A Reflection of Himself

A few minutes later, Harry found himself standing next to a bed in Hogwarts' infirmary. Most of the people had suffered only minor injuries, but Remus Lupin had taken quite a blow. Harry's initial reaction was to think the worst.

He can't be dead... He can't be dead... He can't be dead... he kept repeating to himself over and over again, hoping that it would change what he had seen on that battlefield.

When Dumbledore had levitated Lupin's crumpled form and reached for the younger man's bloodied hand and apparated back to the outskirts of Hogwarts' grounds, Harry wasn't sure what to think. His friends and he had been instructed to take a portkey that the Headmaster had made out of one of his shoes, and as Harry appeared and saw Dumbledore levitating Lupin toward the castle, Harry followed warily, feeling drained and broken.

This just couldn't be.

Now, Harry had taken a seat next to the bed where Lupin now lay, and for the first time, Harry noticed that his chest was still moving, although slowly, up and down. He was breathing. He was alive.

Something jolted inside Harry as he started toward the bed, but Dumbledore came to stand beside Harry and gently pushed his hand back.

"No, Harry," he said gently.

"But... but, sir, he's... he's alive," Harry stammered.

"Yes, he is... just barely," Dumbledore confirmed, but there was an emptiness in those usually blue, alive eyes.

Harry's eyes drifted to Lupin as the man continued to lay there, any sign of life barely visible. He didn't notice who else was in the room, but a few feet away, all of his closest friends were there, looking on with desperation. Before Harry could say anything, though, Madame Pomfrey came bustling toward the bed.

"Move, move out of the way," she ordered them, her eyes kept on Lupin.

"Will you be able to heal him, Madame Pomfrey?" Harry questioned anxiously, her heart practically leaping out of his chest.

She skillfully examined the main wound and declared, shaking her head, "At least Albus was able to stop the bleeding before he lost any more blood. I can repair the tissue damage easily enough, but I fear to say that when the silver came in contact with his blood, the substance had already infiltrated his bloodstream within seconds. Had it been any closer to the full moon, he probably would have died right then and there... but a week still remains before the moon is completely full, but..."

Madame Pomfrey stopped speaking abruptly and focused her attention on healing the wound in Lupin's side. The anxiety was too much for Harry to bear. What wasn't she telling them?

"But what?" Harry insisted, coming closer to Madame Pomfrey's side. Dumbledore tried to restrain Harry, but he resisted and inched closer, persistently asking, "But what?"

"Please, Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey stated firmly. "I need silence so I can concentrate."

Angry and annoyed, Harry glared at her but kept quiet, wanting to make sure that she had all the concentration she said she needed to properly heal the wound. After a few very long minutes, Madame Pomfrey withdrew her wand from Lupin's side and said tiredly, "He's healed for now."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Harry questioned desperately, but the looks on both Madame Pomfrey's and Dumbledore's faces betrayed something dire that they weren't saying.

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, "please sit down and relax for a moment."

"I don't wanna sit down!" Harry yelled. "I want to know if Remus is going to be okay!"

Sighing heavily, Dumbledore regarded Harry wearily. He appeared very old and very worn.

"Harry," Dumbledore whispered, trying to keep his wrinkled face impassive, "because Remus was in his human form, the damage was not as bad as it would have been had he been in his werewolf form or closer to taking on or shedding that form. As Madame Pomfrey said, he would have died nearly instantly had the moon been full. Unfortunately, he is still a werewolf, no matter what the stage of the moon. The lycanthropy has been plaguing his body for most of his life. A man who is cursed with this condition, no matter what, cannot live for long once his blood has come in contact with silver. I'm afraid that his dying will only be delayed... and more painful. When the full moon comes, he will die."

Harry stopped breathing for a moment. Knowing that his friend, his mentor, his professor was going to die a slow and agonizing death made Harry feel like another part of himself had died as well.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry croaked, while regarding Dumbledore with blurred vision, "So you're saying... you're saying that, no matter what, he's damned to die. That's it? We all just have to watch him live out his last few days in horrible pain, lying on a bed, wondering when his last breath will come?"

