Author Notes: Originally written for snarry_holidays for dandru. Thank you to my beta aigooism! Any mistakes remaining are all my own. Also, a couple of small scenes were edited to bring the rating down a smidge. *g*

Footfalls in the memory: Part I

Harry woke up feeling like every muscle in his body was aching; it felt like he had run a marathon the previous night. He groaned slightly as he sat up and swung his legs out of bed. The room tilted dizzily around him as he opened his eyes. As his vision focused, Harry suddenly realised that he had no clue where he was. He didn't think that he'd had too much to drink the night before. As far as he could remember, he had gone to bed at the normal time, said good night to Ron and then drawn the curtains around his bed.

Except, now, there were no curtains around his bed. His bed seemed to have changed from the four-poster single bed he was supposed to have to a double bed. In fact, the entire room had changed. It was no longer the Gryffindor boy's dormitory. Instead, it seemed like the master bedroom of an apartment. There was bright light coming out from the edges of the curtains.

Harry could feel his body tense. Looking around, he could see his wand lying on the bedside table. Leaning over, Harry grabbed it and almost immediately, he felt better. This could be a Death Eater plot or a plot belonging to some sort of crazed fan. Over the past few years, Harry had seen some of the fan letters that people sent. He wouldn't be surprised if some crazed witch or wizard had seen fit to kidnap him.

There was a sudden sound from beside him.

Harry twisted around and stared. There was somebody else on the bed. He had no clue how he had managed to miss the fact that he was sleeping next to somebody else, but obviously he had. He suspected that it might have something to do with his pounding headache.

Gingerly, Harry stood up, all the while keeping an eye on the person sleeping on the bed. He couldn't tell who it was because they had their back to him. The only thing he could tell was that the person had shoulder-length black hair that trailed over the pillow. "Who are you?" he said loudly, keeping his wand trained on the person.

The person visibly stiffened. In what seemed like less than the blink of an eye, the person had lunged over, grabbed a wand that was lying on the opposite bedside table. Harry grimaced. He had never noticed the other wand. The person stood up and whirled around to face Harry.

Harry's mouth dropped open. It was Snape. Horrifyingly, he seemed to be clad in only boxers. It was only then that Harry realised that he was only wearing boxers as well. He could feel himself blushing.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Snape asked icily. His eyes swept around the room. "What have you done?'

"What have I done?" Harry spluttered.

Snape's eyes narrowed and it seemed to Harry that he was being scrutinised. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?"

"What?"

Snape made a head motion towards a mirror that was set up in front of the cupboard. Harry frowned. He had no idea why Snape wanted him to look at a mirror. "For once in your life, just follow the instructions," Snape said irritably. There was a strange note in his voice.

Slowly, Harry walked to the mirror. The first thing he noticed was that the boxers concealed even less than he had first thought. Then he looked up at his face and his mouth dropped open. It looked like he had aged five years overnight. He was slightly taller and broader about the shoulders. His face had lengthened slightly. He also had stubble on his cheeks. "What?" he exclaimed.

"Experimenting with potions again?" Snape said nastily. From his tone of his voice, Harry suspected he had a sneer on his face. "Or have you been stupid enough to eat something given to you by the Weasley twins?"

"I haven't!" Harry protested. He certainly hadn't done this to himself, and he was almost positive that he hadn't eaten anything by either Fred or George without double-checking for a long time. But there seemed to be an alarming fuzziness to his memory. As Harry turned around, something caught his eye. Harry's eyes widened as he took in the picture on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. "That..." he stammered. "That picture."

"What are you twittering about?" Snape snapped. He strode over, seemingly unembarrassed by his almost-nakedness.

Harry was almost amused to see Snape's eyes widen. "This is obviously some sort of sick joke," Snape said decisively. He picked up the photograph and dropped it in the ashes of the fireplace. Harry could see the surprised expressions of the people in the photo.

"Why?" Harry asked, frowning. "Why would anybody play such a trick?"

Snape picked up a small container on the mantelpiece. It seemed to be Floo powder. "I plan on finding out."

Harry shivered at the tone in Snape's voice. He pitied the person who had put them in this situation. He shifted slightly where he was standing. The spell that was used to make him older was certainly a good one. Now that Harry was more awake, he could feel minute changes in his body. His centre of balance was slightly different. He frowned. Now that he was closer to Snape, he could swear that Snape looked older as well. It wasn't as noticeable on Snape, but Harry thought that Snape had fewer wrinkles and grey hairs last time he had seen him. Not that Harry ever made it a habit of noticing what Snape looked like.

"Incendio!" Snape said, pointing his wand at the fireplace. As Harry watched, the little photograph depicting him and Snape together, with the little Snape kissing the little Harry, went up in flames. Their photographic selves made silent screaming faces as the flames licked around them and the photograph crumbled into ash. Snape had a rather gleeful expression on his face that Harry found disturbing. He lifted the box of Floo powder.

