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Severus Snape always knew his death was inevitable.
Not even Albus Dumbledore could defy death forever, and he had lived through countless trials that could have very well killed him at a much younger age.
It's not as though Severus deserved to live forever, anyway. He had made many countless mistakes during his life, and even if he had spent a millennium atoning for them, it still wouldn't have been enough. He also understood, deep down, that he didn't want to live a long life. He didn't want to have to spend eons atoning for every single mistaken breath he had chosen to draw. He only wanted to do what was necessary before kicking the bucket. He wanted to quietly dissipate until nothing of him was left.
The Dark Lord had summoned Severus to the Shrieking Shack.
Severus went without any question. He felt fear, yes, but also peace as he was sure the end of his life was close. Once he arrived, he found the Dark Lord and that snake of his, Nagini.
Nagini was suspended in midair, twisting gracefully within an enchanted, protective space the Dark Lord had made for her. She was in a starry, transparent bubble that sphere that seems equal parts cage and tank. She wouldn't be freed from it unless necessary, and the Dark Lord surely wouldn't find it necessary when Harry Potter was running around the castle, trying to destroy his horcruxes.
The Dark Lord didn't even look up as he continued to toy with the wand that Severus had personally presented him with. He just rolled and twirled it around in his too-white hand while staring out the single unboarded window toward the castle. He sat in his chair, not even feeling the need to participate in the battle himself when Potter was sure to come find him. He just had to wait.
“My Lord,” Severus said as if he were reporting to the man who had secretly despised ever since he had murdered his dearest friend. “Their resistance is crumbling—”
“—and it is doing so without your help,” the Dark Lord said in his high, clear voice. “Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much of a difference now. We are almost there… almost.”
“Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please.” Severus stepped closer to the Dark Lord, a small and mutinous part of himself wondering if he could possibly defy Dumbledore’s orders and kill the Dark Lord himself.
The Dark Lord stood, gazing at Severus with those unnerving and unnatural red eyes, and admitted softly, “I have a problem, Severus.”
“My Lord?” Severus questioned.
The facsimile of a man raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor’s baton. “Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?”
Nagini coiled and uncoiled herself, hissing inside of her bubble of protection.
Severus stuttered, “My — my Lord? I do not understand. You — you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.”
“No,” the Dark Lord said, “I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand… no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.”
Severus could tell the Dark Lord was starting to get frustrated. He knew his end was near. It was always going to end with him dying to save Harry Potter.
Harry Potter, the boy who he used to despise for his relationship to both James Potter and his former childhood love, was the most important pawn on Dumbledore’s board. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, someone who would inevitably have to die if the world was ever going to be safe from the Dark Lord and his horrific followers.
Severus blinked once, focusing himself on the Dark Lord, who began to pace around the room.
“I have thought long and hard, Severus… Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?” The deranged wizard asked as his rage only seemed to mount more and more.
Severus remained calm as he lied, “No, my Lord.”
“I have called you, Severus,” the man who had long since shed his humanity said impatiently, “because I am concerned about what will happen when I finally meet the boy.”
Severus said placatingly, “My Lord, there can be no questions—”
“—but there is a question, Severus. There is.” The Dark Lord halted, and he stared at his supposed spy and right-hand man, still palming his wand. “Why did both the wands that I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?”
Severus didn't flinch at the accusation. “I cannot answer that, my Lord.”
“Can't you?” The Dark Lord asked calmly despite clearly being anything but calm on the inside.
Severus remained silent as his eyes drifted slowly from the Dark Lord to Nagini. He listened to the Dark Lord, and he knew by the outstanding leaps in logic that the former human made that he wasn't long for the world.
Neither of them were. Both were surely destined to die at the hands of the ones they despised above all else.
Severus made peace with that long ago.
The Dark Lord finally got to his point. “The Elder Wand cannot serve me, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the wand cannot truly be mine.”
As calmly as he could, Severus raised his wand to make it seem like he'd be fighting to protect himself. He had long since given up the fight, though. He was more than glad to finally let go.
“It cannot be any other way,” the Dark Lord said as he grasped the Elder Wand tightly. “I must master this wand and master Potter at last.” He then flicked his wand toward Severus, who didn't flinch in the slightest imagination of the word.
