Rehabilitate

Harry took a steadying breath as he stood outside the curtained-off area and tried to work up the courage to go inside. He was nervous. Since Kreacher had informed him at breakfast that the half-blood potions master had woken up, Harry had had trouble focusing on the innumerable other tasks that demanded the attention of The-Man-Who-Vanquished-Voldemort. Now, late in the evening, his nerves had had time to stew. He was not at all sure of the reception that awaited him behind the curtains. Shaking his head, Harry squared his jaw and stepped through.

The room inside was dimly lit and only contained a large hospital bed, a dresser with potions vials, clean bandages and other healer’s equipment, and a small, empty bedside table. The bed was occupied. For a moment, black eyes met Harry’s, before they flicked away.

“Hello, Professor.”

Snape did not return the greeting.

Harry shuffled awkwardly. “I heard you woke up this morning.”

There was no reaction.

“Have they told you what happened, yet?”

Harry waited for an answer, and when the silence continued, he took a few steps towards the bed in an effort to glean something from Snape’s expression. It was blank. Snape was staring straight ahead, and could have been a statue, were it not for the occasional blink. Harry did not know what to make of it. Derision or anger he would have expected, and part of him had even hoped for a somewhat cordial welcome, but this complete lack of any response left him baffled. Harry stood beside the bed, frozen in indecision, before he remembered his purpose in coming here. He cleared his throat.

“Right.” He reached into his pocket. “I just wanted to…”

Had Harry not still been watching Snape’s expressions closely, he would have missed the brief flare of terror that passed over his face before it settled back into complete emptiness. Harry stopped breathing. Never before had he seen someone show such awful anguish. It surpassed all the fear he had witnessed on the battlefield, in the faces of friends and foes, even in Hermione and Ron, who had been with him through the worst of it. This fear, that had for a split-second distorted Snape’s countenance into an agonized grimace, seemed to anticipate a fate far worse than death. Harry looked over his shoulder but could make out no threat that would warrant such a response. The room was as empty as before, and the quiet bustle of the hospital wing surrounding it was as soothing and gentle as ever. Harry turned back to the bed. The blank expression was once again firmly in place, and if it had not left a vivid impression in his mind, Harry might have thought Snape’s sudden terror to have been nothing but a figment of his imagination.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, unsure whether to address the fear, or pretend not to have noticed. Harry had just decided on the latter option, and again made a motion to reach into his pocket, when the same terror flitted over Snape’s face for a second time. Instinctively, Harry was gripped by the pressing need to alleviate the distress he saw.

“Shh, it’s alright, Professor. You’re safe. I promise,” he said and sank to his knees next to the bed. “Nothing’s going to happen to you here, okay? We’re at Hogwarts, in the hospital wing. It’s just me, and Madam Pomfrey, and a few patients. No threats.”

Black eyes seemed involuntarily drawn to Harry, before they snapped back to stare straight ahead. But the short glance had been enough.

“Merlin,” Harry wheezed. “You’re scared of me.” Harry frantically scrambled backwards and held up his empty hands. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! I won’t do anything! I swear! I didn’t come here to … to hurt you, or something. I … No! Why would you think that? You’re … you saved me! You saved everybody!” Harry felt tears stinging his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to take deep breaths to get himself under control. The thought that this man, who he had come to respect and even admire over the last few weeks, should be terrified of him, was like a punch to the gut.

Gathering himself, Harry looked back at Snape. The potions master had not moved at all and was still staring straight ahead. “I’ll give you an oath, if you like.”, Harry said quietly. There was no discernible reaction. “I would have to draw my wand, though,” Harry added. Receiving no hint in either direction, Harry decided to simply get it over with. At the very least, an oath should dispel some of the Snape’s fear, and Harry could not bear to have his intentions so misunderstood for a second longer. He remained where he was, sitting on the floor, a good distance from the bed, and pulled out his wand. Taking a moment to consider the exact wording of the oath, he spoke:

“I, Harry James Potter, swear on my life and my magic, that I have no intention to harm, in body, mind or soul, Severus Snape, not now, nor in the future. May Magic be my witness.” He flicked his wand, producing a bright lumos, and extinguished it with a thought. With baited breath he waited for some acknowledgement of the action from the other occupant of the room, but to no avail. Snape remained as motionless as before. Moving cautiously, Harry got up and took a few small steps towards the bed. For the first time since he had entered, Snape did not look away when their eyes met. Harry sighed in relief.

