Chapter 2

At long last he reached his destination, although the gloom did not dissipate. As the feasting had gone late into the night, he wasn't surprised to see the eastern sky beginning to lighten. After all, it was June, and the sun rose early this time of year.

Wishing he had the talent that Hermione did for portable fires, he relied on the light of his wand to guide him. It was silent in the Shrieking Shack, and the silence seemed to press in on him as he stood there, not daring to move, barely daring to breathe.

It had taken all of his will for his legs to carry him here, and now that he was here he wasn't sure that he could do it. But he had to. He knew that somewhere, somehow, his father, Sirius, and Remus wanted him to. The three of them couldn't make things right, but he could. And he had to do it for his mother.

Slowly, he walked over to where the body of his former professor lay. He realized with a start that that had also been the first time that his scar hurt. That wasn't surprising, considering that Professor Quirrel, who was sitting next to him, was possessed by Voldemort.

He could remember his first Potions class like it was yesterday. Professor Snape's voice was soft, almost reflective, as he took roll call and came to his name.

"Ah yes, Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity."

Harry looked around. But there was no one there. Simply a memory.

"There were times I hated you as much as you appeared to hate me," Harry said, looking down at the form of his professor. The honesty of his own words shocked him. It wasn't that he hadn't thought it. But he hadn't ever said the words, not that he could remember.

Harry didn't know how long he stood there, reflecting on the experiences that he had had with Snape – the time when Ron told him that he had cursed his broom, when he saw Snape with the bloody leg... Everything had pointed to Snape being the one who was trying to get the Sorcerer's Stone. But all that time, he was trying to save him.

Looking up, he realized that the morning light was starting to filter into the windows, and it fell upon Snape's face. Harry stifled a gasp as he looked upon his face and saw how old his former professor looked. His face was twisted in pain, instead of bearing the usual look of comtempt or loathing.

"I never thanked you for what you did for me. Even if I didn't understand it at the time, you were doing what was best for me." Harry realized, for the first time, that it was partly because of Snape's treatment of him he had the strength to do the task that had to be done.

A breeze fluttered in through the window, gently ruffling Snape's long hair.

"There will be no more misunderstandings. Everyone will know the truth." Bending down, Harry tried to pick up his former professor, but found that he was too heavy. He cast a lightening spell on his body, then scooped him up in his arms.

A/N: Direct quote from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone used in this chapter.