Severus expected a spell, not to be encased from the shoulders up in that protective bubble holding Nagini. He didn't think his throat would be torn out by that snake, but he knew he couldn't fight it too much. Pain and venom flooded his body, and he struggled against it instinctually. His knees became weak from the venom moving through his body with every beat of his heart. He collapsed to the floor, and Nagini released him. He tried to hold his neck, to keep himself from bleeding everywhere, to battle the death that would surely be painful.
“I regret it,” the Dark Lord said, though Severus had barely heard it. He turned and calmly left the Shrieking Shack behind with Nagini floating after him.
Severus closed his eyes tightly as he tried to fight against his instincts to live. He didn't want to live — hadn't wanted to live for a long while.
Harry Potter appeared with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley just behind him.
Severus opened his eyes to look at the three, and he scowled. “Fools,” he criticized before looking at Harry specifically as he allowed his memories to flood from himself willingly. “Take… it…” He demanded through the blood in his ripped trachea.
Granger conjured a flask, and she thrust it into Harry's hands with her own shaking ones.
Harry quickly lifted the silvery-blue substance into the flash with his wand. He continued doing so until the flask was filled to the brim.
Severus, having not enough blood left and far too much venom in his entire body, released a soft sigh. He rested his head down as he gazed into the green eyes of the boy who had been a pain in his ass for the past seven years.
Harry stared back, and he seemingly couldn't decide what to feel at the moment. He would probably settle on pity once he viewed the memories of Severus in Dumbledore's pensive.
Severus couldn't help but release one final huff of amusement and rattled out, “Good… luck…” He was more than happy to release his hold on the miserable world after that, and he allowed his gaze to unfocus and darken. His hand fell from his neck, and he was relieved to finally be free from the shackles of life. He was surely going to go into the cold embrace of death. Severus Tobias Snape was finally happy.
Of course, someone had to come along and ruin it for him.
Severus became aware of a low hum. He tried to open his eyes, but found he lacked the strength to. He could only lay there as he became more and more awake. The more awake he became, the more his mind began to suspect that he hadn't escaped the grasps of life. His body ached, and it hurt to breathe. He couldn't possibly be in the sweet oblivion known as death.
The low hum became louder. It sounded like a crowd of people was drawing closer and closer, taking all the while.
Irritation flew through the kind of Severus. Of course he couldn't have died after playing his part.
That meddling old man probably had someone on standby to keep him alive and miserable and—
“Miserable, hm?”
Severus's eyes opened abruptly. He immediately winced and closed them as the blinding light from the window tried to burn straight through his retinas and blind him forever. He waited a few moments before opening his eyes again. His gaze slowly drifted around, taking in the white ceiling and curtains, before it landed on none other than Harry Potter.
Harry was staring down at Severus, his brilliant green eyes so familiar, yet somehow different at the same time. The young man attempted a smile, but it didn't quite look right.
If Severus was a lesser man, he would have started crying. He wasn't, though. He spent years learning how to ignore his emotions and lock them away. He was a spy and a damn good one, and he never showed weakness that could get him killed. It was instinctual now to shove down his despair and continue breathing, even if he no longer had any reason to do so.
Harry chuckled dryly. “You're stubborn, I'll give you that much.”
Severus sneered just slightly.
Harry's grin became less forced, and mirth showed clearly in his green eyes. They looked like Lily’s, but they didn't show their emotions as clearly as Lily’s had. When had Harry stopped wearing his heart on his sleeve?
The young man answered aloud, “A year or so ago.”
Severus frowned deeply, wondering if Harry had finally managed to lose his mind.
Harry appeared quite offended. “I'm not mad. I’m using Legilimency.”
At that, Severus scowled deeply and tried in vain to block his surface-level thoughts. He couldn't focus his magic correctly, and he briefly contemplated asking what had happened to corrupt his magic so badly, but he figured nearly dying (or did he die and was somehow revived? He had no real idea) had a hand to play in that.
“I must say, using Legilimency and Occlumency are both significantly easier without Voldemort in my head,” Harry commented, and Severus winced slightly at the name that was Taboo to say. “Well, I realized everything became easier without Voldemort in the picture. Save for dealing with boring classes and drama, of course.”
Severus allowed his brow to furrow.
Harry’s eyes sparked with recognition. “Oh, yes. Hogwarts decided to allow students to redo the year you were headmaster for, should they wish it. Some of us decided to do that and get their education done properly.”
Severus tried to hum, but he quickly stopped and turned his head away from Harry's so that he could cough.
