Chapter Text
A light drizzle was falling when Harry arrived outside of Hogsmeade. Under the safety of the Invisibility Cloak, he crept towards the Forbidden Forest. It was far too cold for the chill to be natural, and he gripped his wand tightly, ready for the Dementors he knew were lurking nearby.
None came for him and, in the safety of the forest, he stripped down to his trousers and t-shirt. Throwing the wand he'd stolen to the forest floor, Harry pulled out the Snitch, pressed it to his lips in shaking hands, and said, as steadily as he could, "I'm about to die."
The Snitch broke open, revealing the Resurrection Stone sitting in the centre. As it was too dark to examine the carvings with his eyes, he ran his fingers over them, making out the triangle of the Cloak, and the circle for the Stone. Closing his eyes, he turned the stone over in his hands three times.
In the darkness, he heard the sound of others, and when he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by figures. Sirius stood grinning, looking younger and healthier than Harry had ever seen him in life. James's loving smile and shock of dark hair were almost identical to Harry's. He was still dressed in what he'd been wearing when he'd died, and his glasses were a bit lopsided. Lily stood near James, her smile the brightest of all. She pushed her hair back as she approached him, her green eyes exactly like his.
"You've been so brave."
Had they been watching him all along? Had they seen everything that had happened? Had they seen everything with Snape? Even with his happiness at seeing them, he couldn't stand the thought of them watching while he'd been raped and tortured. Shame filled him and he almost wished he hadn't summoned them.
"We've never been more proud of you," said James, and Harry couldn't help but give him a smile, the growing ice in his stomach melting. It didn't matter to them what had happened to him. They'd love him no matter what. It didn't matter what happened next. He'd be with them again shortly. Permanently this time. He'd never suffer the agony of loss again.
Sirius stepped forward. "I'm honoured to be your godfather."
"I've missed you," said Harry, looking at each of them in turn.
"We've always been with you," said Lily. "And we'll stay with you until the end."
"I can't take the Stone with me," he told her, regretfully. "I have to go without it."
"That's fine," said James with a nod. "We'll still be with you."
Even at the worst of it, he'd never been alone. And now, he could watch over his friends the way that they had watched over him. Glad to know that the end was only the beginning of something new, Harry said, "I'll see you again shortly," and dropped the Stone near the base of a tree. He pulled off his Invisibility Cloak and hid it with the Stone.
He left for Hogwarts with nothing to protect him but his thin clothes. He wished he knew how to conjure the collar Snape had placed on his neck, but he had no idea how. Eager submission would have to convince Voldemort.
Voices sounded near Hogwarts's gate and Harry, spotting a group of Death Eaters gathered in front, stepped out of the forest and said, "I seek my Master."
For a moment, none of them knew what to do. Then, he was surrounded, tied up, and pulled along at wand point as if they expected him to break free at any moment.
"Summon the Dark Lord!"
Voldemort wasn't already here? Where was he?
They dragged him into Hogwarts, pulling him into the Great Hall where a throne sat where Dumbledore once had. Harry lowered his head as soon as they stepped into the Hall, ready to bow and scrape. A door slammed open at the other end and footsteps sounded - quick and determined. He'd recognise them anywhere.
Falling to his knees, Harry pressed his forehead to the floor and begged, "Forgive me, Master. I tried to resist them, but I failed."
"Crucio!"
All of the pain seemed to be centred in his scar. It didn't hurt as much as it used to - it hadn't for a while, but it didn't make sense that only his scar should hurt. Still, he screamed and writhed on the floor. He couldn't afford to slip up - not this close to the end -, and so he guarded his mind.
Thankfully, Voldemort didn't try to press inside. "Prepare him," he ordered.
Harry was hauled to his feet and dragged from the room. As he was pulled up, he caught a glimpse of Voldemort with Nagini wrapped around his shoulders. She was here! The Order would be able to kill her for sure! All the pieces were in place.
Scrambling, trying to keep up with the quick pace of the Death Eaters dragging him away, Harry glanced around for Snape as he was pulled out the castle, towards the Forbidden Forest. In a clearing not far from Hagrid's hut rested a stone altar surrounded by runes.
