5.

Snape just couldn’t help it. For the second time during their travels, he jumped on the brakes and got out of the car as fast as he could. He was lucky: the first wave of retching arrived when he was already outside the car. He didn’t know the last time he had felt so sick, but for now, everything seemed to make horrible sense in his mind, everything that had happened since Potter had left the Order and the war behind.

His friends were dead or no longer in their right minds, apparently Potter’s girlfriend was dead too, and on top of it all, Dumbledore had betrayed him in the worst way possible. Now, he could understand the boy better than he had ever wanted. In reality, he had never wanted to understand Potter. He loathed – he had loathed – the boy and later the young man and wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

The second wave of vomit was even harder and he fell to his knees.

Strange. He had never thought he would react so badly to news like that. And lo! Apparently, the mere thought of betraying a wizarding vow made him ill – unlike Dumbledore, who even after the events had seemed the same. Like Pettigrew.

Snape sneered to himself. What a thought! Pettigrew and Dumbledore being alike! But Pettigrew’s denial about his owing to the Potter brat had never disturbed him. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was a different case. Dumbledore was almost everything in the world to him: a friend, a mentor, a father (one of the reasons of his hatred towards Potter had been precisely the jealousy, the fear that Potter would alienate Albus from him). He had always respected him because of his exceedingly strong morals, because of his efforts to save the wizarding world from the constantly menacing darkness, because of his warm-heartedness, care, attention. And now, the only comforting figure of his life disappeared into thin air, and he felt alone and utterly desolated.

He retched again and leaned forward, his head spinning. It was too much on top of the news of the last days. Death and betrayal… As if the whole world had joined together against him to rip from him everything he loved and cherished. Draco, Narcissa, Heather and now Albus… He couldn’t calm his churning stomach down.

A light touch in his forehead snapped him out of his thoughts, but he didn’t recoil from the contact, on the contrary, he leaned into the offered help until he felt that there was nothing left in him he could throw up. Then a slightly wet handkerchief touched his cheeks, temples, forehead and lips, cleaning the remainders of his previous actions, and a hand slipped under his helping him stand up.

He let Potter support him back to the car and slumped in the seat powerless. The young man didn’t say a word, for which Snape was absolutely grateful, just stood next to him wearing a worried expression while the Potions Master regained his composure somewhat.

‘Sorry,’ Snape muttered embarrassed.

‘No need.’ His companion shrugged. ‘I had a similar fit when I learned what had happened.’

Snape took a deep breath. ‘No. I meant sorry for,’ he lifted his head and looked at the brat making a tentative wave with his hand around, ‘for all this. And for my… my rudeness.’

Potter seemed so genuinely taken aback that he couldn’t utter a word, just gaped like a fish in the air. Snape reached a hand out tentatively and gently squeezed the younger man’s shoulder. Potter went rigid for a moment and frightened, he jumped back stumbling, slipping and finally fell on his backside. Snape felt horrified at this reaction so that he couldn’t move to help Potter up, just stared at the young wizard, who moaned painfully.

Finally, Potter looked up to him, shame and mild terror obvious in his eyes; he was apparently waiting for taunting remarks and cruel words – it wouldn’t have been the first occasion – but none came. Instead, after the primal shock, Snape did the previously unbelievable: crouched down next to him and helped him into a sitting position.

‘We should sit back to the car. We can’t lose any more time,’ he said flatly avoiding anything, which could refer to the young man’s unexpected reactions. ‘And I feel better now.’

‘Yeah,’ Potter muttered and seizing his shoulder, he struggled to his feet. He was still ashamed: his eyes examined the ground, his ears deep crimson.

There was a long silence after their mutual grand scene, just after another stop, Potter broke it, sounding tentative.

‘Snape, do you know anything about Hermione?’

Snape stiffened: this wasn’t really a topic they needed to discuss after… after all that had happened a few hours before.

‘You can call me Severus, I think,’ he said instead, stalling for time.

‘Severus?’ Now, Potter was really surprised. ‘But… why?’

He cracked a grin. ‘That’s my name, Potter.’

From the corner of his eyes he saw the young man rolling his eyes. ‘I have a first name too. Perhaps you should use it. It will help you to not confuse me with my father anymore.’

For a moment, the usual irritation-mixed-with-hatred flared in Snape’s chest, but it cooled down almost in an instant.

‘I’m perfectly aware of you not being your father, Po… Harry.’ To his utter surprise his voice didn’t sound sharp or sarcastic; just a normal tone, like anybody else’s.

‘Sorry.’ Potter sighed. ‘I almost managed to piss you off again.’

‘Almost,’ Severus agreed. ‘But not quite.’

A slight shadow of a smile appeared on the younger man’s face. ‘I’m impressed, Severus.’

‘Don’t be obnoxious. I still hate when you are a brat.’

‘Right.’ Potter nodded solemnly. ‘So, care you tell me about Hermione?’

