you."

Damn it all. The wolf's eyes were glistening. If he started to cry, Snape would flee to his own chambers without a word.

"Your choice to stay away from him was the correct one," Snape added. "There's no need to feel guilt for that, at least."

"I'm sorry," Lupin said.

Snape frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I… I already knew that you became a much better man than I am but I admit that I never quite realised to what extent."

"Lupin,"

"No, it's true," Lupin said. "Not only have you not told Harry about our past, you're now taking him under your wing. That must be very hard for you."

Snape didn't know what to say to that so he decided to try one of Lupin's cookies.

It was good.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that as well," Lupin then said.

"About what?" Snape asked.

"Harry knows next to nothing about this parents," Lupin said. "His relatives didn't tell him anything, it seems and he hasn't met a lot of people that knew them. Well… not knowingly, at least."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"

"Well, I already told him that I was friends with James back in the day. And he knows that I knew his mother. But he wants to know so much more. I can tell him about his father but you're the one that knew his mother best."

"Lupin…"

"I could tell him about her as well," Lupin interrupted hastily. "No problem. But he already knows that his mother had a friend that was a Slytherin – a slip of the tongue – but he doesn't know that that was you. I know that it would mean the world to him if I could tell him. Even more so ifyoudid."

"My past is my personal business," Snape growled dangerously. "I would not have you parading such things to Potter. Especially not when considering your role in all of it."

Lupin looked quite embarrassed. For a long moment, the two of them sat in silence. Snape didn't want to talk anymore and Lupin seemed to be searching for the right words.

Then he sat up straight and looked at Snape. His eyes were determined and his expression was resolute.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for my behaviour back in the day. Ganging up on you, four to one was absolutely horrible of us. I can't speak for the others but on my part, it was me shamelessly trying to fit into a group. Thinking back on that now, it was especially cruel of me to participate in mistreating you when you shared so many traits with me. Without the marauders, I might have been in your shoes. I was a prick. And I'm a prick now for not apologising earlier. I was scared for your reaction but that's no excuse."

He ran a shaky hand through his uneven strands of hair. "I would never speak ill of you today," he said. "Even if you made your own mistakes back in the day, those aren't mine to discuss, nor would I ever mention them to Harry. The only thing I have told him so far is that you are a better man than I am."

Snape snorted. "Don't patronise me."

"I mean it," Lupin said earnestly. "You could have easily made Harry hate me. His own father, even. But you never did."

"Oh Lupin," Severus said darkly. "Surely, you don't really believe that I wouldn't have if I could without revealing the embarrassing things I've had to undergo. Greatness was not involved here. Merely self-preservation and the desire to stop Potter junior from becoming his father."

Lupin smiled thinly. "I don't know why you find it necessary to always portray yourself as a bad person," he said. "Even when you're not. Iknowyou're not because I have seen what you do, even when no one's looking."

"Don't flatter yourself," Snape snapped.

Lupin sighed. "Very well, Severus," he said. "Just know that I was being genuine before though I doubt you'll believe me. I've… learned a lot of harsh lessons since our school days."

"I realise that," Snape acknowledged. "And I believe your words to have been sincere."

Lupin smiled, understanding swiftly that forgiveness was a bit harder to come by than that. "So, do you think that you could talk to Harry?" he asked. "About Lily."

Snape's heart clenched. Merlin, he only very rarely heard her name spoken. It hurt him deeply every time. Lupin kindly ignored his obvious discomfort.

"He's not a happy person right now," Lupin said. "I hope I'm not out of bounds for saying this but he kind of reminds me of you back in the day."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "He's a carbon copy of his father," he said, though the argument was a weak one.

Lupin smiled knowingly. "He is," he agreed. "But his heart is that of his mother."

"Yes," Snape said. "I know."

They sat in amicable silence for a while, thinking back about their pasts and the people they lost. As much as Snape hated to admit it, Potter was indeed much more like his mother than he was his father. And he wasn't just talking about his eyes, either.

But more than that, he was his own person. The treatment he endured because of his relatives made him into someone that wasn't like either parent. Though the façade he erected to hide his pain certainly resembled his father in an uncanny way. Or was that simply what Snape had always wanted to see? Because if he hadn't… he was merely bullying a child.

