Title: Sentimentality

Pairing: Harry/Snape

A/N: Ah! Thank the lord a little Harry/Snape finally popped out of me. To be quite honest this pairing is my passion! (Not that I think it'll ever happen in the world of J.K. Rowling Harry Potter) Hopefully this one catches a few people's eyes, for I think it could be one of my best.

Then again, I'm a bit concededg

Cheers!

Teagan

Harry looked down at his hands carefully. Tan and scar ridden much like the rest of him. He wondered how many new scars had formed since the last time he saw himself in a mirror. He wondered how many were yet to be formed.

He lifted a hand to his cheek and caressed the jagged line, though it remained thin; it was still quite visible. He still wondered sometimes why he never got it fully healed.

"Harry?" a voice asked. The wizard turned and found himself staring at a familiar lanky red head.

"Hey Ron." Harry said forcing out the smallest of smiles.

"Are you coming down stairs? People are waiting. They keep asking where the great Harry Potter is."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "I doubt that."

Ron smiled and sat down on a chair near the dark haired wizard. "Come off it, the entire Wizarding is falling in love with you all over again." Ron paused for a moment, but Harry said nothing. As though he knew Ron had more to add. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?" Ron asked.

Harry looked away from him for a moment, giving himself time to think it over. Was it what he wanted? To be adored and loved? At one time he would have said yes, but now it seemed an entirely different situation.

"Isn't it what everyone wants?" Harry muttered.

"Well, I can name a few good times I was jealous of you Harry… I mean from a distance, you had everything mate."

Harry snorted. "The key word is from a distance, Ron."

Ron sighed and let a pale hand run through his short fiery red locks.

The sun slowly crept beyond the hills that surrounded the fighting grounds of the Wizarding world. Nothing seemed to move as the smoke cleared the field of freshly fought mayhem. Harry opened his eyes and choked as the unknown gas collected with in his lungs.

"Hello?" Harry asked wiggling his body along the blood spattered grass in a worm like fashion. "Anyone?" Harry whispered stopping himself, as he listened for gasps of life across the field.

Not a sound was made as slowly Harry crawled to his knees. "Anyone!" Harry hissed louder this time. The dark hair boy sighed as the smoke completely cleared. The field was filled with bodies, and not one responded to Harry's calls.

"God damn it…" Harry muttered slowly standing up.

Somehow he had survived. Though no one else in the battle had, he did. It seemed the wizard was immortal, until his time when he and Voldermort would fight at last.

Harry made his way across the field. Head aching, feet throbbing, one large cut across his cheek slowly becoming numb. His walk back to Hogwarts seemed to take a life time. The fields smelled of death and seemed as though he was never going to escape it.

Beyond hills Harry walked until he saw what must have been the last of the men killed in the fight. When he squinted, he swore he saw one of them move. Harry continued to walk, and the closer he became, the more obvious it was that someone was indeed moving.

Someone else had survived.

Harry found himself walking briskly, then running to the unknown figure in the grass.

When he was mere feet away, the surprise and confusion that filled his body made him gasp. "Professor…?" Harry whispered to himself.

The older man hadn't heard him, but continued to move in attempt to stand.

"Professor! " Harry shouted.

The body fell to the ground in surprise groaning.

"Son of a bitch Potter…" Snape moaned, grabbing the grass beneath him.

Harry ran over to the weak man. "Were you hit?" He asked kneeling down next to the Potions master. Snape groaned once more, "No I scraped my knee on the side walk mother…"

Harry snorted and carefully put his hands beneath the mans arm pits and pulled him into a sitting position. Snape's face was covered in dirt and blood, most of it not his own.

"How bad is it?" Harry asked him.

Snape rolled his eyes, looking as stern as ever. "Shut up Potter…"

"Well are you going to die sitting there, or can you walk!" Harry demanded.

Snape snarled angrily and pushed Harry away forcing himself off of the ground. The man stood still for a moment glaring down at the younger wizard. Harry stood up as well.

Snape's chest rose heavily with each breath. Every time the potions master took a breath, it seemed to cause him pain. "Are you…" But before Harry could ask anymore Snape's knees began to buckle.

