Harry Potter's Visum et Disiderium

A/N: Duh da dan duh! I feel a bit like Hagrid in the PoA movie, lol. Ah I love the smell of a fresh sequel in the morning..err.. nighttime. Okay, for those of you who are new, or couldn't read the summary, this is a sequel to my other story Harry Potter and the Alucinor Dicio... read that first! Otherwise you'll be all kinds of confused. My loyal readers, I probably won't be updating as frequently as I did on my previous story. Look for about a chapter a week... sorry! Review and love me anyway? BIG thanks go to my beta, Alex, *everyone clap now!* I was super nervous about this and he made me feel MUCH better about it, lol. Review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write for practice not profit.

“Battle not with monsters

lest ye become a monster

and if you gaze into the abyss

the abyss gazes into you.”

- Friedrich Nietzsche

Chapter One - Colwyn Bay

Harry Potter lay in his narrow twin bed staring at the ceiling. Once again his sleep had been disturbed by mental images of what had occurred outside Hogwart's a month ago. It seemed as though every time Harry closed his eyes he would see the fire, flashes of burning flesh, and the expression on Hermione's face as she fell after being struck forcefully by Voldemort. It wasn't as if Harry was a stranger to nightmares, on the contrary he was more accustomed to them than any boy his age ought to be, but lately the flashes had been affecting his waking hours as well.

It had been three weeks since he had arrived in Colwyn Bay to stay with his godmother Rowen and her husband. Harry fell in love with the small seaside town that bustled with people at it's center, while still seemingly desolate towards it's outskirts. Rowen's house was on a small avenue located just outside the town, and it had a clear view of the Bay from it's front windows. Harry glanced out the bay windows at the sea as he thought about it. The water had been immensely comforting to him, he found the sound of the sea waves crashing on the shore soothing as he lay awake most nights. It was peaceful and repetitive, and helped Harry to not think.

To not think about the fact that he had not written a single letter to his best friend, to not think that his girlfriend had been similarly neglected by him. Every time Harry sat to write either Ron or Hermione, he could not make himself write the lies they needed to hear right now.

Dear Ron,

Everything is fine. Really enjoying my vacation. Not thinking at all about how I murdered two people a month ago, even though they deserved it.

Right. That would be taken well. As Harry well knew, his best mate Ron was a great friend who was really loyal to Harry, but Ron had certain avoidance issues when it came to discussing anything emotional or difficult to handle. Harry, right at this moment was both emotional and difficult to handle. Most likely Ron was doing his best to forget what he had witnessed Harry do last year, and Harry could only wish that he too could forget.

Hermione, well, she was an entirely different story. Harry loved her a great deal, and felt very guilty for the worry and pain she must be feeling at his lack of communication, but she didn't even know what had happened last year, since she had been unconscious at the time. Harry did not seem to have the words to tell her what was going through his mind at the moment, and he didn't want to placate her with false words that she would see right through, so he chose silence and hurt her even more in the meantime. He had even had to stuff the pendant she had gotten him last year for his birthday in his sock drawer, as she had charmed it to communicate with him. He had heard her voice several times, whispering through the Merlin pendant before he could no longer take it and shoved it as far as he could into the drawer, next to some socks that Dobby had given him two years previously.

Harry had opened all of their letters though, it seemed to be his own personal punishment to read the bewildered ( in Ron's case) and increasingly frantic ( that would be Hermione) letters. With each owl that flew to his window Harry's feelings would sink that much lower. His time of avoidance and peace would be coming to an end soon though, as his birthday was approaching and Rowen would have a party for him come hell or high water.

Harry was trying to concentrate on one of the apparition lessons Rowen had been giving him. He would be tested on the day of his birthday and he and Rowen were discussing this as he practiced. Rowen wanted to hold a party for Harry, either here or at the Burrow after he passed his test. Harry was more reluctant however.

“Harry, it's your 17^th birthday, you'll be of age, it's huge... I mean why wouldn't you want to celebrate?” Harry did everything he could to avoid Rowen's eyes as she spoke to him, his face an impassive wall.

