The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 35: Mister Snape's Adventure

The blue and black marble of the Direwolf's eyes turned towards him. Snape could swear that he felt a prodding prescence inside his mind just for second, before it slowly retreated, as if respecting his wants for his private thiughts to remain his. Slowly, the Direwolf let go of the mangled body of Quirinus Quirrel. The tall, magnificent creature let out a huff and shook his head. The mutt padded slowly and calmly went to the boy and girl embracing within the shield.

When Sebastian was within arm's reach, Harry turned. Severus heart jumped when the boy turned towards him, and the lavender shades of Harry's eyes saw him. The lavender shade slowly returned to its beautiful green hue, the shield started to let down, and Snape felt himself tear up.

No. He did not see Lily there. There was no James Potter either. There was only Harry, his brave, strong-willed ward whom he had hurted, whom he cherished, who has found his way into Severus' life by some play of Fate. There was only Harry, the boy whom he would brave the unknown depths of Hell and the gates of Heaven for, just so he could find him and tell him that Severus was proud of him, that he- Severus Snape- was willing to move mountains for him to be safe- everything else be damned. Severus wanted to be the one to assure Harry again, to see him live, to see him succeed. He wanted to tell Harry that he was so, so, so sorry for the words he did not mean, for the words he had said out of anger, out of his irrational, childish spite for James Potter. Here was Harry, the son of his heart.

Harry looked at him for a while, his young chin held high, as if daring Snape to try to refute him. After his Professor's first tear gushed out though, Harry couldn't understand; why was his Professor crying? Why is he even here? Why--

"Professor?" Hermione's small, trembling, but relieved voice cut through Harry's train of thoughts. He looked down at her, and she looked up to him.

"Bran, it's the Professor!" She exclaimed joyously and she stood up. Harry let himself be dragged by Hermione's eager grasp at his hands. Snape still stood there, the path of his lone but meaningful tear, though dried up, was still evident on his cheek. All the while as Hermione dragged him, Harry looked at the dried evidence of Snape's tear.

Then, Harry slowly, gently held up a hand and squeezed Hermione's palm. She stopped on her tracks, quizzically looked back at him. He gave her a wry smile.

"What, Bran? What is it?" She voiced her question out.

"You go," Harry was surprised at how sad he sounded, at how thick his voice was.

"Wha-" she started to ask again.

"Please, 'Mione. Go back to the dorm now. You are now all safe," when she started to open her mouth to ask for an explaination, Harry closed his eyes and let her hand go. He prodded her, "Please. Please, 'Mione."

Her earth coloured eyes was so, so full of questions. But she started to take a step towards Snape.

But then Snape started towalk towards them, too. Harry could not comprehend, but it was maybe due to the fact that Snape had long, long legs. In the span of three seconds, Harry found himself enclosed within the warm, lavender smell of his Professor. Harry could feel his whole body tremble, his mind still trying process everything that was happening.

In his confusion, his weak body state, all that had happened for the past few days made Harry want to cry all of a sudden. And he did. He sobbed, he wailed, he grieved, he hiccuped, he felt himself go limp against Snape's arms.

Snape held him tighter. He cradled Harry, whispering gently, lovingly in Harry's ear, soothing all his fears, his doubts, his anger away.

Perhaps, at one point, Harry must have fell asleep, for the next place he found himself in was a bed he knew so well, in a room he could memorise, in the place Harry had always felt at home in. He was on his bed, in his room at Spinner's End.