Harry reached out and caught the thin form before he could completely collapse.

"You cannot carry me out Potter..." Snape growled. Harry raised a brow. "What's stopping me?"

"The little dignity I have left..." Snape snapped between clench teeth.

Harry rolled his eyes and wrapped one hand around the man's waist and took one of Snape's arms and placed it around his own shoulders. "We'll be back to Hogwarts before you can say, 'Potter, I hate you.' "Harry said.

Snape groaned as they took their first step.

"Potter… I hate you." Snape muttered.

"Well?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed heavily and looked down at his hands once more. "I think I have something else I'd rather do at the moment."

Ron laughed to himself. "Harry, you're sitting by yourself, looking bored as shite; you're coming with me to see your friends and family before I pull all my hair out in frustration!" Ron said smiling.

Harry glared at him.

"Come on mate, just one drink and you can leave and sit here all by yourself again."

Harry sighed into his hands. "Fine one drink."

The moon light slipped into the infirmary making Snape look paler than Harry could have ever imagined. Every line on the older wizard's face stood out more than the first, and each time the he moved in his sleep, a pain filled groan would soon follow. Harry wondered why Snape and He were so much alike.

Alone.

Strange.

Awkward.

Filled with pain and never ending paths, that seemed to lead them back to the same conclusion, they would never live a normal life.

Harry watched Snape's eyes twitch and his hands follow after, as though one sense triggered another. As he watched the older man fall between dreaming and consciousness his own mind fell into a sort of understanding of the man he once hated.

Understanding of what he was going through and how it affected him in every which way. And with that being said, how strange it was to feel understanding for someone he had at one time hated with every fiber of his being.

"…Potter?" A cracked voice asked.

Harry turned and saw Snape sitting up against the backboard. When had that happened?

"You look better, Sir." Harry said avoiding the older man's eyes.

Snape snorted. "You needn't waste your time here…I'm sure your friends are looking for you."

Harry smiled and shook his head. "With all due respect sir, my friends are sleeping. It's three in the morning." Harry explained. Snape groaned and closed his eyes momentarily.

"Go to bed Potter, you saved my skin, congratulations, I have nothing to offer you in return." Snape growled.

"I'm not asking for anything. Its human instinct to help one another isn't it?" Harry asked. Snape starred at him for a moment before looking away.

Harry slowly began to stand up, when a cold long fingered hand stopped him.

"I'm not you're keeper do as you like, Potter."

Harry bit his lip and looked at Snape. Vulnerable, alone…Lost? Was that the right word?

Whatever the proper word would have been, either way it would not have been right. This wasn't Snape. Snape was strong and tough—but this man was nothing more then a dieing soul stuck in a dieing body.

Harry knew if anything that had to change.

"One drink Ron, one drink and then I'm leaving!" Harry hissed as Ron's hand gripped him harder, pulling him into the great hall, where wizards and witches of all sorts stood celebrating their truly free lives.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted waving her hand happily in the air. Harry blushed crimson and waved back. The room seem to spin as faces turned to see him enter.

"You look well." Harry heard Lupin say next to him. Harry turned to face the older man and was greeted to the face of Tonks as well. "Hey Harry!" The pink cheek witch said with a charming smile on her face.

"Hey." Harry muttered looking away from the starring faces.

Soon everyone would ask how he was, then Harry would lie, and slowly but surely slip back to his room; there he would do the same thing he did every night, wonder why he had survived.

"You'll catch you're death up here Potter." A voice said behind him. Harry turned and saw Snape, thicker than he had been, the weeks ago after the field battle. His cheeks seemed fuller and his eyes held that dangerous gleam that screamed everything Snape had always been to Harry.

"Maybe that's the point." Harry joked. Snape rolled his eyes and stepped closer to the younger wizard, until they were side by side. "I can't believe Poppy let you out…" Harry mumbled to himself. Snape snorted and smirked, "She didn't."

Harry turned around sharply. "Then you must still be sick! God damn it Snape, Do you think I'm going to be responsible for you're death?"

