Chapter 25

I actually got around to naming all of the chapters. I'm so proud of myself. I also changed the story description. Not that the story's plot is changed in any way--I'm still going about this the same as I had planned eons ago--but I didn't like the original summary very much. Anyays, this chapter should more or less explain the title, "Memories." I hope you all enjoy, and don't worry, a happy ending will be arriving shortly. Not without a few twists and turns, of course. I have the final chapter finished just the way I want it, just to make sure that I know what direction this is heading in. I want to get this all done before September 2nd, though that may be difficult; of course, encouraging reviews might help me push myself!

"This is the only one I'm having trouble with, sir," said Harry. He reached across the desk and pulled the book closer to him. "I can't get it to work right."

"We'll have to work on it," Dumbledore replied gravely. "Very important spell. Let's see, then..."

As Dumbledore began to explain to Harry the correct way of performing the spell, he found it very difficult to pay attention. Of course, it was absolutely essential that he improve his technique: a spell that allowed the user to shield themselves against most spells for several hours could come in handy. But whenever he allowed his mind to stray for a second, he began to think of Severus, and it was next to impossible to stop once he had started.

He missed everything about the man. He missed the way that he explained complex concepts, his voice slow and patient. He missed the way he smelled, the way he tasted when they kissed, even the way that he sarcastically taunted Harry every once in a while. Even out of the castle, it was impossible not to think about him all of the time.

When they had finally finished, Dumbledore asked, "How is your Occlumency coming along?"

"I haven't practiced in a while," Harry admitted. "I've tried clearing my mind once in a while, but it's been hard." When Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow, he continued, "I can't get him out of my head most nights."

He could hardly believe that he had just shared this information with his Headmaster, but the elderly man did not appear to be surprised. He smiled sadly and shook his head.

"I feared this would happen," he sighed. "Harry, if Voldemort invades your mind, it would mean that he would see all of your memories that have to do with Severus. If he were to escape from the Jones', Voldemort's first order of business would be to kill Severus immediately. There would be no hope for him."

Harry exhaled, the possibility of this happening washing over him like cold water. He could not let that happen to his lover, and yet he doubted that he could become accomplished at Occlumency within six weeks.

"What should I do?" he asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

"I would suggest a very tricky spell," said Dumbledore, "that would allow me to temporarily remove all of the memories regarding your relationship with Severus from your mind. We would deliver them back to you once Voldemort was taken care of."

"What if it doesn't work?" Harry asked. "What if we try to put back the memories and they won't go in or something?"

"Impossible," Dumbledore assured him. "Harry, I know how much this relationship means to the both of you. I would not suggest the spell if there was a risk of you never having the memories again."

Harry was silent, trying to make up his mind. Finally, he said, "Does Severus know about this?"

"He does," Dumbledore replied. "And he agrees that it would be the best thing to do, for the both of you. He has also agreed that I should be the one who keeps your memory safe."

"Will it go into a Pensieve?"

"No, it will not," was the reply. "A Pensieve can be easily tampered with, and if Voldemort were ever to search for your memories, the Pensieve would be the first place for him to look. We have decided that it would be best to store your recollections into some sort of object."

"Do you know what object?"

"Most likely one of the trinkets in my office," Dumbledore answered. Harry recalled the many fascinating instruments that the Headmaster owned: they were very pretty, though they appeared to be rather useless. "I will keep it in my office, of course, for it would look very odd if Voldemort were to find one of these objects in my cloak."

Harry nodded. "Well then, I guess I have no choice. Does this mean I won't have any idea about my relationship with Severus?"

"You will not," he confirmed. "All those around you shall be told not to mention it to you. All you will know, until Voldemort is defeated, is that he was your Potions professor, and that the two of you were not on good terms."

"All right," Harry agreed. It pained him to say these words, and yet he knew that it was necessary. "It seems like the best option right now."

"It does not need to be done this very moment," Dumbledore said kindly. "If you should like one more night to think it over, relive the memories one last time...I shall be here tomorrow morning to perform the spell."

"Thank you, sir."

"That is all, then," Dumbledore said, sinking back into his chair. "You may leave, and please make sure to practice what we learned here until you have perfected it."

"Yes, sir," said Harry. He took his spell book, bid his former Headmaster goodnight, and left for his bedroom.

-o-

"How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked. They were alone in the kitchen, the morning sunlight making its way into the room. The residents of the house were all asleep, with the exception of Mrs Weasley, who was putting the laundry up on the line outside.

Harry grimaced and said, "Nervous."

