AN: Well, I never thought I'd be coming back with a story under these strange circumstances. I hope you're all well and coping as best you can.

This fic, as is usual with my stuff, parts company with canon around the middle of book 6. I've retained some elements but these will become apparent as we continue with the story. I'll be updating every week on a Friday, so I hope you all enjoy it!

Chapter 1

Severus closed his eyes and tried to block out the noise coming from the corridor outside his hospital room. He could feel a headache of phenomenal proportions brewing behind his eyes and it was taking all the resources he had to try and ward and it off.

Outside his room, there was uproar. Inside his own head, it wasn't much better. He was still fairly certain that someone was playing a practical joke on him. True, it would be in the worst possible taste, and would have taken an inordinate amount of organisation, all the way down to roping in the staff at St Mungo's. Still, he was having trouble believing that it was in fact 2014, not halfway through 1997 as he believed.

It was only once he had taken a good look at the faces around him and indeed had had a chance to look at his own face that he had to concede that perhaps he wasn't the victim of a vicious trick. It made things no less disconcerting to reach this acceptance, and the fact that he had apparently lost 17 years of his life felt like reason enough to panic, had he been so disposed to such a reaction.

As it was, he only had the testimony of those around him to attempt to fill in the blanks and one blank had been filled with something that provoked nothing less than horror in him. He was married. Worse still, he was married to the sodding Boy-Who-Lived. What in all the circles of hell had happened to instigate that catastrophe?

He looked down at his hand and eyed the slim wedding band on his finger with distaste. The first thing he had seen upon waking in his hospital bed was Potter slumped in the armchair next to him, his head lolled to one side as he slept. He had stirred as Severus coughed, green eyes opening then widening, and the next thing Severus had known, he had had his arms full of the wretch.

It had taken every ounce of restraint he possessed not to hex the boy into the middle of next week. Potter had pulled back, overjoyed to see him awake, and a dim part of Severus' brain had registered the changes in the face he had known. It took merely minutes for Potter to realise that something clearly wasn't right and that was when all hell broke loose.

Potter was currently in the corridor with several of the healers who had been treating him. The Weasley boy and, inexplicably enough, Draco were with him. It seemed that he'd been in some kind of coma for a few weeks after being involved in some sort of accident. Beyond that, he knew nothing about the circumstances that had landed in hospital with 17 years of memories missing.

As far as his mind was telling him, he was halfway through Potter's 6th year at Hogwarts, but the evidence of his own eyes told him that Potter was nearer to 30 than he was to 16. He had also had a moment to examine his own face in the mirror. He was older, true, but he looked better than he had done in years prior.

He had a fuller physique and was no longer bordering on emaciated. His skin was still pale but his face had lost the sallow look that he had had for so many years. His hair was peppered with grey but it was clean and well-managed and although his face showed a few age lines, it seemed to have lost its harshness.

With a frustrated growl, Severus threw the bedcovers aside and headed for the door. Potter was in the corridor speaking with Weasley in hushed, unhappy tones. Severus inched the door open a crack and tried to listen to what was being said.

"I never thought I'd see him look at me like that again," Potter said, shaking his head. "Not after all this time."

"It's not him, you know that," Weasley said, grasping Potter's shoulders. "It's the curse, or the accident or…whatever he's been hit with. The healers will figure something out and things will go back to normal."

"And in the meantime?" Potter asked, looking forlorn. "How do we…how do I cope?"

Weasley sighed and lowered his hands. "Like you always do, mate."

Potter gave a humourless laugh then rubbed at his face tiredly. He stared down the corridor for a few moments, his eyes vacant, then turned back to Weasley and said, "The healers said I can take him home, no point him staying here for the time being. I'm just not sure…I don't think it's a good idea for Gabe – "

"Don't worry about it. He's fine with me and Drake for now."

Potter looked relieved and said, "Thanks. I think that'll be for the best. It's going to be hard enough as it is."

He ran a hand through hair that was as dishevelled as Severus remembered it. He gave Weasley a strained smile then pulled him into a brief hug. "I'll come over to your place tomorrow, ok?" he said, pulling back.