"You won't be Potter, for god sakes drop the melodramics if you please…"

Harry groaned and rubbed a scarred hand over his face. "They'll blame me and then I'll have another damn thing on my mind…"

"You're not Lucius Malfoy, Potter." Snape muttered.

Harry glared at the older wizard. "What in the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked. "You did not curse me, in other words." Snape said coldly. Harry's blood seemed to turn to ice at the words.

"You…" Harry paused.

"Potter?" Snape asked, looking as though he was enjoying the sick task.

"How can you enjoy this? Me trying to ask…if you're...if you…"

"Yes, Potter, I'm going to die, I highly doubt my health is on the top of your priority's list."

Harry glared angrily at the Potions master. "I don't want you dead! God damn it I don't wish that on anyone!"

Snape stepped forward and strangely enough Harry did not move. Snape's hand slowly raised and reached up to feel the wetness of the younger man's face.

"What are you…?" Harry began.

"You waste emotions on me." Snape muttered.

Harry's eyes began to blur and he understood. He was crying. For a man he hated.

"… an old saying potter, '...There's a thin line between love and hate…'..." Snape told him. Harry his bit his lip and tried to force himself to grow up and face that facts. He'd seen dead bodies before, he'd seen people knew well and adored die right before his eyes, but never in his life had he felt the burning, hopeless feeling he did now.

Not with Sirius.

Not with Fred.

Not with Hermione.

Harry opened his eyes and saw coal black starring into his own green. He couldn't contain it, because he couldn't stand it. So he pushed himself forward and caught Snape's lips in his own.

Harry had never been kissed properly. Lips on Lips, fire in you're stomach mixed with butterflies. And the fact that his soul ached for this man, and understood the same, made the kiss better than the few others he had experienced.

Snape did not protest Harry's doings, he simply let his hands do what seemed natural. And when He finally pushed the boy away, he wondered if Potter would end up something more then a right side bed warmer.

Harry found himself slipping away from the party, much as he had predicted. No one stopped him and no one made him. Harry simply left on free will. Because he knew staying would bring him no joy, and leaving would mean no confrontation from unwanted people.

So Harry walked the halls of Hogwarts until he found himself just outside of Snape's dungeons. He touched the dusted door and was surprised when it opened up perfectly, as though his hands were the key.

Harry's eyes slowly opened. His body ached with a pain more pleasant than anything joy he had ever felt. "It's not even eight yet Potter…" A voice somewhere near his stomach muttered.

Harry looked down and saw Snape's head laying in the crook of his hip, where in Snape's arms were thrown out to the side, in a non-caring gesture.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked. Snape groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows, and glared at the younger wizard. "I should be asking you that." Snape said.

Harry shrugged. "I'm fine."

Snape looked at him carefully before sitting up fully on his own side of the bed. Harry examined Snape's back, memorizing the way each bone stuck out, in a too skinny fashion.

'He's dieing Harry…' A voice said. 'It's only normal.'

Harry bit his lip and pulled his knees to his chest.

"Do you want a funeral?" Harry asked. Snape stood and pulled his night shirt over his head. "Do you want me to stick your head in a batch of hot candle wax?" Snape asked in return.

Harry snorted, "So that's a no?"

"I thought it was a game of twenty questions, I had no idea I was to take you seriously." Snape joked. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'd like to know."

Snape sighed and sat down next to Harry; after carefully walking around the bed.

"No, Potter I don't want a funeral."

"It's scary to think about …dieing in all; I know."

Snape sighed and walked to the bed room door.

"I don't want one Potter…" Snape paused; "Of fear that no one would attend."

The room was dust filled much like the door. Papers lay out on the desk as though Snape had never finished them. The room smelled of spices and tea, much like Snape always had, and the large leather furniture stood out among the gray dust, as fresh and new as the day they sat in them.

Harry plopped down onto the red leather couch, sighing happily as the material sunk beneath him. "I'll remind you not to jump onto my furniture Potter…" Snape muttered watching Harry sink lower into his seat.

"I didn't hurt anything relax…" Harry said smirking.