They yanked him past it, to a bathtub. Tearing off his clothes, they pushed him into the tub and scrubbed him down magically and manually. It took all of his will power to placidly allow them to do whatever they wanted, even when one of them stuck a hose in his anus and sprayed cold water up his arse. He was just trying to figure out how to kick them without being caught when he was pulled from the tub, dried off with spells that made all his hair stand on end, dressed in a white tunic, and floated back to the altar.
The number of Death Eaters gathered in the clearing had grown, but Snape was nowhere in sight. Harry couldn't exactly peer closely at the faces, and the Death Eaters all dressed fairly similarly, but he'd recognise Snape's stiff posture anywhere.
They laid him on the altar and a witch Harry'd never seen before approached, drawing designs on his body with cold, wet goo.
Where was Snape? Wasn't he supposed to do this step? Had something happened?
After she’d finished with the designs, the witch poured a thin, sweet-tasting potion down Harry's throat, then stepped away.
This was it. Time to die. He closed his eyes, ready to slip away into nothingness.
~
He woke in a room clouded with fog. Tom stood in the centre, staring down at Harry.
"Did you really think he'd let you go?"
It hadn't worked? Cursing, Harry climbed to his feet. "It doesn't matter. There are other ways for me to die."
"And be stopped." Tom waved his hands, and bars shot out of the floor, surrounding Harry. "I've let you have control for far too long. I won't die by your hands."
Slamming his fists against the bars, Harry yelled, "I'll never let you have control!"
Tom laughed. "You're so naive." He waved his hand and the bars shifted, turning into chains which held Harry in place, spread-eagle. "Not to mention so easily manipulated."
"Fuck you," spat Harry. "I'll never set you free. You'll never see those memories because-"
Tom smirked. "What memories are you talking about?"
His heart sinking to his stomach, Harry glared back.
Gliding over to Harry, Tom leaned forward. "Do you mean that wall I showed you? Silly child, that wall was the wall that contained me inside your mind. It's crumbled now. Severus messed up. Or rather, you messed up. The plot to remove me failed."
Was that the purpose of the white potion? Why hadn't Snape just said so? Hadn't Harry warned him that keeping secrets just put the two of them in more danger? Angry, Harry said, "It doesn't matter. I've never trusted you and I'll never rest as long as you're alive."
Tom pressed up against Harry, holding his chin in place so he wouldn't get bitten. "You've already proven yourself capable of falling in love with your captors. I wonder if rape will cause you to fall in love with me just as it did for Severus?"
"Fuck. You."
Grinning, Tom said, "You're such a fun little plaything. I may give you a body of your own, eventually, but for now, I think I'll keep you locked up in here." Releasing Harry's chin, he waved his hand, and Harry started sinking into the floor.
No!
This was his mind. Tom had no right to take control! Focusing all of his concentration on his feet, Harry strained until he managed to pull one foot out of the muck.
"No, you don't!" said Tom as he threw up walls around Harry.
Ripping his other foot free, Harry smashed through them, using thought again to create bars of iron around Tom. Knives flew at Harry and he stood, turning them harmless as they were deflected past him.
"I can help us both!" yelled Tom as he sent the floor rolling.
Harry flew up into the air and changed the floor to spikes. "Stop lying!"
Suddenly, bright green light filled their battlefield.
"NO!" screamed Tom. "He wouldn't!"
But Voldemort had.
Throwing out his arms, Harry welcomed the Killing Curse.
~
He woke on the altar when a cold hand pressed against his neck. Off in the distance, explosions and shouts filled the air, the smell of smoke and spells thick around him. The dull ache in his scar was gone and somehow, Harry knew that Tom had left him forever.
"He's dead," said Narcissa, her icy fingers pressed against Harry's pounding pulse.
"Take him to be put on display in the Ministry," ordered Voldemort, his voice confident. "Everyone else, follow me. It's time we finished this pathetic rebellion."
Narcissa's fingers withdrew from his neck as the Death Eaters marched off, heading towards Hogwarts, towards the sound of battle.
"Levicorpus!" He felt his body lift. Narcissa floated him through the air, moving him away from the direction of Hogwarts. After what was probably a minute, but seemed like ages, she lowered him to the ground, then dropped something thin, long and light onto his chest.
"He'd want you to have this," she said in a whisper. "If you find my son, save him."
