Eleven Years Later

The summer heat hung over the platform at King's Cross station, where the Hogwarts Express steam trains were disembarking their last passengers.

Severus Snape was tired and his shoulders were heavy, but he watched the students saying goodbye to each other after another school year. The excited voices and laughter seemed distant to him, who was immersed in his own thoughts. He had fulfilled his role.

Another year, the same routine; a dance between duty and detachment, which Snape had mastered perfectly. But that day, something else was in the air, which is why he had come here. In the distance, as the parents gathered to welcome their children, he saw her.

Lily Potter, she was more beautiful than he remembered, with a wide smile and eyes shining emerald green. Beside her was James Potter, still the same even though his hair was starting to leave his head, but still with his confident posture. And between them, the young boy with disheveled hair and round glasses. His first-year student, Harry Potter.

Snape felt a pang of resentment tug at his mind, but he quickly suppressed it. It wasn't his nature to dwell on such emotions, and at least he got to see Lily once more.

It was then that she looked at him and gave a slight nod.

A discreet and gentle gesture, but it made Snape's heart beat faster for a moment. But before he could react, he saw James approaching.

"Severus," James began, his voice calmer than Snape had expected. "I need to thank you." Snape frowned.

"Thank you for what?" he asked, keeping his tone controlled, trying to avoid any unnecessary interaction.

James let out a sigh, his eyes showing an unusual sincerity for Snape.

"For everything you did for us, eleven years ago." He paused, seeming to measure his words. "I never got the chance to thank you." Snape remained silent, confusion growing inside him. What was James talking about?

"I… I also wanted to apologize," James continued, looking briefly at the floor. "For what I did to you when we were children, for how I treated you all those years. It wasn't right. I'm sorry."

Shock ran through Snape like a current. James Potter was apologizing? Something seemed out of place, but he maintained his teacherly composure.

"Are you busy tonight?" James continued, changing the subject with a smile. "We're having a party, nothing big, just the teachers and a few friends. Dumbledore has already confirmed it. We thought you'd like it, a good start to the holidays. It would be good to have you there."

Snape crossed his arms, pursing his lips.

"I have other matters to attend to, Potter," he lied coldly, trying to end the conversation.

But James didn't give up. He got up from the carry-on bag he was carrying and took out a cloak.

"I almost forgot." — James said, holding out the cloak to Snape. — Here, this is yours. The cloak you lent us that night to escape.

Snape looked at the cloak without understanding.

"What does this mean? Is this another one of your jokes, Potter?" Snape asked, his voice full of suspicion.

"This is the cloak you lent us," James explained. "So we could escape Voldemort eleven years ago. And there's one more thing. It's here."

He took a small vial from inside the cloak, along with a folded piece of parchment. James handed both to Snape.

The note contained only one sentence: "Return it to me in eleven years."

"What is this?" Snape asked, unable to hide his perplexity.

"It was inside the cloak. A pocket sewn inside."

James answered simply, pointing to the vial that contained a silver drop. "I've never touched it, Lily forbade me. But the time has come... it's time to return it to you."

Snape, confused and reluctant, took the vial and the note. The liquid seemed to pulse in his hand. He looked at James, who was smiling once more.

"See you at the party? And... thank you for everything, Severus," James said, before turning and walking back to Lily and Harry.

Snape stood there, alone in the middle of the emptying station, with the cloak in one hand and the vial in the other. What did that mean? What had happened eleven years ago that resulted in the death of Lord Voldemort?

With a last look at the Potter family, Snape clutched the cloak to his chest and put the vial in his pocket.

The past had strange ways of returning, and that night, eleven years ago, still seemed to hold unanswered secrets, he thought as he Apparated.

Hours later, Severus Snape was walking slowly down the road that led to the Potter residence.

The soft wind carried the sound of distant laughter, but his mind was elsewhere. His eyes could see the street, but his thoughts were stuck on what he had seen moments before in the pensieve

 Each step he took made him recall the memory contained in that last tear. As his shoes brushed the stone floor, his mind returned to the moment he had poured the silver liquid into the pensieve. Watching the ripples and shapes that the drop created.

The memories formed slowly, bringing him a feeling of discomfort as he looked at his reflection.

His steps slowed, he was approaching, still hesitant to continue. That was when he looked out the window and saw Lily. From inside she came with a smile on her face. Without waiting, she wrapped him in a long hug.

The unexpected gesture brought out a mixture of tenderness and guilt in Severus, who remained awkward, his hands hovering in the air before giving in to her embrace.

As soon as Lily let him go, greetings came from Arthur and Molly Weasley. Sirius was sitting on the sofa, nodding at him. Then he was surrounded by Alice and Frank Longbottom, only to receive a caress on the face from Augusta, the grandmother of his student Neville. Neville was also there, running around the room while Ginny shook a doll behind him.

Only then did Severus realize that there was music playing in the background. In a corner, the Weasley twins were telling jokes, making Hermione and Ron laugh, while Lupin joined them with a smile on his face and hugging James.

Dumbledore, in his blue robe and with a long beard, greeted Severus before going to the kitchen for another glass of brandy. Severus sat on the sofa next to Hagrid. His eyes ran to Lily, radiant in a red dress that highlighted her hair, gesturing enthusiastically as she said something to Alice.

Across the room James laughed loudly. Sirius jumped off the floor like a dog and turned back into a human on the table, causing a storm of laughter from the children. He picked up a glass in his hands, sharing a story that Snape had no interest in hearing.

And then Snape saw Harry.

With green eyes and glasses falling down his nose. Snape's mind spun and his thoughts returned to the Pensieve. They returned to the man behind the tear. Harry.

Not the boy from his first year at Hogwarts, but an older Harry, an adult. The scar on his forehead was deep and shaped like a lightning bolt, the mark he earned for surviving. That Harry had been through hell, watching everyone around him die. But not him. He was the chosen one, the boy who lived.

Snape turned his eyes to the young Harry, running around the room, laughing and playing with Ron and Hermione. The sight was strange, especially when his mind brought him back to the Harry from the Pensieve, the Harry who sacrificed his life for them.

Sitting on the couch, Snape couldn't stop his thoughts that wandered without control, until the two scenes seemed to merge into one.

Snape looked at the floor with an expression of pain and then those words came back to his ears. Harry's words to him;

"I blamed you for a long time, Severus. Until the moment I had to wear your cloak, step into your shoes. Until I had to live with the consequences of my actions, my mistakes. Just as you lived with yours. But it was thanks to you that I was able to get here, and for that I thank you, professor. I know your life was not easy, mine was not either."

Snape stared into the void as the laughter and conversation of the adults filled the house. Then he turned his eyes to observe everyone around him. Hermione. Ron. James. Lily — that peace, that happiness — all of this was only possible because of him, because of Harry. Snape felt a lump in his throat, but he kept his face impassive, even as his heart weighed in his chest.

Those final words Harry had spoken to him in the Pensieve, echoing in his mind as he watched young Harry laugh without a care.

I will be forgotten by everyone, but I think you are strong enough to carry me in your memory, professor. You've always been the best at keeping secrets. I'll turn the time-turner, I'll go back to that day, and I'll fix everything. — Snape took a deep breath and, with one last look at the happiness that reigned in that house, he whispered to himself those last words of Harry Potter. With his voice full of a sadness that he rarely allowed himself to feel, he repeated them — The phoenix rises from the ashes, Snape. And with it, hope.

Snape closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the words. "A new chance," he whispered. "Just one chance."

Written by Gilson Vilain Machado