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Picking Up the Pieces	By : greenwizard11 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/James Views: 13165 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe does not belong to me, ergo, no money is being made from this story.

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Harry sat perfectly still in the hospital bed and listened. He was in too much shock to join the conversation. One minute he'd been with Dumbledore trying to find a Horcrux, then his father was alive, was in love with Snape of all people, and his dad had stood idly by while Snape murdered Dumbledore. His dad even helped Snape get away with it! This wasn't the father he'd grown up hearing about. No, he must've Apparated them into some alternate universe or something.
He listened with interest while his dad told Remus all about that fateful October night when Harry’s mother had died. James had fought Voldemort but couldn't quite hold him off. He was thrown through the nursery door and didn't get back up, so Voldemort assumed he was dead and paid him no further mind. After the explosion James managed to get hold of a bottle of his special healing potion—he apparently kept one hidden in every room, just in case of such an attack. Dumbledore received James’ distress call, but arrived minutes too late. He took James to the hospital in Atlantis because he felt it would be safer; Voldemort and his Death Eaters would never dream of looking for him there. James woke up with an enchanted anklet around his ankle and was told by Dumbledore that he needed to stay out of Britain for a while. There was an argument over what to do with Harry when his parents could no longer care for him, but Dumbledore insisted he would be safe and happy with the Weasleys. James was forced to have no contact with anyone from the wizarding world for fifteen years, and there were many heated arguments over it. Then Dumbledore finally removed the slave shackle and had James brought to the castle to keep it safe. When James arrived he knew Harry would be with Dumbledore, so he had gone to see Snape first.
Harry let it all roll around in his head. It was difficult to imagine that Dumbledore would keep him away from his own father in favor of his mother’s horrible relatives, but the words had come from Dumbledore's own mouth before he died. But given the fact that Harry’s dad had killed all those Death Eaters and didn't seem bothered, and then had threatened Draco's life so flippantly, maybe Dumbledore was protecting Harry from his dad. That made the most sense out of all the other scenarios he could think of.
Harry didn't know how long he sat there. He didn't even speak to Ginny when she came in to see if he was all right. He wanted to, but he just couldn't force his mouth to move. Snape came back eventually and assured everyone that Draco was still alive. Voldemort had punished him for failing, but due to the fact that Dumbledore was dead he spared the boy's life. James left with the traitor, and one by one everyone else left too.
Harry sat alone in the dark for quite some time before he could move again. It was probably very late, but he wasn't tired. He wanted the answers he’d been promised. Harry's Cloak was still up in the tower, but he didn't need it. The halls were completely deserted. He didn't even run into any ghosts on the way to Snape's room.
He paused at the door for a moment, trying to prepare himself for what he might find. Then he pounded on the door and waited. Snape answered, dressed in only a pair of green pajama pants and reeking of liquor. Harry forced his way in, not waiting for an invitation. He saw his dad fast asleep in a four-poster bed. An open bottle of whiskey was sitting on the nightstand. "Working up the courage to kill him, too?" He turned to face Snape.
"No, I could never hurt him," Snape answered, his words heavily slurred. "What do you want?"
"Answers," Harry responded with his jaw clenched. "I was promised answers, and I want them. I see my father isn't having any trouble sleeping."
"He expended a lot of energy tonight. Let him rest. I'll give you any answers I can." Snape walked back to the bedroom and sat down on the bed facing Harry.
"You killed Dumbledore," Harry said in an accusing tone. "Dad asked me to keep your secret, but why should I? How could you do that? Dumbledore trusted you!"
"Your dad is just trying to protect me, something Dumbledore didn't bother to think about." Severus grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a swig, then set it back down. "Harry, I did a foolish thing. This summer Draco's mother came to me, concerned about her son. She hoped I could change the Dark Lord's mind, but that would be impossible. Bellatrix was with her and she suggested that I make a vow, an Unbreakable Vow. I only intended to vow to protect Draco, which I would have done anyway. But Bellatrix, she had other ideas. She added that if Draco failed, I would be the one to do the task in his place. I didn't want to."
"But you did. Why should I believe anything you just told me?"
Snape was quiet for a moment. "I suppose I haven't given you any reason to trust me, have I? I can show you my memories. I can also show you that Dumbledore knew everything the entire time. He was dying anyway. I'm sure you've noticed how black his hand was. It was a curse he'd come across when trying to destroy the ring. It was killing him slowly. Yes, Harry, I know all about the Horcruxes and your mission to destroy them. I'm supposed to help you, though how Dumbledore thought I was going to do that I haven't a clue. Thanks to your dad I can sit here and tell you all of this. I wasn't supposed to, but fuck it."
"Yeah, I'd like to see those memories. Right now I could use a little proof."
Snape stood up on unsteady legs and grabbed his wand. He made his way over to his desk, where he pulled out a vial. He put the tip of his wand to his temple and drew out long, glowing strings and put them into the vial and handed it over.
Harry reached out to take it, but Snape didn't let go. "This is a war, Harry. There's going to be death and destruction. Your dad knows this. He knows that if given half a chance, those Death Eaters would have killed him. He does what he feels he has to."
Harry yanked the vial out of Snape’s hand. "Yeah, he killed those Death Eaters and is now sound asleep. What's your point?"