"Are we going to Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"You imbecile, of course we are. This could be a trick by the Dark Lord."

Harry hesitated before speaking again. "Then, maybe, we should," he gestured downwards, "put on clothes."

Two bright spots of colour appeared in Snape's sallow cheeks. "Very well," he said and whirled around. "I shall change in there." He pointed towards what seemed like an adjoining bathroom.

Harry watched as Snape gathered some items of clothing into his arms and disappeared into the bathroom. After a few seconds, he went over to the closet and opened it. About half the clothes in the closet seemed to belong to him. They seemed to be his size and were in his favourite colours. Harry frowned. If this was some sort of joke, he couldn't see the point. If it was a plan by Voldemort, then it was an incredibly bad one.

Quickly, he pulled on a pair of trousers and a shirt, both of which fitted perfectly. About a minute later, Snape emerged, wearing robes buttoned up to his neck. Without a word, Snape strode towards the fireplace, took a pinch of the Floo powder and threw it down, saying sharply, "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts." He disappeared in a bright flash.

Harry wrinkled his nose. He didn't like the smell of Floo powder. It seemed to make a charcoal smell in the air that was quite unpleasant. With a sigh, he took his own pinch of glittery Floo powder and threw it down, being careful to not breathe in through his nose. "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts.

-***-

Harry coughed as he emerged from the fireplace in a cloud of ash. He had never gotten the hang of Floo travel. Everybody else seemed to get out with only a very slight dusting of ash but he seemed to have half the fireplace on him.

"Harry!"

Harry turned his head and could see Professor McGonagall standing there smiling cheerfully at him. "It's lovely to see you and Severus again," she said. "What brings you to my office?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Snape staring incredulously at McGonagall. One of Snape's hands was creeping towards the wand he had stashed in the belt of his robes.

"Uh, Professor," Harry ventured. "I think somebody might have played a trick on us."

"What that imbecile is trying to say," Snape broke in acerbically. "Is that we woke up this morning in the same bed, in what was obviously not either of our quarters. And we both seem to have been aged at least five years."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Is this some sort of practical joke?"

"That's what we're trying to say!" Harry burst out. "Professor, where's Ron and Hermione? Maybe they noticed something!"

"I presume they are in their home," McGonagall said, with an air of confusion. "Harry, why are you calling me Professor? I gave you permission to use my given name over five years ago."

Harry began to feel a strange sense of vertigo. "You're trying to tell us that we're in ... the future?" he spluttered.

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter," Snape snapped. He had his wand pulled out, pointed towards McGonagall. "This is obviously some sort of farce. I do not yet know who the perpetrators are, however, rest assured, we have not somehow travelled forward in time. That is impossible."

McGonagall snorted. "You're right in that, Severus. Now, I don't know what you two are going on about, but I suggest you go home. Perhaps you breathed in too many Potions fumes when you were working on your latest invention." She looked at Snape with a concerned expression. "Severus, you should rest." Turning around, McGonagall walked towards the door of the office.

"Stupefy!"

Harry gasped as McGonagall crumpled to the ground.

Snape pocketed his wand again and strode over to where she lay. "Seamless integration of features," he muttered as he knelt down to examine her face. "Polyjuice potion, perhaps."

"Perhaps she was telling the truth?" Harry ventured.

"Given the fact this concerns you, Potter," Snape said acidly, "it is infinitely more likely that this is a ploy by the Dark Lord."

"But why?" Harry asked. That was what he couldn't understand. There didn't seem to be any point to this ploy. It was confusing, certainly, however, if Voldemort had wanted him confused, he could have just waited until Harry sat his NEWTs.

Snape sighed irritably. "We will wait until she wakes up," he said, indicating at McGonagall's body. "Then we will find out our answers." As Harry watched, Snape drew his wand again and pointed it at her body. Ropes appeared out of the end and wrapped themselves around her wrists and ankles, securing her in place.

Harry stared. He felt distinctly uncomfortable with this plan. The woman who was lying on the floor looked like McGonagall. She had acted like McGonagall. "What if somebody else comes in here before she wakes up?"

Snape's eyes gleamed. "I have already taken the precaution of locking the door."

Harry blinked.

Snape sighed heavily. "Did you never listen during Charms class, Potter?" he asked, sneering. "I locked the door using wandless magic."

"Why didn't you use wandless magic on her then?" Harry asked, pointing at McGonagall.

"Wandless magic works better on inanimate objects," Snape said shortly. He strode over to the desk and leaned on it.

On the floor, McGonagall stirred slightly. Her eyes opened. "What...?" she said slowly. "Severus? Harry? What just happened?"

