Disclaimer: I do not, in any way (apart from emotional gratification :D), profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator, J.K. Rowling.

A.N.: About a half an year ago I became obsessed with writing a story like this. Actually, ever since I read the final book of the series, I felt a bit righteous about the Prince's tale (well, really, not just a bit). And as the curious little line in the fifth film goes: "Well, it may have escaped your notice, but life isn't fair. ", and as I find Severus Snape is one of the most complex and realistic characters in the story (not to mention my favorite by far), I thought it fitting and much needed, to disprove this statement "of his". At first I thought of "giving" him Lily, but somehow it didn't fit right in my head, so at last I decided to throw a Potter in his direction and see where it would lead. Well, to this day, I'm not too sure if he'd like or find any use for "the brat", but thus far I've enjoyed trying to twist it to this kind of an end.

So perhaps it will be a Slash story. It will certainly be a HPSS on the HP-part of the pair - I consider this enough of a warning.

I'm not too sure about the rating, as for the most part the more "outrageous" suggestions will be vaguely implied, but it may vary in future.

Prologue

"Dead memories"

(May 2nd 1998 Saturday)

Hermione and Ron left him by the ruin of the gargoyle once guarding the headmaster's study. They, of course, had a reason to go back down to the Great Hall and the crowd of survivors. He, however, didn't have one, nor the desire to be approached at all, at least for the day. So he turned in the opposite direction and proceeded to Gryffindor tower, already visualizing restful sleep, accompanied by sweet oblivion. It was a strange feeling, his feet were walking on their own for a second time this night, and besides, it was stranger still - the numb void he felt where his emotions of not so long ago had resided. 'It's over', Harry told himself over and over but the words were hollow much like the effect they had on him. Yes, it was over and he had survived as it was what he was famous for after all. But what cost had been paid just so he could utter the words? So many were dead, so many innocent, and yet still more painful – so many close to his heart. Starting from his mother and father, then Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, Collin, Moody and even Snape. They were all irrevocably gone just so he could stand alive here today. And even though he knew he was supposed to be grateful for their sacrifices, he felt angry instead, some unknowable ire burning brighter and swelling with every step he took. Was it worth it after all? Was it for the better this way? What would they say if he asked them? Would they perhaps state that yes, this way was for the best? They would surely pretend it wasn't Harry's fault for things to end up like this - some of them had already said it last night, in fact. But still…how could it not be Harry's fault? If it weren't for him and Voldemort, things would never go so wrong.

Harry suddenly halted realizing he'd reached the door to the boys dormitory without a single thought of where his feet were leading him. No surprise there and surely for the better, he mused stepping inside and immediately lying down on his old four-poster.

(June 3rd 1998 Wednesday)

A month passed and everything in the wizarding world seemed to have settled at last. The four past weeks were freakish ones in respect of capturing the last few Death Eaters who weren't at Hogwarts during the final battle and also flooded with dirty work at the ministry, including lifting enchantments from the workers and reestablishing government posts. At least after the passing of the hard month everything seemed to be normal again. And indeed everyone around Harry seemed to have found the right attitude to keep a smile on their faces. Hermione had found her parents and had lifted the spell on their memory for one thing. She and Ron were currently discussing an upcoming wedding which was supported, to Harry's vague surprise by the Weasley family. They seemed to take every chance at rejoicing and it was for the better, he supposed, when the alternative was to mourn ceaselessly over something irreversible… which was what Harry himself seemed to be doing of late. What he mourned exactly he wasn't really sure, he had too large a list to choose from, but still the heavy feeling in his chest didn't melt with rationalization.

