AN: Earlier this year, I removed all of my Potter stories. I wanted a chance to rework them.

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

This story takes place after the war, and it goes AU from there.

The Once and Future Prince

Chapter 1

May 2, 1998

"Severus!" Lily called out to him.

"Lily," he gasped with the last of his breath. He cracked his eyes, praying for a chance to see her again, and there she stood. The silky, smoothness of her long, beautiful red hair gleamed even through her ghostly luminescence. His last wish had been fulfilled, and now, at last, he could close his eyes and die in peace.

"Severus!" she shouted urgently.

His eyes jerked open. Lily's voice was a command he dare not disobey, but there was pain, unbearable pain in his throat, and he couldn't answer her. His strength was gone. His breath used up. All he wanted was to sink back down into that downy, peace and drift away in dreams of her.

James drifted into his view. "Wake up, Severus. They are looking for you. They'll be here soon."

He bristled at the sight of his former tormentor and rival. "No Azk-!" He managed to gasp a few syllables.

"Severus," Lily explained gently as she knelt beside him. "Severus, you aren't going to Azkaban, and you aren't going to die. They won't let you." She smiled at him. "Listen, Sev, I need you to stay awake. I need you to get up."

And because she asked it of him, he reached into his deepest reserves of strength. Groaning from the pain and effort, Severus rolled himself onto his side. He clawed at the boards and dragged himself across the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack, sliding though a pool of his own half-congealed blood.

He was under a window now, and he used the ledge to pull himself into a sitting position. The gaping wound in his throat was pinched shut by his chin pressing down on his chest.

"So, sor'," he gasped. "I tri-, tri-"

Words failed him. Air fluttered through the rip in his throat. Desperately, he tried to grasp her hands. One flailing hand managed to clamp across his torn throat, so he could tell her the urgent news. His words were a breathy gush. "A'thing! A'thing, Lily. Love you."

"Shhh," she cooed as if he were her child. "Shhh, Sev, it's all right. I know. No, don't try to speak. Let the wound stay closed."

James appeared again on his other side, wavering in and out of focus. "Snape, it's all right. Just listen to me," James said, a smile on the phantom face, "Death changes us, makes us rethink things, admit things, face our demons before we're allowed to move on. I need you to understand how wrong we all were. We hurt you intentionally, and that was wrong. Snape, if I could go back and change things, I would."

"Please forgive us," Lily added. "We wronged you."

James snorted, but no breath issued forth. "We need your forgiveness before we can move on, and, ironically, you need to forgive us before you can move on, too."

"C'ming wi' ye?" Severus whispered eagerly, his eyes begging Lily.

"Hush, Sev," she admonished him. "Save your breath and strength."

"You can't come with us. It's not your time. You've got to go back, Snape," James insisted. "You still have things to do. They need you, all of them!"

Them? He vaguely wondered whom James meant. Dull-eyed, he squinted around the dusty shack. He had thought he was alone, but he wasn't. Slowly, the sun rose, and a beam of clear morning light pierced the window. Long, low, slanted beams of dawn's light, dancing with dust motes, warmed his head and shoulders, illuminating the ramshackled room. It felt good. He closed his eyes and rested.

"Where is he?" a shrill voice, Hermione Granger, demanded. "When we left, he was right here!"

"Shite!" a young man exclaimed in horror. "Look at all the blood!"

"There he is!" Hermione shrieked. "Help me, Harry!"

There was a wet sound of shoes smacking in the sticky puddle of blood. Then, there was a thud as a set of knees hit the floorboards beside him.

"Hermione," Harry declared gently, "this is hopeless. Look how much blood he's lost. There's no way he's still alive."

"No, Harry," she argued. "I'm not leaving him without trying. He deserves that much!"

"He's dead, Hermione," Harry stated bluntly. Gently, he pulled her shoulders. "Come on, let's go back. We can send somebody back for his- for him later."

"Don' go," he wheezed. Severus' eyes fluttered open, desperately searching for Lily, and he was rewarded to see her smiling face hovering just over her son's shoulder.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, grabbing his arm. "He's alive! Look!" Hermione began to laugh and cry at the same time. "Oh, Harry! I knew it!"

"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed. "He is alive!" Harry dropped to the floor on the opposite side of Professor Severus Snape.

"Here, Harry," Granger ordered, "These are blood replenishing potions. Just keep pouring them down his throat while I bandage the wound."

Severus felt a cool liquid ease into his parched mouth. He felt tender, warm hands gently holding his neck, carefully shifting his weight. Then, there was a soft firmness around his throat.

"Come on, Professor," Granger commanded him, "promise me you won't die on us!"

"Listen to me," Lily ordered him. "You must let go of your anger, your bitterness, Sev. Let go of your hurt and pain. You must forgive us, forgive everyone who's hurt you, and then you must forgive yourself. Look at me, Sev, and promise me!"

"Pr'misss," he mumbled feebly. He tucked his chin downward a fraction of an inch in an attempt at a nod.

Hermione leaned in closer, and he could see the tears sparkling in her eyes. "Professor," she demanded in a gentle voice, "you've got to hang on a bit longer."

"Hold on, Sev," Lily insisted. "You'll do great things once you forgive and let go.

"Yes." His eyes were slowly closing.

"He'll be fine now, Lily," James stated. "We'll see him again much later." Slowly, James and Lily faded away.

"You'll be okay now, Professor," Hermione told him. "You just rest. Harry's searching for something to transfigure into a stretcher. Now, try to swallow this. It's a painkiller."

"Here, help me." Harry had transfigured an old chair and pillow into a padded stretcher. "You get his feet, and I'll take his head. I don't want to take the chance of levitating him. He's been through too much already."

"Thank you, Harry," she said. "I know Ron will be angry, but I just couldn't leave him to die."

Harry inhaled deeply and let out a long breath. He bent over and took the heavy end of the stretcher. "Come on. Let's go."

May 4, 1998

"Can he hear me?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.

"I believe he can," an older man's rich, bass voice replied.

"Good," Shacklebolt continued. He sighed deeply. "I need to speak with him."

"Now, see here!" the other man protested. "I won't have you upsetting my patient. Death Eater or not, the man is my responsibility!"

There was a sharp inhalation of air. "I'm sorry, but I've been appointed interim Minster of Magic, and I have a duty to perform, Doctor-"

"Hartley," the man declared, "Dr. Robert Hartley, and I won't allow you to-"

There was a rustling of robes as Kingsley stepped forward, ignoring the doctor's protests. "Snape? Severus? The war is over. Riddle is dead as are most of his Death Eaters. The few remaining will start trial tomorrow."

Severus could hear the man's robes rustling. "Dr. Hartley," he called out, "are you sure he can hear me?"

"I believe that he can," Hartley replied.

"Snape," Shacklebolt stated, "I'll see that you get a fair trial, and I'll see to it that it takes place only when you're well enough to attend."

Snape wanted to thank the auror. It was far more than he'd hoped to get, but his body wouldn't obey him. He couldn't even open his eyes.

The next sound that he heard was the door sweeping open. A young man's voice called out in urgency. "Minister? Minster Shacklebolt?"

"Yes, Percy, what is it?" Kingsley sighed with weariness.

Percy Weasley spoke quickly in clipped tones. "It's Harry, sir, Harry Potter. He claims to have vital information that will completely exonerate Professor Snape. He insists that you speak with him now."