Harry waited patiently for Severus to turn his head back toward him before he held up a cool goblet of water. “Here. This will help.”
Severus eyed the goblet suspiciously before taking the offer and sipping on some water. He didn't realize how parched his throat was until he began, and he didn't want to stop, even after he finished the entire goblet.
Harry set the empty goblet down with a frown. “There's no sense in making yourself sick.”
Severus wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't. He knew his limitations, and drinking as much water as he wanted was beneficial to his survival (even if he really didn't want to survive).
Harry sighed heavily as he sat back in his seat. “You're still being stubborn. You didn't get this second chance, only to die drinking water of all things.”
Snape opened his mouth to tell the young man off, but paused as Harry shook his head.
“You haven't used your voice in a while. Best not start by yelling,” Harry suggested.
Severus tried to rasp out a single word, only to end up coughing once again.
Harry sighed before standing up. He grabbed a handkerchief and gently held it to Severus’s lips.
Severus, only after he managed to stop coughing, felt like cringing away from the Potter. He hadn't been shown that level of care since his mother was alive, and he certainly wasn't comfortable with it.
“It's either a complete stranger or me,” Harry said.
Severus blinked once, his mind demanding an explanation when his voice couldn't.
“You're in St. Mungo's,” Harry said aloud, “In the long-term care ward.”
Severus sneered for sure that time.
Harry had the audacity to roll his eyes (though when had he ever had the restraint to stop himself from acting so out of line?). “Oh, you're fine for now. You weren't waking up, and it took you forever to heal from that venom and the wounds to your neck. And I've always had restraint.”
Severus blinked once, slow and deliberate. He knew that Harry rarely, if ever, had the restraint to stop himself from egging his former Potions Professor on.
Harry sighed. “Look, I'm not here to argue with you. I just came to check on you during the break.”
Severus felt his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Oh, yeah. It's Easter break,” Harry said as if only just remembering.
At once, alarm filled the man. He couldn't believe that he had been unconscious for that long. Sure, Nagini was venomous and he came close to death, but that didn't excuse his weakness for so long.
“You're not weak for needing time to heal—”
Severus scoffed, only to cringe and try to swallow down some saliva from that pain that resided in his throat.
Harry poured some water from a pitcher into a goblet, and held the goblet to Severus's lips once again. “Here. It'll help.”
Begrudgingly, Severus decided to trust the young man. If he was being poisoned, it was probably nothing compared to the agony that Nagini’s venom could cause.
Harry made a bitter expression as he set the goblet back down on the side table. “I'm not going to poison you.”
Severus thought that Harry was a significantly better person than he was, even if he did act like his strutting excuse of a father more often times than not.
Harry winced. “While my father did strut, he wasn't exactly pathetic.”
Severus rolled his eyes.
“In any case, visiting hours are just about over, so I'll give you some time to adjust,” Harry said gently.
Severus sneered. He didn't need time to adjust to life again. He'd just fall into his usual routines and make it the best he knew how.
Harry gave a forced smile before standing up with a visible wince.
Severus frowned as the young man hesitated before shaking his head.
Harry left, and he closed the curtains behind him.
Severus felt relief and a bit of disappointment. He then decided to return to healing up, or at least healing to the point where he could leave that blasted hospital. He wanted to be healed enough to stand on his own two feet and continue with his pathetic excuse of a life. He closed his eyes, and he waited patiently for his body to just heal itself.
Harry showed up the next day and the next and the next… He sat silently, seeming to just enjoy Severus’s presence, but Severus suspected that something else was afoot. He would entertain himself by reading over coarse textbooks or looking through various newspapers. He wouldn't ask any more questions, but he seemed to grow more pensive and agitated the more days passed. Finally, on the fifth day of the break, Harry folded up The Quibbler abruptly and asked, “If you could revert death, but only if a person died within three hours of your reviving them, would you?”
Severus blinked owlishly before wondering if that was why he was alive after he had lost so much blood and succumbed to Nagini’s venom. He then paused to wonder what that meant for others that had died in the Battle of Hogwarts.
Would they be just as jarred as Severus, and what of their families? Would that not just rip open a brand new wound that just barely began to clot?
Harry stared at Severus carefully before asking cautiously, “You don't think I've twisted and perverted our world by mastering Death?”
Severus rolled his eyes before looking at Harry with little amusement. He knew that Muggles with defibrillators existed well before Harry had mastered Death, and if they could live healthy, albeit somewhat traumatized lives, then magical folks could, too.
