From a far distant place, it seemed, came the faint noise of a kettle boiling over. A clang resounded somewhere too, and it was concluded that he had been placed outside of a kitchen. It hurt to think about things right now, and his mind felt so fuzzy. It was as if someone had clobbered him with a rock. His eyes felt like lead, too heavy to open, and his arms and legs sat immobile. He thought he felt a pillow beneath his aching head, and a soft mattress underneath him. He opened his mouth and let out a groan. Suddenly, there came a noise from somewhere in the far corners of the room. Feet were moving somewhere. Someone had obviously heard him, and they were coming to where he lay. Without strength or his ability to see, he waited for them.
The footsteps stopped at the edge of his bed. He knew that someone was standing above him, for he could hear his or her breath. He attempted to open his eyes and see who they were, but it was impossible…they were cemented shut, it seemed. His tongue, while it felt enlarged and out of use, moved around in his mouth. Slowly, in a slurred yet comprehendible speech, he asked the being standing before him, “Who are you?”
He heard a chair squeak on the floor, and heard someone sit down. Then, a hot rag slapped onto his face. The heat helped to relax his muscles, and he was able to open his eyes a little bit. The world was swirling before him, and objects were foggier than normal. He was confused and disoriented, and he couldn’t see the person who had come to sit by his side. He did, however, hear a voice.
“Your glasses are broken,” it said, “I was in the process of fixing them when I heard you wake up. Deciding that it was a little more important that I be here instead of in there, I left them on the counter and came to see what you needed.”
“Who are you?”
“Why, I don’t think we need to divulge anything just yet,” said the voice again, “All you need to know is that you are alive. You’ve been asleep now for nearly two weeks, but you survived the worst of it all. The only place to go now is up, and while it will take some time before you are fully recovered, you can still recover none the less.”
“Is he dead?” asked the boy upon the bed. He heard the person beside him sigh, as if he were very sad.
“No, I’m afraid not,” it said, and he could detect a sliver of regret there in the voice, “He did not succeed in vanquishing you…but you did not succeed either.”
“Are they…are the people safe?”
“Harry, the world has been thrown into darkness now.”
“I know you, then? How do you know my name?”
“Yes, you know me, but I cannot let you know me now. You are just now beginning to recover, and you cannot yet see me. When you can, then you will know who I am. For now, just call me your friend.”
“Well…” said Harry, and he wanted so badly to ask all of the questions swirling in his mind. However, just as the first was on the tip of his tongue, he felt himself grow dizzy. Sinking further into his pillows, he let out a moan.
“I…I can’t stay…”
“Sleep now,” said the voice of his friend, and he listened to him shortly, “Sleep and dream of the things that once were. We can go over it all when you wake up.”
He gave in to the darkness.
Harry awoke the next morning, his vision still dizzying but a bit clearer. His head, while it still throbbed annoyingly, didn’t feel quite as heavy as it had before. He was able to open his eyes without a problem, and he called out to the good stranger to see if he had fixed his glasses. He didn’t appear for a few moments, and there was no sound in the kitchen. Harry feared that he may have left him alone, and he knew that he was in no condition to take care of himself.
“Hello?” he called out, and winced. Raising his voice made his throat and his head hurt. Slowly, he slumped onto his pillow and waited. Then…and he felt himself relax…he heard the footsteps approach his bedside, and he turned slowly so that his eyes were level with his “ friend’s” knees. He, the friend, held the glasses up to Harry, and then he gently placed them on his face. Suddenly, the world cleared up a bit.
Harry was lying on a bed dressed with white linens. The house that held them was wooden and unpainted, the walls bare but for a few pictures and a mirror or two. It was small too, and he knew that he had never been here before. His memory, while slow right now, knew that this was no place it had ever seen. He drew his eyes up so that he could see his caregiver’s face. It was then that he wanted to scream, to run, to escape.
There, standing in front of him and looking positively miserable, was Severus Snape.
“You…” Harry said, and his head started to spin again. This time, however, it was from both anger and pain mixed together, “You…I can’t believe that…”
“Don’t excite yourself, Potter, you’ll faint,” Snape said, and he bent to lower Harry’s head. Harry, however, had no intention of lying back down.
“You’re a MURDERER!” he shouted, and he thought that the pain in his chest would kill him, “Come back to kill again?!? I…you should be rotting away in an Azkaban cell right now!!! I saw Ron…he hit you with that Stunning spell!”
“Yes, well,” Snape sneered, “Needless to say your friend’s skills with Stunning spells are not very efficient. He was only able to hit my hand and make it go numb. Other than that, I was perfectly capable of getting up.”