He was currently residing in the Burrow while making vague plans for his future. Ron and Hermione for one would soon start studying for their final exams, he was sure. Ron because he still dreamed of becoming an auror and Hermione because… well because she was Hermione. Harry however had no inclination to even try prepare himself for any NEWT's and didn't really believe one would land on his head on the way. Something else altogether different but still in the same spirits was plaguing him since last month. It had become clear to him that Ginny expected that in their relationship the same temps as in that of Ron and Hermione would apply. And though Harry was fond of her to say the least, this distressed him greatly. Of course he knew the rational thing to do would be to get it over with his stupid frustrations and propose to her. He didn't find his frustrations stupid though, so he kept his distance when it came to Ginny pouting about this or that – all alluding to the stopper on the 'development of their dedication to each other'. Harry understood that of course this wouldn't make the problem go away, but persisted to stall in hopes that if he did it long enough he might just be able to better his spirits so it would all end up good.

When he came clear to Hermione about this, she was very supportive, saying she understood where he came from, but still there was this look in her eyes when she said it, that spoke volumes of undercurrent doubt.

His problems aside, Harry had no reason at all to complain, save for the summons from the Ministry, which were the least bit of a snag. He'd already given his testimony the day after the battle. The only thing left for them to do to him was give him a stupid order which no doubt was exactly what they intended.

(June 10th 1998, Wednesday)

A week later found Harry on a podium surrounded by too many reporters and receiving his order of Merlin first class. If only he could find the idea of a first page scowling Potter not so stupid one, he would have done just so. As it was he stood there trying to cast a disillusionment charm on himself without a wand and thinking privately what a waste of time this all was. And then just before his turn to receive the piece of metal a realization hit him straight in the chest in the form of a little speech.

"Order of Merlin First class is awarded post mortem to yet another member of the Order of the Phoenix. This one goes to our long-time link to the Death Eaters' inner circle, the man who sacrificed his name, dignity, reputation, and his life for the wizarding world. First Class is only fitting for the one who even in his dying hour disregarded his own needs in order to give the Chosen One his last bit of information – the key to the victory over the Dark Lord. To Severus Snape."

Harry only vaguely registered McGonagall walking to the front to receive the order which was no doubt to be placed in Hogwarts. What hit him instead was his own foolishness. It was not him who was important today. He was here to pay respect to everybody else in the wizarding world, regardless the outcome they came to survive. He was here to bow with respect to the memory of everybody who made this even possible.

"…Harry Potter.", Harry heard right before the usual applauds from the crowd and immediately got to his feet.

"Sonorus. Thank you, minister,", he said receiving the order and turning to face the people. "It is a sad day for me to be standing here, being one of the six people surviving to receive an Order of Merlin. Thus for me this piece of metal will stand not for my supposed tribute to the wizarding world, but for the many sacrifices made for the sake of our peaceful life. A memento of the courageous, selfless and eternally devoted people who made it possible for all of you to be standing here applauding the mediocre wizard who because of their help alone, managed to do something very much beyond his capabilities. Finite."

Harry didn't pay attention to the reaction of the crowd. Clutching the order he turned and walked right past all of them until he reached McGonagall.

"May I have a word, professor?"

"Why, yes, Potter, you certainly may.", she said surprising Harry who half expected a rejection. He gestured to the far end of the atrium and towards the exits.

"I noticed something strange, professor, and I hoped you can make it clear for me?"

"What is it, Potter?", she asked tersely fixing him with her gaze.

"Snape's portrait – it wasn't in the headmaster's office."

"Ah, but yes, of course. Severus Snape fled the castle during the battle, I believe you were there."

"So?"

"So his portrait isn't supposed to be there, Potter. The portraits in the study are of those headmasters and headmistresses who passed away while on the post."

"But this is stupid –"

"Nevertheless, Potter,", she interrupted her voice stern now. "it is the castle's magic that decides. And it has decided not to put the portrait there."

"But it should be there, don't you agree? After all he died trying –"

"Yes, Potter, I agree. This however is a matter of a higher authority."

And Harry understood what she meant. She was no Dumbledore as she didn't quite have his authority yet. He smiled to himself at this.

"Thank you, professor, for making this clear to me. How is the restoration going?"

"Well.", she conceded. "Well enough for the school to reopen come September."

"Good. I'm glad – Well, I'd better be going now,", he said glancing past her to see Ron and Hermione coming. "Have a nice day, professor."