Harry's questions lingered in the air all around him, for everyone else who was present to have heard Dumbledore's words was filled with the same disbelief and grief. Hermione choked back a sob in the background, and Mrs. Weasley hugged Ginny closer as her daughter began to cry. Ron looked on, eyes large and mouth gaping open, and placed his arm around Hermione in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"I am sorry, Harry," Dumbledore whispered sadly, "but there is nothing we can do."

"Don't you say that!" Harry bellowed. "Don't you dare say that! How can you, the most powerful wizard in of the age, just give up?!"

"Mr. Potter!" Madame Pomfrey gasped, shocked by Harry's outrage.

Just as it had been at the end of Harry's fifth year, he felt betrayed by everything and everyone he had trusted. His own guilt, knowing that if he hadn't foolishly left Hogwarts to have a damned picnic, consumed him. He knew it was his fault... yet again. He had brought this upon himself, but Harry stared around the infirmary, not wanting to accept any of it. Fate had dealt him the hardest deck to play, for it seemed that fate, or whatever the hell it was, was determined to take everyone away from Harry... everyone who he loved and who loved him.

"Come, Harry," Dumbledore said, reaching for Harry's shoulder, but Harry flinched and jerked away.

"Don't touch me!" he cried. "Fine! I get it, all right? There's nothing that can be done... nothing!"

No one said a word.

"Someone should tell Sirius," Harry choked, looking around the room in defeat. "I... I'll do it."

Then, a low voice that Harry barely could hear came from near the doorway.

"There might be a way to save him."

Harry stopped moving, thinking for sure that his ears had to be playing a terrible trick on him, and then his eyes had joined in on the mocking fun when they saw Snape step into the room fully.

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "What are you saying?"

"There... might be a way," Snape murmured, clearly uncomfortable with so many eyes on him as he walked toward Dumbledore.

"I see," Dumbledore replied, looking at Snape levelly, awaiting Snape's idea.

"I had not told anyone, but over the past few months, when I have had time to do private research, I have been working on improving the Wolfsbane Potion. I realize that in its current state that it simply lessens the pain of the transformation and allows Lupin to keep his mind unaffected during his altered state, but with a strong enough potion, perhaps the transformation could be obliterated all together. I must warn you, though, that it hasn't yet been tested. It... may not work," Snape murmured, eyeing Lupin carefully.

Then, there was a stir from the bed. Lupin's eyes opened slightly, and he replied in a dry, raspy voice, "Let him try."

Dumbledore nodded firmly and said to Snape, "Very well, then, Severus. It is worth a try."

Snape nodded curtly and left the infirmary without another word, and Harry watched, at a loss for words, as Snape's retreating form walked out the door. A small glimmer of hope sparked alive within Harry's heart. Looking at Dumbledore, he asked, "Can I talk to Remus for a moment?"

"Yes, Harry, but not too long."

Harry nodded and approached Lupin's bed. Lupin turned his head slowly and smiled weakly at Harry.

"Harry," he simply said. "How are you?"

"Remus," Harry uttered shakily, "you... you can't die."

"Oh, Harry, don't speak like that. There is still hope. Didn't you hear?"

"Yes," Harry said in a very small voice, "but what if it doesn't work?"

"Then let us treasure the time we have left," Lupin replied.

Harry nodded absently, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to get his hopes up too much, and seeing Lupin like this was becoming too much for him to bear.

"I can bring Sirius up here," Harry offered.

"That would be great, Harry," Lupin continud in the same weak voice he had been using. Coughing, he winced in pain as he closed his eyes.

"I think that will be enough for now," Dumbledore interjected mildly. "You need to rest, Remus. Poppy," he addressed Madame Pomfrey, "you'll let me know if there are any changes?"

"Of course, Headmaster," the mediwitch nodded.

