A Reflection of Himself

While Aurors began to take away the Death Eaters who remained alive, many members of the Order gathered around Dumbledore's lifeless body, the realization of what they were now seeing with their own eyes washing over them, taking hold of them in the whirlpool effect, and potentially threatening to drown them as they tried to hold back their tears, whether physical or figurative.

Harry was at Snape's side, though, wondering why no one seemed to notice him. Maybe it was his dark Death Eater robes that kept him hidden, or maybe it was the Death Eater mask on his face that served as a reminder to far too many people of the man's past. Ripping the mask off Snape's face now, Harry felt a flash of anger that anyone could possibly still believe Snape unredeemable.

But he saved my life! he longed to scream.

Harry knew he should be mourning for Dumbledore, and he was, but Dumbledore's last action of sacrificing himself for Harry came as no surprise to people, Harry included. Dumbledore was, after all, the most powerful good wizard of the century, and his loyalty and belief in Harry's ability to defeat Voldemort were well known, even to the point of ridicule and shun by some over the past few years.

Shaking his head, Harry wondered why he didn't feel the slightest bit happy. Hadn't he been waiting for this day for so long?

Glancing down at Snape's paler than usual face, Harry thought his belief confirmed, that yes, this man was now dead, but in the rush of emotion and softened voices all around him, he thought he heard shallow breathing. With the thickness of the garment covering Snape's chest, Harry couldn't tell if it was moving, so, bending down closer, he listened and then felt a weak wisp of air hit his cheek.

Feeling his heart skip a beat, he turned toward the others, finding Mrs. Weasley nearly upon him, followed by several others, all who had looks of concern on their faces. Harry wondered if those looks were for him or for Snape. Sadly, he figured they were worried about him.

"He's alive," Harry croaked. "We've gotta get him to the infirmary, now!"

Mrs. Weasley, startled by Harry's sudden outburst, visibly jumped back. "Harry, dear, that is impossible. Both Albus and he took the killing curse for you."

"No," Harry almost pleaded. "Listen. Come here and listen. He's breathing."

Mrs. Weasley stepped closer, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder as she did so. After a moment, her eyes grew in size, and she gasped. "You heard him!" she called to the others. "We need to get Severus some help, and fast!"

Arthur Weasley was right behind his wife, followed by Tonks and Lupin. Sirius looked uneasily at his classmate enemy and then at Harry. Then, joining the others nearby, they placed a hovering spell on Snape's unconscious form and began moving him to the castle.

Harry followed them, glancing back at Dumbledore's body, which was surrounded by Aurors. Turning his head away, he walked solemnly toward the castle.

Madam Pomfrey was already in full-mode to start helping those who were injured. Some students who had minor injuries were already being treated by a couple of other mediwitches, who Harry assumed were from St. Mungo's and had been called in. She had not known about Dumbledore, but when she saw Snape, she thought the worst.

"Is he- ?" she started to ask.

"No," Mr. Weasley said. "Almost, though."

"Put him down on this bed," she commanded, gesturing toward the nearest cot. "What happened?"

Harry had been following directly behind as the adults levitated Snape into the castle, not noticing that his friends were right behind him. "Dumbledore and he took the killing curse for me," Harry explained, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Oh, my," Pomfrey breathed, horrified. "Is Albus- ?" He couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, but could tell by the looks on everyone's faces that the Headmaster was dead.

Stifling a sob, she blinked several times, apparently trying not to start crying. Mrs. Weasley went over to her and tried to offer comfort, but Madam Pomfrey shrugged her off gently. "Pull yourself together, Poppy," she murmured to herself. "Now is not the time to start falling apart at the seams."

Harry suddenly felt a hand reaching for his clammy one and turned to see Ginny there. Offering him a weak smile, she squeezed his hand and pulled him toward her. She led Harry to a seat, and along with Hermione and Ron, they sat down and watched. There was nothing they could do but hope and pray.

While Mrs. Weasley set to helping out with the patients, Tonks and Lupin said they would return to the battlefield and check the status of things. While Madam Pomfrey worked on Snape, Sirius came over to Harry and knelt down in front of him.

"How are you holding up, Harry?" he asked, searching his godson's face.

Harry shook his head. "I feel like... like I've exploded and pieces of me are everywhere. What's wrong with me, Sirius? I should be happy." There was a desperation in Harry's voice, and he sounded very young.

"Harry," Sirius said gently, "you've just defeated Voldemort and drained yourself in the process, not to mention Dumbledore has been killed by that horrible creature. I don't think anyone ever imagined Dumbledore being taken down by anyone, even Voldemort."

