A/N: This is the happy version of Batmarcus' fic The Madness is Eternal. He gave me permission to write a happier version (thanks Madman!). I don't own HP. This is a bit dark.

The madness is temporary

Severus Snape sat alone in his dark living room. It was over two months now that the war had ended, and he still couldn't believe he'd survived. By some miracle, Potter had known exactly what the potion for his anti-venom was, when he'd administered it, he had to go play hero, leaving Granger to keep him alive.

How on earth had Potter known to help him? Albus bloody Dumbledore. The old codger's portrait had spilled the beans to Potter... oh, that portrait will never forget the tongue-lashing it received from the Potions Master, although he did provide his memories later on to prove that the old codger wasn't entirely insane.

Potter met up with the Dark Lord in the forest, where the mad dictator tried, and failed, to kill him. After the battle was over, after Voldemort was dead and the damage was done, Potter returned.

Snape couldn't look Potter in the eye.

"Sir?"

"What is it, Potter?" Snape sounded annoyed and tired.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Potter said quietly. They were in the Hospital Wing, with Snape recovering and Potter decided to drop in. Something inside Snape cringed.

"In all honesty, Potter, I hardly think you have anything to be remorseful about. It's over, isn't it?" Snape drawled, though his voice lacked its usual venom.

"Sir, you saved my life."

"Countless times, I think I cancelled it out by being horrible to you." Snape sighed.

"Let's start again," Potter said excitedly, extending his hand to the bedridden man, "My name is Harry Potter. I'd like for you to call me Harry."

Snape stared and blinked, surprised. He took the outstretched hand and shook, "Severus Snape. Severus to you."

And that was how, well we wouldn't call it a friendship, but an acquaintanceship started. Severus went home, where only a few paid him a visit. He wasn't yet strong enough to go around brewing potions yet, thus he did what he did best: he brooded. His name was cleared and he had a stable relationship with Harry... so he should hypothetically be happy, shouldn't he?

But he wasn't. He felt worse than he'd felt worse than he'd felt in both wars; his hair was losing it greasy shine, some falling out, his skin became gaunt – he was afraid it was the lack of sunlight, that was why he commanded Harry to accompany him with a walk outside the gloomy house every second day.

Harry was surprised and frightened at his former Potions Master's sudden breakdown. Well, it probably couldn't be considered 'sudden, but it was surely unwelcome. Sometimes he'd find the gaunt man staring out in front of him, not registering anything, or he'd find the man in bed at two pm on a good day.

Something was wrong, and the more Harry tried to convince him to get help, the less he wanted to. He couldn't explain his dilemma, because he didn't even know what was wrong with him. Only Harry knew of his predicament, and he refused to even let Poppy take a look at him. He hoped it would blow over.

Sometimes he'd relive his worst memories: finding Lily's body, when he initially became a Death Eater, Umbridge's tyranny, Crucio performed on him by the Dark Lord, the Carrows' torture. Sometimes he relived weeks at a time in a matter of hours, not realising he'd been screaming his lungs out until Potter showed him.

After that Severus barricaded himself in his house, screaming his nonsense at walls and furniture, scratching the paint and wallpaper until his fingers bled, sometimes attacking himself with his wand.

Harry didn't know what to do but take the man's wand from him.

Severus picked up a glass of Firewhiskey – he wasn't one to drink, but anything was better than reliving those days. He'd much rather be in a permanent drunken stupor than having to relive his worst memories over and over and over, again and again, day by day. Days turned into weeks, the weeks became a month... his house smelled like firewhiskey and burnt cedar wood, but he had no idea where the burnt cedar wood smell came from.

Harry moved in with him, to keep him safe from endangering himself. Severus once voiced that he might hurt Harry, to which Harry just shrugged and said: "You did so much for me, why can't I do this for you?"

But Severus couldn't do it anymore. In his drunken stupors, the memories found their way into his nightly dreams, and he couldn't live of alcohol and dreamless sleep potions... he had to get rid of it permanently, and he knew only one way how. He had to end it.

That was why one day, when he was sure Harry would be gone for a long time – something about spending the day with the Weasley girl, he wrote a note with his bony, shaky hand.

He thanked Harry for everything, and explained that he couldn't carry on.

He whipped out a sharp kitchen knife and sank it into his chest. He felt the blood leave his body, he felt his head start to spin, he saw the scarlet blood, forming a pool... A fountain of glittering liquid rubies - it was almost pretty.

Then it was stopped. Hands were supporting him, laying him down gently... the knife wasn't buried in his chest anymore... something was pressing on his chest... a spell whispered... his head was forced up... Lily's eyes... no, those were her son's eyes... his lips were moving...

"Stupid... bastard... why didn't you wait?" Tears. Tears were leaking from Lily's eyes. No, Harry's eyes. He didn't want Lily to cry. Or Harry.

Something slipped past his chapped lips, into his throat... it tasted vile... like saliva of a Great Dane.

Severus blinked as conscious thought returned. He didn't want to die. He couldn't remember much about the last few weeks...

"Harry?" Severus sat up, gasping when he felt a stabbing pain in his chest.

"Professor, please, if you lie still I can close the wound." It was Granger. Again, she was keeping him alive. He obeyed, and his chest was as good as new in a matter of minutes.

"Can I sit up now?" Snape asked softly. Granger nodded, and he saw her eyes were brimming with tears. He sat up, looking at the young man next to him.

"What happened?" He asked, reaching forward to wipe a tear from Harry's cheek.

"Nagini's venom," Granger choked, "It's similar to dementors' affects. They caused you to remember... and it never bothered Mr Weasley that much, he'd just received a simple bite... but Nagini was meant to kill you... your body was full of her venom, some even merging with your blood..."

He looked at the two youngsters, seeing Weasley stand awkwardly behind them, "You three have saved me, yet again."

"I didn't do anything." Harry mumbled. Ron Weasley laughed.

"Harry, you're the one that figured out what was wrong." The redhead shot at him.

"But when it came to it, I froze up. If it wasn't for you, Ron, forcing it down his throat..." Harry hid his face. Weasley looked bit shocked, but he put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Thank you, Harry," Severus said, "And I apologize for everything I put you through."

Harry looked up, and grinned, "If you ever pull a stunt like this again, Mister, I will make you write lines."

Severus gave the trio a rare smile and only nodded his consent.

. . .

A/N: What did I do? I made Snape smile? How dare I?!