Snape kept his wand pointed towards her. "Who are you?"

McGonagall had obviously just realised that she was tied up. She struggled against her bonds. "Severus, are you crazy?" she said, with a frown. "What on earth are you doing?"

"You are obviously not Minerva," Snape stated. "You are an imposter under Polyjuice Potion, likely a Death Eater."

McGonagall stared. "The last of the Death Eaters were captured over four years ago. Are you feeling all right, Severus?" She swivelled her head to look at Harry. "Harry, what are you just doing standing there? It's obvious that Severus isn't himself."

Harry took half a step forward and then stopped. "We woke up this morning ... like this," he said by means of explanation.

"Like what?" McGonagall exploded. Harry could see the furrows in her forehead deepening just like whenever she was furious.

"What Potter means is that we woke up in bed together this morning, over five years older than we should be," Snape said tersely. "We would like an explanation."

McGonagall's eyes widened. "Are you joking, Severus?" she spluttered. "You and Harry are married! That's why you were in the same bed together! You're scaring me with that behaviour. Now untie me!"

Harry gasped. What McGonagall said couldn't be true. It was ridiculous. He was seventeen, almost eighteen. He knew that perfectly well. Yesterday he had gone to classes as normal. He had played Quidditch as normal. He had fantasised about girls and thought about what it would be like to kiss Ginny. He couldn't be gay and he definitely couldn't be gay with Snape, of all people!

"You're sick," Snape said decisively. Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit offended. It was all right for him to be sickened by the idea, but did Snape have to be so obvious about it?

McGonagall closed her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. "Severus, look at the date on The Daily Prophet. It's on my desk."

Snape gestured for Harry to walk over to the desk. Harry walked over and scanned it. The desk was fairly messy so it took him a few seconds to locate the Prophet. When he did, the date jumped out at him almost immediately. Harry picked up the newspaper and brought it over to Snape.

Snape looked at it briefly. "This could be faked," he said.

"Severus," McGonagall said, sounding weary, "why would we fake this? What reason would I have to fake something like this?"

Harry bit his lip. McGonagall was making sense and that sickened him. Snape and him in a relationship? It was laughable. Snape hated him and Harry's own feelings towards Snape were less than positive at the best of times.

"The Dark Lord has nefarious plans at times. This could be one of them," Snape stated, but Harry could tell that he sounded doubtful.

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "You-Know-Who has been dead for almost ten years."

"He has?" Harry burst out. Reaching up, Harry felt his scar. It felt like a normal scar. There was no subtle burning sensation that he had been feeling for the past few months. "It isn't hurting!" he said in surprise.

"Because You-Know-Who is dead," McGonagall said patiently.

"Do not listen to her, Potter," Snape said icily. "She is trying to trick both of us."

Harry could hear McGonagall grind her teeth. It was a rather unpleasant sound. "I don't know," he said hesitantly. "It sounds like ... it could be the truth."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "You're trying to tell me that you believe this ludicrous story of us being lovers?"

"Well..." Harry said, trailing off. "I'm not sure."

Snape stared at him. "You're not sure?" he said incredulously. "What part of you believes that in any universe that I would ever be in a relationship with you?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say. On one hand, he didn't believe a word McGonagall was saying but on the other hand, it made a crazy sort of sense. "I guess," he said.

On the floor, McGonagall twisted around to stare at the door. Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't try anything," Snape snapped.

There was a scuffling noise from behind the door. Harry turned around and could see the doorhandle opening. "I thought the door was locked!" he protested as the door opened and several people stormed in, pointing wands at both him and Snape.

"Wandless magic," McGonagall said irritably. "I called for backup the moment I regained consciousness. You didn't believe that I could ever be taken off guard in my own office, did you?" She turned to the people who had come in. "Be careful with them. They seem to have some sort of amnesia."

One of the men pointed a wand at them both. The next thing Harry remembered was a bright flash of light and then blackness.

-***-

Harry stared. In front of him was a woman who had a passing resemblance to Hermione Granger. Except her hair was straight, whereas Hermione's hair was curly. And she looked as if she had been aged for about ten years. That's funny, a needling little voice inside his head pointed out, you and Snape look like you've been aged for about the same amount of time. Harry tried to stand up but he found his arms and legs immobilised. His throat closed up and he could hear his breath coming in pants.

The woman knelt in front of his chair. "Look at me, Harry," she ordered. "Calm down."

There was a note in her voice that made Harry turn his head. He stared into her eyes. They were wide and earnest. He realised that they even had the small green flecks Hermione's eyes had. "Who are you?" he snapped, glad that he could still speak. "Where am I? Why am I tied up?"

