Snape had walked back to his assigned room. He would not have minded the wheelchair this time, but he believed he that was a man of principle. Doctor Thurstin had apologized for what had happened, seeing that Snape had become very upset. But Snape was not upset by the failing of the bookshelf. He was upset about that he knew that he had somehow done it. He had been given a paper copy of the Christmas card and the city arms from a strange big machine. Very poor quality paper, he noticed, and is was not even in colour. It was a strange felling, but he felt that everything around him was some how inferior to his usual standards. He thought about what the doctor had said about his seemingly good education. The thought made him smile, one of those rare, comfortable, recognizable smug smiles, he liked being smart. He settled down on the bed staring at the pictures.

Lucius Malfoy sat on the good couch in the drawing room, the one that had not been ripped apart by uncultivated Aurors. He did not like the uncertainty of the upcoming trial of his finances, there had not even been a date settled yet. He did not like the people treating his ancestral home as a kind of halfway house, but at least they were amusing. He had been listening to them talking for a while now. Draco was sitting beside him, still in those awful prison clothes, which only brought bad memories, and bound hands. Draco did not seem to mind.

He looked over to the transfigured bed that held Harry Potter. He wondered what it was about his wife's antique chairs that made these people wanting to turn them into beds.

"So what you are saying…" said Molly Weasley, "…is that we can wake him with this magic?"

"The Aboriginals have very strong dream magic," said the muggleborn girl. "They showed me a ritual to let someone enter someone else's dream."

"How would that wake him?" asked Bill Weasley.

"When I described the problem, they thought that he could be waked if we convinced him to do so."

"Are you saying that he could wake up if he wanted to?" asked the mother Weasley looking shocked.

"He is in a healing sleep to fight the venom," explained Hermione. "His mind keeps him asleep so he will not be poisoned to death."

"What kind of poison?" asked Lucius, for the first time feeling the need to speak.

"A poison made by Professor Snape so that he would be immune to Nagini's bite," clarified the girl. "He was slowly poisoning Draco for the same purpose as well, that is why neither of them is dead or like Harry now."

Lucius pulled his son closer to him; Draco looked quite surprised, even scared, by the sudden show of affection.

"Is there an antidote?"

"Only Professor Snape knows, and he has lost his memory," sighed Ronald Weasley. "George and Fred are looking for him now."

"But you have his memories," said Draco. "Can you not just look at them and find out the antidote?"

"It is not just finding an antidote…" Lucius thought out loud. "It is also Severus' skill, his experience and his personal magic."

"Correct," Hermione rubbed her head. "The problem is that it takes strong magic to put the Professors memory back. The only one alive with that kind of magic is Harry. And he is… well." She looked over at the sleeping figure.

"He can not be the only one," snorted Lucius.

"Well, okay, maybe not the only one," admitted the girl.

"But he is the only one we know of," Ron filled in. "And Snape gave the memories to Harry when he thought he was going to die. That makes the memories Harry's property."

The others stared at him. Molly had a proud smile on her face.

"What?" He looked hurt. "I know stuff too!"

The nurse looked between the excited twins and the uniformed policeman. Goodman rolled his eyes, Fred and George acted like five year olds at a fieldtrip. Once he had gotten them in their seatbelts he had seriously been considering committing them, and then himself.

"Are they next of kin?" asked the nurse, glancing at George who had became fascinated by a stapler and Fred who was nervously fiddling with a wooden knitting needle of some sort, spinning it between his fingers.

"I think he is in range now," said Fred.

"Hrm," Goodman cleared his throat a little embarrassed, not knowing the woman's reaction. "That man is his boyfriend."

"Oh," the nurse blushed. "Well…" she looked ashamed of herself. "That is not really next of kin. I am really sorry. I have to call the doctor before I can take you to the patient."

Goodman nodded, giving her a comforting smile.

"He is that way!" Fred was pointing with his knitting needle.

"Finally some headway," said George putting down the stapler.

The twins began to walk though the corridor.

"Hello!" called the nurse, phone receiver to her ear. "You are not allowed to go there!"

"I will get them," said Goodman following the two. "Mr. Weasley!"

"Here Simon," called one of them. "We found him!"

Goodman sped up and entered the room the twins had entered. There was a man on the bed in a too big hospital robe. The man stared at the twins.

"George?" he asked George.

"No," said George. "I'm George. He is Fred."

At that Fred jumped into the man's arms pressing their lips together.

"Highly improper behaviour," murmured the dark man in an angry tone between the kisses. "You aught to know how to behave at your age."

Goodman looked confused to George who almost beamed.

"That is our professor," he sighed.

"Professor?"

Goodman and George turned around to see a man in a white coat.

"Doctor Thurstin," he introduced himself. "Did you say that he is your professor?"

"Stop this public display of affection immediately!" said the man in the bed in a scolding voice that made everyone in the room freeze.

"Merlin, I love you," laughed Fred.

"Merlin?" asked Thurstin, obviously not at all taken aback by the two men's loving embrace. "So his name is not Severus?"

"So what is the plan?" asked Charlie.

"One of us will enter Harry's dream," said Hermione, clearly the one in charge of the operation. "Convince him to wake long enough to either help Professor Snape or hand over the ownership of the memories. Then we have to put him under again before the poison takes effect."

"How do we do that?"

"An ordinary stasis spell would do," she looked a little hesitant. "I think."

"You said 'convince', dear," Molly wrung her hands.

"It is not certain that he wants to wake up," Hermione stroked Harry's hair. "Even with the nightmares, he could prefer this state to the… difficulty and pain of being awake and facing reality."

"I want to do it!" said Draco.