Vater

Harry woke up with an intense pain in his arm. He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the blurred world around him, trying to decipher where he was. The place felt unfamiliar. He automatically reached out for his glasses and knocked over something.

"Do try to refrain from your usual messiness, Potter. I do not appreciate having my dwelling ruined," came a snide voice that could belong to but one man in the world.

He shot up into a sitting position, full of anger and hate.

"Where are my friends?" he asked coldly. "I swear, if you harm them in any way-"

"I have no intention of harming either of your friends," said Snape, his voice as smooth as ever. "Or you, for that matter."

"Where are they?"

"If you would care to look around, you would know."

"I can't see without my glasses!"

"Then why don't you ask for them? Politely, if I might add." Harry could almost hear Snape's smirk, even though his face was rather blurred.

"May I have my glasses back, please, sir?" Harry spat.

Snape handed them to him. Harry put them on and looked around. Ron was on a couch. His shirt had been taken off and his torso was bandaged around the waist. He appeared asleep. Hermione was on another couch. Her head was swathed in bandages and so was one of her legs.

He looked down at his own arm, which was also bandaged.

"You did this?" he asked quietly, looking Snape straight in the eye.

Snape gave a curt nod and turned away. Harry fought with himself and finally managed to utter two words.

"Thank you."

There was complete silence for a long time.

"What are you doing here?" Snape asked finally.

"I wanted to see you," he lied quickly. "Ron and Hermione decided to come with me in case you tried something, or had some Death Eaters around. You were not here when we came, so we went looking around the neighbourhood. We were attacked."

"By?"

"I don't know." Harry kept his mind as blank as he could, but to his surprise and relief, Snape did not try to enter his mind. Instead, he reached into his pocket and took out a jar of purple cream.

"Apply this thrice a day for the next three days on your arm."

Harry blinked.

"What is wrong with my arm?"

"Do you remember the Headmaster's hand? If I had been late by a quarter of an hour, your arm would have been worse."

Harry gasped. He saw Dumbledore's withered hand clearly in his head...

"You know how to cure this? Why didn't you help Dumbledore, then?" he asked angrily.

A pained expression passed the pallid, harsh face before Snape gave him a scathing look.

"What I do and don't is none of your concern, Potter," he said coldly. "I do not owe you any explanations."

"Yes, you do! YOU ARE THE REASON BEHIND EVERYTHING EVIL THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME!"

Snape snarled in rage; his face was very white. But he did not say anything. His silence only fuelled Harry's anger.

"I HATE YOU! YOU'RE A PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A MAN! YOU'RE A MURDERER! YOU'RE A TRAITOR! YOU KILLED THE MAN WHO SAVED YOU FROM AZKABAN, THE MAN WHO TRUSTED YOU TILL HIS DYING BREATH! AND TO SAVE YOUR OWN SORRY LIFE! YOU DESERVE TO BE KILLED SLOWLY AND AS PAINFULLY AS POSSIBLE!"

Harry was on his feet and had his wand pointed at Snape's chest by now.

"Crucio," he said softly.

"Harry, no!" came a weak shout. Harry dropped his wand-arm and turned around to see a horrified looking and wide-eyed Hermione limping towards him. Ron was stirring as well.

"Have you gone mad?" she cried. "He's your father! And he just helped all of us!"

Harry had the grace to blush, but he was still angry. He looked away.

"Are you strong enough to Apparate? I could take Ron with me," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"Yes, but you owe an apology to Professor Snape first."

"No."

"Yes."

"NO!"

"Is this how you repay someone who saved you and your friends?"

"He killed Dumbledore!"

"Harry, you know precisely why he did that. Dumbledore asked him to!"

"But he always had the choice, didn't he? He could have broken the Vow! I would have!"

Hermione's reply was cut off by Snape, who had stood impassive till then, falling to his knees. She looked at him and then at Harry, horror written all over her face.

"You did not end the curse?" she whispered.

Harry shook his head, suddenly afraid.

"It never works," he said urgently. "I didn't think-"

"End it. NOW!" Hermione screamed.

Harry obeyed wordlessly. They both helped Snape to the couch Harry had occupied until a while back.

"I'm sorry!" Harry cried desperately. "I didn't realize it would actually work!"

Snape's eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow by now.

Hermione took out a little vial from her pocket and poured it down her former Professor's throat. Colour returned to his cheeks immediately, and his breathing regularized.

"He's on our side, you idiot," Hermione told Harry bitingly. "You have to get over your prejudices if you want to win this war."

"Not much chance, is there?" Harry replied dryly.

Snape opened his eyes and glared at Harry.

"You arrogant, self-centred bastard!" he hissed. "You're just like that dastardly father of yours!"

"I'd rather be James Potter's splitting image than yours!" Harry shot back hotly, ignoring Hermione's restraining hand on his arm.

"Did you assume Potter?" Snape smiled cruelly. "I was referring to your real father. Potter never had courage for the Dark."

Harry glared at him.

"I would rather die than accept your patrimony," he said coldly.

"Do you think I would ever offer it to you? I would rather die heirless and childless than have you as a son." Snape sounded disgusted.

"Stop, please..." Hermione pleaded. She tugged at Harry's arm. "You go. I'll bring Ron."

Harry nodded and walked away.

"I'm sorry on his behalf, Professor," Hermione said.

"Take that jar of cream with you. His arm needs it thrice a day for three days."

"Thank you, Professor."

Snape turned away. Hermione hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "He'll come around soon, Professor. It's just that he is so angry about Professor Dumbledore's death and Voldemort hanging over his head...he needs a family, too, Professor. He has never had any. Sirius was taken from him too soon...and then, when he got close to Dumbledore, he too, died...even if he doesn't admit it himself yet, he wants a family, a father...even if it is you. He needs you. He always has. You have been looking out for him since he entered Hogwarts...sooner or later he is going to put that over his dislike for you. What hurts him most is that he trusted you, even if he didn't like you, and it was a shock for him to see you kill Dumbledore. It will be some time before he gets over that."

Snape looked startled.

"What do you mean, he saw me?"

"He was there. He was with Dumbledore that evening. He was under the invisibility cloak, and Dumbledore had immobilized him when Malfoy came in. That is what caused Dumbledore to lose his wand to Malfoy."

Snape's face seemed to have lost all colour. Hermione thought he might faint. When he spoke after a long pause, though, his voice seemed as steely as ever.

"What makes you think I would want to have him?"

"You need him just as much as he needs you, Professor."

"In brief, not at all. The Chosen One does not need a Death Eater."

"You're not a Death Eater," Hermione said quickly, then seeing the look on Snape's face, added, "not a real one, anyway."

Snape smiled bitterly.

"I assure you, Granger, that I am a very real Death Eater. The Dark Lord does not recruit individuals who are not loyal to him."

"You worked for Dumbledore!"

"How do you know that? I killed him."

"Because he asked you to!"

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"He told us."

"Who?"

"Dumbledore. His portrait, rather. We visited Hogwarts a few days back."

Snape fell silent. Hermione walked to Ron and performed a feather-weight charm on him.

"Does he know that I was the Death Eater who overheard the prophecy? Do you?" Snape asked softly.

Hermione nodded.

Snape appeared surprised.

"I still hate him," he muttered.

Hermione smiled.

"That's what he says, too. You're not that different after all." She grabbed Ron and ran out as fast as she could. The moment she stepped out of the house, she Disapparated.