Harry blinked owlishly. “You know, I didn't think about it like that.”
Severus clicked his tongue as he figured Harry didn't think much about the subject if he failed to account for the world he once came from.
Harry immediately appeared sheepish. “Yeah, well, I had to cut ties with the Muggle world a while ago.”
Severus just about sighed in exasperation. He wasn't exactly dealing with the greatest mind in Harry's generation.
“Okay, well, Hermione has been busy trying to find her parents,” Harry said defensively, earning a raised eyebrow. “Oh, right… She had to Obliviate them for their safety, and they seemingly left the country entirely.”
Severus nodded just slightly in understanding before wondering if the Weasleys were doing alright. The last he had heard, Augustus Rockwood had sent off a curse that hit a wall and killed Fred Weasley.
Harry grimaced. “Fred… he's not… not the same.”
Severus frowned deeply, figuring that should have been obvious.
Death, especially in a violent manner, was traumatizing, to say the least.
“You’re the only one who was affected differently,” Harry admitted as he held his hands together in his lap. “Everyone else has been rather… They aren't responding well.”
Severus raised an eyebrow.
“Fred is constantly flinching from the slightest of bangs, Lavender avoids ledges and hates having anyone behind her, Colin can't even walk without collapsing and looking down at his body like it's foreign to him, and Tonks and Remus don't even acknowledge each other anymore. It's like they weren't married or had my godson, or anything.” Harry ran his hands down his face. “I feel like I made a grave mistake, bringing everyone back.”
Severus contemplated the knowledge given to him. He briefly wondered if the only reason he was different was because he was a Slytherin that had once dappled with dark magic. He jolted a bit before looking at the Boy-Who-Lived desperately.
“You’re the only Death Eater that I revived,” Harry said softly. “I couldn't take that risk.”
Severus nodded slowly before his mind wandered to Draco.
“He's alive,” Harry said, “On a very long probationary period with his family, but alive.”
Severus gave a small sigh of relief, glad that Draco had lived through the war.
“Why did you not defend him?” Harry asked, and Severus averted his eyes. “You were still playing the part of the spy, huh?”
Severus begrudgingly nodded once.
“It must have been rough,” Harry mused aloud.
Severus knew it was beyond rough, but he didn't bother telling Harry how his chest ached and how he desperately wanted to disobey orders just to ensure Draco loved to see the next day, even at the expense of the Wizarding World. Of course, he didn't need to, with Harry using Occlumency on him.
Harry nodded slowly before saying, “You didn't, though.”
Severus frowned deeply as he gazed at the ceiling with hardened eyes. He hadn't because, in the end, he deserved to die, and he wanted to pay for his part in the war with his dying breath.
Harry frowned deeply. “A few mistakes doesn't mean a person should die—”
Severus glared at Harry sharply. He knew, and surely Harry did too if he had bothered watching his memories in the pensive, that he wasn't a good man by any stretch of the imagination. He had tortured and killed muggles, he spied on the light and all but set the world into a spiral downward, and he even took his frustrations out on innocent children that he was supposed to teach. He didn't deserve to live, and yet there he was, apparently fine when others who deserved to live were suffering from their former deaths.
Harry looked down at his hands for a moment before lifting his gaze, staring intently at Severus. “If you could, would you help them?”
Severus stared with a slightly furrowed brow.
Harry sighed. “I just — if there's a way to try and help the others, I want to know if you would, in fact, help.”
Severus figured it was the least he could do, especially considering he seemed to get out of the war much better than the others that died.
Harry gave a lopsided frown. “While I don't quite agree with that reasoning, your heart's in the right place.”
Severus rolled his eyes hard enough to see stars.
Harry chuckled before directing, “Heal up as best you can. People are counting on you.” He then stood, took his ridiculous newspaper, and left the curtained area behind.
It took a month before Severus had the strength to sit up, and it took even longer for him to be able to stand. Regardless of that, he worked hard at getting as well as he could physically, and he was eventually released from the hospital with a somewhat clean bill of health. The attack on his throat left him unable to properly speak. He could only do so in the softest of whispers, and even that hurt to do. He resorted to strengthening his magic, speaking to people with a piece of parchment and a quill similar to Rita Skeeter's famous one when needed, only using Legilimency when absolutely necessary. He also worked on keeping his Occlumency skills from becoming as terrible as they were in the beginning of his life after dying. He didn't want to be as vulnerable as he was when he first awoke in St. Mungo's.
