Work Text:
Freedom of the Mask 3: Gifts
by DaronwyK
It was nearly dark when Harry's vision began to fade...making him pull his glasses from his pocket and slip them on reluctantly. He was sitting up on the roof of the Astronomy Tower, his broomstick beside him. Of all the gifts he had received this year, and would receive, this was the most precious to him. Severus had given him almost a full day of unclouded sight, far more than he'd expected.
He'd walked through the Forbidden Forest with the wonder of a child, seeing things more beautifully than he'd ever dreamed. He'd taken his broomstick out and soared through the icy winter air, seeing the world shrink far below but still in sharp clear focus...bringing tears to his eyes at the sheer beauty of it. He'd never dreamed it would be so beautiful. As it left him he felt tears begin to fall again.
"Thank you Severus." He whispered to the wind. He wished he could have given his professor something so wonderful, but didn't know where to begin. He realized just how little of the man he really knew. Severus Snape was the most secretive person he'd ever known, and guarded himself well. He likened the man to Hogwarts itself, forbidding and impressive but holding a wealth of knowledge, magic and dark secrets. Harry wondered if he'd ever know what really went on in the man's head.
He picked up his broom and flew down from the tower, circling back to earth. He walked back inside and up to the Gryffindor common room. He ignored most of the people he passed...as had become his habit of late. The less attached he was to them; the less it would hurt to lose them. He'd learned that lesson last year...a lesson that had cost him dearly.
He leaned against the wall of the corridor and closed his eyes. He remembered that night as if it had only happened yesterday. Voldemort had attacked openly, striking in the middle of the last Hogsmeade weekend of last year. He'd not done it to try and kill his enemy this time, he'd done it to prove a point. Harry had been imprisoned in a spell that the younger wizard had never heard of...the Ambreas Charm. It encased your enemy in a pillar of solid crystal completely unharmed and aware...but in a kind of suspended animation.
Voldemort had struck down so many that day. Among the fallen had been his best friend, Ron Weasley. When the teachers had arrived and freed him he had cried and screamed for what had seemed like days. The image was burned into his mind, Ron's body lying broken at Voldemort's feet. It was the first time he had ever felt true rage. It was still curled inside him, cold and relentless. He *would* avenge Ron, and Voldemort would pay ever so dearly.
Harry straightened and took a deep breath to still his anger, hiding it again before entering the common room. Hermione would see it, she always did, but by now she knew better than to question him about it. He merely spared her a short nod and went up the stairs to his room.
After several explosions of his temper Harry had been given a room of his own, heavily warded to contain any unintended spills of power. He sat on his bed and lay back. How could a day of such...joy have turned to thoughts of pain so easily? Last night had been the first night of true happiness he'd felt in a very long time. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and wondered if Severus had felt the same joy last night as he had, if it would be a fond memory for his potion's master in the darker days of their fight with Voldemort.
There was a rustle by his window and he went to open it, smiling as Hedwig flew in. He took her on his arm and stroked her feathers, letting her affectionately nip at his fingers. Some nights he thought she was the one creature on this earth that loved him purely for being himself. He was not the naïve little boy that Albus Dumbledor had taken under his wing seven years ago. He knew that he was only useful as a tool against the Dark Lord, and nothing more.
"OW!" he cried out as Hedwig nipped his nose, startling him from his unhappy thoughts...and drawing his eyes to the letter tied to her leg. He untied it gently and put her on her stand, giving her some fresh water and a few owl treats.
He sat in his chair by the little fireplace and ran his fingers over the unfamiliar seal. He did recognize the elegant yet sharp script. 'Harry Potter'. He smiled a little to himself and cast a quick charm, just in case his professor meant to test him. He opened the letter and was surprised at the length of it.
H.
I believe it is time to let go of the past, and for me to end my thinking of you as simply your father's son and nothing more substantial than that. There is very little of him in you anymore...you are far more like your mother of late, you have the same wonder for life that she possessed. Even though current circumstances have forced you to protect yourself more than a man of your age should. I am certain she would have been proud of you, should she have lived to see you grown.
And you are grown, so I shall not treat you as a child. Last night we both made a choice to surrender ourselves to a greater power than the one we wield. The consequences were that we were drawn together and shared a beautiful night. I've never been good at expressing my inner thoughts and feelings to others, I am sure you can ascertain the why of that even with your limited intelligence.
As was fitting of the gift you gave to me so freely last night I tried to give you something as precious today and I trust you used it well. Wizarding rituals aside, I wanted to give you a taste of what I felt last night since I cannot tell you in words what it meant to me.
In the months to come there will be precious little time for self enjoyment. Learn this lesson well, take what happiness you can, never question it too closely or hold onto it too hard. If you grasp at smoke, it will always slip through your fingers even as the scent will linger in your mind. It will fill you up and warm you inside when the nights alone grow too cold to bear.
~S.S.
Harry folded the letter up again and stared into the fire, letting the memory fill him up...and imagined the man's voice whispering those words to him again. Yes, it was time to let go of the past, his heart was heavy enough without thinking on past conflicts that meant nothing now. He had to focus on his duty, and that little pleasure he'd felt would ease his heart as he had to do it.
(tbc)