Melancholy summer

Melancholay Summer

The end of summer always made him a bit melancholy. Most would think he would be jumping for joy, being able to get back to school and away from his so called family. He was happy to get away, of course, but it just meant another summer that he hadn't had a holiday. Or a lazy day in the park. Or being a bit bored by choice. Not getting to hang out with friends, or get into a bit of mischief. All the things that a teenager should be doing over summer. Being locked away or out being a house-elf is not normal. For anyone. He swore to himself that if he survived this bloody war, he would never loose a summer again. Working would be his choice. Holiday, boredom, all HIS choice. Not the Dursleys. Not Dubledors, HIS!

20 Years Later....

The end of summer always made him a bit melancholy. He survived the war. He spent his summers on his terms. He had his holidays. He chose when to work, what chores e wanted to do. He had a house-elf. In the beginning it was to help get his home cleaned up and habitable. Grimmuald held to many memories and was to dark. He found a lovely, little cottage on the edge of the sea. Far from prying eyes. It had been part of his grandmother's dowry. The Blacks probably say it as a way to get rid of such a pittence of property. It was perfect for him, and his elf.

Right after the war ended, Harry buried friends. Attended trials. Defended those who needed it. Then withdrew. The public cried in outrage. He was supposed to marry his red-headed sweetheart and become an Auror. Just like his father. Harry couldn't believe how much more of his life they wanted. It wasn't enough that he sacrificed his childhood and his school years trying to bring down a killer everyone else was to afraid to deal with. He delt with hummiliation from peers, adults, the press. He had been called a lier, and fame monger from the same people who still demand that he use his fame to promote their cause. To continue to be a marytr to their beliefs and be whatever they wanted. When they wanted.

That is why Harry gave the wizarding world the two finger salute and left. Those who he trusted knew how to contact him. He should have been happy or at the least, content. For the most part he was. Content.

He had holidays all over the world. He particularly liked India, where his parseltongue was considered a gift. No matter where he went, he was still met with a sense of awe. Even the few relationships h tried to have, his partners couldn't forget who he was. They never saw just Harry. That had included Ginny. He had always felt that tiny bit of hero worship from her.

His journey was just to discover other places, it was also to help him discover himself. From the time he could remember, he was doing something for someone else. He never did a single thing for himself. Except one. He went back to the shack to try and save Snape. The man had spent the past seven years watching over him. He owed the man his life many times over.

What he found stopped him in his tracks. His dark angle was standing up as if he hadn't had his throat ripped out by a giant snake. Neither spoke. Snape looked as stunned to see Harry as Harry felt. Without concious decision, Harry threw himself on Snape, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and burying his face in the firm chest. He could hear his heart, beating strong. A sob escaped as he felt arms close just as tightly around him.
"How?"
Snape pulled back enough to run his hand down the young man's cheek and cup it gently, wipping his thumb across a tear streaked cheek. He smiled tenderly and walked out of the shack and that was the last Harry ever saw him.

Of course he tried to find him over the years. His friends thought him mad when he told them Snape was alive. Even without a body, they declared him the man dead. Harry made sure the wizarding world knew of his heroic deeds. Made sure that he was exonerated for all crimes, real or implied. He knew Severus was alive.

Over the years he researched ways he could have surrived. Light, dark, it didn't matter. He knew there was no "secret" twin. The family tapastry confirmed that theory. Snape may have been muggle, but Prince wasn't. He used his name to have the tapastry removed from the family vault long enough to confirm that here wasn't a second Snape child. The goblins were only willig to comprimise so far. It had taken him giving a vow and push for a goblin measure in the Wizgmont. It was worth it.