“Hi,” he croaked with a wobbly smile. Snape only blinked at him. “Uh, so, sorry about that.” Harry rubbed his neck and looked up at the ceiling. “I only came here to give you back your memories. And to check, if you needed anything, or had any questions, or … you know, something.” Harry glanced at Snape, to see that he had lifted an eyebrow in a mixture of inquiry and mockery. Harry couldn’t quite contain his grin at the familiarity of the expression.

“So, I’ve got the memory in my pocket. Do you mind if I take it out?” Snape frowned in response but remained silent.

“I’m sorry, could you please say something? Do you want me to just leave it here and get out?”

Snape fixed Harry with a look that clearly said that he thought him the most idiotic person in the universe.

“Huh?”, Harry responded eloquently.

Snape rolled his eyes and seemed to beg for patience.

“Are you not talking to me?”

Snape’s stare turned first incredulous, then frustrated.

“Oh!” Harry could have slapped himself. “You can’t talk?”

Snape’s face relaxed and he blinked slowly.

“Shit! Oops, sorry. I mean, is there a way for you to communicate?”

Snape pursed his lips in disgruntlement.

“That’s a no, then.” Harry hesitated, at a loss for how to proceed.

“Could you write down, what you want to say?”

The frustrated look returned.

“No. Okay, could you use some sort of sign language?”

The frustration intensified. Harry tilted his head in thought.

“Can you not move, either?”

Snape blinked at him slowly.

“You can only move your face?”

Another blink. Harry swallowed nervously.

“Okay, how about a system, then? Blink once for yes, twice for no. I’ll ask you yes-or-no questions. Alright?”

The following blink was more abrupt and seemed very intentional.

“Great! So, uhm, where to start?”

Snape looked exasperated.

“Sorry! You’ll have to be patient with me. I know, not your strong suit, no offence, sir. I’ll do my best.”

Harry thought he saw faint amusement enter Snape’s eyes. He smiled.

“Alright, first things first, are you in pain?”

There was some hesitation, then Snape blinked once.

“Do you want me to get Madam Pomfrey?”

Two blinks.

“Do you want me to give you a pain potion?”

One blink. Harry looked around and spotted a vial with what looked to be pain potion sitting on the dresser. He picked it up and held it out for Snape to inspect.

“This one?” Yes. Harry unstoppered the vial and held it to the man’s lips, only to receive furious blinking. “No?”, he asked confused. Snape looked murderous. Harry breathed out slowly.

“Okay. No drinking. Is this the right potion?” Snape blinked once, very emphatically.

“So, if you can’t drink it… Oh, of course. Sorry. Do you want me to spell it into your stomach?”

A blink, accompanied by a skeptically raised eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, I know how to. I’ve done it at least a hundred times during the last few weeks.”

Snape looked at him quizzically.

“I’ll explain, but first, do you want me to spell the potion into your stomach now?”

Snape blinked in the affirmative.

Harry pulled his wand, concentrated, and with a little twirl, the potion vanished from the vial.

“All good?”

Snape blinked yes.

Harry conjured a chair for himself and sat down. “Alright, I’ll tell you what happened after you …” Harry gestured vaguely. “Okay? So, Tom – that’s the Dark Lord – told everybody through this weird creepy telepathy thing, that we had one hour to retrieve the fallen”, Harry cleared his throat and exhaled shakily. “And that he would spare everybody else, if I gave myself up. So we, that’s me, Ron and Hermione, went back to the castle, and I went up to Dumbledore’s office. Your office, I suppose.” Harry looked at Snape with a wry smile, only to find him looking back with a confused frown.

“You have a question?” One blink. “Is it about the office?” One blink. “McGonagall is acting headmistress, but she refused to replace you. So, it’s still your office. You’re still headmaster. Was that your question?”

Snape blinked once, although he seemed pensive.

