Disclaimer: Don't own. Wish I did. Maybe I could pay for college then.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

If you are reading this, you are part of the problem. You are the one that is keeping me here. And I can never forgive you for that.

When I awoke, the room was dark, but not an oppressive dark. It felt more like an absence of everything good; light, warmth... love. But then, a flick and there was light. I cringed at the fluorescent brightness.

Someone threw in a notebook, this notebook, and a pen and said, "Write down everything that has happened today. Leave nothing out." The voice sounded familiar. He left before I could ask him anything. I flung myself against the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. I kicked, I pounded, I screamed, but no one was there to hear it but me. Or else no one cared.

I don't know what's going on or where I am. Every feeling, the light, the scratch of the starchy hospital tunic… This isn't a dream. If I do what you want, will you let me go?

Well, today was a long day. Watching the people you love fight for their lives and the lives of others makes days seem like years. I know you told me to leave nothing out, but I just can't go over the horrid details all over again. It'd be like ripping open fresh wounds…

So here's a summary: Today was the battle at Hogwarts. I watched many dear friends die, nearly died myself, and finally killed Lord Voldemort. I'm sure you know the rest.

The last thing I remember is asking for a sandwich. And… after that, nothing. I must've fallen asleep.

I don't understand… What is this?

Harry tossed the notebook away, cursing the walls of his room. Little did he know, Dr. Dumbledore was watching his movements carefully, staring intently at the computer screen before him.

"His behavior is… very odd," said Dumbledore, turning to face Dr. Snape with a pensive look on his face. "It almost seems as if… as if he has become more conscious of this world."

Snape sneered. "Yes, well, it's about time he left dream land," he drawled.

"Quite so. But… I wonder if he will be so easy to bring back."

"I'll call the Dursleys," Snape said, rising from the chair in one graceful motion and gliding, it seemed, to the door.

"No, not just yet. We have to be sure that this time is different."

Snape sighed. "But he's been here for seven years."

"I'm aware, Snape." Dumbledore motioned for him to resume his seat. "And how often have the Dursleys contacted us? Not once. For all we know, they've moved away and cut off all contact to him. You remember the way they were when they brought him here. Or have you forgotten?"

"No, I remember it clearly, sir." Snape gritted his teeth. "What do we do now?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and brought his hands together in thought. "I need you to retrieve the notebook. Perhaps we will know what to do after we've read it. And he's probably hungry… I'll have some food sent to his room." Dumbledore picked up his phone to call the cafeteria.

"So I just go in there? You know how much he detests me. It'll scare him out of his wits."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Oh I doubt that. You're not nearly as scary as you think you are."

Snape squinted in frustration. "I'll be back shortly."

Snape peered into the room. The boy was sitting on his bed, staring hopelessly into space. He looked as he usually did – devoid of emotion. There were rare moments when it seemed he was in excruciating pain, but the room was sound-proofed long ago to smother his screams.

The mechanical opening of the door startled Harry into consciousness, and he looked at Snape with a mix of surprise and horror.

"But… But you're dead!" Harry shouted, backing into a corner. "You died just yesterday, I was there!"

Snape sighed, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "No dear boy, I'm quite alive."

"But… But I could have sworn you were… Where am I? What is this? Some kind of trap, I suppose. Your death was a lie. So was Voldemort's, wasn't it? You and your scummy Death Eaters have finally captured me!"

Snape sat down on the bed, setting his elbows upon his knees and looking calmly at Harry, who was now looking frantically about the room for anything that could be used as a weapon.

"Mr. Potter. Would you please calm down? There is nothing in this room that you could possibly use to harm me or yourself. This is a mental institution. We don't look kindly on weapons of any sort."

Quite on the contrary to its purpose, Snape's statement sparked a fresh wave of anxiety in Harry. "What do you mean a mental institution? They have those in the wizarding world? Or… Or you're keeping me in some muggle nut house or something?"

Snape silently gave the room a once over and spotted the notebook and pen. He couldn't leave just yet – he had to get Harry into a more tranquil state. "Harry-"

"What!? You've never called me Harry before. What is this!? Who are you? You can't be Snape. Polyjuice potion, is it? Well, you can't fool me."

"No, Mr. Potter, I assure you I am Severus Snape, assistant to the head psychiatrist of Arkham Asylum for the Insane," Snape's forehead crinkled into a look of impatience.

Silence followed these words. Snape waited a few moments until deciding that the boy had finally seen some sense to the situation. "Mr. Potter –" But he was interrupted as a tray was slid into a ledge next to the door.

Harry jumped at the harsh grating of metal against metal, looking from the tray to Snape quickly. "I'm not eating anything you give me, you know."

"Well, I didn't give it to you, did I? I've had no chance whatsoever to contaminate your food." Snape attempted to sound soothing and reassuring, but failed miserably.

Harry glared. "You could have done anything to it before you got here."

His façade of perfect calmness lost, Snape stood with a heavy sigh. "If it is your wish to starve for no reason, so be it." On his way out, he quickly grabbed the notebook and pen, clutching them forcefully to himself. "Dumbledore will speak to you shortly."

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked. "But… But you killed him! You killed Dumbledore, I saw you kill him, saw you with my own eyes!"

Snape gave Harry one final glare before shutting the door forcefully behind him.

I liked him much more when he was barely conscious Snape decided.