"Wonderful," Dumbledore replied, smiling slightly. As Dumbledore made his way out of the infirmary, he ushered the others out as well. Harry followed them a few paces behind, not really wanting to speak with anyone at the moment. He heard Dumbledore's voice echoing through the corridor as the Headmaster informed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that he would be speaking privately with the students who had become Death Eaters.

Finally, Harry came to the junction where he made his turn and continued down the empty hall alone. Just a couple of hours ago, he had been outside enjoying the beautiful day with Ginny, but now, things had completely changed. Harry angrily wondered how and why Dumbledore even allowed the Death Eater students to return to Hogwarts, even though the Headmaster had murmured something about keeping them confined within the Slytherin chambers. Harry shoved the thought of Draco Malfoy out of his mind for the time being, for he knew if he dwelled in his enemy too much, he would only drive himself mad.

Eventually, Harry came to Lupin's office. Oddly, the door was slightly open. The room sat dark within, however, so as Harry took a step into the room, he muttered, "Lumos," and proceeded toward Sirius's portrait.

The light from the end of Harry's wand illuminating Sirius's face, Sirius exclaimed, "Harry! What's happened? The last thing I knew, Remus was running out of his office, saying something about Voldemort and you."

"I'm all right," Harry replied grimly, "but... Remus isn't."

Sirius's face became etched with worry as he questioned, "What? What d'you mean, Harry? What's happened to him?"

Harry's face twisted with fury as he said between clenched teeth, "That miserable rat... he... he nearly killed him, Sirius! And if Snape can't help Remus, then no one can!"

"WHAT?!" Sirius bellowed. "Harry, you must take me to Remus at once... I need to see him, now!"

"That's what I came here for," Harry replied, clearly frustrated and growing irritated. He removed Sirius's portrait from the wall and shrunk it down in size so it would be easier to carry.

As Harry made his way back to the infirmary with Sirius, Harry explained everything to his godfather, from Wormtail's violent assault on Lupin to Snape's attempt at an improved Wolfsbane Potion. When Harry arrived in the infirmary, Lupin was asleep yet again, and as Harry placed Sirius's picture on a chair next to Lupin's bed, both Harry and he looked on with nothing but concern and compassion for their good friend.

"All I can say," Sirius growled, "if that he had better be alive and well in a few days. If I were able to get out of this portrait and walk, make no mistake, Harry, that I would hunt down that good-for-nothing traitor, Peter, and I would personally make sure that his life is ended."

"I just hope Snape is able to cure him," Harry remarked quietly.

"I hate to say this, Harry," Sirius muttered bitterly, "but if that git actually manages to save his life, even I'll thank him."

At this, Harry couldn't help but to smile slightly at the prospective irony of the situation. Snape, who had nearly been killed by Sirius's prank involving an unaware, uncontrollable Lupin, was now the only one who could save Lupin.

Draco sat in Dumbledore's office, torn between fear and hatred, as he glared at the old wizard who sat across from him.

"I assume you know why you are here, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore stated evenly.

Draco wanted to sneer and retort, "Of course I know why I'm here, you old codger!" Instead, Draco merely muttered, "Yes, sir."

"Very well, then," Dumbledore replied gravely, his eyes appearing icy blue as they penetrated into Draco's being. Draco shifted, unnerved, in his seat. He could clearly see now why people feared Albus Dumbledore.

Draco scowled, remembering how he had been outwitted by Harry, and as he had lain on the ground in the body bind, he had witnessed his own father's death... all because the curse intended to hit Harry had hit Lucius Malfoy instead. This is all Potter's fault, Draco thought furiously.

"Would you care to voice you thoughts out loud?" Dumbledore asked.

"Wha-" Draco was clearly taken aback. "You... you can read my thoughts?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, that I can indeed. In case you didn't know, Voldemort can also read thoughts. It is the art of Legilimency. All one needs to do is look you in the eye and concentrate. For someone like him or me, who are masters at the art, we won't even need to utter the proper incantation aloud or use our wands."

"Oh," Draco said shortly, still clearly uncomfortable and even more so now that he knew he could hide nothing from the Headmaster.