"Harry, what happened?", asked Hermione, clearly worried. "This was very different from what we'd decided."

"Yeah, I know. It was the spur of the moment I guess. All I've rehearsed suddenly seemed ridiculous, you know."

"Yes, I can imagine, but still – 'a mediocre wizard'? You sounded like Snape for a bit there."

"I did?"

"Yeah, mate, you did. But it was all right, don't worry. Listen, we'd better get going before the reporters decide to come for an exclusive of something."

Harry frowned for a moment finding Rita Skeeter among the crowd.

"You know what, you go ahead. I want to talk to Kingsley about something."

"Now? Why can't you do it later or –"

"Come on, Ron, I'm sure Harry won't be long.", Hermione said as she pulled Ron by the elbow. Harry nodded and turned towards the elevator.

Once in the minister's office, he sat down and waited patiently for Shacklebolt to arrive. He sure didn't wait long.

"You don't like the press either, I suppose.", Harry greeted him.

"What –ah, it's you. No, I don't much care for interviews, especially ones stressing on other's words.", he replied stiffly.

"I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for. It was right on the spot if you ask me. Not what the public wanted to hear, mind."

"No, I suppose they would prefer to hear their imaginary hero dazzling them with puffed up words of greatness."

Kingsley smiled and sat down in his chair.

"Now, what's the reason of your being here, Harry?"

"Um, I need a favor actually."

"Hm?"

"I need to file an appeal, though I'm not really sure to whom I should address it."

"An appeal?", he asked incredulous.

"Yes, it's all a bit silly. You see the Hogwarts castle has a mind of its own when it comes to whose portrait would be hanged in the headmaster's office and I need a permission to bypass it's decision."

"You want a portrait taken off then?"

"Quite the opposite in fact. The castle decided it wouldn't hang Snape's portrait because he fled the grounds during the battle."

"Ah, I see, let me just –", Kingsley went shuffling through the drawers of his desk finally emerging with a paper. "Here, you file it and I'll pass it forward."

"Thank you.", Harry beamed. "I appreciate it."

"No trouble. I would have done it too, if I knew."

The boy nodded and immediately started scribbling. Once done he felt a tiny bit of the weight in his chest alleviating. Though it was really a useless thing to do it was good to know he could do something at least.

(March 19th 1999 Friday)

"I just need more time, Ginny!", Harry said raising his voice.

"More time?", she shrieked standing up from the couch. "It's been almost an year! How much more time do you need?"

"It's difficult for me too, you realize I hope!"

"Ugh, yeah, of course I realize it's difficult for you, but it shouldn't be! Why are you so fixed in the past, so determined to ignore me when I'm only trying to help!"

"I'm not ignoring you, Ginny!", he said exasperated. "I know you're trying to help, but pushing us into marriage right now isn't helping! All I ask of you is to wait. It's not like I'm denying you something of real importance, is it? We are together, we are happy this way, are we not? And we will get married, but in time, not right now!"

"We will then? That's what you say.", she seethed. "But you say different things while unconscious.", she muttered.

"What's that?"

"You heard me. You're calling a name. One name. Frequently."

"What?", his eyes widened at this new and completely unexpected information.

"Oh, don't go acting so innocent. Snape's name. You're calling Snape's name in your sleep almost every night. And if I wasn't sure the git's dead I'd have left you by now."

Harry's eyebrows lifted as much in surprise as in realization. Of course he should have expected something like this to happen sooner or later. The day when he'd seen the potions master's portrait being placed on the wall in Hogwarts had acted as an onset of his frequent nightmares featuring the man. And ever since that day he'd had them – not every night, mind, but – frequently enough to disturb him to the core. It was one of the main reasons in fact he still felt like there was a long way to go towards the desired peace of mind which would allow him to even think of proposing marriage to Ginny. But what she was obviously trying to imply was a bit too much for him to process.

"What kind of a sick person do you believe I am exactly?", he shouted outraged. "How can you – no, I – I don't know what to say to this, Ginny – really? Snape? You're jealous of Snape?"

Ginny looked rather flustered.