Harry opened his eyes slowly. Narcissa was kneeling above him. Paler than ever with huge, dark circles under her eyes, she met his gaze with pleading eyes. "He'll be killed if the Dark Lord finds him," she said, her voice cracking.
Sitting up, Harry felt the object roll off his chest. Glancing down, he found a wand. Snape's wand. Snatching it up, he jumped to his feet. "Snape?" he asked, not wanting to hear the answer.
Her lips pressed thin, she shook her head. "He took the Elder Wand," she said as she stood. "That's why Draco is in danger. You must save him." Throwing her cloak hood over her silvery hair, she hurried off, disappearing into the blackness of the forest.
No.
It couldn't be.
But Snape never would've given up his wand.
Unless he had been planning to give his wand to Harry all along.
Hoping desperately, Harry gripped the wand and ran off towards the fight. He was almost out of the clearing, when he spotted Nagini curled on the ground. He raised Snape's wand, but as he approached, he realised the reason she'd been left behind.
Her mouth hung open, black foam covering her tongue and eyes. She was dead.
Harry grinned. All the Horcruxes were gone! Only Voldemort was left.
As Harry raced towards the entrance of Hogwarts the chaos and the noise increased. People shouted his name and spells flew past him, but he ignored everything, not even casting, focusing all his strength and energy on finding Voldemort.
The Order members weren’t the only ones fighting. House-elves scurried around, casting spells at giant spiders (Aragog's descendants most likely); centaurs, led by Bane, Ronan, and Magorian, shot arrows; giants fought Thestrals; and hippogriffs swooped, clawed and soared.
Bursting through what remained of the doors leading to the Great Hall, Harry screamed, "Voldemort!"
An eerie silence followed as everyone - both friend and foe - turned to stare at him.
"Impossible!" said a voice.
"Harry Potter," spat Voldemort, as he turned from duelling McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn, and raised his wand. "I should have known. No matter. I'll kill you, just as I killed Severus Snape."
"No," said Harry, unwilling to believe that Snape was dead. The battle returned to life around them, Voldemort knocking off the spells directed towards him with lazy flicks of his wand, Harry dodging the ones that came his way. "He's alive. He knew you were planning to kill him. He prepared for it. We're allies."
Voldemort laughed. Behind him, Bellatrix was fighting Ginny, Hermione, and Luna, but Harry pushed it from his mind. He had to focus. He had to take Voldemort down.
"That's what he wanted you to think," said Voldemort. "He was loyal to the end. A shame I had to kill him to take this." He held up his wand and Harry knew it to be the Elder Wand even with his bad eyesight.
Realisation rising in him like a tidal wave, Harry announced, "He hasn't been yours for years, Tom."
"You dare-" hissed Voldemort.
"Oh yes," said Harry. "I know more than you think. I spoke with your other self and he told me how to destroy you."
The red eyes widened slightly before narrowing and Harry knew he had him. Voldemort had feared his other self - so much that he'd probably done his best to keep Harry from knowing the truth. Maybe even so much that he'd tried to kill Harry with the hope of killing his other self - even knowing it would bring him one step closer to death.
From the way Voldemort was eyeing him now, Harry imagined he was trying to determine whether the Horcrux had been destroyed or lived just as Harry lived.
Harry didn't intend to let him find out. "Go ahead," he challenged. "Try to strike me down. That wand is useless in your hands because you aren't the true master."
Voldemort's red eyes glittered. "Which will soon be remedied when I find the Malfoy boy."
"You don't get it, Tom. Snape didn't offer to teach Draco duelling to take the power of the wand for himself, he trained Draco in duelling to give the power of the wand to me. I'm the true master of the Elder Wand. That's why the Cruciatus you cast on me earlier didn't hurt me at all - only Tom."
Surprise flickered over Voldemort's face, but then confidence replaced it, and he jerked the Elder Wand.
Ready for the attack, Harry yelled, "Accio Elder Wand!" before Voldemort yelled Avada Kedavra!"
The wand soared out of Voldemort's hand, the spell not cast. His skills as a Seeker as sharp as ever, Harry caught it and, in the same breath, shouted "Avada Kedavra!"
Green light blazed forth from the Elder Wand and Voldemort fell, his face frozen in death. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, his eyes a dull black instead of red.
