Chapter Fourteen: Redeemed Faith

Months passed quickly, and all of a sudden homework and essays were pilling up one after another. Harry found himself succumbing under stacks of scrolls and parchments along with Ron, fighting against time to finish writing with whatever books they could find as reference as Hermione refused to let them borrow hers.

As the homework piled up more and more, the professors became even stricter, and the students realized with growing horror that there were no end to how strict they could become.

Headmistress Mcgonagall-or Professor, as she was called during classes, issued them to write four nine inches essays about Transfiguration on top with completely mastering all the spells that were used.

Professor Silviam had increased the number of marks deducted on each house if any if the students failed his standards. Even Professor Binns, the ghost who thought History, was making them write parchments after parchments of notes.

All the younger students had learned to avoid the seventh-years in the fear of facing their wrath. As they began to prepare for their first examination, the tension was clear in the school. Due to lack of sleep as there were too many work piling up, dark eyebags were now a common thing, including being quick to temper. More than once, they had accidentally bumped into seventh-years who had their nose stuck in a thick book only to get yelled at. Of course, apologies were given, but one learned to be careful after the occasion.

To Harry's despair, there was no longer time to visit the Tower to gaze at the stars, and the only time he saw Draco nowadays was during Potion classes, or sometimes he would catch a glimpse of him in other classes. He looked worse, but it seemed that he would be fine, to Harry's relief. Nowadays, everyone was at their worse with stress. And his stargazing was put on a hold, it had been an accident when he wandered to the Tower and found out that stargazing calmed him down.

Headmistress McGonagall had said that the seventh-years would no longer be part of the Quidditch, but of course, that doesn't stop them from using the broom when the place was empty, or Jordan from being the emcee when the games start, much to the Headmistress annoyance.

With the only exception was,  Harry.

Whenever they were up there soaring in the air, Harry would escape into the library, or any other places to avoid seeing them. He was escaping from the terror, and partly, escaping the others from his profound bitterness and loss.

Now, his coordinations were better, but sometimes he would found himself unable to hold some things as the distance was greater than he judged. At least, of course, it was better than the first time when he knew the truth. It was a growing parasite inside of him, dark and cloudy that reminded him with wary awareness of the way some people still looked at him.

Heaving a sigh as he noticed the time, he woke up a drooling Ron. Right now, he had a Potion class to attend. Hermione had already packed her things and left, class schedule seemed to have been hectic for her lately; with the exception of her Transfiguration scroll.

Harry grinned victuriously, he knew Hermione would give in sooner or later, they had been bothering her quite a lot lately.

Dragging a barely awake Ron with him, they took the path that leaded to the Potion class.

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Exsparated, Professor Silviam looked at the students before him from his desk. Usually, the students would paired up and sit along side their partners that he had chosen from his ever watchful eye, but today, it seemed that all of them have forgotten about the whole thing. Instead, they were sitting according to their houses.

He watched the scene before him with humour. The Gryffindors huddled together with more than half of them with their heads on the table snoring loudly and the others dropping off tiredly.

The normally energetic Ravenclaws were all doodling on their parchments while mumbling notes and important words to themselves like a maniac and their eyebrows furrowed.

The laid back Hufflepuffs seemed to be reiging in their tempers with much needed control, he had no doubt they would explode in a flash if someone said something nasty to them.

And the Slytherins looked like they would murder anyone in a wand fight if someone just glance at them.

All in all, there was no way he could teach them today.

Rolling his eyes to the heavens above, he spoke to the students in front of him.

"Normally I would brew all of you energized potions, but seeing how tired all of you are, I'll just let all of you sleep. I won't give homework today."

Almost immediately nearly all of them collapsed on their desk while some of them mumbled their 'thanks, professor' as he held back his chuckle.

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Harry found himself wandering in unknown corridors before he would be faced with his homework. He was always reminded daily how large Hogwarts was. Even Dumbledore had said himself that he never knew all the secrets Hogwarts have. They had more free time now that Defence against Dark Arts were canceled for seventh-years. It wasn't because the Ministry this time, for it was them that protested against learning it. They only had one year before they would all go on their seperste ways to find their jobs, and they didn't want to learn the spells anymore than they wanted to relieve the past.

That was when he saw a familiar figure on one of the portraits hanging.

The same jet black hair, same robes, same crooked nose.

"Severus Snape?" He questioned out loud.

Turning to look at the green-eyed boy in front if him, he sneered. "Why, its the Potter boy. What do you want now? The real me is dead, so I supposed you wanted to express your hatred to my portrait now?"

Harry blinked. He was relief that Snape's potrait still behaved the way the real him would, but of course, Snape would have visited his portraits several times before his death.

"Thank you."

Snape reared back with surprise as Harry spoke.

"Thank you for your sacrifice. I know you did it for my mum, but I wanted to say thank you for the both of us."

Snape's beady eyes stared back at him. "You've changed, boy."

Harry gave a bitter smile. "The War changed all of us."

Snape stared at him for a long time before saying softly. "It wasn't just for her, you know. Lily. It was for me as well, in some ways."

Harry replied. "I hope you're well, Snape."

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Severus Snape stared at the retreating figure. There was a distant look in his eyes, but even he, could not argue the sincerity in him when he said "Thank you." There was a significant change in him, but it looks like his friends haven't notice it.

He said after the boy. "You should visit Dumbledore. He's waiting for you."

His steps halted as Harry felt Snape's gaze burning on his back.

"I will." He resumed his pace. "Some day."

Snape watched him walk away as the shadows casted itself on him, making him seemed hazy in the light as his footsteps resounded in the corridors.

Shaking his head slightly, Snape walked towards another portrait, leaving the current one empty.

Merry Christmas!!!  Presenting this chapter as a gift

School's starting next week, so I should be able to cramp another chapter in before then. Wishing everyone Merry Christmas