Old habits die hard, after all.
Harry tried to be with him every step of the way. However, he had school and Auror training after finally graduating. He also felt obligated to try and help the others who had once died, too. That bleeding heart of his was always trying to be the hero he once needed, and he felt like he needed to make up for the suffering he caused others with his rash decisions.
Severus moved back to Spinner’s End, much to the Wizarding World’s disapproval. He tried to ignore how others still viewed him as a spy for the Dark Lord that had killed Albus Dumbledore, but he knew it was well-deserved. He understood that he should have been in Azkaban for his many crimes, but he was also needed by Harry for another task first. Then, he'd probably be put on trial, given the Dementor’s Kiss, and sent to the afterlife once again.
It wasn't as if a spy and traitor deserved to live, after all.
Severus sighed heavily as he sat back in his armchair and set down his empty glass of wine. He, in the comfort and safety of his own home, began to dwell on the past yet again. He drifted off to the memories of his time during the wars, always fighting against the odds, yet always on the losing end.
Being tortured by the Dark Lord for the slightest infraction, being taunted and cursed by his fellow Death Eaters because of his love for Lily, and being the catalyst for her death always tormented him from the first war. From the second, he was given more horrid memories. He was constantly seen as some kind of loyal pawn for the Dark Lord, one who would serve and eventually be tossed aside when the news arose. He would be summoned by the Dark Lord, go to that godforsaken Shrieking Shack, and have Nagini tear into his neck and pump venom through his body, even as he screamed and struggled and—
Severus jolted awake and attempted to scream as someone rested a hand on his shoulder. He could only release a strangled noise as his vocal cords refused to work properly. He tried to grab at his throat to stop the bleeding that wasn't happening, and his vision swam with blurriness while despair ran through his mind.
“Severus!”
The man in question tried in vain to recoil from the hand on him, and he just about fell from his chair in a failed attempt to put distance between him and that damn snake that the Dark Lord had used to kill him.
“Severus, please—”
Severus felt his eyes burn with tears as he gasped for air, but he couldn't quite get any in through the blood that filled his torn throat. He once again tried to free himself from the hand, but he was weak. His body was giving out on him because death was the only ending that he could have. There wasn't any other way for him to escape the clutches of his miserable life of always being someone else's pawn. He had to die. Hell, he deserved to die for all his transgressions. He deserved to be tortured for eternity by whatever came after life. He deserved to—
“It's Harry!”
Severus felt his mind snap to attention, and horror filled it at the thought that Harry was in trouble. He tried to stand, to stumble into action, but his body still betrayed him. He couldn't move past the hands holding him down, and certainly he couldn't find the strength to kick the person away, not when his knees shook violently. He couldn't see his wand, and he couldn't pry the hands off of his arms that shook him and squeezed with the efforts of keeping him still. He just couldn't—
“You have to calm down if you're going to be of any help.”
Severus felt hot tears burn tracks down his face as he gasped for air. His mind was becoming sluggish and—
“Deep breath in.”
He took a shaky breath in.
“Deep breath out.”
He released his breath in one sharp gasp.
“Deep breath in.”
He took in a gasp of air.
“Deep breath out.”
He gave an exhale that lasted just a bit longer than two seconds.
“Deep breath in.”
Severus inhaled slightly better, his vision starting to clear up as the pain began to recede.
“Deep breath out.”
The man gave a long breath out, his throat throbbing a bit, but otherwise unharmed.
“Deep breath in.”
Severus inhaled deeply.
“Hold it.”
The man paused at the change of routine, but he followed the order anyway.
“Now release.”
Severus exhaled deeply, and he found that he could see significantly better than two breaths ago. His vision was blurred from tears, sure, but he could see familiar green close to him. He felt calmed by that color, and he stopped clutching his neck. He could feel the blood pumping in his arteries and veins, not pooling on the floor around him. He felt two hands begin to gently ease away from him, and he blinked away some of the tears in his eyes to look at the one who had been holding him.
It was Harry.
Severus closed his eyes for a moment.
Of course Harry had seen him during his weakened and disgusting state. His eyes were filled with concern and a tenderness that Severus wouldn't ever deserve—
“Of course, you deserve it.”
