Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Special thanks to my betas. Ladies, you are wonderful!

~o0o~

Late autumn breezes raced through the graveyard. Orange and red leaves floated on the skittish gusts, seeming to chase each other. They came to an abrupt halt at the feet of a darkly clad man, as if his very presence had taken the joy out of the late afternoon frolicking.

Severus Snape glared down at the two grave markers before him. One he tried his best to ignore, as it contained the remains of his worst childhood enemy, the usurper of his happiness. He concentrated instead on the grave he had truly com to visit. Lily: his one and only love.

Severus' knees buckled as a sob escaped him. Kneeling before the grave, he let out a howl of pain and frustration.

"I am so sorry, Lily, so sorry. I tried, really tried to save you, even if it meant saving Potter too. He wouldn't listen. He had to kill the boy. And you had to be brave and protect him."

Severus reached out, running his fingers over her beloved name again and again.

"But I kept my promise; I kept your boy safe for you. How I despised him for looking so much like his father. But I did it for you. Even with all of Dumbledore's schemes, he did it. He defeated the Dark Lord. But you know that, don't you?"

Severus' hands clenched into fists as a wave of pain washed through him. "Merlin, I miss you so much! I cannot even move on to the next life to be with you. Why am I not moving on, Lily? Why can't I see you?"

Severus broke off at the constriction in his chest and allowed himself to collapse on the grave he could never bring himself to visit before.

~o0o~

Harry walked slowly through the village. He could not suppress a shudder when he thought of the last time he had been there, nearly a year ago. Images of a snake and human skin falling to the floor like dirty robes played trough his mind. Harry shook his head, firmly pushing those memories as far into the back of his mind as he could.

It was different this time. Late afternoon sunlight shone through the trees that were beginning to lose their autumn splendor. Children raced from cottage to cottage, dressed in all sorts of costumes. A little girl ran past him, dressed in a Muggle version of a witch: pointy hat, grey wig, long warty nose and gnarled fingers. Harry suppressed a laugh when he thought about what Hermione would say.

Turning his thoughts to the more pressing matter, Harry continued to trudge along the lane through the village. No one paid him much attention, as the parents were much too busy trying to control their little trick-or-treaters.

October 31st – Halloween – the seventeenth anniversary of his parent's death. As he neared the graveyard, Harry began to wish he had taken up Ron and Hermione's offer to come with him. But this was something he knew he had to deal with himself. This trip to Godric's Hollow was not fraught with danger. It was time for him to lay his past to rest.

Harry hesitated before opening the gate to the cemetery. With a physical effort, he repressed the memories threatening to overcome him and ducked through the rusty old gate. A few steps in, Harry moved behind a large tree, made sure no one could see him and took out his wand. As quietly as he could, he conjured up one single black lily.

Harry moved from behind the tree, making towards the graves he had come to see. His mind was so busy thinking of what he would say to his parents, that, at first, he failed to notice the figure huddled in his way.

Harry's befuddled brain seemed to register two things almost simultaneously: The black-clad figure seemed to be kneeling right before his mother's grave, and the figure bore a remarkable resemblance to the late Professor Snape.

Harry quickened his pace as his heart began to race. The Snape look-alike did not seem to take any notice of his approach. It was too impossible, but stranger things had happened...

"Professor Snape?" Harry began tentatively.

Snape's head jerked up so quickly, that if he had any muscles in his neck, he could have done himself some real damage.

"Potter?! You can see me?" Snape was incredulous.

"Of course I can, sir." Harry looked at Snape as if he were approaching a wild and crazy beast. "If I may ask, where have you been? Everyone thinks you are dead."

"That may just be because I am dead, Potter. You seem to be the only one who has been able to see me in five months. Merlin knows I tried everyone else..."

Snape broke off, pacing up and down the grass, muttering to himself. Every now and then Harry caught a snatch of a phrase...

"...Of course, the Baron was no help..."

"... Bloody house-elf..."

"Uh, sir?"

"... And don't even get me started on Minerva..."

"... My luck, Harry bloody Potter!"

"Professor?"

"... Help from a Gryffindor..."

"PROFESSOR SNAPE!"