Snape’s throat suddenly went tight, his mouth dry.

‘She’s still in hospital. There is…’ his voice cracked, but he gathered all his usual neutrality to go on, ‘there is no hope for her. But you know that.’

‘One can always hope.’ The answer was quiet.

‘It’s been five years, Harry,’ Snape’s voice was low and soothing. ‘If she didn’t get any better in the first two years…’

‘Yeah, I know.’ A short, bitter laugh sounded in the silence. ‘You hated her.’

Snape felt something hot and burning emerging in his chest, and he shuddered with the sudden attack of shame.

‘I was wrong,’ he croaked, his voice hoarse. ‘But I didn’t hate her. I hated you and felt that everything that caused you pain, was-’

‘Don’t go on.’ It was an obvious plea, so Snape closed his mouth and nodded. ‘She was a beautiful girl and the best friend I’ve ever had.’ He laughed. It was so false that Snape jerked his head to look at him. Tears soaked Potter’s face. ‘Do you know that I was in love with her? But I never told her, she loved Ron and I didn’t want to interfere. But she always had time for me – and it was she, who prevented me falling to the dark side in my sixth year, when I was resolute to revenge Sirius’s death. I was prepared to use every Unforgivable on LeStrange or on anybody I could reach… I was seething with fury and revenge, I couldn’t even think normally. She yelled at me, slapped me, cast the Immobilizing Charm on me…’ Another short, dry laugh, which caused almost physical pain in Severus’s ears. ‘And she went to Ron. She always turned to Ron. And later when I learned that Pettigrew killed Remus… That was the worst year of my life.’

‘With me in Potions and Occlumency,’ Snape added, chuckling darkly. ‘I can imagine your… mental state. But why are you telling me all this?’

Potter shrugged and buried his face in his hands.

‘Dunno. I guess I’ll die in two or three days and feels just… nice to talk about it before all this… war or whatever ends.’

‘Why do you think you won’t survive?’ Snape asked genuinely curious.

‘Oh, that’s simple. I don’t know what can I do against Voldemort, how can I defeat him once and for all, while he knew precisely that a simple Killing Curse will put an end to my life. And this time I don’t have my wand to protect myself by a Priori Incantatem. And I don’t have that stupid, romantic love-power Dumbledore thinks is the only weapon against him.’

‘You’re stupid, Potter.’ Snape exhaled irritated. ‘You still care deeply about Miss Granger. And even if you’ve lost a lot of people you loved, you still feel love towards them. You’re able to love, and this is what gives you the power you need.’

Potter raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘And care to tell me how can I use it against Voldemort?’

‘That’s what you have to figure out.’

‘Brilliant,’ Potter muttered darkly. ‘It’s lucky you never were my Defence teacher. I can imagine you instead of teaching defence techniques encouraging us to listen to our instincts. I don’t think I would have survived the last ten years.’

‘Look, Potter, can you be just civil without provoking me?’ Severus snapped.

‘Can’t. Your presence makes me edgy. And when I’m edgy, I attack.’

To his own surprise, Snape just rolled his eyes. ‘Perhaps you are a Potter after all.’

‘Perhaps you are a Snape.’

He shook his head amused. Potter’s cheekiness was quite entertaining when he didn’t feel hatred boiling in him constantly.

‘What did you do since I last saw you?’ Potter asked suddenly.

‘When did you last see me?’

‘Two years? I don’t remember precisely, but it was someday around the first attack on the Ministry.’

‘That long ago?’

‘Yes. After that I didn’t participate in the Order meetings. Dumbledore felt better a er… personal counselling.’ The pain and the sarcasm mixed in the young man’s voice. Severus winced.

‘I did the usual. Spied. Taught. Nothing extraordinary.’

‘Hmm. And how did Voldemort learn you were the spy?’

Snape yawned. ‘That’s a long story, Potter and I’m not sure I want to talk to you about it.’

‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to-’

‘You didn’t.’

Potter just sat in silence fidgeting, he seemed inundated with memories. The next time he spoke however, was only when they stopped for another pitiful night’s rest in an absolutely desolate petrol station where they were the only customers the entire time they were there.

‘You know I asked you about her, because before I left, I visited Hermione once again. To… to say good-bye to her. I think I felt I would never go back… It happened two days after… after the attack on my house and Ron’s death…’ His voice faltered as his thoughts slipped away. Severus waited patiently for the continuation. ‘Did you know that she’s in the same department where Neville’s parents are?’ Another false laugh. ‘She just lies curling into a foetal position on her bed all the time without showing any interest in her visitors. We… Ron and I visited her almost every week. Well, Ron visited her every day, you know, but I never visited her alone. He, I mean Ron didn’t want to give up on her. He fought. It was just… too hard to see them knowing that I never loved her enough to remain at her side in a situation like that, that I betrayed her by falling in love with another person…’

‘Potter, do you feel guilt because you fell in love with somebody else even if she never reciprocated your feelings?’ Snape’s eyes goggled in disbelief.

