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Harry adjusted the mask on his face: he wished he hadn’t let George choose it, but he had never been to a masked ball, let alone a wizarding one, and he had no idea what he was supposed to wear.
“No one will recognise you,” he had said, which was definitely true, as Harry would never normally be seen dead in fluorescent pink and lime green. At least the mask covered his whole face, so hopefully he wouldn’t have to deal with the attention he usually got.
If he thought it had been bad before, it was nothing on what he got now that he had truly defeated Voldemort, and Harry was honestly getting sick of it. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was even getting false calls for things from people hoping that they would get a chance to meet Harry on the call, and he was sure Robards was regretting offering him the Auror position.
It was part of the reason he was looking forward to this ball, in a way. He still hated the thought of dancing, but at least he wasn’t going to risk getting mobbed like he had at the last Ministry party. It was possibly why Hermione had suggested this theme for this year; it was just the sort of thing she would do. He was looking forward to the time when he didn’t have to attend these stupid things, although he knew that wouldn’t be happening for a while. For now he would accept whatever relief he could get, especially if it meant he got to stand quietly in the corner like he was doing now.
George had chosen robes to match Harry’s mask, even dying his hair bright orange, and Harry was pretty sure everyone thought he was George himself. George, on the other hand, was wearing smart, dark red robes that matched beautifully with Angelina’s, and the pair were currently drawing a lot of attention performing intricate turns on the dance floor. Harry had initially asked Ginny if she wanted to do matching costumes as well, but when she heard that Harry had asked George for help to make his, she baulked.
“It will be more fun if we don’t know what each other looks like,” she had said. “That way, when we find each other, we will know we are meant to be.”
It was the first Ministry event that Ginny was able to attend after finishing her seventh year at Hogwarts, the first ball she would attend since the Yule Ball in her third year. She would want to make an effort for this, or so Hermione had told him, and Harry could understand that in a way, even if it was starting to put him on edge a bit. It didn't help that the surroundings were bringing up bad memories. The Malfoys had offered up their ballroom to use, wanting to get back in the Ministry’s good books. It brought back too many bad memories for Harry, despite the new, rich decor, and the other reminders didn’t help.
There were so many masks! He hadn’t been around this many masks since he had fought Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and it was starting to make Harry anxious. Realistically, he knew that it was safe here; he was surrounded by his friends and allies. Still, could he really be sure? There was a chance that a rogue Death Eater or a Voldemort sympathiser had gotten in and was waiting to use this chance to take him out. It didn’t help that Harry didn’t know where his friends were, and he was really starting to worry.
Then a soothing flowery scent that was so familiar to him wafted around Harry, and he felt himself calm.
“Ginny?”
He turned to look, only to see a man. He had shoulder-length black hair tied back with a black ribbon. His black formal robes were complete with a cloak, and he had a plain white mask covering the right side of his face. His black eyes glittered underneath it. He looked familiar, but Harry couldn’t quite place him.
“Can I help you?”
“Quite possibly, Mr Potter.”
There was a new raspiness to the voice, but only one person had ever spoken Harry’s name in that way. It couldn’t be though, Harry was sure he was dead. Had been sure anyway, but the man standing in front of him was making him question that fact.
“Snape? Are you real?”
“I assure you that news of my death has been greatly exaggerated. I do, however, enjoy the anonymity that it brings.”
“Why are you here then? And after all this time?”
“Because I wanted to say goodbye. There is much I want to say, need to say to you, but perhaps not here.”
Harry looked and saw that they were beginning to draw attention. It wasn’t surprising, given their entirely opposite costumes, and it would be even worse if people were to work out who they were.
“Where?”
“The dance floor,” Snape suggested. “If we try to head outside now, people will only follow us. We need to get lost on the dance floor first.”
Harry looked up at Snape. “I should warn you that I can’t really dance.”
“Don’t worry, just follow my lead.” Snape flashed Harry a small smile and Harry was so shocked at the sight that he didn’t even question things as Snape took his hand and led him to the dance floor.