Weasley nodded and Potter clapped him on the arm before he began to move down the corridor towards Severus' room. Severus had just enough time to place himself back on the bed before Potter came back in.

"Oh, you're still awake," Potter said, moving to hover awkwardly by the bed. "Um…I've spoken with your healers and they're happy to release you under a program of procedures."

"Oh?" Severus asked with a raised eyebrow, wondering how much of Potter's hand-wringing he could stand.

Potter nodded and perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, his posture suggesting that he expected Severus to tell him to get off at any moment. Severus considered it.

"They're still not sure how to restore your memories, or whether this amnesia is a biological matter or a magical one. For now, they've agreed that the best thing to do is to acclimatise you to your present life slowly and to try and jog your memory through a series of pensieve memories. My pensieve memories to be exact."

"I'm to be subjected to your interpretation of our past together?" Severus asked and Potter looked at the floor, appearing to try and collect himself.

He took a breath then looked up and squared his shoulders. "I know this is a lot to take in," Potter said, his voice level. "I can't imagine how I'd react in this situation, but…we are married, we have a life together. I want you to be able to remember that life and the healers agree that the best way would be to show you pieces of how we built that life. It might…jog something. At the very least it will fill in the gaps, answer all the questions you must have."

Severus heaved a reluctant sigh and said, "Very well. I suppose I have no choice but to comply. And I'm to be released to your custody?"

"I'm your next of kin and…the healers think it might help for you to see our home, to be surrounded by your things."

"The home I remember is my dungeon rooms at Hogwarts," Severus said and Potter nodded, looking pained.

"I know," he said quietly. "We…we've lived in our current home for nearly seven years. It's in Cornwall, on the south coast. We had it specially built, you were very involved in the design process," Potter said, the ghost of a smile flitting across his face. "If it makes you uncomfortable or if you'd rather stay somewhere else then I'm sure we could arrange a hotel or – "

"That won't be necessary," Severus said, waving a dismissive hand. The last thing he needed was Potter fussing over him like an old maid.

"Very well. I'll leave you to get dressed and I'll go and sign the discharge papers. Just come and find me at reception when you're ready."

Potter looked very much as though he wanted to reach out and touch him, but Severus schooled his features into enough of a glare to deter such action. Potter nodded and disappeared from the room again, leaving Severus to sort himself out.

He retrieved his clothes from the nightstand and dressed himself, glad to be out of the hospital pyjamas. Someone had brought a washbag into the hospital along with a change of clothes, and Severus shrank them down and put them in his pocket. At least his magic seemed unaffected, if nothing else.

He tried to find something else to do, something that would prevent him from having to go out into the corridor and face the hideously adult version of the boy he remembered. He didn't want to be taken to a place that he couldn't remember by a man he didn't want to be with.

He felt oddly vulnerable, despite the fact that he knew he was in no danger. He didn't know what he was walking into, what kind of life he was being thrown into. He couldn't conceive a world where he shared an existence with Potter of all people. He wasn't used to feeling so at a loss and it wasn't an experience he was keen to repeat anytime soon.

Still, he hadn't shied away from danger or adversity in many years, and he wasn't about to start now. It was only Potter after all. He took a deep breath and grabbed his bag, then made his way out into the corridor. Potter was at one of the nurse's stations, nodding at a navy-robed person as he signed a stack of forms.

"Ah, Professor," said the woman, looking up as he approached. Potter looked up too but Severus refused to meet his stare. "I'm Healer Sanderson. I was just telling your husband what to expect in the next few weeks."

Severus tried to stop his lip from curling at the word 'husband', though he wasn't sure he was successful. He nodded for the woman to continue, feeling Potter's eyes on him as he did so.

"I will visit twice a week to run diagnostics on you, as well as to test a number of memory-recovery spells. In the meantime, your husband will be showing you a series of pensieve memories while helping to acclimatise yourself to your present life."

"And how likely is it that I'll recover my memory?" Severus asked.