"We were afraid that there was some form of curse on you and Severus," the woman explained. She bit her lip. "I'm so sorry about this, Harry. I didn't want you to be restrained but when Severus woke up, he nearly took out two people. We were afraid that it was an adverse effect of the curse."

"What curse?" Harry exploded. "Who the hell are you?"

She looked sadly at him. "I'm Hermione. And you seem to have some form of amnesia inducing curse on you. We're still unsure whether that was the main intention of the curse or whether it was just a by-product."

Harry just stared at her. He had been beginning to believe McGonagall back in her office, but now he wasn't sure. "Untie me then," he said, through gritted teeth. "If you're really Hermione, you'd untie me."

He could see her muscles flex and then she leaned backwards and looked at him.

"You're a Death Eater, aren't you?" Harry said, a shiver running down his spine. "What'd you want with me? Why am I here?"

The woman took a step forward. Harry couldn't help but cringe as she lifted her wand up and waved it over him. To his surprise, he could feel the invisible restraints around him relax and disappear. "I trust you won't try to attack me," she said wryly. "I remember how you were at this age." There was a fond look in her eyes. "You weren't as unreasonable as Severus always claims you were."

Harry stood up. The world swam around him and he put his hand out on the chair to steady himself. Looking down, he suddenly realised that he was quite a bit higher off the ground than he normally was. It was probably some side effect of the curse, he decided. "Where's Snape?" he demanded. Somehow it felt like the right question to ask. Snape was the only person who he could trust. Harry almost laughed at that thought. But it was true.

"I'll take you to him," the woman said. She walked towards the door and pulled it open, holding it for him. "And I really am Hermione, you know."

-***-

The first thing Harry noticed when he walked into the room was that Snape seemed to be seated in a chair and restrained in a similar way. There was a table in this room. Upon it were piles of books and newspapers.

"Potter!" Snape said harshly as soon as Harry stepped in. His black eyes narrowed when he saw the woman step into the room. "What's she doing here?"

A part of Harry wanted to just leave Snape in the chair, restrained. After all, the git deserved it for all he had done. He sighed slowly. "Can you untie him?"

The woman shook her head. "There are magic dampening wards in that chair. He's already put two people in hospital. Sorry, Severus, but we can't let you go until you accept the fact that we're not lying to you."

Snape sneered. "I'm supposed to believe that I'm in a relationship with Potter?"

The woman strode over and picked up one of the newspapers. "I've given you proof," she said, sounding exasperated.

Curious, Harry walked over and took the newspaper from her fingers. It was dated several years in the future. Or, his mind amended, if the woman was telling the truth, it was dated around eight years in the past. The headline blared: Boy-Who-Lives moves in with former Death Eater. There was a picture of him and Snape on the cover. The Snape in the picture had his customary scowl on his face until the Harry in the picture poked him in the side. Then the picture Snape's expression softened until it was almost a smile. Harry had to admit that Snape didn't look half-bad like that. It made him look far less scary and took years off his age.

"Newspapers can be doctored. Pictures can be faked," Snape countered.

"What earthly reason do we have to be faking this?" the woman burst out.

"Then," Snape said, in a deceptively silky voice, "why don't you untie me?"

The woman stared. "I've already told you. So has Minerva. You put two of my best employees in hospital."

"Take me to Albus," Snape ordered, after a brief pause. "The only people I've seen so far are you, Minerva and your imbecilic employees." He sneered. "If you're really Hermione Granger, then you'll be able to take me to Albus."

An unreadable look flickered over the woman's face. "Albus is dead," she said quietly.

"What?" Harry burst out. He knew that Dumbledore was old, but he couldn't be dead? It was impossible. "How?"

Her face took on a guarded expression. "It was a long time ago. He died at the hands of a Death Eater."

Snape snorted. "A likely story," he snapped. "It is far more likely that this is an imbecilic Death Eater ploy to learn our secrets."

Harry let out a deep breath. It didn't seem like this was going anywhere. He kept on looking at the door, wondering if he could make a quick getaway. Except, if this really was a Death Eater plan, then the likelihood was slim that he could escape without his wand. If the woman was telling the truth, if she was really Hermione, then he didn't need to be running. "What if..." he said slowly.

The woman spun to stare at him. "I know that look, Harry," she said wryly. "You have an idea, don't you?"

"Snape can read your mind," Harry said quickly. "He can do that legi-thing."

Snape rolled his eyes. "It isn't mind reading," he said. "And it's called Legilimency."

Hermione hesitated. "It's possible. Would you believe us then, Severus?"

Snape was in the process of opening his mouth to answer when the door behind Harry opened. He spun around and saw McGonagall standing there with another person. "We can't take that risk," McGonagall said tightly. "Severus could do serious damage to your mind with his skills. Legilimency is a blunt instrument at best."