"If you care to pay for the new set Potter, then go right ahead, jump away." Snape turned his back and stirred a strange smelling potion he seemed to have been working on for the last few days.

"Oh come off it , it's not as though you'll need them much longer." Before Harry could stop the words from coming out of his mouth, they came and sat in the stale air as Snape stood perfectly still.

"You may leave Potter." Snape said curtly.

"Severus…I didn't mean that you know I didn't …it just…"

"Slipped Potter?"

Harry got up and walked over to the older man. "I'm always talking before I think things over…I'm sorry." Snape said nothing as he moved his hands back to the ladle and began stirring the potion once more.

Harry stood in silence, unsure of what to say, or if anything needed to be said at all.

"What are you making?" Harry asked taking a small step forward. Snape said nothing for a short a moment of time, and then muttered, " A potion."

Harry smirked and sat at one of the old looking stools that surrounded the potion table. "You don't say..." Harry said under his breath. "Well then what kind of Potion?"

"The kind Longbottom and you are completely incapable of concocting. "

Harry shook his head. "I'm better than Neville." Snape raised a brow. "I said nothing about being good…just better than he is."

Snape sighed, "Hand me that jar, Potter."

Harry reached over and grabbed the jar filled with a strange brown liquid and handed it to the Professor. "What is it you're making?" Harry asked again, in a voice not much louder than a whisper. Snape paused and looked up at Harry;

"Nothing that concerns you."

Snape's desk , still paper filled entranced Harry. He walked to it, and began to inspect the materials which sat upon it. An old Potions Book, upgraded papers, used quills and yellow parchment.

Harry's eyes were caught on small letter, with Ink drops and smudges; smudges from dropped water or tea, it couldn't be determined. Harry picked the envelope off the desk and turned it over and read the name inscribed across it.

Harry James Potter.

Snape sat at his desk writing away. It seemed these days, Harry either found him sleeping from lack of strength, making potions or writing.

Once in while Harry would try and read over Snape's shoulder, only to find that Snape seemed to be writing nothing at all. His hand moved, and quill rested between his fingers, but no words were to be seen. At first, Harry had sworn the man had gone insane.

"What…" Harry whispered leaning over the older wizard's shoulder. "Invisible Ink Potter...for nosy brats such as yourself." Snape explained. Harry snorted and nuzzled his nose into the back of Snape's neck. He smelled of tea…and something familiar he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"You've been making those mysterious potions again haven't you?" Harry asked. That was the smell, the smell of unnamable potions. Snape smiled but said nothing.

"Why don't you talk to me? I feel like I'm speaking to myself…" Harry whispered, his he leaned forward and the kissed the man's cheek. Snape froze and began to stand up. "Words are useless Potter." Snape muttered pushing his chair out , folding his invisible ink papers and carefully placing them into his breast pocket.

"You write a lot and you read just as much , words aren't useless."

Snape turned and faced the shorter wizard with an annoyed expression across his face. "Things that are known shouldn't be spoken of. You know what I say and what I do; reminding you is worthless and time wasting."

Harry said nothing Because for once, Snape seemed right.

Harry's hands began to sweat. He wanted to open the letter and see what words…things could have possibly been left for him. Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember what Snape looked like. He bit his lip and tried to remember the last things Snape had spoken to him.

His mind came back blank, because everything seemed blurred together, as though Harry's mind was still self consciously trying to forget it all.

Snape coughed violently and vomited into the toilet. Harry stood horrified as his chest clenched in pain. "What can I do damnit…" Harry whispered. Snape was dieing…there wasn't a cure for death.

"First drawer…" Snape panted resting his head against the toilet seat. "Potion…"The wizard groaned turning his head to empty what little substance remained in his stomach. Harry ran and opened the top drawer as Snape had instructed him. There were ten…twenty…maybe thirty bottles of identical potions.

The Potions Snape had been making and never telling Harry what they were for. Suddenly , everything seemed clearer.

'..Even put a stopper in death…'

Harry grasped one of the small potion containers in his hand and hurried back to the bathroom, where Snape stood now, over the sink, hands on either side of it, Head laying forward.

"Here.." Harry said gently handing Snape the bottle.