"What else could I possibly make of it, Harry? First you want to wait, then I hear his name every bloody night. And fess up, it's not like your performance of late deserves even mentioning."

Harry winced then frowned as if mad at himself for letting it get to him.

"So it's all about 'performance' with you then?", he hissed.

"You very well know it is not!", she answered affronted. "I'm just confused, I don't know what to say to you anymore and you have to see it my way. When we add all the things up – what can I say?"

"I think you said enough. When I add the things up do you know what I see? I see not the girl I fell in love with anymore but an annoying hell of a creature who spends her time in whining, whose only goal is to be a house-wife, and who doesn't even like having sex with me – not to mention she accuses me of being gay! And all this because I need more time to get over the deaths of all the people I ever considered family!"

"I – I'm –"

"No, you're not. And I suggest you go spend this evening with your family instead, Ginny. I need some time alone right now."

And that was the end of the argument obviously, for Ginny went quiet and after a moment gathered her things and left. Harry sighed, left alone in his apartment at last. He felt guilty for being secretly glad of the solitude, but he couldn't deny the dire need of it for the last couple of months. Of course it wasn't Ginny's fault at all, he realized. She was a normal girl and needed a normal life. It was only natural for her to want those things Harry simply couldn't extend to her. It was his fault, his dysfunction, his irritability, his depression. And he couldn't deny he was getting worse with time instead of improving. The nightmares too were getting worse and were starting to quite literary drain his will to get well. It was good actually that Ginny only mentioned his performance in bed. That, be it frustrating was due more to his lack of interest than a real problem. There were other things too. Like looking in mirrors, going out with friends, having fun with anybody really. When he thought about it he didn't feel up to anything of late. How could he when all he could think about were the people he'd wronged. And Snape of all people to visit him in his sleep was excruciating. The man once was quite the nightmare even during daytime while Harry's eyes were wide open and he could defend himself. But it was fair though, for him of all people to haunt him. After all he'd wronged Snape the most, hating him till the very end for all the wrong reasons. Funny how he used to blame him even for Sirius' death which now he recognized as a simple mechanism of coping with his grief.

All aside he couldn't manage to do more than try assuring himself all would be well in the end. Of course now things didn't seem bright in particular, but he was alive after all, so he could put the pieces together once more. He'd just got his newts results and they served to cheer him up a bit because even though they were all Acceptable, this still meant he could pursue any career of his choice which they covered. This and his reputation were enough to pave his way forward in any direction should he choose so. And he was starting to think again about becoming an auror. He was tired of fighting that was true enough, but thinking of his attitude and life he couldn't help but admit it was better for him to be at a dangerous post than for somebody with actual dreams and hopes. Even if he died it would be worth it and much better than sitting on his couch, drinking butterbeer. It could also be a decent distraction from the nagging surfacing thoughts that haunted him. Yes, an auror career sounded very tempting.

(April 3rd 1999 Saturday)

"I'm just saying. If you don't do something about it soon, it will be over for good.", Hermione all but nagged.

It was three weeks later in his very same rather gloomy living room and Harry was in the exact same position, sprawled on his couch drinking butterbeer while Hermione sat across the small table from him eyes intently fixed on his disheveled appearance.

"Easy for you to say. Let's pretend me and Ginny have made up. What then? The same damn problems that separated us still stand, Hermione. And I'm not up to anymore changes right now."

"I'm starting to suspect the problem is that you don't want to change, Harry. Do you seriously prefer to continue living like this?"

"Of course not.", he sighed. "It's just that… there's nothing to do about it. I don't think I can change even if I wanted to."

"I know I've said this before, but seriously, Harry, think about seeking help. There's sure to be someone at St. Mungo's, or if not – there are muggle specialists –"

"Oh, stop it at once!", he said raising his voice slightly. That was Hermione's solution for everything these days. "I'm all right, am I not? It's not like I'm insane or anything."

"No, but you're severely depressed!"

Harry snorted at this. He was aware what depression was in general and felt quite sure Hermione got it wrong for once.