"Everyone always looked up to him," Harry added softly, "including me. Why did he have to be so foolish, though?" Gesturing toward the cot where Snape lay, Harry continued, "Why did he have to be so foolish? Why did they think they had to die... for... for me?" An incredible guilt was coursing through Harry's veins at the very thought that one person for sure and perhaps another had died for him.

"Because, Harry, they were willing to," Sirius pointed out. "Just like I was when I fell through the veil. I don't know what I did to get a second chance or if I even deserve it, but had I not been distracted by Peter out there, I would have jumped in front of you to protect you. You know that. I think practically everyone out there fighting on our side would have done likewise for you, Harry. Everyone depended on you to defeat Voldemort."

"Well, they don't need to depend on me anymore," Harry stated bitterly. "That filthy snake is gone for good, but I didn't want any more people to die on my account, damn it!"

Harry angrily pounded his fist on his thigh, causing his friends to jump. "Harry-" Hermione and Ginny started to say, very worried about him.

"Forget it," Harry murmured.

Standing up and sensing that there was nothing more he could do for Harry right now, Sirius said, "I think I'll give you some space for now, Harry, and go see if they need any help outside. You know where to find me."

Harry nodded sullenly and watched as Sirius left. As soon as Sirius had left, McGonagall entered. Seeing Harry, she immediately ran to his side. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"Oh, Harry," she said, clutching his hand. "I'm so glad you're okay. I got caught up in keeping the students protected, that I didn't have time to arrive until late."

"Did you- ?" Harry started to ask, but then stopped, for he could tell from the look on her face that she already knew.

"Yes, Harry," she said sadly. "Hagrid already told me. I should have known Albus would do something like this." Sniffling, she sighed, "He loved you like a son, Harry. He would have done anything for you, you realize."

Harry said bitterly, "So everyone keeps telling me. I really don't care to talk about it right now, ma'am."

With a nod of understanding, McGonagall left Harry alone and went to Snape's beside.

"He looks like death," she murmured to Madam Pomfrey. "I heard what happened," she added, shaking her head forlornly.

Pomfrey replied, "It would seem that Albus took the brunt of the curse. He must have been just to the front, enough to offer protection to Severus, but I'm afraid Severus was also hit pretty hard. There is no small doubt in my mind that any curse coming from You-Know-Who would have been at least ten times stronger than coming from anyone else."

"Will he survive?" McGonagall ventured softly, her eyes traveling down the length of Snape despondently.

"I cannot say," Madam Pomfrey murmured. "I have done all that I can for now. He is stabilized, but only time will tell."

"Then I guess we are left waiting," McGonagall said quietly. Turning, she headed for the door, stopping near Harry and his friends. "Perhaps you all ought to try and get some sleep. I realize this is asking a near impossibility, but there will only be much more left to deal with come morning."

"Professor?" Ron asked suddenly.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

"Are you in charge now?"

She had not thought of it, but realizing that Dumbledore was truly gone, even though it had not fully sunk in yet, she nodded. "Yes, I suppose I am. This is not the way I would have wanted it, though. I always imagined Professor Dumbledore simply retiring, and then I would assume his place." She paused, casting a despairing look across the room and out the window. "But who was I fooling, really? I should have known better."

With those heart-wrenching words, she left the students in silence. Harry gave his friends a look that said, "I'm not going anywhere," and remained in the infirmary. They refused to leave his side.

A little while later, Draco came floating into the infirmary. "What a mess," he murmured, more to himself than anyone.

"No kidding, Malfoy," Ron said sarcastically, glaring at him. "Where've you been, anyway?"

Ignoring Ron's tone of voice, Draco replied, "Out on the field. Like I said, what a mess. I was there, in case you living didn't notice." Draco looked a bit put out as he frowned.

"I saw you, Draco," Hermione said softly. "You were great." She smiled a little.

Ron had no words for this as his mouth gaped, but Draco just nodded. "Not much I could have done but startle a few people. It takes a lot of concentration and energy to materialize. I'm afraid that I was really only able to do that when I pushed Auntie through the veil."

He tried to appear smug, but there was no heart in it. Glancing over at Harry, Draco said, "Well done, Potter. Looks like you finally proved yourself."

Harry wanted to roll his eyes. "It wasn't about proving myself, Malfoy. You know that."

"Yeah, I know," Draco murmured. "I guess I was just trying to act like things were still... normal."

Harry could understand that, but muttered, "I don't think I know what normal is anymore."

Silence loomed for a while, and Draco floated out of the infirmary, but not before going to Snape's beside. With a sorrowful shake of the head, he had no words.

Despite everything that was going through Harry's overworked mind, his felt his eyelids growing heavy. Turning his head slightly, he noticed that Ginny had fallen asleep next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He tightened his grasp around her and gazed over at Hermione and Ron. Ron was leaning his head back at an odd angle that looked quite uncomfortable and was snoring, but Hermione was still awake.