Harry had never been on this side of things before, only ever learning the so-called boys’ side when McGonagall taught them during his fourth year. He felt a little awkward at first, but then Snape’s arm came round his back, and suddenly he felt safe. It was probably due to Harry feeling less exposed to the onlookers. He briefly wondered if Snape had woven a notice-me-not spell into it, although Harry realised it could just as easily be because the dark material was covering up his own garish robes, allowing them to blend in more easily. There was something more, though, something Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he didn’t get a chance to ponder it more as Snape suddenly began to move.
Harry was surprised, letting out a little gasp as he clung onto Snape a little tighter, his eyes naturally drifting down to try to see where he was stepping.
“Look at me,” Snape commanded, and Harry’s eyes instantly shot up to meet his. There was an emotion glittering in their dark depths, as if Snape were asking Harry to trust him. It almost made Harry laugh. There were few people out there that Harry trusted as much as Snape these days: it hadn’t always been the case, but Harry had learned from his mistakes since the end of the war.
Harry wasn’t sure if Snape had read his thoughts, but the man’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and the arm around Harry tightened. It should have felt uncomfortable, but Harry actually felt safer: Snape had never let him down, even if Harry had accused the man of such multiple times.
“Er, how did you survive?” Harry asked when Snape had cast a muffliato spell. Harry realised that all the other dancers seemed to give them a bit of space, wanting to move away from the buzzing.
“I had been carrying blood replenishing potions and antivenom around all year on the off chance that there would be an attack,” Snape explained. “I didn’t know if I would have to use it on myself or a student; I’m glad it wasn’t the latter.”
They slipped into silence for a bit as Snape led Harry around the room. They weren’t doing anything overly complicated like Fred and Angelina, but there were some turns, and Harry was surprised that he didn’t end up tripping over his own feet. It was as if he were caught up in the music, and he felt a smile forming on his face.
“I never realised that the girl part was so easy.”
“It’s not necessarily easier,” Snape pointed out. “You have always been good at following orders, though, at least when the orders come from someone you trust.”
Harry frowned. “What does that mean?”
Snape sighed. “It means, Harry, that you have lived, and died, for other people, including people who did nothing but scorn you. You should not live this second chance at life doing the same.”
“Why not? What is wrong with wanting to help people?”
“Nothing, so long as it doesn’t get in the way of your own wants and desires. Your parents wouldn’t want that.”
Harry froze and almost tripped over his own feet when Snape kept moving. “What right do you have to talk about my parents?” He might trust Snape after learning about everything he had done during the war, but his parents were still a touchy subject, especially with the whole prophecy thing.
“Not here,” Snape whispered, and he began to manoeuvre them to the edge of the room. Harry went along, curious, if anything, to see what Snape planned to say. There wasn’t much space for privacy in the Malfoys’ ballroom, but Snape knew his way around and pulled Harry to a partially obscured door that led to a cupboard filled with glasses and crockery. The space was cramped, forcing them to practically stand on each other’s toes, but at least Harry was sure they wouldn’t be disturbed, especially when Snape cast another muffliato and a notice-me-not spell on the door.
“Do you really think you have the right to talk about my parents?” Harry snapped. ”Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything that you did during the war, but there is way too much history with them to just ignore it.”
“I am aware, but I didn’t bring them up to deride them or you,” Snape explained. “Regardless of what has happened, I still promised that I would protect you, which is why I want to give you one bit of advice before I leave.”
That brought Harry up short. “What do you mean before you leave?”
Snape sighed. “There is nothing left for me in the Wizarding World except people who are happy that I died.”
“That’s not true!” Harry exclaimed. “I fought to clear your name and explain what you did.”
“And I am grateful for that, I truly am, but you must be aware that most of those people only accept that because they think I’m dead. It would be a very different situation if they know I am alive. That’s why it’s best if I just quietly walk away and start a new life somewhere else. Before I go, though, I wanted to tell you to remember to live for yourself; you of all people deserve that. I know what it’s like to feel like you need to live up to other people’s expectations. I spent my whole life desperately trying to fit in somewhere, doing things to please one person or another, and it only left me miserable and worse off. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. If being an Auror is what you truly want to do, then do it, but make sure that that is the reason, and not because that is what everyone expects you to do.”
