"You recall what I told you about prolonged separation from a memory, Hermione?" The Headmaster sat behind his desk and regarded her calmly. It had been nearly a year and a half, now, and he'd been expecting her within the week. The side effects were quite predictable in this sort of situation.
"Yes, Sir, but I was hopeful that it wouldn't apply to me," she answered honestly. She smiled at him slightly, in spite of the sick feeling that was growing in her stomach. She remembered quite plainly what he'd told her:
Miss Granger, you have surely noticed by now that you are unable to remember the last four days. Please do not interrupt me as I explain the reason. You were taken captive by Death Eaters – Dolohov and Avery, I believe, have mentioned to Professor Snape that they were involved. They treated you harshly, but are quite frustrated that you told them nothing. You found a wand and managed to escape. However, after a day of being treated for your injuries, you came to me to request that the memories of your ordeal be removed from your mind to give you time to come to grips with the concept." At this point she recalled the shudder that had gone through her at the realization that those memories must have been traumatic indeed, for her to have hidden from them in such a cowardly fashion.
She'd done it for Harry, of course. That's what she'd told herself, and the Headmaster had agreed that it would be better for Harry not to know what had befallen her. If she'd had to deal with the trauma then, Harry would certainly have noticed. Furthermore, she herself would have been of little use in the fighting that had followed.
Now, however, the struggle was over. Voldemort was dead, and no one had to tip toe around Harry for fear of adversely affecting the outcome of the battle. Her excuses had run out, and it was time to face the past. More than time, she knew, as she recalled his dire warning:
This is only a temporary measure, Hermione. One day soon, you will have to reclaim these memories. The consequences of failing to do so are severe. At first it will be only nightmares you cannot remember, but soon after that you will begin experiencing moments of inexplicable distraction. You've heard the phrase, "State of Grace?" In the end, it could lead to a complete breakdown of your mind, not substantially different than the fate of Frank and Alice Longbottom."
Of course, at this, she'd asked why he couldn't just Obliviate her. It would be so simple if she didn't ever have to worry about the memories again. He'd had a reason, though she couldn't recall at the moment what it had been. Whatever it was, she'd been swayed by it at the time, and agreed to reclaim the memories as soon as she felt far enough removed from the situation to deal with them. She paused as he continued to gaze at her sadly, wondering if her lapse of memory was yet another symptom. It was that thought which resolved her. She would do what she had to do. Only, not just yet.
"The rules apply to everyone eventually, my dear," he answered finally. He stood, then, and went to the cupboard to bring out the Pensieve. But Hermione stood as well.
"I'd like to wait until after Harry's birthday party," she said abruptly. Without turning to look at her, Professor Dumbledore replaced the bowl on its shelf, schooling the disappointment away from his features before he turned back to her.
"Very well, Miss Granger. You should return on August first, and plan to spend a few days with Madam Pomfrey." It wouldn't do for her to see disapproval of any kind from him, as it might negatively affect her healing process when the time finally came.
"Yes, Sir," she said again, a trifle too quickly. And then she was gone. He sat silently at his desk for some time before one of the portraits pointed out that it was nearly time for lunch.
Hedwig had returned with Severus' response in a very bad mood. It seemed that he'd snubbed her again, and sent her back without a treat. Harry made it up to her by opening the jar and setting it in front of her on the windowsill. Ginny snorted in annoyance. "You'll make her sick," she commented, taking the jar away and leaving only three treats out on the sill.
Harry wasn't listening, however, as he unrolled the letter.
Naturally, you may come to the castle at any time. Has anyone ever told you differently? I'll be meeting with Draco until this evening, but you may come then, or at any other time this week. I don't imagine I'll be brewing much, so you'll have to track me down in my quarters, or at meals.
Regards,
SS
He penned a quick response that he would come for supper at Hogwarts the following Thursday, knowing that Severus hated both waiting, and being surprised before he was prepared. He fished a few more owl treats out of the jar and gave them to Hedwig before asking her to take the letter.