The potions master turned and grabbed the vial . He unplugged the top and before Harry knew what was happening the entire contents was gone. "What is that?"

Snape said nothing , he merely threw the vial into the trash can and stood looking down at him. Snape's eyes were red and darkly rimmed, with signs of exhaustion and sickness. He's not going to survive…Harry's mind remained him silently. Before he could stop himself, he threw his arms around the older wizard, grasping him tightly.

"Potter …what…"

"I know what you'll say…" Harry choked, forcing himself not to cry, "I know who you are…"

Snape's hands slowly reached around the younger man as well.

"…So don't speak.."

"Harry?" a voice said from the door way of Snape's office. Harry turned and saw Lupin standing, with his hands tucked comfortable in his trouser pockets.

"Hey." Harry muttered shoving the letter into his robes. "He never had chance to straighten this place up did he?" Lupin asked. Harry shrugged. "Doesn't look like it." Harry agreed.

"We didn't clean it after…" Harry stopped but Lupin understood. "Albus said that He might…haunt it…"

Lupin smiled and shook his head. "I'm surprised he said that."

Harry raised a brow. "Why?" Harry asked the werewolf. "People only come back and live as ghosts when they left something undone, not right. Severus tied his ends." Lupin explained. Harry shook his head. 'He didn't…not with me….' His brain thought helplessly.

"I can't do it.." Harry whispered leaning over to kiss Snape gently. The older man grunted, but wrapped a long fingered hand around the back of Harry's head. "What?" Snape hissed. "I can't do this …live with out you…" Harry said so quietly he wasn't even sure of Snape had heard him.

The Potions master chose not to reply for instead, wrapped his hand tighter around the boy's neck, and pulled him into a harsh kiss. Harry felt his lips smash against Snape's long before, he started to return the kiss.

Harry moaned and crawled up Snape's body, so they were perfectly a lined. Harry wondered why they hadn't just molded together then and there. Why Harry was to live, and go on with out the man he once hated.

Harry pressed his hands against Snape's Chest and began to pull himself away.

"There are some things I need to say…" Harry whispered. "Potter…" Snape said sternly. "Listen, please…just listen…" Harry hissed. Snape closed his eyes and threw an arm over his face.

Harry sat back on his knees. "I've discovered, whether you like it or not.." Harry paused and bit his lip before opening his mouth once more…" I love you."

Harry clenched his eyes closed and waited for Snape to respond. When he opened them again, Snape was sitting up, starring at Harry in an almost bored fashion.

"If you're done Mr. Potter…" Snape said coldly.

"God damnit I just told you I'm in fucking love you!" Harry snapped. Snape said nothing but let his hands speak for him instead. One wrapped carefully around Harry's waist and the other came to rest on his back side. Snape's mouth landed on Harry's collar bone, kissing away everything Harry was going to yell at him about.

Harry's eyes fell closed again but this time did not open.

Maybe they never did again.

"I was just checking on you Harry…if you'd like to be alone.." Lupin said at last. Harry said nothing. "I understand…" the werewolf told him carefully closing the door as he left.

Harry found himself soon after, sitting on the beloved leather couch, his hand searching the letter which had been shoved hastily into his robe. Harry found it and held it carefully in his lap.

For me from Snape. For me…From Severus Snape.

Harry's mind was awe struck. It had been nearly three months since Snape had died and this letter was just discovered. For lack of Patience Harry opened it and took the thin paper which had been placed inside.

On it was,

147 Altec landing

Snape had been bed ridden for nearly three weeks when Harry began to realize that he was coming the end of the curse's affects. Snape had only a matter of days left for him, and yet Harry couldn't help but think of ways to make him better.

"People need you Severus damnit! Whether you'll admit it or not." Harry hissed as he sat next to Snape in the Hogwarts infirmary.

Hogwarts was usually empty during the summer months, but because of Snape's ill ness and the ending of the Second War, the building was a bit more then deserted.

"Potter, shut it will you?" Snape groaned, hands shaking as he tried to sip tea. "You can take one of those Potions Severus…they always help you , they do! They keep you alive…just for a while longer, just until…"

"Until what Potter? Until you have another brake down? Until the sky falls?"