"Severely depressed? Have you seen a depressed person, Hermione? Now Sirius was depressed, don't you think? More than me if you think about it, and he still wasn't what you would call a 'severely depressed person'. Spare me your dramatics, I'm coping well, I have a life I very much like. I'm not depressed but simply grieving. You should know it takes a different amount of time for every person and on top of that I didn't get to live through every bit of it when it was the proper moment. I might just be compensating now. And no, I don't think it's such a problem and it's really getting better these days – since…well since Ginny and I split up."

Hermione listened to him frowning and by the end of it seemed deep in thought.

"You're right. And it's not my business to say those –"

"Will you please get a grip, Hermione. Of course it is your business to say these things and more. You're concerned for me like any real friend would be. It's all right. But you should know that no matter how things end up I won't be the same person I was before the battle. I wish you all would stop expecting it from me."

"We just want to see you happy, Harry."

"Yeah…I know. Let's – just talk about something else."

"All right. You know how there's memorial on the anniversary this year?"

"Yes of course I know. Been invited and all."

"Yes, me an Ron will be going too. So what do you say we go have a picnic by the lake afterwards?"

Harry laughed to this.

"You realize there's going to be a feast of sorts in the great hall in the evening –"

"Yes, yes, I know about the feast all right. But there are going to be all sorts of people there and – well, I thought it would be good if we spent a little time together before that, just the three of us."

"I see where you're going with this but if you think an hour of reminiscing will help me in any way you're sorely mistaken."

"Okay so it wouldn't help you, but it may help us you know."

'The world does not revolve around you, Potter. No matter how desperately you crave it.', a familiar voice resounded in his head.

"Oh, if that's the case, sure, I'll come."

"Good.", smiled Hermione but Harry could tell there was something that still bothered her.

"Something's on your mind. Spill."

"Well,", she glanced at him sideways rather reproachfully. "It's really non of my business –"

"Oh come on, we've been through this already! Just say it, I can see it's bothering you."

"Well, Ginny mentioned something about – well about Snape."

"Ah, so she told you all about her little theory about me being actually gay that is the real problem between us, after all."

"Uh, if it makes any difference I didn't really believe it. But you saying his name in your sleep… I just thought there was something to it."

"Yeah, there's something to it, all right! I've simply been having nightmares about the man, Hermione. What Ginny implied was plain disgusting!"

"What kinds of nightmares? I mean, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to – but I can tell they had some kind of impact on you."

"No, they had no such thing.", Harry lied in hope Hermione would drop it. "I've just dreamt of him dying a couple of times, saying it's all my fault, you know. Nothing Snape wouldn't have said if he was alive."

"Your fault? But you know it isn't, right?"

Harry narrowed his eyes a fraction.

"Well as it wasn't my pet snake that bit him, I'd say it isn't. Though I can't deny it all really comes back to me. Snape wouldn't have died if Voldemort didn't want the Elder wand so desperately, and he wanted it because of me, didn't he?"

"Still that doesn't make it your –"

"Oh drop it already. It's not what's bothering me. It's more of the fact that there's nothing I can possibly do to set it right that's been nagging. I don't really care about fault anymore."

"Yes, I can see how that may be frustrating."

"It is what it is.", he said with finality standing up. "Now, I have to go and do some shopping before I'm left with nothing but butterbeer. You can come along if you like, but I really need to go."

Hermione too stood up to leave.

"Thanks, but I'll be going. I still haven't filed my application and I mean to do it before the deadline looms."

"Never took you for a procrastinator.", Harry laughed. "I've already signed up for the auror squad."

"You have? That's great, Harry!"

"Yeah, Kingsley would have hunted me down otherwise. But I thought Ron would have told you, we were together."

"No, he couldn't have. We haven't seen each other in a week. But that's great news!"

"Hermione? Why haven't you seen each other? I thought everything with you and Ron was going well."

"Yes, yes, more than well. We've both just been busy. Um, I – I'm so sorry to have come here, talking such silly things to you when it's obvious now you –"

Harry hugged her just to shut her up.