"Well spoken, for a Death Eater," Snape said, with a curl to his lip. "You almost sound like Minerva."

"Can you think of any other way for him to believe us?" the woman pointed out. "You knew him back then. Do you think he'll believe us? Even if we take him to see the new refurbished Diagon Alley or the Shrine of War Heroes?"

McGonagall pursed her lips, her forehead wrinkled in a frown. Finally, she turned to Snape. "I'm going to let you go. You may have your wand. You may use Legilimency on Hermione to determine the veracity of our words. I must warn you though, we have Aurors stationed outside."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Very well. I am skilled at Legilimency. If you are telling the truth, which I very much doubt, this should be a simple task and Miss Granger should feel no more than a pinch."

McGonagall drew her wand and waved it over Snape. She then walked over and handed him his wand. Harry watched with bated breath as Snape stood up and walked over. He lifted his wand and waved it over her head. Harry could feel bile rising in his throat as he remembered when Snape used to do this to him. He could still remember those detentions when Snape advanced towards him. He shivered.

The seconds seemed to crawl by when suddenly, Snape staggered back, his arm falling to his side. His face was ashen.

"Snape?" Harry asked.

Snape blinked at him, almost as if he didn't recognise who Harry was. He cleared his throat. "They're telling the truth," he managed to get out.

Harry stared. "What?"

"They're telling the truth," Snape repeated. "We're under some sort of amnesia curse. It's been ten years. We're apparently in some sort of..." his lip curled, "relationship." He turned away towards the wall.

Harry didn't know what to say. It sounded so fantastical. He had been suspicious while at McGonagall's office and while the woman ... while Hermione was talking to him. But he had never really let himself accept it as the truth. "Hermione?" he said quietly.

She gave him a tired smile and massaged her temples. "I never liked Legilimency much."

Harry closed his eyes. He couldn't believe that this was Hermione Granger. She was still obviously smart, but now she seemed to be more self-assured. Then again, he realised, it had been ten years. Ten years. It sounded like a lifetime. He would be in his mid-twenties now. And apparently married to Snape, his mind helpfully provided, but Harry quashed that thought. He could deal with the ramifications of that particular revelation later. Preferably never, he thought grimly.

"Well," McGonagall said briskly, after several moments of silence. "Now that you've both accepted the truth, we need to find out what happened and how to reverse it."

-***-

"I always liked your apartment," Hermione commented as they stepped into the apartment that he and Snape apparently shared together.

Harry stared at her. She seemed to have relaxed a bit now that they were out of the Ministry. It was as though she had let go of her guard and frankly, he thought that she seemed a bit more like the Hermione he knew.

"Sorry," Hermione said hastily as she stepped aside. Snape swept into the apartment after her. "It's just," she said, shaking her head slightly, "I was only here for dinner last week. You and Severus were so happy together." Involuntarily, Harry found himself staring at photos of himself and Snape up on the walls. The little pictures were staring at them quizzically. "Now look at you," she continued.

Harry had to admit that she had a point. Snape had walked halfway across the room and currently stood there, scowling, his arms crossed over his chest. It seemed as though he had chosen to stand as far as possible away from Harry.

There was an awkward silence. "I thought that you two could have a look around first," Hermione said.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "First?"

"Ah, yes," Hermione said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I hoped that looking around would help jog your memories, but the official sweep of the apartment will be undertaken by Ministry personnel. Anything suspicious will be bagged and tagged."

"So our presence here is useless?" Snape surmised his posture stiffening.

"I wouldn't say useless," Hermione hedged.

"I would," Snape said flatly. Harry took an involuntary step backwards as Snape stalked past him, his robes billowing behind him. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to leave."

Before Harry could help himself, he blurted out, "Where're you going?"

Snape spun around, his eyes glittering. "I hope you're not labouring under a misconception, Mr Potter."

Harry frowned. "What?"

Snape took a step forward, his eyes narrowing even further. "We are not in a relationship, Mr Potter. You have no right to know my whereabouts." Hermione opened her mouth, but Snape whirled on her. "Neither do you, Miss Granger," he snapped. "I have done nothing illegal." With that, he turned around and left.

"Well," Harry said, letting out a breath. "From that look on your face, I guess he mellowed out over the years, huh?"

A slight smile crossed her face. "Yeah," she agreed. "Just a little."

-***-

"So?" Harry demanded. "Did they find anything?" He had been told to wait outside his apartment while a brusque crew of Ministry Aurors had brushed past him and turned his apartment upside down. Harry didn't really care about the apartment itself. After all, he had no memory of ever living in it and there were all those creepy pictures of him and Snape on the walls, but he still cringed a bit when he heard the sound of the place being taken apart.

