[SSHP] End of life

After staring blankly at the photo for an indeterminate amount of time, Harry felt that all the strength in his body had been drained.Instead there is a great void and sadness.

How many people died because of him?Parents, godfathers, many unknown wizards and witches.Harry thought of the nightmarish hours after Sirius had tumbled into the Veil, when he knew he was completely out of control.

Harry guessed that Dumbledore was probably disappointed in him then.But he couldn't help himself.Dumbledore didn't mean to be tempting, he was equally distressed by Sirius' departure.Had he been wrong for not chaining Sirius up?The fault of not being able to predict the recklessness and self-righteousness of the students in time?No, even Dumbledore cannot be omniscient.As an elder, Dumbledore was obviously not wrong, but he tolerantly gave the furious him an outlet to vent his anger.After the loss of Sirius, willfulness and irascibility lasted for a long time.In the familiar principal's office, which he may no longer be able to go to now, he even smashed things impulsively.What did Dumbledore do?He just smiled and said his belongings were too much.

A sense of shame mingled with Harry's sadness.He thought he knew Dumbledore very well, but when he really tried to remember, he had to realize that he had never known him. Every time he thought of Dumbledore, the one he knew immediately popped into his mind. A stately, old man with silver hair.He had absolutely no idea of ​​Dumbledore, it was like trying to imagine a stupid Hermione or a friendly Wreck.

He remembered the only personal question he'd ever asked Dumbledore: "What did you see when you looked in the magic mirror?"

But Dumbledore still didn't seem to be telling the truth.Maybe he didn't think the Harry at that time was qualified enough to be honest with him even a hundredth of the time.Winking mischievously in front of the Mirror of Erised, he replied, "Me? I saw myself holding a pair of thick woolen socks."

Nothing left.Harry thought desperately.Even Neville had his grandmother and uncle, and he had lost his family, his lighthouse.Even if thousands of people behind him look up to him and regard him as the last light and hope, he will never get what he wants again.Even if he would have a normal life in the future, no one would look at him so wholeheartedly as the reason for his entire existence.

Only when you lose can you truly realize how important the things that are always by your side are.

Harry fell to his knees in the old house full of Sirius breath, crying brokenly. For the first time in 16 years, he let go of his voice and wailed, crying convulsively.There was a thick layer of dust on the ground, and no matter what Harry in spirit form could do, he couldn't get it off.The dust covered the traces of Sirius and his smile, leaving only a deserted and empty space.He didn't dare to imagine how Sirius hid in the cave in the north and gnawed on mice, thinking about his godson in the castle in far away Scotland. The cage moves back and forth like a trapped animal.

Harry was howling hysterically, and he was futilely mopping the floor with his hands and sleeves, as if by doing so he would sweep away the dust and return to the busiest time of 12 Grimmauld Place.The only summer he spent with Sirius, so many people were cleaning here, everyone was so happy, Fred and George secretly caught the fox, he didn't even think Mrs. Black's shouting and Kreacher's cursing so annoying...

After an unknown amount of time, Harry was tired from crying, and curled up on the floor weakly, sobbing.He doesn't give a damn about passing time, and if he's a ghost, like Nearly Headless Nick, unable to die again and drifting away, then those hours won't matter at all.Even being here for 100 years is no big deal.This is his sin, and he deserves to be imprisoned here for 1000 years.His impulsiveness ruined everything.Then he died.After losing everything, he has nothing again.

After the sobbing gradually stopped, Harry lay on the ground with empty eyes, not wanting to move.After a while, in the midst of the silence, he seemed to hear a slight whimper, which was not his own.He listened again, breathlessly, sure it wasn't him—it was someone else in the room.

It turned out that Snape hadn't left yet, hadn't returned to his master to claim credit.How many things did he find again, so many that he was crying with joy?But now Harry doesn't seem to care about that anymore.He got up sleepily and was surprised to find that Snape was in the same bedroom with him, and he had been so absorbed in crying that he hadn't heard him come in.Harry walked towards the black figure who was kneeling in the dust on the ground. The slightly trembling figure lost some pressure, as if his back was bent by an invisible pressure.He looked like he was about to snap, to convulse in a sea of ​​pain.

For some reason, Harry felt that the figure in front of him, which carried almost all his hatred, was full of indescribable sadness and fragility.He was really a little curious now.