“I just don't need a big party... it's just a birthday.” Harry muttered quietly. Rowen eyed Harry critically before speaking.

“I know you won't tell me what's wrong, and I won't push you before you are ready Harry. This is your birthday though, and you can make an exception for one day. Besides Hermione will be arriving then anyway, so you'll have to deal with it one way or another.” Rowen stated with a tone of finality that indicated the discussion was over.

Rowen. She seemed to be the one person who understood that all he wanted was to be left alone. She had not pressured him in any way to talk since his arrival. Neither had her husband, Severus Snape. If someone had told Harry a year ago that his godmother would be in his life, married to Snape and a parent to Harry's goddaughter Ria, Harry would have stood in shock before bursting out laughing. So many things had changed over the last year though, that Harry could hardly take it in.

Voldemort was dead. Gone. Harry had defeated him a month ago outside Hogsmeade. He was a hero to the wizarding world, which was still celebrating it's victory.

A high pitched scream echoed as a blackened hand reached out as though to grab Harry.

Harry shook his head quickly. These thoughts seemed like they would never leave his head. Harry tried to quiet his breathing as he listened to the sounds of the sea and the creaks of the house settling. It's no good, Harry thought, I need some air. Harry bolted up from his bed, opening his door and creeping down the stairs before the thought had fully formed. Harry took his care to be quiet, as Ria was sleeping in her nursery. Harry knew that Rowen cast charms on the room to prevent outside noises to penetrate, but he still felt the need to creep all the same.

Finally Harry found himself on the large brick patio, he threw himself into one of the wooden chairs and stared up at the inky black sky. The moon poured a slight silvery light over the yard, before reflecting off of the water a few yards away. Harry tilted his head back fully , to better see the stars that dotted the sky like fairy lights. Harry often felt as if he just wanted to go sleep and be woken up when this was all over. If it ever will be over for me. He did not hear anyone approach until a voice spoke behind him.

“Stargazing. Harry? I can't imagine you starting so early on your Astronomy homework.” Snape's silky voice issued from behind him. Harry jumped in his seat before turning to his potions professor.

“ Just thinking, sir.” Harry stated. At Snape's arched eyebrow he added, “ Sorry , Severus.”

“Quite alright, Harry. It takes getting used to I'm sure.” Snape spoke somewhat sarcastically, although to be fair, most things he said were somewhat sarcastic. Despite having married Rowen and mellowing considerably since the birth of his daughter, some things would never change.

“ Did I wake you sir?” Harry asked somewhat bluntly. Snape however, took no offense and seated himself in the chair next to Harry's.

“As a rule, Harry, I have tried to stay out of your business this summer. We all have our own scars to deal with from the final battle.” Snape's eyes gazed off as he spoke, and Harry knew that he was thinking of Draco Malfoy, who had died at Snape's hand in the battle. “ However, Rowen has become increasingly worried about you. Now she is trying to let you be, assuming that you will come to her when you are ready. I know better than that.”

Harry made a motion as though to protest this, but sank in acceptance at Snape's glare. “Rowen thinks that you will be able to work through this if left alone long enough. You won't though will you? Being alone is not the way to deal with it Harry. I don't presume to know what happened in that clearing, but I'm not so naive as to not know what may have happened. You need to talk to someone Harry. If not Rowen, then at the very least Dumbledore.” Harry had sat quietly through the whole speech, but at mention of Dumbledore he exploded in anger.

“Why would I speak to him about it? He knows what happened! He was there! He WATCHED! No one understands what I've done. I killed a man, two men! YES they were evil, but I should have been better than them. No one has seen what I've seen and don't YOU sit there and try to tell me what I should and should not DO!” Harry was hollering at Snape but the words died in his throat when he looked up and saw the look of complete fury on Snape's face.

“No Potter! You think no one understands how it feels to be a good man committing an evil act? What do you think I've lived with for the last 20 years? Do you think that Deatheater meetings were discussions of how to best take over the world while we sipped brandy? There were torturings, for fun! Muggles who were killed slowly in front of us for amusement! And if that was all they did then that was a lucky Muggle! Do not presume to think, once again, that the world revolves around yourself and your problems alone, Potter!” Snape spoke in a low, furious tone. Harry felt all of his anger drain out of him at Snape's well deserved diatribe. Harry was not the only one who'd suffered during this war.