"Looks like he'll have quite a neck cramp come morning," Harry found himself joking lightly.

Hermione laughed softly. It was the first time either of them had it in them to laugh. "Yeah, you know he can manage to sleep through anything. I'm surprised the alarm woke him up. Otherwise, he probably would have slept through the battle," Hermione said with a smile.

"He would have never lived that one down," Harry said, yawning.

Hermione just smiled and then closed her eyes. Before Harry realized it, he had managed to fall asleep.

Pale morning sunlight was filtering into the room, warming the skin on his face. Feeling the warmth, he thought he must be dreaming or no longer alive, for what could possibly feel this good? The last thing he remembered was darkness and a flash of green light, and then... nothing.

Opening his eyes, he found himself staring, unfocused, at the ceiling. As consciousness and coherence returned, he began to feel the pain emanating all over his body. There was a dull ache in his head, and he winced as his eyes reached their full openness.

Someone shuffled next to him, and he turned his head slightly to see who it was, cringing at the soreness from being in one position for so long. It was McGonagall. She looked worn to the bone, and he was just about to ask her what had happened when she placed a finger to his lips to silence him.

"Shhh, don't speak," she murmured. "You've barely enough energy to be breathing and blinking right now, let alone talking."

Protesting internally, Snape made to speak, but again, McGonagall shushed him. "I would highly advice against it, Severus," she stated sternly. "That is, unless you would like a silencing spell placed on you."

Realizing this was a battle he was not going to win, he relented, too drained to protest further. Relaxing his shoulders, he gave her a questioning look, which prompted her to explain what had happened.

"Yes, in case you are wondering, Harry has destroyed him," she said.

Snape felt a rush of relief go through him, but wondered why she didn't seem happier. His memory of what had happened was fuzzy, but focusing on his last thoughts before blacking out, he suddenly realized he shouldn't even be here now. Then, with a sudden sinking feeling, Snape remembered that someone else had lept to Harry's protection at the last moment.

Dumbledore.

Creasing his brow uneasily, Snape looked up at McGonagall with a pained expression on his face. Despite her warnings otherwise, he spoke.

"Where is Albus?" he asked, his mouth feeling drier than it had a moment ago.

She had a difficult time looking him in the eyes just then. McGonagall glanced away and out the window, and Snape noticed that her eyes were glassy. She didn't have her square spectacles on, so it was plain to see that she was about to cry. A rebel tear spilled over the brim of her lower eyelid and fell steadily down her wrinkled cheek. Shaking her head almost inperceptibly, McGonagall whispered, "I'm so sorry, Severus."

Feeling his mouth hanging open, he couldn't believe it to be true. She had not spoken the exact words that pronounced Dumbledore's demise, but the unspoken words were all around, evidently hanging in the air. Now, gazing around the room, Snape noticed Harry Potter and his friends all asleep in chairs near the doorway, expressions of unease on all their faces.

"It can't be," he murmured, refusing to believe the truth.

"I'm afraid it is true," was all she could manage. "He took the brunt of the curse."

Suddenly, anger overwhelmed Snape, and he bolted up in bed and slammed his fists down hard onto the mattress on either side of him. Squeezing his eyes shut, hoping desperately that maybe if he didn't have to see the world around him, he wouldn't have to face the reality of things.

"That blundering old fool!" he yelled. "He took away from me the only thing I could ever do that would prove my loyalty!"

Snape's suddenly raised voice startled those around them awake, including Harry and his friends, and Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, bustling into the room.

"Severus!" both she and McGonagall admonished.

McGonagall, though, was too shocked to say anything to those hopeless words. Fearing for Snape's condition, Madam Pomfrey cast a calming spell on him and then force-fed him a very heavy sleeping draught. He fell into a drug-induced slumber immediately.

"Another outburst like that and I fear to say what could happen to him," she said, shaking her head.

"I know, Poppy," McGonagall replied, frowning. "Can you blame him, though?"

"No," the mediwitch was forced to admit.

The two witches glanced over in the direction of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Professor McGonagall walked over to them and said, "I think it is time you all returned to your rooms. Breakfast is only a couple of hours away, and it would do us all some good to get a little sleep in our beds."

Before they left, Harry said to McGonagall, "I'm glad he woke up, at least."

"That is a start, Harry," she replied wistfully, "but we all have a long way to go before we are all recovered from this tragedy."

As Harry left, he considered her choice of words.

Tradegy.

Everyone always imagined the final defeat of Voldemort to be a time of joy and celebration, but for those who were the most intimately involved, most of what they felt was the tradegy of such great loss.