"WHY DID YOU STOP! WHAT MADE YOU WANT TO LIVE BEFORE BUT NOT NOW!" Harry shouted. Snape starred at Harry coldly. "I will not play god any longer. Sooner or later the potions will run out and then what? You'll watch me die all over again. People have been through more difficult ordeals than this Potter."

Harry said nothing for a moment.

"You told me, the first day I ever had you that you could put a stopper in death…why can't you now? Why can't you save yourself?" Harry asked.

Snape said nothing in return.

Harry snorted and stood up angrily knocking over his chair. He faced away from Snape, and wiped away pointless tears. "Don't waste your emotions on me Potter…your to young to have a dead lover on your conscious."

Harry walked the Hill in the direction which Dumbledore had showed him. Explaining the way to his desired location that might somehow lead him to the one place he had always been searching for.

The trees seemed Greener the farther Harry walked. Streams were heard in the distance and flowers perfumed the air. Though fall was knocking on the door, things seemed forever stuck in spring as Harry walked along.

No houses were spotted thus far, nor places which addresses could be marked.

As Harry walked, what looked like a very large Rock, sat in the middle of a pond. But the closer Harry got the more he realized that the rock was not a rock at all but a building. A house resting in the middle of a small body of water.

To the house was a bridge, which lead those who wished above the water to the house.

Harry stepped to the bridge and placed a foot on smiling. His journey seemed complete when he had fully crossed the bridge and saw visibly the number, 147 on the gray house.

Harry sat up with a gasp in bed and looked around wildly. The last thing he remembered was poppy telling him he should go and get some rest, but suddenly he was sleeping in what looked like Snape's bed. Harry's mind tracked back to Snape, looking the worst he had in ages and Harry panicked.

He had to make sure Severus was okay. That he was there when Severus …when he…

Harry found himself slipping on his shoes and then running up to the surface out of the dungeons , through the corridors and to the infirmary.

When Harry came closer he saw Lupin standing outside, with his hands in his pockets shaking his head. McGonagall was there as well, with tear stained cheeks. Mr. Weasley and Charlie looked at the ground, as the doors of the infirmary opened and Dumbledore emerged.

"He's passed." The headmaster said in a calm voice. Harry's sneaker squeaked against the floor, and Lupin looked up startled.

"Harry…" He whispered, looking lost for words.

Harry's heart began to pound harder than he could ever remember. "Snape...Severus…" Harry whispered stepping forward. Mr. Weasley stepped into front of the Infirmary doors, "Harry you should be resting." The red head told him.

Harry glared at him. "Let me through." He said sternly. McGonagall waved her hand in a way so that Mr. Weasley knew he should pass. Harry pushed the doors open and Saw Poppy and an unknown wizard, pulling sheet over Snape's body.

Severus's eyes were closed and his face peaceful.

'He's dead Harry…you'll never see him again…'

'You'll never hold him –kiss him-touch him—'

"Harry come now, out of here.." Dumbledore said firmly.

Harry pushed the older wizard away and ran like his life depended on it.

The house smelled of dust and tea much like Snape always had. Pictures of unknown faces hung on the walls. But strangely these pictures neither moved nor spoke. They seemed to be regular Muggle paintings.

Harry walked along the corridors of the gray house, but stopped when a well lighted study caught his eye. Harry turned and walked into the room and approached a desk where an old quill sat next to a journal and ink well.

Harry Picked up the book and turned the pages. Each one as empty as the next.

"….Invisible Ink Potter...for nosy brats such as yourself…"

The memory struck his mind with such intensity that he nearly fell over. He turned the pages over and over and tried to think of a way to make the ink become visible. Harry sat at the small desk and picked up the quill. He turned to a page and dipped the quill into the ink well. Carefully Harry wrote a small "H" at the bottom of the page.

Before his eyes, blurry black words began to form. And as though Harry just put his glasses on after a night of sleeping, the words focused and Harry saw the writing's of none other than Severus Snape.

It seemed the Ink worked in such a fashion, that only those who wrote in it were able to see the words.