Potter choked out an indefinable sound between cry and laughter.

‘Yeah, I know I’m an idiot. You never forgot to remind me-’

‘Potter, get a grip!’

‘So, I visited her before leaving. Alone, of course, wearing black because of the funerals…’ Potter’s body was shaking so hard that Snape braced himself against a possible magical outburst. But after a while, Potter recollected his self-control. ‘When she saw… or felt that I was alone, she jumped off of the bed, on me, shrieking like a banshee and tearing at least three handfuls of my hair before the keepers managed to stop her. Do you know what she shrieked?’ Potter shook his head. ‘Killer! Traitor! At the top of her lungs. She shrieked the same things I saw in the Weasleys’ eyes at the funeral. They blamed me. Everybody blamed me. I don’t know why; perhaps they thought I should have killed Voldemort long before… Or… I don’t know. And Luna’s father… he blamed me openly. And Dumbledore was there, you know. Was there and smiled jovially like a grandfather, and I fled because I didn’t want to kill him…’

Snape sighed and turned to his ex-pupil. ‘I’m happy to hear that at least you don’t blame yourself.’

‘No,’ Harry shook his head resolutely. ‘No, for their deaths, no. But I still think, Hermione’s state and Remus deaths were my fault as well as Sirius’s-’

‘Nonsense!’ Snape cried out, frustrated. ‘It was a war, a war with casualties, a war that you were involved in against your will, a war, where you were only a child amongst adults who were just as impotent as you!’

‘I failed Occlumency, which killed Sirius-’

‘I failed you!’ Snape shouted. For a moment, Potter looked at him, his eyes wide in surprise, but soon, he shook it from him.

‘But Remus’s death was my fault! If I hadn’t run to Hogsmeade in a fit-’

‘Miss Granger’s case shocked you and we missed seeing what was going on inside you!’

‘Hermione was tortured, because she was my friend! They wanted to break me through her!’

Snape grabbed the young man’s shoulder and shook forcefully. This time, even if Severus was waiting for him to recoil, Harry just shrugged his hand off.

‘You can’t be blamed for being alive, Potter! Why can’t you just understand it?’

‘What’s this sudden change in opinion anyway, Snape? It was always you, who hated me just because I was a man’s son you had once hated, a man, who was long dead when we first met!’

Severus’s hand fell powerless. ‘I told you I had failed you.’ His voice was hoarse.

‘You didn’t fail me, Snape. You hated me.’

‘That hatred was the reason of failing.’

‘When did you realise I’m not my father, by the way?’ Potter changed topic.

‘When you behaved like a human being after seeing me cry.’

All of a sudden, Potter threw himself back in his seat, laughing harshly. ‘This is… mental,’ he choked out as soon as he could breathe again. ‘If I knew the only thing I have to do is to see you cry-’

‘Potter-’ Severus growled menacingly.

‘You are an idiot, Snape,’ the brat went on. ‘No normal man can hate somebody for so long without a single cause!’

‘Then imagine, Mr Potter,’ Snape’s voice dropped coldly, ‘that you teach in a school where I’m the Headmaster, who always favoured Draco Malfoy, you owe me your life and the spitting image of Mr Malfoy appears…’

‘I can’t imagine it, though I know what you’re talking about. But first, I don’t think I’ve ever hated Malfoy as much as you hated my father. But perhaps I think about your kid appearing… but no,’ he said after a long thinking. ‘I simply can’t imagine what I would feel. Perhaps, I’d hate the kid. Perhaps not. I don’t know.’

After a long silence, Snape realised that Harry had fallen asleep. Severus turned away from him, staring out the windscreen in thought. He had learned so many things about this young man next to him today… All those things he had gone through – yes, Severus had never before thought of them like he did now. Of course, he had never wanted to understand the boy before. But now… and under all those mentioned facts there was something… something more, Severus felt it. And slowly, without questioning Potter, just by listening to him, the whole story of the young man’s fleeing lay open before him. Harry, however, had missed mentioning one thing: his affair with Luna Lovegood. But he could easily guess it from his behaviour, his words. That nightmare yesterday, the mysterious ‘loveling’ – it had just sounded similar to Lovegood. And she had been killed on that very day, when the Dark Lord had learned the whereabouts of Potter’s residence – and a cold chill ran through his body. He had participated – even if unknowingly – in the murder of Ronald Weasley and Luna Lovegood. And yesterday, he had told Potter, he had never killed anybody…

If Heather had known – was another horrendous thought. Heather and Luna had been very good friends. And Heather had died around the same time her friend had. On the 23^rd of June. At least, the death certificate had said that. Had it been a coincidence? He didn’t know, but he reminded himself to ask Potter about the date of Miss Lovegood’s death. Just to be sure.

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