"Am I correct in saying, Mr. Malfoy, that you have mixed feelings about your father's death?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes," Draco responded shortly.

"Do you care to elaborate?"

"Why bother?" Draco retorted. "If you can read my every thought, then you already know that a part of me always wanted to defy him. He always expected me to follow in his footsteps, and more often than not, I followed foolishly, never bothering to wonder why I was following him so blindly. He was still my father, though, and it's that blasted Potter's fault that he's dead!"

Rage burned in Draco's pale eyes as his clammy hands clenched tightly onto the arms of the chair on either side of him. Dumbledore, however, kept his calm composure.

"I see," the Headmaster stated.

"So what?" Draco asked sardonically. "You see. Big deal. Why don't you just send me off to Azkaban and be done with it?"

"Is that really what you want, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore shrewdly inquired. "It would seem that is the route all your friends have chosen, but you still have a choice."

"A choice?" Draco asked flatly.

"Yes, a choice," Dumbledore continued. "You can either choose Azkaban, or you can remain a student at Hogwarts. If you choose Azkaban, no doubt Voldemort will find a way to break you out as he did your father, but I warn you now. If you choose that pathway, there will be no turning back. Voldemort will use you for his own benefit, nothing else. You will be nothing but a slave to him, and if you fail him, you will suffer by his hands and at his feet. However," he paused, "there is another route. I believe that there is still hope for those who choose to believe it, including those who most people believe to be lost to the darkness forever. I allowed you and your friends to remain students at Hogwarts, even though I knew you had taken the Dark Mark, because I held out on hoping you would see the wrong of your ways. Now, I'm afraid, because of what your friends and you have done, I must be quick to ask you to make your decision. I will not harbor any student who chooses to follow Voldemort, but think carefully, Mr. Malfoy. Do you truly want to wind up like your father?"

Draco was speechless. His father was now dead. If anything, Draco was too much of a coward to want to be dead, especially prematurely. As much as Draco hated the old man who now sat in front of him, there were times throughout his life when he had hated his own father more than anyone.

"And what if I choose to stay here?" Draco asked suspiciously. "What am I to do about this?" Draco held up his left forearm and pointed at the spot where the Dark Mark was blazed onto his pale skin.

"Once you have been marked, you will always be marked, Mr. Malfoy, but you could be a spy for the side of light."

Draco considered the risk such a thing involved, and either way, he realized that he would still have to appear at Death Eater meetings and either carry out or pretend to carry out the Dark Lord's biddings. It wasn't much to look forward to.

"I don't want to be my father," Draco finally said, "but it seems that no matter what I choose, I will have to suffer."

"Then suffer you must," Dumbledore said gravely, "for you have already taken the Mark. You chose that, Mr. Malfoy, and now you must live with the consequences of that choice."

"It seems I've already lost, then," Draco muttered in defeat, looking at the floor.

"No, Draco," Dumbledore said softly, "you can still turn your life around. I am not saying it will be easy, but what is your choice? I must know."

Draco realized with a start that Dumbledore had just called him by his given name. The old fool had spoken almost gently just then, and for the first time in his life, there was someone who believed in him, that he was worth something... worth more than just a pawn or a servant or an heir to the Malfoy Estate.

Draco regarded the Headmaster of Hogwarts intently for several long moments. Finally, after careful consideration, Draco said, "I will stay at Hogwarts, and I will be a spy. Show me how, and I'll do it."

Dumbledore felt a bout of triumph flare within him and smiled.

"I am pleased to hear it, Mr. Malfoy. For now, you may return to your room. There is still much to discuss and for you to learn, but that can wait for now."

Draco nodded, stood up, and left the office without a word, but some part of Draco's embittered heart actually felt gratitude toward Dumbledore.

Meanwhile, Snape had retreated to the dungeons, where he locked himself in his private laboratory and set to work. It was true enough that he had improved the Wolfsbane Potion over the past few months, but unfortunately, all the stocks he had were now expired. He hadn't been able spend nearly as much time working on his own research as of late, and so, Snape set to the now life or death task of recreating the potion, hoping that he could work in a few more of his touches to improve it even more.