"No curse residue," Hermione said, walking over to where he was leaning against the wall. "There was something that was in one of the cauldrons. The cauldron seemed to have exploded, so they think that it might have been what caused the memory loss. They've taken some scrapings of what's left for testing."

Harry closed his eyes, resisting the urge to slide down the wall and rest his head on his knees. "So they haven't a clue," he surmised.

Hermione shrugged.

"Tell me," Harry said, after a pause. "I worked with Snape on potions?"

"Yeah," she said. "You were actually quite good."

Harry snorted.

"No really," she insisted. "You guys were great partners. Not just in potions." Harry was surprised when her eyes took on a dreamy expression.

"Stop," he said hastily. "I really don't want to think about Snape that way." He shuddered. The mental images the photographs in their apartment gave him were plenty. And the double bed they had woken up in. It was more than Harry ever wanted to know about his future. He had always thought that he would end up with Ginny with a couple of kids. To realise that he had ended up with his least favourite professor from Hogwarts. Well, it was a nightmare.

Hermione looked sympathetically over at him. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just look at you and I see the same person I've known for the past ten years." She reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get your memory back soon."

"I'm not sure I want it back," Harry muttered.

-***-

Harry stared around Diagon Alley. Hermione had wanted to take him out for lunch in the hope that something would trigger his memory. So far, nothing was helping though. He felt ... well, he felt like he had just travelled into the future. Everything was different. He could remember McGonagall saying something about how it had been refurbished; however, he had never expected something like this. "Is the street... wider?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "They widened it about six years back to make room for all the other shops. It was part of all the repairs done after the war." She tilted her head towards where the old entrance to Knockturn Alley. "That entrance was bricked up."

Harry just nodded. It was all a bit too much to take in. "So where are we going for lunch?"

She grinned at him. "I thought that I would take you to one of the new eateries. Lovegood Emporium. They have a fantastic mixture of foods from all over the world and everything is brought to you by Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."

"Lovegood?" Harry repeated, incredulously. "As in Luna?"

Hermione gave a wry smile. "Turns out she wasn't so crazy after all. And those Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are quite cute."

Harry couldn't help wondering if everything else had changed so much. Maybe in the Muggle world, they would have flying cars or personal aeroplanes or any of the numerous gadgets that appeared on those science-fiction shows Dudley used to watch. He followed Hermione into a brightly decorated building that proclaimed itself Lovegood Emporium. Once inside, he couldn't help staring.

"It is a bit of an eyeful," Hermione whispered.

"You could say that again," Harry muttered.

The entire place was brimming with magic. Glittering candles hung from the ceilings. Stone angels on the sides of the walls blew cold air. "She got that idea from Muggle air-conditioning," Hermione explained. The food itself was brought to each table by cute little creatures with crumpled horns. Harry thought they looked something like a cross between a cat and a rabbit, except with a crumpled horn.

"Harry!" an enthusiastic voice exclaimed.

Harry turned his head. "Luna?" he said slowly. It was definitely Luna, looking practically the same as when he saw her last. Her hair was longer, her clothes were different, but she was basically the same person. There was a flower in her hair that sparkled as she moved.

"I heard you lost your memory," Luna said, her eyes widened. "That's unfortunate. But you'll get to try all my house specials again. You did so very much like them the first time."

"Er, thanks," Harry said awkwardly.

Luna beamed at them and led them both towards a corner booth. "Hermione, you know how everything works," she said. She then walked away, leaving them alone.

"This seems... like an interesting place," Harry said faintly.

"You do need to acclimatise," Hermione admitted. "But the food is fantastic. Wait till you try the quadruple stuffed dancing shrimp."

-***-

When Harry got back to his apartment, he found several half-packed bags standing in the living area. As he was staring around at the half-stripped bookshelf, Snape strode into the room. "So you're back," he said abruptly.

Harry wasn't sure what to say so he settled for the obvious. "I take it that you're moving out?"

Snape sneered. "Don't tell me you were looking forward to our domestic life together?"

Harry made a face. "Don't be ridiculous." He bit his lip. "Do we own the apartment?"

There was a flash of something across Snape's eyes that could have been a miniscule amount of respect, but it was gone before Harry could pinpoint it. "I made inquiries at the Ministry and apparently the apartment is paid off in full and is under both our names. I no longer wish to live here, but I am willing to sell my half to you. According to my accountant, we are both very wealthy from our potions work." Snape's lip curled. "Undoubtedly, most of the work was mine."

Harry glared. "Do you have to be so much of a bastard?" he burst out. "We're both in the same situation! It's not like I wanted this any more than you!"

Snape's face tightened. "I am well aware of that," he said stiffly. He swept past Harry and into the bedroom.

After a few seconds, Harry followed him. He watched as Snape pulled various items out of their wardrobe and proceeded to shove them into a suitcase. "How do you know what's yours?"

