Harry breathed in deeply as Severus massaged his temples. The fog was clearing, but he knew he had lost something. He felt it had been important.
"Do you think they're looking for us?"
"Who?"
"I don't know".
"They're not here, Harry. Do you want them to be here?"
"No". He was confused. He didn't remember answers like this but of course there could have been many. He rested his hands against the wall and tried to concentrate but it hurt to think and the mists were coiling around the truths he sought so tightly that he felt it as a noose around his neck.
"Stop trying to think and come to bed".
"I'm not in the mood, Severus".
"It will help".
"It never helps. Not with this".
Severus rolled away and left him to it.
Harry breathed and he tried very hard to remember their names. He remembered radish earrings but that didn't make sense. He remembered a book about Hogwarts and he remembered chess. He thought he played but not well. It would come clearer; it had to. He felt he had lost something that made him himself. Something pure and good and he felt there was a fight out there that he was a part of, but he wasn't out there. There was someone searching, but what was it for?
Harry remembered… but he could only remember pain.