He spent the rest of the day working mercilessly over the boiling cauldron, the steam causing the humidity in the windowless room to rise considerably and making his lank hair stick unpleasantly to his skin. The fumes emitted from the potion filled the small room as well, making breathing difficult, but Snape didn't care. He kept his focus on making the potion that could potentially save Lupin's life. There was no point in worrying over what ifs right now.

Finally, after many long, agonizing hours, Snape finished brewing the Wolfsbane Potion. He bottled it into several vials, all the while ignoring fatigue and hunger. There were much more important matters to be dealt with.

Snape mechnically reached for some Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace and called, "Albus Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore's weary face appeared in the flames. He looked at Snape inquiringly, and Snape stated plainly, "It's finished."

"Good," Dumbledore nodded his approval. "Will you administer it tonight?"

"Yes. If I'm not mistaken, Lupin will need to take a vial each day between now and the arrival of the full moon and continue to take it through the period of the full moon, just to be safe. If everything goes as planned, he should not transform at all during the full moon, and if that happens to be the case, then he should be able to recover."

"I will meet you in the infirmary in ten minutes, then, Severus," Dumbledore replied, breaking the Floo connection.

Snape grabbed one of the vials of Wolfsbane and stowed all the others away in a locked cabinet for safekeeping. He would see to it personally that Lupin took the full dosage every day.

When Snape arrived in the infirmary a few minutes later, he noticed that the portrait of Sirius was perched on a chair at Lupin's bedside. Seeing Sirius made Snape's face darken for a moment, but then he saw Dumbledore... and noticed that he was not alone. Harry Potter was standing there as well. Snape decided not to say anything, even though he wondered why there had to be an audience.

Lupin was awake as Snape approached him. Smiling weakly at the Potions Master, Lupin murmured, "Severus... I don't know how to thank you..."

"Don't thank me yet, Lupin," Snape mumbled. "There is no guarantee it will work." His black eyes caught with Lupin's amber eyes for a second, but Snape quickly diverted his eyes away. It hurt too much to look into the eyes of the man whose very life was hanging by a thread in his hands.

Snape handed the vial to Lupin. "You must drink the whole thing, Lupin," he passively instructed. "I will be bringing you a vial to drink every day, and you must drink the whole thing each time."

Lupin took the vial and drank its contents slowly. He tried to refrain from making a face at the horrible taste of the potion, but a look of disgust was evident on his tired face as he finished.

"Ugh," Lupin muttered, "did you make it taste even more awful on purpose, Severus?"

At this, Snape couldn't help but to smile slightly. "No, Lupin... not on purpose. Unfortunately, the flavor of the potion suffered due to increasing its effectiveness. That, of course, is a minor issue."

"Yes, yes, it is," Lupin chuckled dryly, but then his laughter burst into a fit of coughs.

Snape uncomfortably stepped back, and just as he was about to leave, Sirius spoke.

"I suppose I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it, but now I do, Snape. Thank you for helping Remus out like this."

Snape's back was turned to the others, but he nodded once in acknowledgement and then vanished. Harry felt an odd mixture of relief and anxiety roiling inside him as he asked, "Now what?"

"Now we wait," Dumbledore said.

And wait they did. The following week was perhaps the most difficult one Harry had ever had to endure. How was he supposed to keep his mind focused on classes and homework when Lupin's life was on the line? Every day, as promised, Snape brought the potion to Lupin, and every day, Lupin drank the nasty-tasting stuff. Finally, the day came when the moon would be full come nightfall.

Even Snape felt nervous, and he had a hard time keeping his hand steady as he brought the Wolfbane to Lupin yet again. For the eighth time, Lupin drank the potion. As the evening grew late, several teachers, members of the Order, and Harry and his friends gathered in the infirmary to witness what would happen. They had to know. Would it work?