Shrieks of delight and horror filled the room as dozens of spells raced towards Harry. Dodging more quickly than he'd ever dodged in his life, Harry sent spells racing back at the Death Eaters who were attempting to do what their master could not.
The months of training kicked in, and Harry wove his way through the confusion of the hall, casting shield charms on his allies in between throwing curses at the Death Eaters. Without his glasses and with all the chaos and smoke further clouding his vision, Harry didn't dare cast the Killing Curse, but did his best to follow the deadly spells that raced at him back to their sources. Despite the fact that he'd spent most of his imprisonment dodging instead of casting, each spell hit its target unerringly. It was better than any practice session with Snape simply because he wasn't targeting faceless blobs of coloured balls, but the very people who'd put him and his friends through hell.
Macnair sent a curse at Hagrid, and Harry, with a wave of his wand, sent the executioner flying through a wall, chased by shards of fiery glass. George and Lee Jordan were tangling with Yaxley, and Harry tumbled the Death Eater to the floor with Sectumsempra across his chest. A Death Eater that Harry didn't know tried to curse Neville, and Harry managed to get a shield charm in the way before Ron and Neville both took the man down.
Mrs Weasley, her hair wild and her dress torn and stained with blood, wasn't using her left arm at all as she cast furiously, defending Ginny from the elder Mulciber.
Even though Harry knew he shouldn’t, he cast a cutting spell on his upper left arm and dug out a healing potion, dodging all the while. Popping open a few of the healing potions still in his body, he darted over to Mrs Weasley. "Take this!" He opened the healing potion a tiny amount and thrust it into her hand. "It's a healing potion!"
Exhausted, her face pale from the blood loss and pain, she gave him her thanks and popped it in her mouth. Tonks and Aberforth appeared, Tonks casting the spell that took Mulciber down. A burst of green light flashed in the corner of Harry's eye, but it was too late for him to do anything but watch helplessly as Tonks fell, killed by Dolohov.
Ginny, Mrs Weasley, Aberforth and Harry turned on the Death Eater and he ran. Harry, not caring that the healing potions hadn't finished making their way through his blood stream, gave chase, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Dolohov cast curse after curse at Harry over his shoulder as he ran. Wishing he had his glasses, Harry tried to get as close as he could to get a clear shot, but, without any shoes to protect his feet, the debris on the floor pierced through his skin and slowed him considerably. Dolohov led him on a twisted path through the castle, farther and farther away from the main battle, but Harry didn't care. He'd finish the rest of the Death Eaters off later. Dolohov needed to die for what he did. Now.
Suddenly, the world exploded. A huge bang ripped away Harry's hearing, and dust and falling stone filled his eyes until there was just him in darkness.
For a moment, there was nothing and he thought that surely he must've had the sensory deprivation spell cast on him, but pain danced throughout his body and pounded in his head. Harry blinked open his eyes and the cotton filling in his head cleared somewhat. Stone met his gaze and when he glanced from side to side, all he could see was stone. It appeared that he was trapped in a small tunnel only slightly larger than he was. Coughing, trying to shake away the cloudiness that still plagued him, Harry twisted his head around until he spotted a small sliver of light through cracks in the stones on the left.
"Potter was here," said a rough voice, hazy through Harry’s still ringing ears. "Help me find him."
"Don't bother," said the other and Harry could imagine the smirk on the lips. "Just pour this around and we'll light the whole thing on fire. When - or if - he comes out, we'll get him."
Harry kicked up his legs to move and slammed them into stone along with his head, sending a flash of pain behind his eyes. His right arm refused to move and, for the first time, Harry realised why. It was pinned in a small break in the stones. His whole forearm was nothing but pain and he couldn't move his fingers. He had no idea if he had his wand or not.
" Accio wand!" It struck his fingers, but he couldn’t move them enough to grasp it and it fell, clattering against stone.
The smell of smoke ignited the flames in his belly and fear clawed at his insides, even as he reminded himself that he'd trained for this with Snape. Placing his left hand flat against the stone crushing his arm, Harry whispered the Featherlight charm and, without a wand, tried to lift the stone.
It wouldn't budge.
He'd have to charm them all, but he couldn't charm the ones he couldn't see, the important ones that pressed down on the very top of the pile of rubble.