"I'm glad you visited."

(May 2nd 1999 Sunday)

A month later found Harry as one of the guests of honor at the memorial for the Battle of Hogwarts. The Great Hall, being the witness of the most determinative part of the battle, was the place where all the people, most of them survivors, gathered. There were as per usual several speeches which formed some kind of ceremony, some food and drinks, and mainly silence. During the proceedings Harry felt nostalgia envelop him. It was good to come back to what he's always considered home and still somehow it wasn't enough. It was cruel for both your happiest and saddest memories to merge together in one place such as this. Hogwarts was magic with all the marvelous things it produced, and yet it was death, cold and green. After the ceremony ended, Harry first thought to find Ron and Hermione and to see what would become of their picnic by the lake after all, but then, deciding there was still time to spare, he felt like talking with a certain portrait. So he looked around and when he spotted McGonagall, approached her.

"Hi, professor."

"Potter, it's good to see you."

"You too. Um, I was wondering if I could go up to your office for a moment."

"Whatever for?", she almost snapped.

"Well, as it is a day to remember those who left us, I was thinking it would be nice to talk to the portrait of Dumbledore for a bit. Just feels like a good way to spend a little time with."

"Uh, I suppose it's all right. The password is 'Casus catena'."

"Thanks, professor.", Harry smiled and turned to go.

Along the way he didn't see neither of his friends and that put him a little bit off as he rather wanted to make sure they knew where he was, but it couldn't deter him either way.

Harry was glad to see the full restoration of the castle on his way up. Especially the gargoyle that now unlike the last time seemed lively.

"Casus catena", he recited and it stood aside.

Harry wasn't sure what he'd expected but was inadvertently relieved to see nothing seemed to have changed much. The office of the headmaster was pretty much the way he remembered it, except of course for the portrait of the last headmaster – and as it was currently void of occupants, it wasn't really noticeable at all.

"Dear boy!", Dumbledore's voice boomed in the silence effectively startling him out of all thought he may have previously possessed. "It's good to see you! After all this time to think that you would remember and stop – but what is the matter, Harry? You seem unwell."

"I – I do? Well, today's the anniversary of the battle…"

"Ah, I see. Many good people died on this day, it is only natural to feel sad."

"I just wish –"

"Yes? You wish for what Harry?"

"I wish they knew how I felt… that I appreciate their sacrifice, I mean"

"I'm sure they'd know."

"Not all of them, no… I'm – sorry, sir, I'm not sure why I came here but I didn't mean to whine."

"Oh, but whine away my dear boy, whine away!", Dumbledore beamed and Harry frowned when a familiar feeling emerged inside him. this man when he was alive, always seemed to know exactly what was on Harry's mind. But portraits couldn't perform Legilimency, could they? Nah, no longer the case, just as it was with almost everything in his life nowadays.

"He, for one, would never know." He replied tilting his head towards the empty frame.

"Ah, unless you tell him, I guess not." Harry's eyes enlarged at the suggestion, provoking bright chuckles from the portrait. They died away quickly though as Harry looked away with a vacant expression.

"I've come to realize in the past year – that if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here now – I wouldn't have been here at all – I… Nobody believed – nobody knew till the very end – that he was on our side. That's just…"

"Nobody was supposed to know, Harry. Nobody was supposed to believe. He did what he had to and he did it well, I believe."

"So well that he's – But no, it wasn't his fault, you're right – he did it all well to the end. Was it Voldemort's? or was it yours?"

"Harry, you know there is no –"

"I don't want to blame anybody, sir. It's just that I keep thinking that I should have known, I should have realized…"

"It seems you have been thinking about that issue quite a bit, dear boy."

"Yeah… one's prone to spend some time and think about the dead man that keeps one awake for an year on end, sir."

"Ah, true, true, one's prone to do that… Well, Harry, it was good to see you!" beamed Dumbledore suddenly and when Harry looked at the portrait it seemed different – looked just like an oil painting…that happened to be moving. Dumbledore was long gone. He might as well have been talking to the wall. "Do me a favor and visit my tomb today, would you?"