Ginny laughed when Hedwig hooted indignantly and snatched the letter from his hand, rather than waiting for it to be tied to her leg. She took off without waiting to hear whether she was expected to return with a response.
"Honestly, that bird's nearly human," Harry groused. "And she's just as bad as Ron and Hermione when it comes to Severus."
"Be fair, Hermione's always been kind to him," Ginny said. She had no intention of telling Harry about his friends' potion fiasco.
Harry snorted his disbelief, and poured himself a butterbeer, joining her at the kitchen table. "She just likes arguing with Ron."
"True enough," Ginny agreed readily. It was common knowledge that Hermione and Ron could fight better than anyone they knew. They shared a grin, and Ginny went back to peeling potatoes, sedately, and without the fuss that her over-wrought mother was known for. Harry's mind wondered to Thursday, and he began to plan out the conversation in earnest.
Harry was seated at the Head Table talking with Filius long before Severus made an appearance. "I don't know why she didn't choose Charms. I promise it wasn't because she had less fun in your class, though," Harry answered jokingly as the short Professor expressed his despair over 'losing' Hermione to a different field of study.
"After all, no class could possibly be LESS fun than mine, right Potter?" Severus asked scathingly from behind him. A few of those seated nearby grimaced, waiting for the worst.
"Absolutely," Harry agreed, without missing a beat.
Severus simply grunted in response, and, when his food appeared, began to eat. From the middle of the table, Dumbledore smiled over at him, but he pretended not to notice. After a few bites, he turned his attention back to Harry.
"Well, are you going to tell me what merited a formal request to visit?" he asked.
"Not just yet," Harry answered, his demeanor changing immediately to one of seriousness. "I think maybe that conversation is best had over a bottle of Old Ogden's."
"Indeed?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't question Harry any further, however, until dinner was quite finished, and they were ensconced in the dungeons, pouring the whiskey. Even then, his question was little more than a raised eyebrow.
Harry took a generous swallow before he began, more to give the impression that he needed it than because he actually did. "I took a stroll through Knockturn Alley," he began heavily. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Severus' brow furrowed.
"Did you find something worthwhile?" he asked after a moment.
There was silence. Harry pulled his wand and lit a fire silently. Severus was always absurdly pleased when he managed such things. Never mind that he was completely proficient at it – the act reminded Severus that he'd been the one to teach Harry the skill. And Harry needed the older man in the role of mentor for the purposes of this conversation.
"I wasn't looking," he admitted finally, collapsing into the chair that Draco always shunned, and looking expectantly at Severus.
The Professor, for his part, was sure that the boy was up to something. There was just a hint of I orchestration /I about the conversation thus far that didn't sit well with him. As he couldn't pinpoint the source of his discomfort, however, he made the decision to play along. He nodded knowingly, though he wasn't sure he knew just where Harry was headed.
"Fact is, I miss it a bit. The adrenaline, I mean," he clarified, when Severus continued to gaze at him, unfazed. "Life has slowed to almost a stand-still. This last year, we've faced nothing more dangerous than Avery and Wormtail, both of whom were severely wounded, and not at all inclined to actually duel. If it hadn't been for Ron going out of his head with Avery, I don't think he'd have resisted us at all. We could have frog-marched him to Azkaban in one of Molly's sweaters."
"You're telling me that you are … bored?" Severus suggested skeptically.
"Not exactly," came the quick response. Harry stood and poured himself another drink. He dribbled just a bit into the glass, with his back to Severus, and then pretended to down a large quantity, not drinking any. "I just don't feel very useful anymore," he said as he made his way back to his chair.
"Ridiculous," Severus snapped. "There are very few useful people in the world as it is, without you basking in self pity. Next you'll be telling me you wish the Dark Lord were still alive!"
"Of course not," Harry said wearily. "How could I? Those were awful times, and I know it better than anyone. But for all the worry and anger, there was excitement, too, and adventure. For all the fear, there was the potential for victory – and for – " he stopped speaking abruptly and stared into the fire for several long minutes. "- for some justification for my existence."