Heat filled the air and red and gold light burst through the cracks. The smoke thickened, making it impossible to see where one stone began and the next ended, but he did his best, touching every single stone he could reach, casting on all of them. It was hopeless, but he had to try, he had to fight until someone came to help him or he found a way to escape.
Smoke chased away the air and filled his lungs, causing his eyes to tear up and making him cough. He'd been prepared to die, but not like this! Any way but this!
"Snape," he choked as the flames crept up on his feet, singeing the soles. He needed Snape, he couldn't do it on his own.
No, that wasn't true. Snape had prepared him for a possible situation such as this. What he needed was to think like Snape: quick, clever, and methodical. How would Snape escape this? He'd stay calm and think.Grabbing his right arm with his left, Harry cast Brackium Emendo on himself, concentrating hard on the outcome Lockhart had achieved with the spell. Some of the pain in his hand eased and, with care, he was able to pull his boneless, mangled mess of an arm out from between the stones and shove it down the tunic, using a sticking charm to attach it to his side so that it wouldn't flop around while he was fighting.
With his left hand, he Summoned his wand and cast a Bubblehead charm on himself. Another charm blocked the flames rushing at his feet. Rolling over onto his stomach, he gripped his wand with his left hand and blasted through the boulders with a spell he hadn’t dared try wandlessly: "Ruptum Petras!" He cast a shield charm immediately after and tensed, ready to roll out of the way of any Killing Curses, but the Dolohov and his Death Eater companion had spent themselves, for their curses bounced off his shield. Lowering the shield just long enough to cast Sectumsempra, he watched as they both fell before he toppled the other wall on top of them.
Using his right elbow, and casting Aguamenti in a fruitless attempt to put out the fire, Harry clawed his way out of the wreckage of the tunnel as best he could with only a left arm. As fast as he could when running through rubble, he raced back to the Great Hall, to the turmoil as the battle still raged on.
Lucius Malfoy.
The Death Eater was just a few handspans away from him, battling both Remus and Flitwick. Even though both wizards were challenging him skilfully, Malfoy's wand was already casting, "Avada Kedavra". The words spilled like venom from his lips as the spell came straight at Harry.
"NO!"
Before Harry had a chance to react, a streak of brown flew between him and the Killing Curse.
Remus!
Malfoy forgotten, Harry flew to Remus's side. It was too late. Remus's eyes had lost their shine; the kindness, the warmth were replaced with a cloudy, dark film. A cold stillness fell over Harry. This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to save them!
Malfoy laughed and Harry glanced up just in time to see a jet of green light sink into Lucius's chest. Icy blue eyes widened in realisation before he tumbled to the floor.
Another spell raced towards Harry and he jumped to his feet, reluctantly leaving Remus as he whirled to face his newest attacker. On and on the battle raged, a few of the Death Eaters giving up and turning themselves in, but most of them fighting as long as they could or fleeing out of the Hall, onto the castle grounds.
Harry continued to cast spells and evade them, all the while jumping over the dead bodies of friends and foes alike. Screams and yells blurred into bone-rattling white noise. Time crawled on and Harry couldn't tell whether five minutes or five hours had passed since he had killed Tom.
It wasn't until after they'd chased away the giants and the rest of the Dementors that Harry stopped his hunt for Death Eaters and started searching for Snape. Exhausted as Harry was, he wasn't about to give up hope of finding Snape alive. He crisscrossed the castle grounds and even part of the Forbidden Forest looking for any form that could remotely resemble Snape's. With the light fading and running out of ideas about were to look, Harry headed back to the castle. He raced through Hogwarts shouting Snape's name and shrugged off all hands that tried to stop him in his search. Not even the house-elves knew where Snape was. As he stared around the empty potions lab, Harry realised he couldn't find Snape without serious help. Meeting Ron and Hermione at the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry pleaded, "Help me find Snape. Or Narcissa or Draco." They'd know where Voldemort had attempted to kill Snape.
"They've found him," said Hermione, her cheeks glistening wet with tears.
"Where?" asked Harry, glancing around the room. Why hadn't Snape come to him?
His eyes tired, Ron said, "His body is with the others in the Great Hall."
NO!
Harry ran.
"Harry!" Hermione called.
Harry ignored her, racing into the Great Hall, darting down the rows of tables lined up against the walls where the dead were being laid out. Tonks. Remus. Fred. Colin Creevey. No.