Harry nodded absently and turned to leave when another voice stopped him momentarily.

"Well, well, if it isn't the great Harry Potter…"

He froze, at first visibly shocked, not to mention that his breath hitched and he felt ill outrageously quickly and overwhelmingly. He couldn't find reason within himself to turn around when everything inside him was screaming to run away. Harry hadn't foreseen it when he came here and he certainly wasn't bold enough to speak.

"Yes, well I should have known, now that I no longer pose a corporeal threat of sorts, you would simply – ignore my presence."

"Now, Severus –" Dumbledore started without real need to call for damage control as Harry turned around to face the other portrait.

"As it turns out, all you have to do is sacrifice your life for a brat, and you instantly gain annual visits."

"He's right.", Harry croaked before Dumbledore could possibly protest. "He's been right about me all along."

"Now Potter, isn't it a bit too late to turn into a crybaby?" the portrait sneered but it lacked…feeling. "Well, I guess when there are no more dark lords to throw himself at, our little hero must use all the means he possesses to gain the attention of the wizarding world. Do they pity you now, Potter? The boy who lost it all for the greater good… I can see the headlines –"

"Dead.", Muttered Harry while staring ahead.

"What did you say?"

"Did you – really hate me – that much?"

"No.", replied the portrait Snape calmly. "Much more than you can even begin to imagine, you foolish boy –" he was deterred by a quick and admonishing "Severus" by the portrait of Dumbledore, which didn't stop him from finishing the thought. "and before you ask – no, I didn't stop until the last drop of blood left my body."

"I see", whispered Harry and managed to leave before another word was said.

He knew he'd made a mistake as soon as he heard Snape's voice, but really, he wasn't expecting that the man had hated him enough in life for the feeling to sink down in the oil. He should have known better, nevertheless – it was Snape after all. Still, Harry couldn't find it in him to be angry about it. Some things never changed and that was the beauty of their particular relationship – Harry could always count on Snape's hatred. Did he hate him in turn? Once he thought he did – no, once he most certainly did. Now, however, he was simply sad about it. He was even ready to give anything, go to any lengths to erase the damn guilt of a shadow he'd gained for the last year – make it okay to restore the balance and be free to dislike Snape. One thing was certain – if this continued much longer, he'd go mad and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.

"Harry!", he heard Hermione's voice in the distance and winced. That was a collision Harry wasn't ready for. He'd planned, once he'd calmed down, to take a lone walk on the grounds and think through his messy thoughts of the day. As it was proven to him, the endeavor was quite impossible. "Where were you? I thought you'd left."

"Nah, I promised you lunch, didn't I?", he said, trying for cheerful and almost succeeding.

"Yes, well – Ronald can't make it.", she said seemingly preoccupied enough not to notice his foul mood seeping through the façade.

"What do you mean he can't make it? He was here only half an hour ago –"

"Oi, Harry!", and behold the wolf approaching. Something was definitely up with those two but he couldn't care less about that at the moment.

"Let's have lunch you guys, and then maybe someone will care enough to explain what I'm missing here."

It turned out this too was a huge mistake on his part. Moreover, it turned out Ron and Hermione have indeed been quarreling, to put it mildly, during the last couple of weeks and were on the verge of breaking up. As if this news wasn't enough…

"I saw you with that Jones woman there – really Ronald you could have at least waited for your mother to turn the other way!"

"I wasn't…! Agh, Harry, you were there – tell her I only said "hi"! It's not my fault she decided this was a good moment to complain about the security on the last match!"

"Don't you dare open your mouth, Harry! He wasn't even there when you two talked – he was… Where exactly were you, anyway?"

Hermione had never before seemed the jealous type to him. She didn't look like one even now – she seemed to enjoy irking her ex to be though. It didn't suit Harry at all.

"I was up to the headm-istress' office – to say hi to Dumbledore."

"Oh that's nice of you – you should have said, I'd have come with you. What did you talk about?"

"Nothing much."