"To be frank, I have no idea. I wouldn't wish to give you false hope, nor do I want to lie to you. We will do everything we can, of course, but I shall make no promises."

"Very well," Severus said, finding himself strangely appreciative of her honesty.

"If you'll just sign the release from, you can be on your way."

She handed Severus a quill and he took it, looking down at the forms in front of him. This was his last chance to back out, to save himself from Potter's custody. Of course, rationally he knew that he had nowhere else to go. He had money, he was certain, but, logically, if he was to regain his memory he knew he would need Potter's help.

He signed his name, a nasty feeling of finality settling in the pit of his stomach. Knowing it was inescapable, he turned to face Potter. Thankfully, the man refrained from smiling at him and instead said, "If you'll come with me to the reception area I can apparate us both home."

Severus gave a tight nod and followed Potter as he walked swiftly to the next level and the large, airy entrance hall of the hospital. Potter turned to face him and cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"If you wouldn't mind taking my arm," he said stiffly, holding his arm towards Severus.

Severus wrapped his long fingers around Potter's forearm, gripping tightly. Potter gave him a tight-lipped smile then Severus felt the world move sideways. His eyes squeezed shut and he held his breath as the sensation overwhelmed him. When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in a large, pretty kitchen.

He let go of Potter's arm immediately and resisted the urge to wipe his palm on his trousers. There were only so many hurt looks from the man he could take.

"I um…I'll take you up to your room and get you settled. Then I can show you around and we can…talk about how you want to play things."

Severus nodded, noting that Potter had become no better with words in his adulthood. The man led him through the kitchen and out into a roomy entrance hall. They ascended a large staircase and Severus was led down a landing to the furthest room. Potter opened the door and gestured for Severus to proceed.

The room was spacious and tastefully decorated. There was a king-size bed beneath an open sash window and a tall armoire in the corner. There were two armchairs positioned in front of a modest fireplace. A door in the far corner led to what Severus assumed must be an en-suite bathroom.

"This is our bedroom, but of course I won't be sharing it with you. I'll move my things out to one of the guestrooms later."

Severus could see the signs that the room was lived in and that two different personalities occupied it. One bedside table was neat and ordered, with a couple of books, a pair of reading glasses and an empty drinking tumbler. The other was messy and strewn with all manner of things. Severus didn't need to guess whose was whose.

There were other knick-knacks around the room that spoke of a life lived within the walls. There were photos on a dressing table, but Severus had no wish to examine them. His mind was muddled enough as it was without adding to the issue.

Potter cleared his throat and said, "The house is built over four floors. There are six bedrooms on this one, with two bathrooms, then on the floor below there's the living room, dining room, kitchen and library. In the basement you have your lab, and in the attic are my workrooms."

Severus used a moment's brainpower to wonder what Potter might need workrooms for but was more interested in what the man had said about his lab.

"I have a laboratory here?" he asked.

"Yes," Potter replied. "You have a mail-order business. You produce the basics but you also take personal commissions. You're a guest editor for several potions journals too. You have…considerable standing within the community."

Severus couldn't deny that that was gratifying to learn. He hadn't considered actually surviving the final war, but when he had imagined it, he thought it likely he would be a pariah, vilified by the press and public alike. To know that that hadn't been his fate was confusing but comforting nevertheless.

"Shall we…go and have a coffee and discuss things?" Potter asked, and Severus nodded reluctantly. He didn't want to discuss anything with the man, he didn't want to sit in a house that he didn't recognise in a life that wasn't his own. Still, he had no other option, so he followed Potter back down the stairs mutely.

Potter went back into the kitchen and Severus hung back to take a look around. It seemed that he and Potter had a very comfortable existence; the house was beautiful and not the sort of place Severus would ever have imagined himself living in.

It was tasteful and elegant; Potter clearly had a better eye for décor than he would have credited. It was attractive but lived in, clearly a home that was occupied and not kept sterile and untouched.

Knowing that he couldn't avoid it forever, he sighed and made his way to the kitchen. The room was a departure in style from the rest of the house and looked like something one might find in a country farmhouse. It was spotlessly clean with everything in its appointed place. There was a large aga, upon which a kettle was whistling, and cups and crockery were set out on a long, attractive wooden table.