"I just don't want you to write him off because of what happened tonight. Hate me if you must, but don't shut him out. I want him to be happy, and I know he loves you."
Harry still didn't know what to make of everything. He wanted to see those memories, hoping they would give him some clarity. He certainly wasn't going to be able to sleep until the world made a little more sense. "You know, I was pretty sure you hated him. That's why you hate me, isn't it?"
Snape snorted and shook his head. "I don't hate you. That's something else I need to talk to you about. All those things I said—I didn't mean most of them. I was deeply wounded when I learned your parents were dead. Harry, they were the only people in the world who loved me unconditionally. You and I, we had such similar childhoods. When I saw you walk in those doors, you looked so much like your father. It hurt to be reminded of what I'd lost. And so I unfairly lashed out at you. I'm sorry for that. I told your dad everything, by the way."
Harry was shocked at hearing those words come out of Snape's mouth. They couldn't magically erase six years of verbal abuse, but Harry supposed it was a start, providing Snape was telling the truth about everything. "Are you just saying that because my dad made you?"
"Well, yes and no. We talked about it and both agreed it was the right thing to do. I have him back now. Everything is such a complicated mess, but I have my little piece of happiness back. I want you to have a relationship with your dad, and I don't want to put him in the middle between us. That happened with Black and he refused to take sides, and I know it wore on him."
"After tonight I can't promise anything. Just let me go look at your memories."
Snape nodded. "I didn't expect an instant fix. The password is now ‘phoenix’. Have a drink before you go. You probably need one as badly as I did." Snape went back to the night stand to grab the bottle and hold it out.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took the bottle. He took a sniff and wrinkled his nose. It smelled strong, a lot stronger than butterbeer. He put the bottle to his lips and took a small sip, choking as the warmth trickled down his throat and spread through his chest.
Snape chuckled and took the bottle back, taking another drink from it. "Haven't had anything stronger than butterbeer, I take it."
"No," Harry confirmed. "I'm just going to go now." He turned and left the room. He was torn between hoping Snape was telling the truth and hoping he was lying. Dumbledore had been like a grandfather to Harry since he’d come to Hogwarts. Now Dumbledore was gone, and Harry's life was turned upside down.
He met no one on his way up to the Headmaster's office. The password was exactly what Snape had said it was. Harry ascended the revolving staircase and stood in the center of the room for several minutes, just staring at everything around him. Nothing had changed. Everything was just as it had been earlier that night when Dumbledore was still alive.
The Pensieve was exactly where it had been the last time Dumbledore had used it. Harry took the memories and dumped them into it, watching as they swirled in the liquid. Just like he'd done several other times that year, he leaned forward and let himself fall into the past.
He was in Dumbledore's office, the only light in the room coming from lit candles. Dumbledore sat in his chair, Snape by his side. Dumbledore’s black arm was exposed, and Snape was examining it while asking questions. Dumbledore wasn't exactly forthcoming, but did say it had to do with the ring Harry saw sitting on the desk. He listened, his face unreadable, as Snape said there was nothing he could do. He could slow the curse, but not stop it. It would eventually kill Dumbledore.
Harry felt his cheeks get hot. Why couldn't Snape stop it? Wasn't he supposed to be a great wizard? Why didn't Dumbledore go to somebody else? Did he not trust Madame Pomfrey enough? The memory didn't seem altered as far as Harry could tell, so Snape was telling the truth about the curse at least. It just raised so many more questions that only Dumbledore could answer.
Everything around him faded into blackness, and Harry soon found himself in a shabby living room. Snape was there along with Bellatrix and a blonde woman, who Harry assumed was Draco's mother. Just as Snape said she had, Draco's mother was pleading with Snape to help Draco. Snape promised to do his best to protect Draco, but Bellatrix piped up to suggest the Unbreakable Vow. Snape hesitated, but when Bellatrix called him a coward he rashly told her to take out her wand. Harry watched helplessly as the Vow was made.
The scene blurred and went dark again, then Harry was back in Dumbledore's office. It was daytime; sunlight was streaming in the windows, brightening everything up. Harry stood in the center of the room while Snape told Dumbledore about the Vow he'd made. Dumbledore didn't seem upset at all. Harry's stomach dropped when Dumbledore actually said that being murdered would be a better death for him than a slow and painful one from a curse.
The words barely registered in Harry's brain as the two men started to argue, but he snapped back to attention when he heard his name. They were arguing about him; Snape was actually concerned for his welfare. Dumbledore was convinced Harry would be fine. "No, I won't!" Harry shouted despite the fact that they couldn't hear him. "I won't be fine! I need you!"
The third memory ended there, and Harry found himself back in the dark office. Everything he had thought he knew was wrong. Dumbledore had known he was going to die, and instead of fighting it he’d helped to plan it. Harry didn't know what to think about the man anymore. Maybe Dumbledore wasn't protecting him from his dad. Maybe it was just another plot, and Harry had been placed with his relatives for no good reason.
Harry wanted to go wake his dad and get more answers, but his legs wouldn't hold him up. He sank to the stone floor and curled up in a ball. He'd already been through so much in his young life. How could Dumbledore do this to him?
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Picking Up the Pieces