“So, Hermione and Ron went to look for the last of Tom’s things –” Harry looked to gauge whether Snape knew what he meant and was met with a steady gaze, so he continued. “And I went to look at your memories in the pensieve.” Harry looked at the floor. “After I had watched them, I knew that I had to die. I hid under the cloak and went into the forest, to meet Tom. He cast the killing curse at me. I died. And came back. I played dead. Mrs. Malfoy lied to cover for me. I think she just wanted to get to Draco. He’s fine, by the way.” Harry glanced up, and saw that Snape was staring at him with great intensity. Harry licked his lips. “Tom made Hagrid carry me back to the castle. He went for his typical gloating. Neville killed Nagini.” Harry smiled fondly at the thought of Neville’s bravery. “I slipped away using the cloak and helped deal with the final death eaters, until only Tom was left. We were in the great hall by that point. I revealed myself, and we faced off. I told everyone that you had been on our side all along, and then Tom cast the killing curse again, and I cast Expelliarmus, but because his wand was loyal to me, my spell kind of beat his, so in the end, his own curse killed him.” Harry finished in a rush, feeling embarrassed by Snape’s scrutiny.

Seeing incredulity mixed with a myriad of other emotions couldn’t begin to decipher on the potion master’s face, Harry frowned. “You don’t believe me?”

Snape blinked once, reassuringly.

“Oh, okay, good.” Harry smiled weakly. “I guess, I should tell you who died.” Harry swallowed. “Uhm, apart from the Malfoys, basically all death eaters from the inner circle are dead. I’m sorry. I don’t know if you were close with anyone?”, Harry asked apprehensively. “I could go into more detail, if you want…”

Snape blinked twice.

Harry nodded and pressed his lips together. “Okay. We lost Colin Creevey, Lavender.” He paused and wiped his eyes. “Remus and Tonks.” Harry felt as if he were choking. “And Fred.” He curled in on himself to hide his tears.

It took some time, before he could pull himself together. Blowing his nose in a conjured handkerchief and wiping his eyes, he raised his head with one last sniffle. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall to pieces, sir. I guess I haven’t really had time to process everything yet.” Harry hoped that what he saw in Snape’s eyes was something close to compassion, and not derision, or worse.

“Anyways,” Harry continued with a shaky exhale. “The last few weeks have been quite hectic. It’s been –” Harry scrunched up his face as he tried to count the days since the battle “– about eighteen days, I think. We’ve been busy with rebuilding the castle, trying to get some order set up in the ministry, dealing with trials. Everybody’s pretty swamped. Hermione is trying to take advantage of the chaos in the ministry to get some laws passed under the radar to make things easier for muggleborns, werewolves, house elves, as so on. I’ve never seen her this focused on anything, and I was there for all her exam preparations.” Harry chuckled, but quickly turned serious again. “Your trial is next week. I’ve managed to get it postponed until you woke up but I couldn’t hold them off any longer – they wanted to try you in absentia, those bastards.” He shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about, I don’t think. Hermione, Neville, McGonagall and I have been working on your defence.” Harry looked at Snape with grim determination, who looked startled and a little lost. “I’ve been telling everybody that you are a hero. They won’t bloody well dare to send you to Azkaban.”

Snape frowned and blinked twice.

“No? No what? No, they won’t take you to Azkaban? I’ll make sure they won’t. Even if I have to get you out of there by force, sir.”, Harry said firmly.

Snape’s frown and blinking intensified.

Harry bit his lip. “I feel as though you would be shouting at me right now if you could. But I’m afraid I don’t get what you’re trying to tell me.” Snape continued to stare at him angrily, but after a moment all fight seemed to leave him, and he let his eyes fall closed.

“Of course. You must be tired, sir.” Harry stood up and vanished his chair. “There will be time to talk about your trial and everything later. Do you need anything now?”

Snape blinked twice.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I still haven’t given you the memories.” Harry pulled the vial from his pocket. “Do you want me to put them on the nightstand?”

After a short consideration, Snape again blinked twice. Harry frowned, puzzled. “Do you want me to keep them?” He was answered with too more decisive blinks. “So you want me to return them to you?” One, rather emphatic, blink. Harry thought for a moment. “You want me to put them back in your mind?” Harry queried doubtfully. This was quite an unusual thing to do, as memories that were put directly into someone’s mind tended to be quite overwhelming. Snape blinked once, his brows drawn together in determination.

“Alright, sir. If that’s what you want.” Harry carefully unstoppered the vial and held it close to Snape’s temple. With his wand, he pulled the swirling white mist from the vial and touched it to Snape’s skin, where it was quickly absorbed. Harry drew back and caught sight of Snape’s pained expression. Suddenly feeling as though he were intruding on something personal, he turned away. “I’ll leave you to it.”, he murmured quietly, and stepped outside the curtain.