Snape had obviously rummaged through the room while Harry was crying.Some old letter paper was scattered on the ground. The paper had turned yellow for too long.Harry looked over Snape's shoulder at the letter in his hand, "Will be friends with Gellert Grindelwald. Personally, I think she's a little out of her mind!" These were the words on the paper.The signature is "Love You Lily".

Lily!Mother!Harry forgot that the letter was still in Snape's hand, and couldn't help reaching out to touch it.

It was something left by his mother.He had guessed many times what kind of character his mother was, and now with this letter, he could finally be sure that she must be very cheerful.Her expression is so straightforward.It was a matter of course: she was such a standard Gryffindor.

He used to imagine his mother on many sleepless nights.But looking at this letter at this moment, Harry felt like never before that his mother had actually existed.She has friends, she can complain, cry, and smile. She is not a frozen picture. She has her own way of thinking and mental activities, strong emotions and doubts.That g is the same as his writing style... He has obviously never seen her handwriting.What a powerful, warm genetic...

But before Harry could touch the paper, Snape had carefully folded the letter and stuffed it into his robe pocket.Harry looked disappointedly at his other hand, which held a photograph.Snape was holding the photo, and Harry noticed that a clear liquid dripped on the front of the man's robes, staining a patch of thick black.

Surprised, Harry moved around to Snape's face.But his face was buried too deep to see his expression.Harry looked up to check the ceiling, and of course there was no leak.He stood where he was for a few seconds, feeling a little ridiculous, and walked back to Snape's side, leaning over to look at the old photo in his hand.

Unexpectedly, the photo is of a family of three.They're in a room he doesn't recognize, and a baby of about a year old wobbles on a kid's broomstick, dashing back and forth in and out of the picture.The man who looked almost identical to him laughed heartily, and the red-haired woman laughed too.

These are his parents, that baby must be him!Who took this photo?Maybe it was his godfather, Harry wondered, they had had such a vivid happy time.Snape's long fingers pinched the upper part of the photo and began to tear it in half.

"Stop it! You son of a bitch!" Harry growled, startled and furious.

It was Snape - it was Snape who told Voldemort that prophecy.It was him who had spent so many years in cupboards and endless housework and bullying, and he was not satisfied, and he had to make things difficult for him in class.James just took off Snape's robes, and he wanted revenge, killing the Potter family, even after death, even the portrait!Harry, forgetting that he couldn't touch the human body, stood up suddenly and turned to Snape in front of him, trying to punch him hard on the nose.

Of course Harry missed his punch with all his strength, but instead staggered a step, almost falling onto Snape.The half with James and Harry was thrown into the dust under the cabinet without hesitation by Snape, and he held the half with Lily's smile in his hands as carefully as if holding a treasure.

Harry fell to his knees with the jerk, their knees overlapping now, and he was facing Snape's face.That face was still sallow and sallow, but the eyes were no longer hollow, and the deep pain seemed to be able to suck in all the people who looked at him.Tears rolled down his hooked nose as he stared silently at Lily's face.

Harry braced himself on the floor.Anger mixed with shock, he didn't know what to do for a while.He hesitated for a moment, straightened up and spit in Snape's face, and cursed a few dirty words that he had learned from Dudley when he was very young and had never uttered them.It was very awkward for him to say this dirty word, it was more like embarrassing himself than venting his emotions.

Finding himself bored by berating Snape or pretending to cast hexes on him, Harry shut his mouth slowly.He stepped back a little, crouched a little away from Snape, and looked at the weeping man wordlessly.Snape was quite a bit taller than Harry, but he didn't seem to be anymore.Harry felt that at this moment he was not as good as a house-elf dying of old age.

For a long time now, Harry's attention has been on his brave and wonderful father.It took him six years to piece together a sunny, cheerful, straightforward, prank-loving, Quidditch-loving, righteous and powerful father image from many people.But unlike the talk about his father, few people seem to mention his mother, and the most he hears about his mother is that he has the same green eyes as hers.Hearing it for the first time, he felt warm.He listened more and more, and he gradually got tired of it.In everyone's memory, his mother is just a thin portrait. It seems that what his mother left for him is the blood protection that bound him to the Dursleys, and the bravery and last guardianship as a mother. Only a pair of identical eyes remained.