"Did you get to see – you know – other portraits there?"

"Yep, unfortunately they saw me too."

"And?"

"And what? What do you expect to hear, Hermione? We forgave each other and lived happily ever after? He told me he hates me more than I can imagine, always has and as it turns out – his portrait always will. Is that enough information?"

"Oh-"

"Yeah, sorry mate, she's always like that. You don't know what it was like living with her –"

"That's enough! I'm sick of you guys – it's hard enough as it is! What happened with you two? No, forget it, it's not my business – I don't know what you've done to get Hermione so mad at you, but I don't sympathize – at all."

Maybe – just maybe – a senile portrait of a dead headmaster was a better choice for adviser than his best friends combined. Yet another change added to his perfect little life. And as he thought of portraits, his feet somehow took him to the tomb a certain dead man had recommended for a visit.

"I'm right, aren't I? I must have made a mistake on the way for things to end up like this.", he felt the least to say stupid kneeling there, talking to the marble, but perhaps he needed to hear his own thoughts for them to start to make sense in his head. "I feel like – my life's not my own anymore – how did this happen? 'Don't pity the dead, pity the living, and above all those who live without love'", he cited with a disgusted expression. "Did Snape ever find love? How could he, when he'd spent all his adult life loving a dead woman – taking care of her child, even though he hated it…", Why did he have to jump to thoughts of Snape immediately when it came to dead people? Yeah, right, like he wasn't thinking of Snape almost constantly during the past year… "It's just – too unfair… If he was alive I could do something – reciprocate for all those years he… Dead…for me to live. No, not even for me to live – without a proper reason – on a damn stupid whim of a psychopath! There was no reason… ah… I don't understand – how can his death move me more than my own problems after all this time?"

Harry gave up on verbalizing and rested his head on the tombstone. He felt tired, so very tired of feeling things without reason. The minutes passed slowly until something glittering through the grass grabbed his attention. He moved slightly to see better and frowned when he found his own face there. 'Erised? Yeah I'm officially off my rocker. Erised on the ground – lying beside Dumbledore's tomb. How stupid for a first hallucination.' He laughed aloud and moved closer. "Shouldn't I be seeing my heart's desire? I only see myself staring back…ah. Does that mean I'm the happiest man alive?"

"Do you wish to see your heart's desire?"

'Great – a voice to accompany the visual! I may like the madman's life – quite interesting so far.'

Nothing whatsoever happened next if one does not count a Harry Potter staring down at nothing in particular, yet totally fascinated.

"Tell me, what do I desire?", he asked after a fashion. It wasn't nice when your imagination depended on your prompt – it was a rather tiring experience.

"Wouldn't it be better if I showed you? Wouldn't it be even better if I took you there?"

"There? Where?" Wasn't asking your own imagination questions at least a little bit sad?

"Why to your heart's desire, silly. But you won't be able to come back."

"How do you even know what I desire when I myself have no idea?", he frowned, no longer liking the hallucination.

"Easy. If it isn't, I can't take you to it. If it is, then I will."

"Easy you say…", Harry had no idea what this meant. "Okay, take me – anywhere's better than here, anyways.", he muttered further.

Third mistake for one day – and as thirds go, it was a crucial one. The ground beneath his feet disappeared – not that he needed it, it seemed. In a flash, everything was gone, but he-himself and the mirror in front of him. In it's surface now stood Snape in full height.

"You were too late, but now you are in time. Touch only what you have to save and leave the rest alone, or it will leave you behind."

And with this very enlightening line of advice, everything vanished, including Harry himself.

Further notes:

*Ginny obviously is OOC, but it works for me as I don't need her at all for the plot in future.

**Harry may appear slightly OOC, but I prefer to see this version of the character as a more mature one, so to me it fits. If one believes the script of the final movie, he's already grown to be more sophisticated in conduct and speech, so I believe it's okay.

***English is not my first language, and furthermore, I don't have a beta for this story. Without a doubt, there are mistakes, and I sincerely apologize for them to those, who spare their precious time to read my silly cannon manipulations.