He couldn't take it. No.
He tore past the tables, past everyone who'd come to aid him. Snape was nowhere to be found. Harry's momentary elation was quickly squashed by the realisation that he'd not yet checked the Death Eater side of the room.
His heart pounding in his ears, his legs feeling as though they would give out any second, Harry stumbled to Snape's side, his stomach twisting into tight knots.
The lank, greasy hair hung limp around the sallow face. His sharp black eyes were closed and his face oddly relaxed - more so than Harry had ever seen it before. His neck had been ripped open, the blood black around the edges of the wound.
"I need a Healer!" Harry yelled as he used his wand to rip off the bottom of his tunic, wishing desperately that he knew more healing spells and that both of his hands were working. Turning his attention back to Snape, Harry told him, "You can't die on me!"
He wrapped Snape's neck in the cloth, then yelled to the hall, "I NEED A HEALER! WHERE THE FUCK IS A HEALER?!"
If only he knew which of the bumps in Snape's arm was a healing potion!
A Healer hurried over. "What's wrong?" he asked, his wand out and ready.
"You have to help him!" Harry gently opened his makeshift bandage, showing him the wound on Snape's neck. "He needs healing and blood replenishing potions."
Hermione and Ron hustled over, both panting, as the Healer waved his wand over Snape's neck, his face growing tighter and tighter by the second.
"He's dead," he said, lowering his wand.
"No," argued Harry. "He has this potion- You have to help him!"
Hermione placed her hand on Harry's arm. "Come on, Harry," she said as if he were an infant having a tantrum. "There's nothing more you can do."
"He's not dead!" Harry shouted, jerking his arm away from Hermione's hand. Why wouldn't any of them listen? "You have to help him! He needs to be healed!"
Shaking his head, the Healer turned away.
Jumping to his feet, Harry darted forward, snatched the Healer's bag, and dumped the contents to the floor. Dropping to his knees, he searched through the mess, trying to find the healing and blood replenishing potions.
He couldn't find them fast enough and Snape was dying.
With nothing else to do, Harry aimed his wand at his right artery and cast a cutting spell. Ignoring the pain, he dug his fingers into his flesh, trying to find and pull out the capsule of healing potion hidden within his body.
Ron was shouting his name, Hermione was screaming, the pain in his arm blinding, but he didn't care. Ripping out the capsule, he popped it open with his mouth and thrust it into Snape's wound.
He'd just cast the cutting spell on his right thigh when strong hands grabbed him, forcing him to the floor. He fought them as best he could, yelling for Snape to be healed, but there were too many of them, and the blood loss was leaving him dizzy.
They poured some potion into his wound, but rather than a healing potion, it was a sedative. He battled it as best he could, but it quickly stripped his consciousness away. Grabbing Hermione's arm, Harry gasped, "Help him. Help him," as he faded into darkness.
~
Harry woke to the bright lights of St Mungo's and Ginny holding his normal-looking right arm.
"Hullo," she said, smiling softly, her eyes red and rimmed in tears. "Feeling better?"
How had his arm been mended so quickly? Apparently noticing the focus of his gaze, Ginny said, "You were unconscious for nearly fourteen hours."
He ached everywhere and his tongue felt like sandpaper, but he managed to rasp out, "Snape."
The corners of Ginny's mouth pulled up in a sad smile. "The funeral's today," she said softly.
"He's not dead."
Ginny left the chair and slid over to lie on the bed beside Harry. "Harry, please. I need you to be completely honest with me. No matter what you tell me, I'll still love you. I'll still want to be with you. Can you be honest with me? Completely honest if I ask a question?"
His heart filled with ice, he said, "What is it?"
Taking a deep breath, her brown eyes never leaving his, she said, "I know you say you were in that prison for months and I don't doubt you. The papers said that, but they also said a lot of things that we weren't sure we could believe. Oh, Harry!" She clutched his hand. "Did Snape rape you? Please." She squeezed his hand. "I won't think differently of you if he did."
She knew. She knew. How had she guessed? What did the papers say? They didn't have pictures, did they? His stomach roiled and he thought he was going to be sick. He could never tell her the truth. Despite what she’d said, he knew she'd think differently. Who would respect a bloke who got raped? His throat dry, Harry said, "No."