Harry tried to remember.In addition to what Dumbledore said about his mother protecting him with her life, I can only think of Slughorn often mentioning that his mother's potion grades were excellent during the semester, and that he had learned from Snape's memory in the fifth grade. I saw my mother when I was a child.Harry knew that, in fact, he had not inherited any of his mother's talent for potions, and that he had been cheated of these compliments by this man.For a time, the compliments made him sick.And now, this villain, who was as cruel as a stone sculpture, was crying to mourn his mother here?Although it was far from erasing all of Snape's sins, Harry felt that Snape's impression in his mind had been slightly revised just because he was really a friend of his mother's.He's more like him, even - he's probably his only ally when it comes to Lily Potter.

Harry squatted blankly across from Snape, watching the man in front of him cry silently.He had never seen such a look: the heart-wrenching loneliness and sadness seemed to contain endless words and longings.This kind of gaze should not appear on Snape - if there is a choice of who is the most inhuman besides Voldemort, there is no doubt that it is Snape.But at this point he looked more intense than anyone else.

Snape's thin lips were slightly parted, breathing tremblingly, as if wanting to call a name.The name was on his lips, but he couldn't spit it out smoothly.His hand holding the photo was trembling slightly, and the other hand was on his knee. Perhaps because of the pain, he unconsciously kneaded his robe tightly into a ball.

Harry had never seen such a depth of grief and remembrance from anyone so far, not even from his father's friends.His gaze seemed to be fixed, unable to move away from Snape's face, his mind went blank, and he sat down slowly.

Snape pursed his lips.He let go of the hand that had been tightly clutching the black robe, and held the corner of the photo close to his eyes with both hands.He was still weeping silently, and his body trembled more violently because he refused to make a sound.

Harry looked at Snape.His thoughts whirled slowly and vaguely.In the midst of despair and laziness, he suddenly felt that everyone seemed to be using James Potter as a textbook, as a carrot, leading the donkey named Harry forward.They took advantage of Harry's admiration for James, and subtly influenced him to try to follow in his father's footsteps and become like his father.

Too strange.They seem to be exactly the same.Harry Potter is a remake of James Potter.They have the same Quidditch talent, the same Gryffindor, the same justice and bravery, and even the same Patronus... They never said that Harry has any qualities that belong to him, and he looks like his father , eyes like a mother, all his kindness, all his naughtiness, all his talents, all his bad things are like his parents.So who is Harry Potter?Just the son of James Potter and Lily Potter?A Boy Who Lived who needs to defeat Voldemort?

Has anyone ever truly grieved the death of his parents?But what right does he have to blame others?Even he himself never thought of asking about his parents' little habits, never asked to go to Godric's Hollow even once, and of course never saw his parents' tombstones.He only has photos in his hands, and the photos are the happiest and healthiest parents, and they are always condensed in that short period of time.What were his parents actually like?Is it really as good as everyone says?McGonagall had said his father was naughty, and he was!But he selectively forgot.Maybe Snape was the only one who really regarded his mother as a friend... But why did he tell Voldemort that prophecy?No, he didn't mean to.Dumbledore said that the prophecy referred to Harry and Neville, and he didn't know Harry would be chosen at the time...

"What should I do..." The man on the opposite side spoke softly.

The half-sentence was like thunder, and Harry found his thoughts had wandered too far.He looked at Snape carefully, the man's lips were tightly closed, it seemed that what he said just now did not come from him, but Harry had an auditory hallucination.He looked broken, sad, dazed, terrified—Harry didn't know how he could see so much expression on a face that was in pain, but he just thought he saw it.This guy who has never shown any other emotion except anger and sarcasm is still crying, as if all the factors combined with invisible pressure finally led to the emotional outburst.Of course it can't just be because of missing someone.

that is because--

The man kneeling on the ground sniffed slightly.In a silent room, the voice was sudden and sad.Harry woke up with a start, what was he thinking just now?He was complaining, he was doubting Dumbledore!Harry clutched his knees, trying to slap himself hard, but his whole body was shaking.

Obviously, I was still missing Dumbledore just now, mourning all the people who died for the light of the wizarding world, why now I am starting to excuse the culprit who killed them?It was because of his lack of willpower that he was bewitched.How could he think of defending a Death Eater who had cheated Dumbledore of his trust and killed Dumbledore and his parents?Snape couldn't be missing, but guilty.No, how could a Death Eater like him, who had been drenched in black magic, feel guilty?He must have killed more than that one more.This one is even honored on his kill list.Snape must have used a spell to cause him to hallucinate, yes, it must be...

