A new beginning

Waking up in the hospital wing

I know this was a terribly long wait for an update, and I am sorry.

I ended up rewriting the chapter so many times because I felt like I was not staying true to the characters. Therefore, I hope you like and enjoy it.

...

The pounding in his head was growing stronger the longer he stayed where he was, but Harry was sure that opening his eyes would not be a good idea. He took a deep breath. His muscles ached, all the way from his neck to the tip of his toes.

Another breath and the memories of the night before rushed through his head. He could remember Quirell's skin burning under his touch, the mirror, and the stone, but most importantly, a black-cladded man running towards him as he lost consciousness. He was not certain, he could have been dreaming or hallucinating, but he could have sworn it was Snape. He wanted it to be Snape.

That surely meant he had gone mad. There was no reason whatsoever he should want for Snape to be the one running to save him. But he did. Even after what he learned before going after the stone.

Snape gave up on him. He walked out. Knowing that hurt the most. He trusted Snape. Trusted him to be different from the other adults.

...

Harry opened his eyes and for the briefest of seconds he could not remember where he was. But then, just as quickly, it all came back.

He looked around the room, finding the enclosed room in the infirmary empty. He sat up, groaning lightly at the soreness in his body. There was a bandage on one of his hands, but other than that, he seemed unharmed. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and giving himself just a second to make sure he had his balance, he stood up.

"Get back in bed," said a deep voice that Harry recognized a little too well. He looked up and saw Snape pushing the curtain around his bed open.

"No," Harry replied, making no attempt to continue walking. Snape raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, he took another step forward, letting the curtain fall behind him.

"I feel fine." Harry felt his cheeks burning under the intensity of the professor's gaze. He could see Snape's chest rising under each strong breath, and that was making him nervous.

"You," said Snape, ignoring the child's claim completely and pointing a finger in Potter's direction, "have some explaining to do."

Harry snorted and looked at the opposite wall in the room. If anyone needed to explain it was the professor. He had nothing to say to the man. Nothing at all. Snape, on the other hand, should begin by explaining exactly what he was doing talking to Dumbledore, in the middle of the night, about him. Besides, he didn't need their concern thank you very much. He was capable enough to take care of himself. He even defeated Voldemort and got the Philosopher's stone. Sure, that had not been his original intention earlier that same evening. He probably would not have even done it if it was not because he happened to go to Snape's office moments before heading down the trap door, but he did it. He got the stone and solved the mystery behind who was after it, with no help from any adult. Only Hermione and Ron. No one else.

Snape lowered his finger, staring straight at the child. Taking in the annoyance portrayed in the small face before him. He took a deep breath. They were not going to get anywhere if their tempers continued to get the best out of them. He wanted to apologize, no matter how much bile the mere thought brought to his mouth. He needed to make Potter see his side of the story before it was too late before the child could somehow find a way to blame himself. Another breath.

A few minutes passed by, both Snape and Harry frozen in their spots until the sound of robes brushing against the floor broke through the silence. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Snape move over to the curtain-free part of the room. The professor stood in front of the window, looking out. Harry could not help to notice Snape looked tired as if he had not had a good rest in a long time.