He had tracked him for six months now. And, if he was true to himself, fruitlessly. The fact of the matter was, Severus Snape was as slippery as he had ever been, and if he set his mind on avoiding detection, it seemed unlikely he would ever be found.
The only thing that kept Harry going was that memory of the night on the Astronomy tower. He would never, ever forget. Death had come to a man who had never deserved itâ”and now, if Harry had his way, death would find someone who did.
Hermione had visited him the day before.
âHarry, please donât do this.â
He sighed, without turning round from where he worked at a little desk in his bedroom at the Burrow. She had said the same thing for the last three months now, when he had first made his intentions known, once the funerals were over and reconstruction was safely underway; once the Death Eaters and their followers had been rounded upâ”save one.
âHermione, Iâve got to.â He resumed his tedious measurements of the map he was making.
She laid a warm hand on his shoulder. âHarry, donât you see? You havenât âgot toâ do anything! You did all anyone would ever ask of youâ”no, moreâ”and now itâs over, Harry. You donât have to fight anymore. The Aurors will find him. Itâs timeâ”well, itâs time to rest.â
Harry stiffened under her touch. Annoyance became tinged with anger. Did she think this mission of his was for heroics? That he wanted more fame than was already his, and already unwanted?
âHermione, itâs got to be me.â He said it with such finality she recoiled slightly. Finally he turned in his chair to face her. âHe murdered Dumbledore. I saw it. And when you see something like that, you donât forget it easily.â
âIâm not sayingâ”â He held up a hand to stop her.
âHe killed my parents. He told Voldemort the prophecy. Otherwise they might have been left alone. He taunted Sirius and made him reckless.â Again she began to speak but he ploughed onwards. âI donât care what Dumbledore said, I know the truth. He was like that voice in the back of your head which tells you all the things youâre already thinking, but makes them worse, makes them more realâŚall because of a stupid school grudge! Everything that has gone wrong in my life can be blamed on Severus Snape.â
âOh, HarryâŚâ She didnât know what to say.
âThereâs unfinished business between us. And I want to be the one to finish it. I want to.â
âBut Harry, think about us! We wonât know where you are, if youâre injured or worse⌠What if you die? How can you put yourself in that kind of danger, just after weâve all been through that much? Donât you know how precious life is?â
That stung him like nothing else. âOf course I do, Hermione,â he said quietly.
It had been a low blow and she had enough dignity to look ashamed. âOf courseâŚâ she said gently, and then, âIâm sorry, Harry.â
âSâokay.â He shrugged and turned away, wounds still raw from the Battle of Hogwarts. So many dead, so many families torn apartâŚ
âHarryâŚâ He looked up at the sound of her voice: now it was tinged with a sort of fierce determination. She had that blazing look on her face he had so often seen on Ginny. âWeâre coming with you. Ron and I, that is.â She shook her head to show him she wasnât done with her say. âWeâve already discussed this. We know you well enough to know you wonât change your plans, but we want to keep you safe nonetheless. Weâve had opportunity to turn back, you know? But weâre still here, and thatâs not going to change. Where you go, weâll follow.â
Harry opened his mouth to speak. Hermione crossed her arms, the picture of stubbornness, and rolled her eyes in what was clearly meant to say, here it comes.
âI donât want you to come.â He held up a hand to stop her from butting in. âBut not for the reason you think, not mainly. I mean, of course I care about you, I donât want anythingâ”couldnât live with myself if it didâ”to happen to you. But itâs personal Hermione, donât you see? There is a score to settle, and I will be the only one to settle it.â
Hermione sighed. She knew that look all too well. The green eyes were walled off in decision; the mouth set in a firm, straight line; nose upturned mulishly. He was like a boulder, and would never budge.
Hermione stepped forward and lay a light kiss on his cheek. âGood luck, Harry,â she whispered, wondering if they were to be her last words to her friend.
~*~
He breathed in as quietly, noiselessly as he could. The dawn was breaking over the dusty mountains in the distance, casting a rosy glow on the lake before him. Strange; he had as much time as he wanted, now, and yet could never pause for a secondâs rest. Strange; life was so breathtaking in the daily miracles it offeredâ”and yet so short.
The tea was drunk quietly in front of the smouldering embers of last nightâs fire. He gripped the warm cup tightly, shivering in his thin cloak. Severus had always cherished the morning. It was a restful time when he could feel like the only one in the world. Nothing was truly awake, or set; everything was more in their state of absolute being, what they really were beneath all the lies. With the first rays of sunlight on the horizon came expectations, and pretences; false smiles and friends and confidences. With the day came danger and loss.
Silently Severus stood, swirling the last dregs of tea round in his cup before drinking them too. A quick glance upwards and he had gauged the light in the sky: time to move on, and leave no trace of his stay. With the deftness of an old task, the fire was covered with some gravely sediment, the tent was collapsed in a few quick strokes, the bedroll tightly packed in its case, and the whole of his possessions, which were little more than a Muggle camping stove, a knife, and a water pump, were stuffed into his rucksack.
At the slight physical exertion his stomach moaned in protest. It had received very ill treatment in the last half-year. Wild mushrooms, too few to be satisfying, for dinner; a mug of lukewarm tea for breakfast, and little else the weeks previously. Normally he could have magically procured a decent meal for himself. Then again, normally he wouldnât have had the entire Ministry of Magic on his heels, the Trace thick upon him.
Severus didnât know what would become of him. Perhaps he would waste awayâ”as, he realised, he must already be doingâ”and eventually starve to death. He could think of worse fates. And really, what was left for him on Earth? He had no friends or obligations, and had accomplished his last mission: keep Lilyâs son safe. Maybe now both of themâ”himself and herâ”could rest at ease. He was a free man.
True, the Wizarding world despised him and was tracking him even now; but then, after all this time, he should be used to being called a coward and a traitor.
Who knew what the future might bring for Severus Snape? All he could do in this moment was appreciate this sunrise, distinct from all the sunrises that had ever bloomed in the sky since the worldâs conception. The red glow in the distance reminded him of red hair, and red cheeks, and red lips, and things he should have forgotten. Some things should have been laid to rest. But, like the red-hued sky, they blossomed day after day after day in his otherwise colourless mind.