Bonding

Happy New Year

"What are your plans for tonight Harry?" Hermione questions him as she clears the table of dishes. It's five years after the battle of Hogwarts and it's new years eve. Hermione and Ron married earlier in the year, Ginny and Draco surprisingly married soon after. Currently, Harry has felt like a third wheel around everyone. Normal he's busy with work, being an Auror takes a lot of work. But tonight he had off and Kingsly banned him from the office until the new year. He couldn't believe it. Kinglsy was forcing him to have a life.

"I don't know, might just go for a walk," he says as he places his plate in the sink.

"You know you could just stay here and celebrate with us mate," Ron tells him as he comes in the kitchen holding a champagne glass that's halfway full.

"No thanks. No offence, but I wouldn't want to spoil your night,"

"Oh Harry you wouldn't be spoiling our night," Hermione pleads him.

"Hermione, you're a great friend but, I've just been feeling like a third wheel to the both of you. Maybe I just need to find someone," He says as he grabs his coat and heads for the fireplace. "And besides, I may find a date tonight," and with that, he was off and back to his flat. After the battle, Harry didn't want to move into Sirius's old place, and instead permanently gave it up to the Order and found a flat that was a little secluded in the woods, but easy to find if you looked.

He stumbled out of the opening and barely caught himself before he fell. He looked around his gloomy flat to find a letter sitting on his coffee table. Curious, he walked over to it but stopped before his hand could touch it. He recognized this handwriting. He knew it all too well. This was the handwriting of his former potions professor who supposedly died five years ago during the battle of Hogwarts. Harry, not coping with the death well wrote to him. He knew or thought he knew, that once he mailed it the owl would drop it off at his grave and that would be that. He only wrote it and sent it about a week ago. He talked about how he first when he met him, how his feelings changed in the fifth year due to the occumlency lessons. He talked about how he felt during the sixth year with Dumbledors death, how he felt while travelling and the whole battle. He thanked him for the memories he gave him and said he forgave him for all he did to protect him. He knew Snape sacrificed many things for Harry, and all he did in return was hate the man. The letter contained three whole pages of parchment and he sent it off, expecting no reply. But here, on new years eve, just about a week later, sat a reply from said potions master. He walked on shaky legs, sitting down on the couch and taking a few deep breaths before he reached forward and took hold of the letter, tearing into the envelope and reading the contents. But all there was, was two words.

"Asphodel wormwood?" The minute he said that he felt a familiar pull in his stomach and soon he found himself whisked away from his flat and to somewhere else. He landed hard on the floor of another house. This one was brighter looking than his own. Not by much, but there was more light in this one. He looked around to find many bookshelves, a grand fireplace, and a potions master sitting on a couch with a potions journal in one hand.

"Snape?"

"Seems you're as graceful as ever when it comes to port keys," he sneered in his usual baritone voice as he flipped a page not even bothering to look up.

"I... you.....what......." he kept stuttering while looking at the man before him even though the man before him was really paying him no mind at all.

"Still a stuttering buffoon as always I see Mr Potter?" He said as he turned the page again. Potter, gathering his wits, finally mutters out a full sentence.

"You're alive?"

"I would certainly hope so," was his reply.

"B-but I watched you die," Harry retorts taking another step closer to the man. That's when he finally puts down the potions journal and faces him.