Oh, Lily.

He buried his face in his hands. He still missed his best friend so much. This accumulation of disastrous events made him come face to face with a reality he had long since tried to avoid. Potter being resorted into Slytherin; Black escaping from Azkaban; Lupin becoming his colleague and now this dangerous heart to heart.

"Severus?"

Blast it. Why did his own façade have to crumble right then and there. Why did the wolf linger so long? Why couldn't he just return to his own chambers already?

Snape removed his hands in as casual a manner as he managed. "Why are you still here?" he asked. "You've said your piece."

Lupin sighed and took in his old enemy serenely. "I'll go," he said. "Just think about what I said, alright? In regards to Harry. He could really use some good things coming his way right now. So do you, I think."

"I'm quite alright," Snape replied.

Lupin smiled. "Right," he said. "I did hear that you're able to conjure a most beautiful patronus. I wonder what wonderful memory you have stored away to do so." He got up and patted his upper legs to get rid of imaginary lint. "Perhaps one day I'll have my own to do the same."

"Good evening, Lupin," Snape said.

"And to you, Severus," Lupin replied cordially. "Should you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."

Snape waved him away and felt relief when the door finally closed behind the wolf. He would never share that memory with Lupin. It would always be his and his alone.

As Harry entered the Transfiguration classroom, he looked around to find Hermione. When he did, he noticed that she looked decidedly angry. Not at him. Just in general.

Well, here went nothing.

"Hi, Hermione," he said when he had approached her. "Do you think we could work together today?"

When Hermione looked at him, the despair and self-loathing in her eyes made him swallow thickly. "Oh, hi Harry."

"Hermione?" he said, taken aback. "What's wrong?"

She sighed deeply. "I just… I can't talk about it now. Could we talk later? In private?"

A very tiny part of Harry wanted to throw her earlier words back in her face. Tell her that she could go ahead and hurt as much as he had. But that side died out so quickly that it almost seemed as if it had never been there. He put his hand on hers and smiled encouragingly. "Of course," he said.

At least she seemed to have slept better. Her hair wasn't greasy and unkempt anymore either nor was her attention directed at a book the entire time anymore. Since no one was sitting next to her, Harry sat in the open spot, not even glancing at the Slytherins as he did so. He didn't owe any of them anything.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes at most when McGonagall came through the door, happy as a clam. She waved her wand to close the drapes, darkening the room in the progress.

"Welcome!" she called out. "I hope you're all well-rested and ready to try some more meditation. Might I remind you that the magic and process to become an Animagus is probably the most difficult of the transfiguration branch of magic. And – as you know – transfiguration in and of itself is one of the most difficult branches in general. I say all of this to have you understand that it's okay to not make much progress, if any. I'll remind you that the results of these classes will not count towards your final grade. Your efforts, though, do. Now, all rise, please."

As soon as everyone was on their feet, she waved her wand and transfigured the desks and chairs into lounge chairs, pillows, thick matrasses and bean bags. Literally anything you could want to feel comfortable was available.

"Please choose a comfortable position to start your meditation," McGonagall said. "Much like last time. I trust that many of you have done your research concerning the animals that peaked your interest. This might help you transcend to the next level. And if not, at least you will have had a calming hour to rest. Now, get started!"

"Would you like to sit with me?" Harry asked Hermione. "I would like to feel someone I trust close to me while I have my eyes closed, you know."

Hermione managed a small smile. "Okay," she said. "As long as I can have a beanbag."

They both sat down with their backs against the walls. Most students did so. Some of them lay flat on the comfy matrasses and Harry wondered how they managed to not fall asleep. On the other hand, they might have already given up on becoming animagi and were now using this hour to catch up on some sleep. McGonagall didn't seem to mind, as long as everyone was quiet.

As McGonagall had said, Harry had indeed done his research concerning a vast array of birds. It was inconceivable how many there were. He could already scratch the flightless birds, though. He didn't really see himself as a penguin or an ostrich.

He closed his eyes and immediately became aware of Hermione's breathing next to him. She seemed to purposefully be breathing in and out deeply. Harry just tried to breath normally. Alright.