Severus opened his eyes, and he began to try and force Harry from his mind with his Occlumency shields.
The young man snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. I've been practicing.”
Severus scowled as he tried to bat away Harry's hands from his arms.
Harry allowed it, but he still hovered close by. “Easy does it.”
Severus’s scowl intensified at how Harry was surely looking down at—
“I'm not looking down at you,” Harry said gently, “I'm genuinely worried about you.”
Severus scoffed, and he immediately winced upon feeling his throat ache tremendously.
“Severus,” Harry said sternly, “Look at me, Severus.”
The Slytherin realized he had averted his eyes at some point, and he returned his gaze to the Potter.
Harry was staring at Severus carefully before giving a forced smile. “Are you slightly better now?”
Severus was not better, but he attempted to even his face out and convince himself he was, in fact, in excellent shape.
Harry sighed. “I should have figured you would have the same trauma as the others. You just hide yours better, I suppose.”
Severus rolled his eyes at the obviousness of that statement. He had been good at hiding his true feelings and emotions for years. Of course a young man like Harry wouldn't see through his schooled expression and typically calm demeanor.
Harry flushed just a bit. “You don't have to be so mean about it.”
Severus exhaled through his nose just enough to indicate amusement.
Harry stared for a moment before asking, “So?”
Severus stared at Harry blankly.
Harry sighed as he stood up properly (when had he knelt down in front of Severus?), and he reiterated, “Why do you think you don't deserve any kindness?’
Severus thought about how he didn't deserve to live, let alone receive any kindness. He was just there because Harry surely pitied him and—
“I don't pity you, even if you pity yourself,” Harry grumbled.
Severus glared sharply at the Gryffindor.
“I'm worried,” he stressed. “You're obviously grappling with serious depression and the trauma of dying. Your self-worth isn't exactly good, either.”
“Very astute,” Severus uttered far too quietly with a sneer.
Harry groaned. “I’m not some bratty little student anymore. I'm an adult. Treat me like one.”
Severus eyed the young man before him, begrudgingly nodding once. He then commented, “You're still a dunderhead.”
Harry released a noise somewhere between a snort of amusement and a sigh of exasperation. “Yeah, okay, I guess.”
Severus smirked just a bit.
The young man gave a small smile before saying, “I'm sorry that I dropped by unannounced, but I came here for a reason.”
Severus raised an expectant eyebrow.
Harry cringed just a bit. “I was hoping that you could either agree to use an office in Diagon Alley as the spot to meet with others like you or my living room.”
Severus’s eyebrow raised higher. “Your living room?”
“I inherited the Black Family Townhouse,” he explained simply.
Severus thought it over before wondering if the revived would be comfortable in such a place.
“Oh, shit. You're right,” Harry cursed.
Severus’s nose wrinkled up a bit. “Are you an adult or a pubescent teenager?”
“Both, technically,” Harry answered with a shrug.
If Severus was still a professor, he would have taken at least twenty points from Gryffindor.
Harry groaned. “Okay, I get it. Don't be a smartass.”
Severus nodded once in approval. There was hope for Harry yet, or so he believed.
Harry gave a wide grin that was practically blinding before he asked, “So, the office in Diagon Alley, yeah?”
Severus nodded once in approval.
“Good. Before we go there, I want you to promise me that you'll reach out to me if you ever need help again,” Harry demanded.
Severus found that to be quite distasteful, as was evident by how his nose wrinkled up.
Harry rolled his green eyes toward the heavens. “Oh, it's not weakness or anything—”
Severus exhaled deeply from his nose.
“You deserve help, and I'm going to give it to you,” Harry said firmly, his conviction unwavering despite the tall order he just served himself. “I want you to reach out.”
Severus frowned as he tried to think of the last time a helping hand was extended out to him. He drew a blank, only remembering the time he had needed help, and he was rejected by Lily. In fairness to her, he had called her a Mudblood earlier in the school year, but his mother had passed away and—
“I'll help you,” Harry said gently. “I'm not going to just tell you you don't deserve it. You do deserve help, and I want to help you.”
Severus stared long and hard before eventually nodding.
Harry nodded back. “Good. If I help you, you can help others, and they can help others, too. It'll be a chain of helpfulness.”
Severus, though he didn't think such a chain could ever truly exist, decided to go along with Harry's little idea.
Surely, if he was helped, he could help the others.
And so, Severus began to heal one step at a time.