"There is nothing to worry about," said Dumbledore. "I am quite skilled as far as this spell goes, given that I have had to use it on multiple occasions. There will be no pain, and when it is over, you will feel as though nothing has happened.

"Right," Harry said, taking a seat at the table. "Well, I'm ready."

And he was. He had gotten no sleep the night before, as he had spent it tossing and turning in his sheets. He could see Severus' face in his mind as vividly as if he were there and he was watching him: sculpted, beautiful, and elegantly masculine, he longed to touch that perfect visage. He recalled their nights spent together in bliss, whispering each other's names and revelling in the divine feeling of skin against skin. He had spent the entire night with those memories, cherishing them, living them over again, and he knew that he had to protect them from Voldemort. Even if it meant temporarily losing them.

The readiness he felt must have been evident on his face, for Dumbledore beamed and lifted his wand.

"It is best to get it over with quickly," he explained. "I must ask you to close your eyes and stay still; I shall do the rest."

Harry followed the orders and shut his eyes tight, fearful of what would happen next.

"When I take your memories, I shall put them in a vial," Dumbledore spoke, "and I will then leave to put them into one of the objects we discussed earlier."

Harry had barely voiced his understanding when he felt something crash heavily onto his head: he wondered wildly if the roof had caved in. He felt no pain, however, and so he managed to keep himself from opening his eyes. All went quiet and he heard no sounds other than the low rumble of Dumbledore's voice; he could not make out the words that he was pronouncing.

He then lost consciousness.

-o-

"Go and take the box downstairs."

"With the other ones?"

"No, no, just that one. Your father should be down there; ask him if he wants these books."

"Right."

Harry opened his eyes slowly, nearly blinded by the bright light before him. He had to blink several times before he could make out the forms of Mrs Weasley, Fred, and George.

He made to speak but coughed instead, alerting them to his presence at once.

"Harry," Mrs Weasley breathed, coming to his side. "I'm so sorry, dear, we didn't mean to wake you."

"That's fine," he mumbled, squinting against the light coming from her wand. It was otherwise dark in the room.

"We were just moving things around for when Ron and Hermione get here," she explained, motioning to a bed in the corner that had not been there before.

"When they get here?" he asked, sitting up. "How long have I been out for?"

"Only a few hours," she said quickly. "But it's already May, and a few other Order members will be staying, so it's good to get everyone comfortable."

Harry watched as the twins grabbed the last box and took it outside of the room. He waited a moment, then asked, "What happened?"

Mrs Weasley hesitated. After a moment's deliberation, she went, "Harry, I don't know how much you remember, but Professor Dumbledore had to take away certain memories of yours."

It all came back to him at once: their conversation, the sensations he had felt once the spell had been used on him, and yet...

"I can't remember what it was he took away," Harry said. Which had been the point of the whole thing, of course, but it was still an unusual sensation. He strained himself to remember, but it was impossible: he could recall sitting with Dumbledore, discussing the idea of removing his memories, but he could not bring to mind which had been taken away. The spell had apparently worked, much to his sudden irritation.

"Yes, well, he told us that it all went very well," Mrs Weasley said softly. "You should remember everything except what he meant to take away. The memories are all carefully stored somewhere, and once this whole thing is over, you can have them back."

"What did he end up putting them in?"

"I believe one of the knickknacks in his office," she said. "Which I must agree is probably the best choice. Voldemort would hardly just walk in and start blasting everything for no reason. Now, Harry, I've got to finish setting up the rooms. You had better get some rest."

She left the room, and Harry immediately attempted to recall the memories. Had they involved Ron and Hermione? No, that wouldn't make any sense, for it was already evident to everyone that they were his friends; there was no point in hiding that from Voldemort. Did he know something about the dark wizard that he could use to destroy him? No, that couldn't make any sense either, since he wasn't allowed to get the memories back until Voldemort was dead.

Had Harry perhaps learned a very dangerous spell that they couldn't risk Voldemort learning? There was a good possibility that Dumbledore had not meant for anyone to know it, and Harry had accidentally walked in when someone had been using it. This was probable, and yet there was no way of being certain. It wasn't as though anyone could tell him.

And though he knew that it was for the best, he couldn't help but be severely annoyed. He now knew how Ginny had felt in his second year, when she had had lapses in her memory when taken over by Tom Riddle. It was torturous, knowing that something was so close to being remembered, and yet also knowing that he could not know what it was for quite some time.

Whatever it was, he decided before falling asleep, it was bound to be extremely important, which naturally made the fact that he had forgotten it all the more frustrating.