Potter filled a waiting cafetiere and gave it a few moments before pressing the plunger down. He brought it over to the table and grabbed one of the waiting cups.

"Just a little milk," Severus said, taking a seat.

Potter raised his head with a smile and said, "I know. I've been making it for years."

Severus tried not to let his expression turn too sour. He wanted no reminders that he and Potter shared a life together, it was too incomprehensible for words.

Potter slid his mug over and Severus accepted it with a mumbled thank you. It was, of course, just as he liked it, and even seemed to be the specific blend that he had always bought from a coffee shop in London. It should have been comforting but instead it made him prickle at the thought that his life was no longer his own.

Potter took a sip of his coffee then wrapped his hands around the mug, holding his bottom lip between his teeth while he gazed thoughtfully across the room. Severus glimpsed the slim wedding ring on Potter's finger and was reminded of its twin sitting on his own. It felt alien and uncomfortable, and Severus resolved to remove it at the first opportunity.

"I um…I'll need a couple of days to get things sorted," Potter said eventually, his forefinger tapping lightly against his mug. "I need to figure out what memories to show you, what order to put them in. In the meantime…I don't know…I suppose we just need to acclimatise you to…life as it is now."

Severus raised an eyebrow. He had no idea what 'life as it is now' meant, or how he was supposed to share it with Potter. He also had little desire to trawl through Potter's starry-eyed memories of their courtship. Indeed, the idea made him faintly nauseous.

"Are there any questions you want to ask me?" Potter asked, the schooled passivity in his face not quite convincing.

"Not off the top of my head," Severus replied, feeling irrationally defensive at the question.

Potter nodded. "Well…I don't want to overwhelm you with information. 17 years is a long time to…" Potter shook his head, his messy hair falling in his eyes in a way that made him look more boyish than his mature features should have allowed.

"Would you like to see your lab?" Potter asked, his expression hopeful.

It occurred to Severus that he would. He had never had his own laboratory; his makeshift one at Hogwarts didn't really count. Judging by what he had seen so far he expected the lab would have had the same amount of money spent on it, and that he would have put a great deal of care and attention into its creation.

"Yes, that would be acceptable," he replied, draining the remainder of his coffee and looking at Potter expectantly.

Potter took the hint and stood up, Severus following as the man led him to a door in the far corner of the room. They walked down a spiral stone staircase to the basement below and Potter stepped aside to let Severus get a good look at the room.

It was far better than he had expected. State of the art equipment lined many a work surface and the walls housed heavily-laden bookcases. There was a stock of cauldrons, all of varying sizes and metals, and the whole room was organised with his customary neatness and attention to detail.

Over in the corner was a beautifully ornate yet functional table, as ordered as he would expect it to be. He moved over to it and ran his fingers along the edge, feeling a spark of familiarity but nothing more.

"All your business paperwork is in the blue files and your research notes for the journals are in the red ones. Or so you tell me."

"So I tell you?" Severus echoed, turning back to face the man.

Potter grinned at him and said, "I'm seldom allowed in here."

"That I can believe."

Potter chuckled. "You don't trust me around your potions, although once or twice we've – " Potter broke off abruptly, his cheeks flushing. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat, and Severus didn't have to be a mind reader to guess what Pooter had been about to say.

He was thankful the man had stopped himself. He had no wish to know what shenanigans they might have got up to in this room. He was doing everything in his power to block out the notion that he had carnal knowledge of the man in front of him. It was too ridiculous, too bizarre to countenance.

"Anyway," Potter continued, obviously flustered, "the editors of the journals you contribute to have been told that you're out of commission until further notice and your regular customers have been redirected to Teddy."

"Teddy?" Severus repeated, baffled.

"Nott. Um…sorry, Theodore Nott," Potter clarified. "He was your apprentice while he trained and he's now teaching at Hogwarts. He's keeping the regular orders ticking over."