"What?" Snape rounded on the hapless Harry. "Can you not see that I was concentrating on a train of thought, boy? What is so important that you had to interrupt me?"

"Professor Snape, I don't understand what's going on. We saw you... I saw you die in the Shrieking Shack. But here you are, at my mother's grave, seeming alive and well! How did you survive?"

Snape gave Harry a look of pure condescension.

"I did not survive, Potter. I did die that night on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack. Only, for some perverse reason that only Merlin knows, my blasted spirit will not move on, and I am stuck here with no where to go."

"Professor Snape," Harry's voice took on a confident tone. "Now that I have found you, you can help me gather evidence in your favour." Harry's face took on a smug look as he found what he thought to be the solution to everyone's problems.

Snape stood gaping at the Boy Who Refused to Bloody Well Die and Leave Him Alone.

"And what trial are you babbling on about?"

"Your 'posthumous' trial is set to begin in a few weeks time. I am your advocate and am most determined to prove you were working for the Order and Dumbledore the entire time. Of course, now that I have found you, I can take a few more memories and other evidence you can provide me with to clear your name!" Harry was now positively beaming at the thought.

Snape continued to stare, flabbergasted, at the idiot. When he was finally able to close his gaping mouth (visions of Neville Longbottom in Potions class came to mind), he gathered his scattered wits and directed his most ferocious glare towards the unlucky young man.

"And how, pray tell, are you planning on gathering memories and evidence from a ghost that none but your esteemed self has been able to see? Will you put me as a witness and act as a translator too?"

It seemed it was Harry's turn to gape like a trout out of water. He blinked once, slowly, as if to clear his brain.

"I don't understand," Harry began, ignoring Snape's muttered comments about how obvious that was. "Professor, I am standing here, talking to you, looking at you, but you keep claiming to be dead!"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin's holey socks, Potter! Fine! To prove this to you once and for all, follow me."

Snape set off through the graveyard, not giving Harry a choice of whether to follow him or not. Harry looked down at the flower clenched in his hand. Kneeling down, he gently laid it across his mother's grave.

"Sorry this is such a short visit, Mum. But something quite important has come up. I promise I will visit again."

With that, Harry scrambled to his feet and followed Snape out the graveyard.

He found Snape waiting for him at the rusty old gate, his eyes fixed on an elderly lady across the road who seemed to be watching Harry intently.

"Observe, Potter. I am only doing this once."

Snape walked through the closed gate, strode up the woman and promptly began waving his hands in front of her face. The woman didn't even flinch, her curious gaze never leaving Harry.

Harry schooled his feature to a semblance of calm, ducked through the gate and crossed the street to where Severus now stood smirking at him.

"Um, excuse, me ma'am? Did you see the man I was with in the cemetery? Tall, dark hair, smug expression?"

"No, dearie. I saw you standing by the graves, talking to yourself, but I never saw anyone with you."

"Thank you." Harry shot a glare at Snape and stomped off up the road until he found a quiet, secluded ally. He was quite gratified when Snape followed him.

"This doesn't prove anything, you know. Muggles can't see ghosts, so even if..." Harry trailed off as he realized what he said.

"Ah," Snape retorted, smirking in earnest now. "But it does prove that I am dead. Really dead, not the faking-my-own-death-to-avoid-Azkaban kind of dead."

"But... but... You don't look dead. I mean like a ghost. All the ghosts I have seen have been transparent and float around! You look solid and normal-coloured, and you walk, not float!"

"I wish I knew, Potter. You are the first being, living or dead, magical or Muggle, human or creature to actually see me. I have no idea what is going on and why my spirit is not moving on! I have tried to research this, but I cannot access my books in this form."

As he finished this last sentence, Harry's face began to light up.

"Sir, there is one person I would like to have on my side when it comes to problems that need to be researched and solved, it's..."

"Hermione Granger," they both said together, Harry's face beaming, while Severus tried to sigh in resignation.

~o0o~

A picture of the flower Harry conjured for his mother can be found at these links:

http://www.myweddingflowers.co.nz/p3_1.htm

http://www.flowersbulbs.com/ibulb_black_calla_lily_hot_chocolate.php