Harry turned a page and read the top;

June 12th

Potter once again has found a new way to annoy me. He carefully 'jumps' onto my furniture and innocently smiles at me while I glare at him until he gets the idea. I think to my displeasure, Potter thinks he's something of assistant to me and my rooms. I suppose he's not quite understood the meaning of the words, 'Get out' just yet.

Harry smiled and laughed at the words Snape wrote. Though Snape would deny it, his words written, sounded the same as his words spoken.

Before Harry knew it, he had read nearly every page in Snape's small journal. Sometime through out the ordeal Harry decided that enough was enough. Snape had as good as invited him to live in his house, So Harry would make it so.

Harry sat at the highest tower in Hogwarts, the place where he and Snape had first kissed, first touched…

"Harry?"

Harry didn't turn because it was pointless. It was obvious that Lupin was behind him. What was the point in acting surprised.

"We all knew you'd awake and come up to the infirmary…I suppose we just didn't want you to be there when it happened." Lupin explained. Harry shook his head. "..You wouldn't want that now would you…me with Snape when he died. It's wrong for me to have what I want isn't it?"

Lupin sighed heavily, "Harry it has nothing to do with that…you loved Snape…"

"Why does that matter god damnit!"

Lupin scratched his head as he paused for a moment. "Never watch someone you love die Harry, it'll never leave you."

"How would you know? Huh Lupin? What does being a werewolf have to do with all of this , this time?"

Lupin smirked and shook his head again. "I deserved that I think…but nothing I suppose. But I watched Sirius die Harry…I will never forget that. I can remember everything about the situation, everything everyone was doing, every noise that passed my ears."

"Were you and Sirius…"

Lupin looked shocked, " Oh no! But Harry…he was my best friend…the only thing I felt I had left in the world." Lupin paused once more. " I guess you could say part of me went with him when he fell."

"I felt something for the first time in my life and once again it's too good to last."

"Everything has its reasoning Harry, You'll see, everything will come together."

Harry bit his lip and turned his head, carefully hiding the fact he was wiping his eyes." He couldn't even say he loved me damnit…I looked him in the eyes some many times...he had some many chances and he never took one of them."

"That doesn't stop the fact that he DID love you. He did Harry."

Harry sighed and pulled his knees to his chest; and rested his head between his knees. A small sob escaped his mouth before he could stop it.

"We've got your bedroom stuff, your quiditch stuff, your kitchen stuff…" Ron paused looking at the list of things Harry was moving into the house. "..And the stuff you couldn't quite put into certain category stuff."

Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead. "That's it then?" Ron asked looking at he boxes stacking up the door way. Harry looked around and sighed. "That's the lot."

"Oh ! And Remus is bringing some stuff your aunt and uncle said you left." Ron said all knowingly. "What in the bloody hell would I have left there?" Harry asked looking at Ron confused. "I dunno, but if you ask me, I think Tonks and Remus just threatened them so they bought you some new shite." Ron told him.

Harry shook his head and laughed happily.

Feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a long while.

"Well, if that's it…" Ron said stepping towards the open door. "That's it, I'll see you Ron." Harry said watching Ron walk slowly to where his broom lay in the grass. "I can visit you right? "

Harry laughed, "Yes Ron. Anytime."

Ron smiled and hopped on his broom. Harry watched until he was a mere speck in the sky. Harry liked his new house. It smelled good, the paintings weren't constantly watching him and telling him to be quiet or asking him what he was doing.

It was big, but not so big he felt lonely.

Most of all , Harry love it because it had once belonged to Snape, and that above all things, made Harry feel truly Home.

August 27th

Though Potter seems more worried and more concerned as each day passes about my health, I ignore it and try to do as I would before Malfoy had his way. I believe Potter is beginning to speak before thinking out what his words mean. For today he stupidly said he was in love with me. He must realize I would never say such things in return to him, but sadly his head is too thick for reason.

He nearly begged me with out saying so, for me to repeat the same.

In due time I think he'll realize, though I do not speak it out loud, it is indeed mutual despite my best efforts to prove myself it's not.

-Severus Snape—

fin