This is a bit of silliness I just felt like writing. The point of the story is actually the speech :P anyway, please proceed.


The facts lay on the table along with the evident of said facts. Albus Dumbledore knew Snape had made a vow to Narcissa Malfoy and he had asked Severus to kill him should the time ever come. The night he was killed, by Severus Snape, he was already dying. The potion he had digested was killing him, and he would've died no matter what.

For a year Harry, Ron and Hermione had travelled widely, destroying the Horcruxes. The last Horcrux had been destroyed at the Riddle Mansion. Voldemort's pet snake: Nagini. After that it was only Voldemort who was left. It had been a tough battle, but Harry had won, and the Triumphant Trio left for Hogwarts, where they had also gotten to know the facts and truths about Dumbledore's death.

Despite everything Harry, Ron and Hermione couldn't stand being near Snape. Everything had happened too fast, and none of them was ready to accept the news. Ron was, as usual, throwing a fit whenever the three of them were alone. Hermione were mostly quiet, but she too had her problems.

It wasn't until that Harry was sitting in his room at Hogwarts, preparing his speech, that he realised something. The Minister of Magic had asked the Chosen One to give a few words about the war at the upcoming Ministry Party.

"Is everything going well?" Hermione slipped down on the couch as Ron took a seat in the chair. Harry looked up at them, not really smiling, not really anything.

He took a deep breath and let it out with the word: "Yes…" before trailed off with a thoughtful gaze towards the paper on his desk.

The Ministry Party was moving closer and despite everyone fussing about it Harry did not feel excited, not did he feel worried. He felt, lifeless. There was still something in him, which couldn't muster living, and there had been so since Dumbledore had died.

So, it was with a wane smile that Harry took over the podium after all the awards had been given. People had been reluctant to clap when Severus Snape had been called, but Harry hoped to rectify this. He took a deep breath and then put on a Sonoros spell. The crowd fell silent and everyone looked expectantly at him.

He took a deep breath and moved forward into the light, "Many of you might not understand what I am talking about, but the important thing is the point," he started out, beginning to feel slightly anxious. His eyes skated over the crowd and settled on his two best friends, who were encouraging him.

"Also, many of you will be quite surprised at what I have to say. However, what I saw is the truth," he wondered briefly how Ron would look like when the point struck him. Harry cleared his throat before proceeding. "There are all kinds of heroes in our world, and there has always been, but the heroes I'm talking about are war-heroes," the crowd was silent and was listening intensely. It was almost unnerving.

"There are the heroes with great, proud white steeds and who wear shining armour. They are easily spotted. That's me," people started to clap, but Harry held up a hand, "and it's the Order of the Phoenix, those opposing Voldemort from the Ministry, everyone who said no to join Voldemort and just everyone who opposed in general," he threw a quick glance towards Severus Snape.

"Then we have the heroes who doesn't have white, proud steeds, and whose amour is rusty, old and not-so-shiny," Harry felt a flutter in his stomach, "they are the heroes who are difficult identifying," and here he spoke with a whisper, despite it was intensified by the Sonoros spell, "but it is these heroes in rusty, old and not-so-shining armour who are the absolute heroes of the world," he looked over at the table with the Order and could clearly see the surprise written in their faces. The penny had dropped. "I'd like to propose a toast for a hero who is steed-less and who wears rusty, old and not-so-shining armour," everyone stood, "To Severus Snape, the steed-less and unpolished hero," Harry grinned wickedly at Snape, who was standing dumbfounded and looking quite shocked.

"To Severus Snape, the steed-less and unpolished hero," everyone chorused. They weren't the best of friends, but they could tolerate each other and had come to an understanding. They shared something precious together, despite that it had been started on the wrong foundation. But not everything in life goes as expected, but it will all end good if you just try.


Ahh well, the silliness. I'd like to see that, one day, Harry looks beyond the hatred and sees what Snape really is: an unpolished hero.