The sun set, and as the sky darkened outside, the stars blinked into existence for yet another night. The moon rose, pregnant in fullness, and all eyes settled on Lupin. No one could say how much time had passed as they watched him, but nothing happened. The moonlight was shining through the window near Lupin's bed now and settled directly on his body, but there wasn't even so much as a twitch.

It was almost unbelievable. Lupin glanced from side to side, and realizing that he wasn't transforming, he said in complete awe, "For the first time in my life, I'm a man and the moon is full. I'm... I'm still a man." His voice shook as his emotions took over.

Sighs of relief filled the room. There was a hushed silence in the air, and finally, Sirius's voice exclaimed, "What are you all so quiet for? He's gonna be all right!"

A wide smile broke out on Sirius's face, and as the realization that this was real, this was the truth, struck Harry, he found himself dodging for Lupin's bed, and before he could register what he was even doing, Harry was hugging Lupin like he would never let go. He was alive! He would live!

Dumbledore brought his hands together and began to clap, and as others joined in, applause filled the infirmary. When the noise had died down, Dumbledore announced that they would have to wait just a couple more days to be sure, but things looked bright and hopeful.

The whole while, Snape stood in the shadows in the background. He smiled inwardly at the scene, but he knew that to be surrounded by such joy was not in his nature. He had witnessed Lupin's miraculous recovery, and that had been enough for him. He made to quietly exit through the door when Dumbledore's voice suddenly called his name. Snape froze.

"Severus, please turn around and face us," the Headmaster said jovially. "It is because of you that our dear friend is still with us."

Looking like a deer caught in headlights, Snape's eyes were enlarged as he wordlessly stared at the room full of people. They broke into applause yet again.

Don't clap for me, he thought. I was just doing my job.

"Thank you, Severus!" Dumbledore exclaimed, only to be joined by Lupin. Sirius bellowed a very loud and exuberant, "Thanks, Snape!"

Snape shook his head is disbelief, but he managed a faint, "You're welcome," and then he left the room.

The noise died down, and Madame Pomfrey began telling everyone that they needed to leave so their friend could get some much-needed sleep. Harry wished his friends good night, telling them that he would see them later in Gryffindor Tower.

Before he left, he turned to Lupin one last time and said in the most sincere voice, "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you, Remus. I'm glad you're going to be okay."

Those words, however, couldn't even remotely express how grateful and how relieved and how happy Harry was feeling that moment. Lupin, though, seemed to know how truly happy Harry was, for when he smiled at Harry, he replied, "This is nothing short of wonderful, Harry."

In his happiness, Harry felt a tingle of guilt inside, and he muttered, "None of this would have happened had I not-"

"Harry," Lupin said firmly, "don't beat yourself up over it."

"Yeah, Harry," Sirius added. "If you want to blame someone, blame me. It was me who suggested that bloody place to begin with."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's still my fault, and you nearly paid for it with your life, Remus."

"What's done is done, Harry," Lupin sighed. "Don't worry yourself needlessly over the past. You won't do yourself any good."

"I suppose not," Harry mumbled. "Well, I suppose I ought to let you get some sleep..."

"Good night, then," Lupin replied. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Harry," Sirius added.

"Bye, guys," Harry replied, still feeling ashamed as he left the infirmary.

As Harry walked down the dark, empty corridor, he felt oddly alone and alienated. No one blamed him openly for what had happened, but that didn't change how he felt inside. He didn't feel like returning to Gryffindor Tower just yet, but where could he go where he would find someone who understood what such guilt over making such horrible mistakes felt like? And then it occurred to Harry just who might understand the most.

Snape.

Harry headed toward the dungeons and wondered if he would even find the dour man. He might very well have locked himself away in his hidden chambers by now, but as Harry reached the bottom of the staircase, he saw a dark figure stalking the hall.

Snape, who was glowering at the darkness, noticed Harry as well.

"Sir," Harry said hesitantly.

"What are you doing down here, Potter?" Snape sneered. "Shouldn't you be celebrating with your friends?"

Harry shifted uneasily. "I wanted to thank you, Professor, for... for everything you've done. Dumbledore told me that it was you who alerted the Order... and I already know that you also saved Remus's life."