He met Severus' concerned eyes, and knew what he read there. "Don't worry," he continued easily. "I'm not contemplating suicide or anything. I just mean that I lived my whole life for one event, and it took place before I was even a qualified wizard. Nothing else I've got to live for – not even the things that really make me happy – will ever seem quite as significant as that. I'll always be defined by what I did as a kid, but I'll never have such a task again."
"You're one chance for glory wasn't enough?" Severus scoffed.
Harry shot him an annoyed look, certain that he was playing stupid on purpose. "I should have realized you wouldn't understand." He stood suddenly, and placed his tumbler next to the bottle of Ogden's, feeling that Severus had somehow seen through his plan and was about to make a mockery of it. He was halfway to the door when a quiet voice behind him brought him up short.
"I doubted that such a thing could affect you. Albus had me so convinced of your innate I goodness /I that I had difficulty believing you might miss the danger. Perhaps I was incorrect." Severus ground this out with difficulty. This was not a topic he had ever foreseen having to converse about, and certainly not with a Gryffindor. Yes, he'd caught himself feeling nostalgic over the dangerous times he'd weathered, but he'd never expected that Harry might feel the same.
Harry could tell that the admission had cost him something, and knew he was on even more dangerous footing now than he'd been at the beginning. "I've thought on several occasions that I was letting him down, feeling this way. I don't imagine he ever would. I can't imagine him pinning over the days of Grindelwald. Can you?"
Severus snorted in response, and stood to pour himself another drink. When he resumed his seat, Harry did likewise. "Certainly not. But the Headmaster is not all goodness and light, either. In order to defeat the Dark, you must know it, as you and I have both learned. To our detriment, I might add." He tossed back his drink and went for another, sipping it, but not slowly.
"He was in my head the whole time, you know," Harry said quietly. Severus nodded. THIS they had spoken of before. "He was telling me the most awful things. Trying to break me down. Taunting me about my weaknesses. Telling me how his Death Eaters had enjoyed hurting Hermione, how they'd laughed as they made Ron scream. But I wasn't as weak-minded as he thought. I'd learned that all he ever told were lies. Learned that from what happened to Sirius." Here he stopped. He'd failed to notice Severus' shiver in response to the Dark Lord's assertions. Hadn't seen the fleeting look of guilt that crossed the pale man's face. He'd gotten so involved in what he was saying that his plan had flown from his mind. Perhaps he'd needed this conversation more than he had realized?
"You were strong enough, as it turns out," Severus answered, "But being strong is no less admirable now, in a time of peace, than it was then. Consider yourself fortunate that your strength is no longer necessary to your survival." As he spoke the words, he turned them over in his own mind, feeling that they fit snugly into an emptiness he had been feeling for months. It was a shame that, in the days to follow, they would afford Harry less comfort than they offered to Severus himself. He would have to begin planning his response to Harry's despair when he discovered, as he surely would soon, that Ron and Hermione had indeed been captured and tortured. THEN, he was sure, Harry's strength would give out, which is precisely why the Headmaster had required them to put aside their memories at the time. Harry could not have been allowed to falter in those crucial hours of battle. But falter he would, and Severus had resigned himself a year ago to being the one to uphold him when the time came. Merlin knew Hermione wouldn't have the strength for it. Everyone would be in shock except himself, and the Headmaster – the only two people in Harry's immediate orbit who had enough skill at Occlumency to keep things from him.
Severus snorted again, upon realizing that he'd just considered himself to be in Harry's orbit. He covered it well. "Enough of this," he said firmly. "Go home to your wife, Potter. No doubt she would be displeased to discover that you've been risking life and limb in Knockturn Alley for thrills."
"No doubt," Harry agreed sardonically, raising and draining his glass in a silent salute. Severus did likewise, and then followed him to the door of his quarters.
Harry was half way through the Potions classroom before he turned. "Thanks," he said quietly.
"You are always welcome at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter," Severus replied, smirking at the double entendre of his response. Harry only shook his head in mock exasperation and turned his feet toward home. The evening's conversation had been a success after all. The prickly Professor had come to the conclusion Harry had been guiding him towards from the beginning.