Harry rubbed his face vigorously.He decided to put all the blame and hatred on Snape first.He could complain, but not now.Looking at everything calmly is the most important thing he should do now. He urgently needs reason at this time.He has to find a target to vent all negative emotions, all unreasonable things, all confusion, and he can wait and then slowly seek answers.

After a moment, Snape moved.He raised his hand and wiped his face with his sleeve without grace.He raised the photo to his lips, as if he wanted to kiss, but hesitated, pursed his lips and put down his hand.He put the photo in his arms like a letter, he stood up, looked around the room for the last time, turned around and walked down the stairs.

In order not to be as embarrassed as before, Harry followed him and stood up resignedly.He gripped the doorframe reluctantly, trying to get one last solid memory of where Sirius had lived before the suction took hold of him.If he had to follow Snape, he would never have the chance to enter this room again until the Death Eater died.Someone from the Order of the Phoenix will definitely cast a spell here.But the door rang, and there was only a dead silence in the room, and Harry didn't follow.

Harry froze for a moment, and ran to the window to look out.The man in the black robe had already walked out of the area where apparition was prohibited, and disappeared to nowhere.

Harry stared at the empty square for a moment.He hated that man, but he left him now.Originally, Harry thought that being with Snape all his life was a more terrifying nightmare than his life, but now there was no Snape he had never seen before, no one to bear his curiosity, anger and hatred, and the sudden silence made him I'm not used to it.He had to admit that he'd rather be with Snape than be stuck somewhere forever, even if he had to watch him sleep or take a shower.

Harry looked down, still confused about his state.He doesn't think he is a ghost, he can always see ghosts, ghosts and ghosts are milky white, they are the imprints left by departed souls on the world, and they can be seen by others.The unpleasant question from Defense Against the Dark Arts class seemed to still be in his ears. At that time, he thought that the question itself was meaningless, because ghosts and Inferi could only be distinguished at a glance.He feels that no matter what they are, as long as he can master the method of defeating them, he doesn't care about anything.If only he had listened carefully and understood ghosts, or the nature and state of existence of souls.He has endless time now, but he can't touch any of the books, let alone open them.

Harry shook his head.Maybe he could talk to the Hogwarts ghost?Maybe there was a way to make someone see him.He still had to go to school, and he had to find Snape, who would take him to the Death Eaters stronghold.He had to find a way to report that even if he died, he couldn't watch the Death Eaters rule the British wizarding world.That is the peace he has sacrificed so much, so many people sacrificed so much to maintain it...

Harry gritted his teeth.After making his decision, he turned back into a brave Gryffindor.His moving speed is about the same as when he had a body, although he won't get tired, by the time he runs back to Hogwarts from here, it is estimated that the next semester will have already started.But if a ghost, or something as unknown as himself, could also actively disapparate, he could go back to Hogwarts in no time.Yes, he has to go back, go back now, maybe there is still time to see the principal who has led him for so long for the last time.

He will be successful.He could feel every part of his body as if they were still there.Even if he fails to split, at least he can have a head left.He waved back the hesitation that swept through his heart, and tried to float out of the window.

Flying through solid objects and falling from heights is a new experience.Apart from the ghosts and Peeves, he was probably the only one Harry knew who had had this experience.The savior is always special, Harry smiled self-deprecatingly, he couldn't feel the surge of his magic power now.He raised his smudged hand, pretending to hold a wand, channeling his own magical Apparition out of nowhere with the feeling of using spells for many years.

The ground underfoot twisted.Harry couldn't figure out where he was, he seemed to be standing still, and he seemed to be on his way to Hogwarts, the connection between himself and his body parts that he could feel just now was gone.In the next second, he felt the pain.It wasn't a squeeze like being stuffed into a pipe, it was limbs being ripped apart in opposite directions.The severe pain overwhelmed all will in an instant, Harry resisted the pull of the space, trying to stop the painful process, but he couldn't.He writhed and screamed uncontrollably, feeling as if his head had been crushed and his neck had probably been torn off.He succumbed to the pain and passed out.

The author has something to say: I changed the photo, if you can only see James' feet running back and forth, how did Lily's smile get into the photo... 囧.