“But you hit the ground!” Harry retorted, and he winced in agony as he tried to lift himself up on his arms, “I…I watched as you fell!”
“It’s called acting,” said Snape, and he let out a small chuckle, “something I’ve become very good at. I lay there, waiting to see how the battle would end, a gut instinct telling me that you would fail. I had to stay behind and help you if in the end, if I could.”
“And why did you have to do that?!?” Harry asked, “You killed Dumbledore, you hated me as a student…WHAT DID YOU NEED TO SAVE ME FOR?!?”
“I felt an obligation to someone that I cared deeply about,” Snape replied, and Harry detected a slight twinge of sadness in his voice. His curiosity was growing erratically. However, as his interest in the story grew, so did his anger.
“ And who was that?” Harry spat at him, “My father for saving your life so long ago? Or perhaps it was Dumbledore, the man that you killed in cold blood? Which of them was it, huh? Which of those that you betrayed did you feel obligated to?”
Snape pulled a chair over to where Harry lay. He pushed Harry back down on the pillow so that his head was down. Harry didn’t say so, but he felt much better. Sitting up was too much of an effort.
“First of all, you MUST stop getting overexcited,” Snape said calmly, “ You were hit with a Killing Curse nearly two weeks ago, and your recovery has only just begun. If you get overexerted, you could destroy all that you have achieved, and fall backwards towards how you were a few days ago. After you learn what has happened, you will not want that to happen…we don’t have time for it to. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Harry muttered, “Now stop stalling, and tell me what is going on.”
“I’ll start by telling you that I did not kill Dumbledore in cold blood,” he said, and Harry wanted to shoot back up in bed. Pain held him back from that pleasure.
“I saw you, Snape,” he said, “You uttered those words with hatred in your eyes.”
“Repulsed by what I was doing, I hated myself,” said Snape, pushing past Harry’ s remark, “He knew that night that after being in the cave with you that he would not have any strength left to fight off a threat. He asked me that, if there was a problem or if something were to happen, then I was to do everything in my power to keep you and the information that the both of you carried safe.”
“So you had to kill him to do that?”
“Dumbledore, then in so much pain, was about to divulge all that he knew,” Snape replied, “He knew then that he wouldn’t last much longer. He begged me, pleaded with me, to end his life. Apart from that, I knew that you would tell everyone that I was a Death Eater. I ran away, returning to the Dark Lord so that I could be safe. Then, feeling guilty for betraying the Order and Dumbledore himself, I fought in the battle the other day for your side. I killed several of the Death Eaters myself, waiting for an opportunity to strike so that it looked like a member of the Order had killed them. Then, the battle drew to a close, and I saw Voldemort take you down. You fell, and I thought for one horrible second that everything we had fought for in the past fell with you. He laughed, and the Death Eaters vanished after that. I stayed behind, until I knew that all was quiet, and then crept over to where you were lying. I wept, knowing that the Wizarding World was doomed. Imagine my surprise when I heard, however faint it was, a breath escape from your body. Another one followed, and you were alive…for now. I scooped you up and carried you here, to this old abandoned Muggle cabin.”
Harry was in shock. He had hated Snape more than anyone since that night on the tower. Now, to discover that he had done it all to save Harry was beyond anything that he could comprehend at the moment. He did the only thing he knew to do…ask another question.
“But was it because of my father that you decided to save me?”
“No, Potter. No…frankly, if it had only been your father that I had known, I probably would have left you lying there. No, it was because of your mother that I decided to save you.”
“My mother?”
“She was the only one who was kind to me at that school. She saw the light in me even when I could not. I pushed her away, causing her to hate me, but that was only because I didn’t want my Slytherin comrades to know the truth.”
“And what was that?”
“That I was in love with a Mudblood.”
“You were… in love with my mum?” Harry asked, positive now that he was going insane.
“She never knew, but yes,” Snape said, “I loved your mother very much. Her kindness and compassion for others was unimaginable. She was a good person, Lily Evans was. And I knew that it was my turn to be a good person and return the favor when I saw her son lying there, ready to die. I had to see if I could help him.”
“But…how did I…” Harry began, and then he had to stop.
His body had begun to ache again. The world was spinning along with his mind, now so full of information and confusion that he thought it would burst. He felt his eyelids flutter, and forced them to open. He had to know what had happened to Hermione and Ron, to all of the people back at Hogwarts…to Ginny. He had to know all about it, and what Snape meant when he said that the world had been thrown into darkness.
“Thank you,” was all that he was able to get out. Snape said something back, but he didn’t comprehend it. Numbed with exhaustion and pain, unconsciousness took him prisoner once again.