“ I'm sorry sir.” Harry said, instantly contrite. “ you're right, I am thinking of only me, and I apologize for not considering..” Harry was cut off by a wave of Snape's hand.

“No Harry, I shouldn't have reacted like that. Rowen would kill me if she had heard that, I came out here to try to help not hurt you. My temper you know..” Snape trailed off as Harry watched him. Harry was more than familiar with the Potions Master's temper having been subjected to six years of it in class. Harry sat, silently waiting for Snape to continue.

“I suppose Harry I foolishly came out here thinking I could give you... advice. I have dealt with what you are feeling for a very long time. Nights when you feel so absolutely evil and tired that you wish it would just stop and end. Life, Harry, is filled with large, life altering moments in which your decisions affect every aspect of your being.” Snape's voice seemed almost wrung out as he spoke, as if just discussing the matter reminded him too much of the darkness within himself.

“I have learned that without those decisions, I would not be where I am today. Regrets Harry, are a waste of energy. I know you cannot see far enough ahead right now, but you will be able to look back someday and see this not as the moment that destroyed you but as the moment that defined you. You did not harm anyone until it came time to destroy evil. This does not make you evil yourself.” Harry had listened quietly as Snape spoke. Harry did not agree with what Snape was saying but he did listen hoping to gain some type of insight from the man.

“ Just... think about it Harry. Don't shut people who are only trying to help you out just because you don't feel worthy of them right now.” With that Snape stood up and without another word, swept into the house leaving Harry once again alone in the night air.

Regrets are a waste of energy. This does not make you evil yourself. Harry struggled with his thoughts after Snape had left. No matter what his professor said, Harry felt as though there were a stain on his soul that he could not scrub off. I killed a man, and enjoyed killing him. If that is not the source of all evil, I don't know what is. Harry wished he could attribute the glee he felt at watching Voldemort burn was merely self righteous anger, but he knew better than that. He could lie to everyone around him, but not to himself.

Harry watched the irresistible dance of the flames as they licked up the robes of Voldemort. He saw the dawning realization hit Voldemort that there was no escape, the indescribable satisfaction he derived from hearing Voldemort's screams and incoherent pleading. A almost fascinated disgust that kept Harry's eyes glued to Voldemort's writhing figure, watching as the flesh blackened and curled before peeling away to reveal the next, even more sensitive layer of skin.

Murderer, his conscience whispered in Hermione's voice. Evil. Harry heaved a great sigh as he tried to blank his mind by staring at the stars. Even the small amount of light provided by the moon and stars seemed overly bright to his heightened senses. Harry jumped at the sound of rustling in the bushes, whipping his wand out before he had even fully turned. Only a neighborhood cat , however, sauntered out glaring balefully at Harry before continuing on it's way down Glanrafon Ave. Harry relaxed his stance, placing his wand back in it's holster before once again turning his gaze towards the sky.

See this not as the moment that destroyed you but as the moment that defined you. Snape's words echoed through Harry's head. If this is what defines me, what does that make me? Harry thought wryly to himself. He had spent so much time over the last month dwelling on what he had done, that his head hurt at times. Harry felt as if there were too many thoughts trying to take control, and he was powerless to stop it. He could only dread his reunion with Hermione, because as much as he needed her unwavering support and love, he didn't want to drag her down into this dark world of his own creation. All these thoughts seemed to tumble around in his head, as his eyes became bleary with fatigue. Harry eventually decided to try again to sleep, hoping he wouldn't have to take yet another Dreamless Sleep potion, he had taken far too many lately.

Harry felt so tired, as he dragged himself into the house and up the stairs. He threw himself on the bed fully clothed and he knew that no amount of advice or dwelling thoughts would prevent the terrors from plaguing his sleep that night. He fought to stay awake, to avoid them a little longer before he finally succumbed to sleep.