He imagined himself soaring through the air. A whitish underbelly with across a dark brown band. When he screeched, the sound was hoarse and raspy. His wings were barely moving at all. As he flew, he soared and rarely flapped his wings. Then he spotted his prey far beneath him. A small bird that didn't fly nearly as elegantly as Harry did. His eyes locked in on his prey, he tucked in his wings and he dove.

The speeds with which he dove down were dizzying. He went faster than most cars would ever go. At the last moment, he stretched out his claws and snatched the little bird out of the sky, snapping its neck before it even realised it was being hunted.

As Harry explored the patterns of this bird; imagined its habitat; delighted in its flight pattern and rejoiced in catching his prey, he felt something. It was a small tingling of sorts. A tingling that felt cold to the touch. Almost as if he had fallen into an ice cold lake and gotten out just in time. Though in this case, the prickling sensation wasn't painful.

It seemed to be resonating with a force deep inside of Harry. He could almost imagine strands travelling from every nerve; bone and muscle - from every fiber of his being – to his core. To his innermost self that made Harry, well, Harry.

In his mind's eye, it emanated a light.Itbeing… his core, he thought. Maybe those strands as well? The light was red. But not the red one would associate with anger or hatred. Not the painfully harsh red of a stoplight. The red one would see in a sunset. The last light you saw before It became night. The red that would sometimes tinge the clouds on a rare summery night. Harry couldn't say why that was the colour he thought of. But he was absolutely certain that it was correct.

He heard some commotion around him though it seemed very far away. As if he was underwater and could hear people on land having a conversation while he was at the bottom. That's why he couldn't understand what they were saying either. The words were distorted. Maybe he could make out 'Let him be.'

The sounds would disappear again and leave Harry in quiet reverie. It was how it was meant to be. He didn't want to let go of this strange sensation for it was a comfort. One that he had never felt before. For the first time in his life he felt as if he could be who he really was. He felt accepted. He felt… whole.

And then he could hear the bell signalling the end of class. Clear as day. Well, darn it. He opened his eyes to find literally everyone in class staring at him. Including McGonagall.

"Er… the bell has rung," Harry said stupidly. The happy expression on McGonagall's face felt unnerving. No one else reacted.

Hermione, who was still sitting next to him, touched his shoulder. "Harry," she said. "Look at your hands."

Harry did and he almost fell over when he saw that his arms were adorned with feathers. Dark brown feathers. They seemed to have grown from his hands all the way up to his shoulders. If it wasn't for his own appendages sitting underneath, it would have looked as if he had grown wings.

"Well done, Mr Potter!" McGonagall said. It was clear that she was trying to control her voice but she was far too elated to do so. "What a marvellous leap you have taken. Look at those beautiful feathers!"

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling uneasy as McGonagall stroked them. "They'll go away though, right?"

"Oh, don't worry," McGonagall said. "In this stage, your transformation won't hold up for very long. They'll disappear in an hour at most. But goodness, you have shown some real potential here. I never though I'd say it but fifty points to Slytherin!"

Harry couldn't stop the smile that forced the corners of his mouth up. For the first time since he became a Slytherin, he actually felt accomplished again. When he looked around, he could see that no one else had managed any form of transformation yet. Not even Hermione who was looking at him with envy.

"Well done, well done," McGonagall said proudly. "Now, remember everyone. This is not an easy feat at all. But do not feel discouraged. It is equally likely that someone else's talent will blossom soon. That someone could even surpass mister Potter. It all depends on finding the animal that is right for you – which in and of itself is difficult enough when you think of how many there are – and correctly linking its abilities with your own. If your magic believes that you can be this animal, you will be. Class dismissed!"

"Er, Professor…" Harry said. "Not that I'm not happy about this and all but I have potions next and er…" he flapped his useless 'wings'. "I'm a bit worried my feathers could catch fire. Or what if one drops into the potion and it explodes or something?"

McGonagall chuckled. "Don't worry, Mr Potter. Mr Snape knows charms to prevent that sort of thing. He'll help you."

"He'll mock me first," Harry groaned.

"Well," McGonagall said. "If he does, all you'll have to do is remind him that he is not an Animagus andyoujust might become one." And then she added. "Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be proud. Especially after earning all those points."

Harry had to agree, Snape did like his points.

A/N: We reached the end again, guys. Please don't hesitate to leave a review! I read and cherish them all.