Ashes of Armageddon

True to her word, Hermione Granger dropped by a week later, only to deliver by hand an official notification regarding the Silver Cross award, to be awarded to Severus Snape for his ground-breaking work on Polyjuice. He stared at the letter and found the corners of his lips twitching into an amused, but immensely satisfied smirk.



The Silver Cross award was the first recognition he had received; but not the last. Other awards followed, including the long-coveted Order of Merlin, First Class, granted in a long-drawn-out ceremony, recognizing his years of work for the Order of Phoenix.



Severus Snape was Slytherin enough to be able to wallow in glory and recognition shamelessly and unapologetically. However, the reception after the ceremony had gotten on his nerves fairly quickly. Being recognized was one thing, shaking hands with people who had less spine than rice pudding, was another matter altogether. An hour into reception, Severus began to wonder if the Order of Merlin was really worth the torture of having to be civilized for an entire evening.



Eventually, Severus managed to get away. He fled to the balcony, and hid behind the flower-boxes with large, vine-like climbing plants that separated the quiet corner of the balcony from the door.



He barely issued a deep breath of relief at his escape, when he heard the familiar footsteps. The footsteps stopped behind the wall of greenery and absolute silence followed instead.



“My, my,” Severus drawled contemptuously. “Where's that Gryffindor courage of yours, Mr. Potter?”



Harry muttered an obscenity under his breath, and pushed his way through the plethora of climbing plants, coming face to face with Severus.



“Sir,” Harry said quietly, without a preamble. “I must apologize about the other day. I didn't mean it like that. I wouldn't have – I would have never wanted you to be ...” he winced, unable to complete the sentence.



“Servile?” Severus supplied, hoping that his voice would be dripping with sarcasm. It was, but not to the extent he was aiming for.



“Yes. For what it's worth, I am sorry. I honestly didn't mean that. I just ran after you without thinking. I didn't intend to insult you.”



Severus nodded curtly. “I'm sorry too,” he offered suddenly, surprising himself. “My reaction to your words was needlessly harsh.”



“No,” Harry said firmly. “It was just perfect.” He sighed and glanced down in embarrassment. “Sir, I don't quite know how to say this.. ” a painful smile crossed his lips and vanished. “Remember what I told you at King's Cross?” he asked. “I...”



Severus lifted his hand to stop him in mid-sentence.



“Harry,” he said quietly. “I know.”



Harry looked at him thoughtfully, as if wanting to ask something, but not daring to.



Severus found himself sneering, just a little. “You want to know if I love you, and you are wondering how to pose the question without getting murdered.”



“Something like that.”



“Well,” Severus said resignedly. “I do not particularly like you, Mr. Potter, but, over the years, I have come to care for you.” He sneered again, trying to make light of the words that followed: “As for love... perhaps, not quite the way Ginny Weasley does, but in my own way, I suppose I do.”



Harry's expression turned to faintly hopeful. “Then, maybe...”



“No,” Severus said bluntly, without waiting for Harry to complete the question. “That, I am afraid, would be impossible.”



Harry nodded. “I wish I could just fall to my knees and beg forgiveness,” he whispered. “But how do I ask forgiveness for something like this? It's beyond apologies, or restitutions. Nothing could ever set this right.”



Severus looked at him thoughtfully. “You think I am blaming you.”



“You should.”



Unhappily, Severus sighed. “Harry,” he said. “Listen to me very carefully, because I will only say this once, and because this is the only absolution you will ever receive from me. Regarding everything that happened in the last two months: the blame is not yours. It is mine.”



Harry stared at him incredulously. “What? Are you bloody mad?”



Severus shook his head briefly, and then said reluctantly: “If not for my treason two and a half decades ago, you would not have become the Dark Lord's Horcrux. Through that single action, I had damaged you and damned nearly destroyed you. And simply put, the responsibility is mine that from now on you will have to live with the memories of the crimes that were not your doing.”



Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Severus stopped him in mid-sentence.



“This discussion is over, as far as I am concerned,” he said sharply. “Now, will there be anything else?”



Harry nodded. “ I don't mean to offend you... but what about the bond? You've said it yourself. No matter how relaxed, or benign, it still sustains the feelings that are already there. As far as I understand it, it won't allow you to ... you know.. stop loving me.”



“Very true,” Severus agreed calmly. “But I am quite used to loving from a distance; and what you, and your friends seem to forget now and then, is that, bond or not, I am first and foremost human.” He glanced at him with a slight, and not particularly pleasant smile. “And humanly speaking, Harry, love isn't enough. Me understanding that you are innocent is not enough, either. There are too many memories, that are now ingrained in my body and mind, to make any deeper connection both unpleasant and demeaning. In all honestly, I prefer to retreat while I can, and salvage the mangled remnants of my humanity. For that reason, I request that we give each other plenty of space, and do not keep in touch beyond what is absolutely necessary, given that, for better or worse, we now appear to have some friends in common.”



Harry nodded briefly, and glanced at him, green eyes begging for something; and Severus was not sure what.



They stared at each other cautiously for what seemed like the longest stretch of time that two people can share, without either of them breaking the silence, or making the first move. Finally, Severus relented and gave Harry a small nod. Harry responded at once, walking towards him uncertainly until he was standing right in front of him, close enough to touch, but not daring to make contact. Severus opened his arms, and at once, Harry embraced him tightly, not clinging to him, or using him for support – just holding him firmly, as an old friend might.



“Thank you,” Harry said quietly. “Thank you for letting me say goodbye like this.”



Severus did not know how to reply to that, so he simply hugged him back awkwardly, and issued a little displeased grunt, when he realized that Harry was half-laughing, half-sobbing in his embrace.



“What's funny?” Severus demanded.



“There's a Muggle song,” Harry forced out the words. “All you need is love.”



“Yes. My father was quite fond of it,” Severus said. “Some strange band it was. The lead singer had glasses somewhat like yours. What was their name, Bugs?”



“Beatles,” Harry said, sighing slightly. “Stupid Muggle musicians,” he muttered. “Why would they come up with a line like that, when it's clearly not true?”



Smirking, Severus patted Harry on the back.



“Perhaps, because they have never met Tom Riddle.”





End of Book One



...To Be Continued....





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