"Think nothing of it," Snape spat. "I was simply doing my job."

"But... you risked a lot doing it," Harry countered.

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" Snape barked. "Do you have any idea just what I may have risked by alerting the Order to save your neck yet again, Potter? And why? All because of your recklessness, your foolishness! What in Merlin's name where you thinking, leaving the grounds like that, endangering not only your life, but your friends' lives as well? The Dark Lord is no fool, Potter. He will know that someone must have alerted the Order."

The full implications of his actions now rested heavily on Harry.

"I know!" Harry yelled angrily. "I don't need you to remind me!"

"Then why did you come down here, Potter?" Snape asked harshly.

"Because... because I thought maybe you'd understand," Harry muttered, "but I guess I was wrong."

"Understand?" Snape asked incredulously. "Yes, I clearly understand that you still think you are a law unto yourself, Potter, and I clearly understand that I seem to be the only one who thinks you are such. You have everyone else convinced that you can do no wrong, and the rest of us have to pick up the messes you create."

"Then excuse me for making a mistake," Harry said between bared teeth.

"Yes, a mistake," Snape sneered.

"So, you're telling me that you don't know what it feels like to make a mistake so horrible that you have to feel the guilt of its consequences weighing on you?" Harry found himself asking.

Snape blinked. So this was what Harry had come down here for. This sort of understanding.

Reluctantly, Snape whispered, "Then, yes... I do understand. I know what that feels like."

"You don't have to hide away from their gratitude, you know," Harry said carefully. "You just saved his life... you essientally saved so many lives, including mine, and this isn't the first time. Why are you so afraid?"

"I don't deserve their gratitude," Snape muttered darkly. "My life is to be spent paying for my past... mistakes, but they are hardly mistakes. I knew what I was doing."

"Did you?" Harry challenged.

"It doesn't matter," Snape continued. "It's easy enough to hide from the world, but try hiding from yourself. That's no easy feat, Harry. I would know."

"Well, I don't care what you think about yourself, sir," Harry said, gathering his courage, "because I think you are a good man. You have my respect, sir. I'm sorry I didn't give it to you long ago."

Snape didn't know what to say to such words. Any semblance of kindness was too much for Snape's bitter heart.

"You should go, Harry. Your friends will be wondering where you are."

Harry thought he heard a hint of regret and a tinge of sadness in Snape's voice as the Potions Master made his quick retreat. Harry stood there for a moment, the words they had exchanged lingering in his mind, and then he sighed, smiled a little, and went to Gryffindor Tower.

The next couple of days passed mostly uneventfully. Lupin had successfully remained in his human form during the course of the full moon, and as the next few days after that passed, he regained his strength and his health. Before Harry knew it, exams had come and gone, the Leaving Feast was thrown, the House Cup was awarded (given to Gryffindor, of course), and he found that the end of another year had come.

He hadn't spoken with Snape any more since that night more than a week prior, and a feeling of peace for the time being covered the castle like a protective blanket. Bags packed and ready to go, Harry now stood on the platform near the Hogwarts Express.

He glanced around, looking for any familiar faces to which he needed to say goodbye, and there stood Lupin, smiling at Harry. Harry rushed toward him.

"Well," Lupin remarked, "so ends another year, Harry."

"Yes," Harry simply replied.

There were a million thoughts going through his mind, things he wanted to tell Lupin, feelings he wanted to share at seeing him on his feet again, but just seeing him, alive and well, seemed to satisfy all those thoughts and emotions.

"Take care of yourself," Lupin said. "I'll want to be seeing you back in the fall."

"And you, Remus," Harry smiled.

With a quick embrace, Harry wished Lupin well and then boarded the train. He found the compartment that Neville, Luna, and Ginny had saved for him, and as the train shoved off, Harry looked out the window and watched as the faces of so many people smiled back, their hands waving, and the sun shining in the background. They eventually faded into the distance as the train sped into the countryside, and as Harry leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, he dreamt of the past fading away behind him as he sped into the future.