Ginny bit her lip, her features twisting. She didn't believe him. She knew he was lying. Fuck! What could he say to convince her?
She spoke before he did. "It's just-" she said, her eyes darting over his face. "The papers said you were made into a sex slave. I didn't believe it. But . . . when we had sex.... And the Healer said that there were-" Her face screwed up tightly and she had to blurt the words out. "There were signs of anal penetration!"
He'd fucked things up so badly. He'd been so terrible at sex, she'd known. He wanted to sink into the covers and never emerge. With no defence or escape route, he had to admit, "We had sex."
Her eyebrows still tightly knit, she nodded.
He had to admit to some of it, but he couldn't admit to all of it. Looking at Ginny's shirt rather than her, he said, "But it wasn't rape. There was this Death Eater - Avery - who wanted to rape me and I- I beat the shit out of him. He hated me. He hated Snape. Snape was worried about what he'd try to do, especially since he was demanding to be my guard. Snape decided to 'claim' me. I agreed because I wouldn't have to worry about harassment. But- I consented! Snape was careful not to hurt me. He didn't want to. He hated having sex with me. He only did it because it was the only way to keep those bastards away. I would've roughed up anyone who tried anything with me - just like I did Avery. Snape couldn't afford to Obliviate all of them, and he didn't want to see me tortured because I beat up a Death Eater. Our cover would've been blown. We both hated it. It was terrible. But we had no choice." Harry plucked at the sheet then added, "Snape later killed Avery, when Avery suspected Snape and I were planning to destroy Voldemort."
Finally meeting her eyes, Harry said, "I'm so sorry, Ginny. I wanted to wait to be with you. I wouldn't have done it if-"
"It's okay," she interrupted. "I understand. Just as long as he didn't force you. I'd never forgive him if he had."
"No, never." Even if he could stand to let her know, how could he explain it without looking mental? He'd fallen in love with his rapist. Tom had been right, he was fucked up. They'd lock him away in St Mungo's if they knew the truth.
"It's all over now," she said, reassuringly. "Most of the Death Eaters were killed in the battle. They're interrogating the remaining ones now." Ginny sat up. "Let's see if you can leave. I think it would be good for you to attend Snape's funeral. I know, I know, you don't think he's dead. We had them run all the diagnostic spells on him, Harry. He's not using a potion. I'm afraid he's gone."
Snape wasn't dead. Of course they wouldn't find a potion - the Potions Master was far too good for them to trace his steps. Knowing Snape, he probably had something even better than the Draught of Living Death. However, if Harry argued that, they'd lock him up. Besides, Snape needed his wand back. Harry let Ginny call a Mediwizard over and signed the necessary papers.
At the Burrow, Mrs Weasley found Harry some black robes. He couldn't stand to look at her - not when she was carrying a tissue and constantly dabbing at her eyes. He knew from experience that the worst part of death wasn't the instant of death. It normally came later, sneaking up on you when you least expected it. On Harry's birthday after Sirius's death, he had been antsy all day and he couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until he was lying in bed, trying to sleep, that he realised why. He was waiting for Sirius's letter. The birthday greeting that would never come. Not this year or ever again.
The Burrow was already a sombre place, but it would be even worse at Christmas when there'd be one less pile of presents, one less occupied chair at the table, and memories of Fred everywhere, infusing what had once been a happy holiday with insurmountable grief. Already, Harry couldn't look at George without feeling that he'd been cleaved in two.
He just wanted to get away. To leave the gravity of heartache behind. It took far too long for them to leave and travel to the graveyard.
Snape's funeral wasn't the only one held that day. His was a small, dismal affair attended only by Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and a few Aurors, who were there as guards. What they were guarding, Harry didn't know.
Speeches seemed pointless, so Harry simply marched over, pushed open the coffin lid, and touched Snape's hand. "I'm keeping your wand. You can get it when you come back."
They buried him in a simple grave. If Harry had believed that Snape would remain there permanently, he would've demanded something better - something worthy of a hero.
Hermione hugged him and offered words of comfort. Ron stood grimly, staring at the grave. Somehow, it all seemed surreal. Hadn't they won? Weren't they the victors? They should be celebrating - not attending funeral after funeral.
The next few days passed in a blur. It wasn't until four days later, when Harry finally returned to Grimmauld Place and found Kreacher, that things changed.