Harry paused. There was something about what Snape had said that niggled him. He had thought being an Auror was kind of cool when Ron spoke about it, and, as the only real wizarding career that he had heard about, he chose it when talking to McGonagall. When Umbridge had told him he would never make it, it cemented that path in his mind, and everyone agreeing with the decision only encouraged him to stick with it. He had never even considered the idea that there were other possibilities.
“Was that all you wanted to say?”
“No, I also wanted to apologise to you. I have not treated you fairly over the years. I was so struck by your resemblance to your father when you arrived that it clouded my judgement, causing me to cling to my bitterness and regret instead of remembering that you were your own person with your own personality. I could try to make excuses for my behaviour but, at the end of the day, there are none. The one upside is that it worked in my favour at the end. Even when the Dark Lord returned, I could keep a close eye on you without arousing suspicion. Still, that doesn’t negate any pain caused in those early years, nor the increased danger you were in as you didn’t feel like you could turn to me.”
“It was my fault as well. I listened to rumours and let my hurt at losing two measly house points in that first lesson taint my opinion completely. From that point, I only saw wrong in what you did and ignored any good, even when I was specifically told that you had cast a counter-jinx in my first year.”
Snape shook his head. “You were a child, Harry, a teenager in fact, so you were bound to be ruled by emotions. I should have been the adult in that situation.”
“Still, the lack of trust was on both our sides after my first year, so I won’t let you take all of the blame for that.”
Snape smiled, a genuine smile that seemed to light up his face, taking years off him. His eyes shone with warmth, even in the dark of the cupboard, and Harry was suddenly very aware of how close they were. It made him feel awkward, especially as the silence went on, and he felt the need to fill it.
“So, where do you plan to go?”
Snape shrugged. “There is a whole wide world out there, Harry, and, with the exception of Hogwarts, I have never even left England before.”
Harry smiled. “Me neither. Perhaps I should join you?”
He meant it as a joke but the more Harry thought about it, the more travel seemed like a good idea. He could always rejoin the Aurors at a later date. He wondered if his thoughts had shown on his face as Snape gave him an assessing look, always able to see so well in the dark.
“Perhaps you can. I would certainly not dislike your company as much as I might have in the past.”
A frisson of electricity passed between them as their eyes met, like a spark of something that had always existed but was suddenly taking on a new form. Snape had always been able to rile him up with just a look or a few words in the past, and this felt similar but different somehow, less angry but just as hot.
Harry bit his lip, and he thought he saw Snape’s eyes dart to watch the motion. “So, how did you know it was me under all of this?”
“I have been watching you closely for the last eight years, Harry. I would be able to find you anywhere.”
It was on the tip of Harry’s tongue to argue that it had only been seven, six, considering he had been on the run during his seventh. Then he remembered that Snape had known exactly where he was in the forest, and he wondered if the man had been watching him that year as well. For some reason, that sent a shudder through his body, and not from disgust.
“So, if I were to say that I would travel to Italy next month, you think you could find me?”
“I think I can accept that challenge,” Snape smirked, and Harry felt his pulse start to speed up for some reason.
He paused, his eyes drifting to Harry’s lips again, and for a second, Harry thought they might kiss. Then Snape blinked, and the moment went, the man slipping away a second later. Harry waited for a bit, wanting to give Snape a chance to get away. They would meet again, in a month or so, in Italy: Harry was somehow sure of that.
He left the cupboard and had barely made it three steps when Hermione’s voice stopped him.
“There you are, Harry! We’ve been looking all over for you since George told us what you’re wearing. You need to come with us. Ginny is making out with some guy in a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform.”
Harry just shrugged. “I guess we weren’t meant to be then.”
For some reason, he wasn’t the least bit upset about that. It would definitely make leaving for Italy easier. Now all he had to do was find Robards to hand in his notice and let his friends know. They would miss him, but not that much and who knew, maybe he would find a good honeymoon spot for them while he was gone.