Snape turned around and rolled his eyes.

"Not the clothes," Harry said hastily. He pointed at the various knick-knacks lying around the room. They were all evidence of the life they had spent together. Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of something that was almost regret. It was obvious from the evidence in the apartment that he and Snape were happy together. But now, because of a curse or accident or something, that was all gone. Of course, he didn't exactly want to continue a life of domestic bliss with Snape, but the feeling of slight sadness still remained. "How'd you know if those are yours or mine?"

"You can keep them," Snape said dismissively.

Harry wrinkled his nose. He wasn't sure that he wanted them. "What about the Potions equipment?"

From the set of Snape's jaw, Harry could tell that the other man had already thought about this. "Since we are partners," Snape said, his lip curled, "I presume it would be fair for me to take half the equipment."

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with half of the Potions making equipment in the apartment, but it did seem quite fair to him. "Well," he said awkwardly. "I'll be in the other room if you need me." When Snape didn't reply, Harry walked slowly out of the door.

-***-

After some investigation, Harry found a bottle of red wine sitting in their fridge and a corkscrew sitting in the back of the pantry. With effort, he managed to get the bottle open. Grabbing a tumbler, he poured himself some wine. After his first sip, Harry could feel his face turning red. He spluttered and gagged slightly. "What on earth is this stuff?" he muttered, staring at the bottle. It was absolutely nothing like Butterbeer. From the label, Harry surmised that it was some sort of Muggle brand.

"You're drinking wine out of that?" Snape said incredulously, coming up behind him.

Harry felt a shiver slide down his back as he looked up. Somehow, it felt like he had done this a thousand times before. "So?" he snapped.

He watched as Snape walked over to the same cabinet he had managed to find his tumbler in. Snape extracted a wine glass and walked back over and sat down on the armchair across from Harry. Before Harry could say anything, Snape had poured himself a glass of wine as well. "A nice vintage," Snape said slowly, after a sip.

Harry stood up and placed his tumbler back onto the table with a little more force than necessary. Some of the wine sloshed over the side and onto the table. He ignored it. "It must be yours then," he snapped.

Snape shrugged and continued drinking his glass of wine.

-***-

Harry stared around the apartment. It looked surprisingly empty now that Snape had left. It wasn't as though he had wanted the other man to stay, but with Snape's things there, the apartment had looked lived in. Now that half the stuff had gone from the apartment, it looked rather sad and threadbare. With a sigh, Harry threw himself onto the couch and eyed the half-finished bottle of wine. Snape had managed to drink more than half the bottle before going back to his packing. It was obvious to Harry as he watched the other man sip the wine, that he wasn't the only one feeling out-of-sorts with this situation. For the first time, he wondered what it was like for Snape to wake up and realise that he had been married to one of his former students. Especially one that he had hated for so many years.

Harry reached for the bottle of wine and took a swig. He winced as he swallowed. He hoped that he didn't have a taste for this kind of stuff in this future. It was quite disgusting and left a dry feeling inside his mouth.

Suddenly, he wondered what he did in this future. It was apparent that he was Snape's partner in the Potions business, but surely that wasn't all he did? Harry had always expected to end up in Quidditch or as an Auror or something like that. Not in Potions. For Merlin's sake, he wasn't even good at Potions.

"Least I seem to have money," he said morosely, and cringed at how sad and pathetic he sounded. His voice seemed to echo around the empty apartment. It had been so long since he had been alone like this. For almost as long as he could remember, he'd always had Dudley tormenting him. Then he had Hogwarts where Ron was almost invariably by his side. But now... all his friends seemed to have moved on. It had been ten years after all.

With a sigh, Harry stretched out on the couch and yawned. He could worry about all that stuff later. Right now, the wine seemed to be making him rather sleepy.

-***-

The real estate agent was a rather severe looking woman who reminded him of McGonagall. She even had her hair up in a bun, although her hair was blonde as opposed to grey. "You wish to sell this apartment, Mr Potter?" she asked, sounding faintly incredulous.

"And buy a place out in the countryside," Harry said, swallowing his exasperation. "As soon as possible. I don't care about getting the best price. I just want the apartment off my hands."

"It is a lovely apartment. Gorgeous view," she said doubtfully. "But are you sure, Mr Potter?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Mrs Carlyle, I don't care what you read in The Daily Prophet or whatever rag you read. Snape and I are separated."

Harry was horrified when a misty expression crossed her eyes. "What if you get your memory back?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," Harry said, through gritted teeth. He forced a smile. It was bad enough that he had to deal with selling an apartment, when he had no idea what the market value for apartments was. It was ridiculous. Even though everybody else seemed to think he was twenty-seven, in his own mind, he was still seventeen. And it seemed like even after ten years, people he didn't know still felt like they had a right to inquire into his personal life.

She still looked doubtful, but she crossed the floor to peer into the kitchens. "Are these real marble benchtops?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably." Everything in the apartment definitely looked expensive.

"Well, Mr Potter, assuming you don't change your mind..."

"I won't," Harry said curtly.

"... then I have no doubt I will have found a buyer for you within a few weeks."

"And about the house in the country?"

She tucked a quill behind her ear. "I believe I have the perfect house that is already on the market."

"Good," Harry said shortly. "Thank you for coming." He walked over to the door and held it open for her. He watched as she left and then he closed the door, slumping against the wall beside it. It felt remarkably like a chapter of his life closing.

-***-

There was a knock on his door. Harry stood up from his packing and walked over to the door. Opening it, he saw Hermione standing there. "You put the apartment on the market?" she asked abruptly, pushing past him. He could see her eyes immediately take in the empty bookcases and tables. "But why?"

"This isn't my home," Harry said quietly as he headed back into the bedroom where he was packing. She followed him and stood at his bedroom door.

Hermione looked sadly at him. "But your memory could return," she said. "It's only been a few weeks."

Harry shrugged. "I don't need to be here for it to return."

"But you could regret it," she insisted. "I know Severus has already left, but if you two got your memory back..." She trailed off.

Harry shook his head. He knew where she was going with that. "We're not getting back together, Hermione," he said quietly.

"But you two are good together," Hermione pleaded. "I know you don't think so now, but when your memory comes back, you'll know it."

Harry ignored her and continued to stuff clothes into his bags. He had seemed to accumulate a remarkable amount of clothing over the past ten years. There were items in his wardrobe that he wasn't even sure that he knew the name of. There also seemed to be a horrifying amount of Potions-making equipment even though Snape had already taken half.

Hermione picked up a cauldron that seemed to be made of pure gold. "Aren't you taking this?" she asked.

Harry stared. "Why?" He was honestly thinking of leaving most of the Potions equipment behind and sending an owl to Snape to see if he wanted it.

"Ron and I gave it to you," she said, with a catch in her voice. "Last year, when we were still together."

"Oh," Harry said. He thought that he probably should say more, but he had only just learned over the past few days he had learned that his best friends had dated for almost five years, were married for about four years and had recently gotten divorced. He found it difficult to muster up more than a slight sympathy for the divorce, especially since he didn't even know the reasons. "I'm sorry," he said finally.

Hermione waved her hand. There were tears in her eyes, which she wiped away. "You don't have to say anything, Harry. You were there for me the entire time last year we were having problems. You were there when I found out that Ron was dating Pansy Parkinson." There was an unpleasant curl to her lip as she said the other woman's name.

Harry blinked. "Parkinson?"

"It's a long story," Hermione said. "You don't want to hear it now." There was a note of finality in her voice.

"If you're sure," Harry said. He walked over and put a hand on her arm. "You know that I'll always be here for you."

Hermione laughed softly. "You'll be here for me from afar anyway," she said.

Harry quirked a smile. "I just can't stay here. Snape is moving to Hogwarts. We're going to sell the apartment. I know that to you and everybody else, we've been in this happy relationship, but ... I just don't feel it."

"I suppose so," Hermione said sadly. "But you two always seemed so happy together. You worked together on Potions, did you know?"

Harry thought he could remember somebody mentioning something about that. "This is all too strange," he said with a sigh.

"I wish you would stay," Hermione said. "But I understand."

Harry zipped up his suitcase and stared at it. Somehow, it felt so strange. He still felt like he was seventeen and at Hogwarts. It didn't feel right that he was packing and leaving his apartment, one that he had apparently lived in with Snape for over five years.

-***-

The house the real estate agent had found for him was really more of a cottage, but Harry put a deposit down on it almost immediately. It was a charming cottage. It had fewer rooms than the apartment he had shared with Snape, but it seemed perfect for him. His half of the furniture looked awkward in the cottage, so Harry vowed to go down to the local village to exchange it for more appropriate furniture as soon as he could.

Harry looked around the cottage with satisfaction. He had examined his bank accounts. He had more than enough money to stay here and do nothing for the rest of his life. He wasn't planning on doing that, but he thought that staying here for the next few years couldn't hurt. They had managed to narrow down the reason for his and Snape's memory loss. It was apparently caused by the potion that was in one of their cauldrons. The Ministry's finest experts agreed that it was probably a memory potion, but they couldn't ascertain what kind of memory potion it was. There weren't any notes regarding the potion that they could find and they weren't even sure if it was an accident or sabotage.

Harry was just sick of being in London and waiting for them to come up with a solution. He was also sick of everybody he knew inquiring about his relationship with Snape. It was better here, in his little cottage, he decided.