"Nott," Severus said, somewhat surprised. The last he remembered the boy had been heading down the same road as his father. It seemed unlikely that he hadn't taken the Mark and subsequently ended up dead or in prison.

"You did right by your Slytherins," Potter said quietly. "If it weren't for you…many of them would have fought for Voldemort and would no doubt be dead by now. You're responsible for…a lot of good."

It had been in the back of his mind of course; the war. It was obvious that they had prevailed but he had no idea what that meant, practically speaking.

"It's a conversation for another time," Potter said gently and Severus agreed. There was too much to try and take in already without adding that knowledge to the mix.

"Draco…he's ok though?" he asked. "I saw him at the hospital…with Weasley."

Potter smiled and it was surprisingly fond. "He's good. He and Ron are married."

"They're what?" Severus asked, too surprised to say anything more coherent.

"I know, it seems unlikely," Potter said with a laugh.

"As unlikely as us being married," Severus muttered and Potter's smile dimmed.

"They love each other, they're very happy. Draco broke away from his family; he suffered the consequences for it but it was largely because of you that he managed to do it. He and Ron became close in 7th year and just…fell for one another."

Severus snorted and said, "And here I was expecting he'd have trotted off into the sunset with Granger."

A shadow fell over Potter's face and Severus knew he'd said the wrong thing. "Aside from the face that Ron's gay," Potter said, his voice strained, "'Mione died in the final battle."

Severus had had no love for the girl, it was true, but to hear that she was dead came as a shock. He had expected all three of the Golden Trio to have made it through unscathed, riding on the wings of their Gryffindor luck.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

"It was a long time ago," Potter said with a shrug. "We lost a lot of good people."

Severus suddenly wanted anything but this conversation. He didn't want to know who hadn't made it, he didn't want to know who he had had to grieve for, who he'd had to bury.

Potter too seemed to want to get off that particular topic, painful as it was, and said, "I'm going to give you some time alone. You don't need me hovering over your shoulder the whole time. I'm going back upstairs, why don't you take a better look around, try and get settled? Come find me when you're ready."

Severus nodded and Potter made his way back up the stairs, Severus rather glad to see the back of him. He spent the next hour familiarising himself with his lab. It seemed he had a steady stream of customers who ordered both the necessary basics and more interesting, tailor-made concoctions.

His contributions to several high-class journals were varied and extensive, and he had won a few awards for his stints as guest editor. His career, it seemed, was rich and satisfying, and he couldn't help but be relieved that he was no longer teaching mindless cretins.

Luckily, his memory of his craft was unaffected and, once he had had time to properly settle in, he was certain he could return to his job with ease. He would need something, after all, to prevent him from going mad.

His curiosity sated with regards to his job, he went back upstairs. There was no sign of Potter, for which he was grateful, so he took his time to wander around the house. It was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, and Severus noted that it had been built to accommodate both magical and muggle components, spotting several electrical items as he inspected the place.

It seemed the house was on a large plot of land with no neighbours nearby. There was a pretty, well-tended garden that wrapped around the house, then beyond that a meadow leading to woodland. It was peaceful, and Severus could see how he would have wanted to retreat there after the war.

His exploration over apart from a couple of messy rooms that looked very uninteresting, he decided he had better find Potter. With the rest of the house searched, he concluded that the man had to be in the attic rooms he'd spoken of before.

He made his way up to the top of the house where the attic space was split into two rooms. The door to one was closed, so he quietly poked his head around the other one and saw Potter sitting at a desk strewn with files and paperwork.

He was sitting in profile, looking out at a magically altered window that filtered in sunlight and afforded a good view of the woodland in the distance. The man's chin rested on his fist, his expression distant. It was not the face that Severus remembered. The softness of boyhood was gone, replaced with sharp angles and clear definition.

He was handsome, Severus could objectively see that, but he still didn't understand how that mere fact could parlay into a marriage. It was all too much to consider.

He cleared his throat and Potter startled, turning to face him with wide eyes. "Oh, hi Is everything ok?"

Severus nodded. "I'm finished with my…tour of the house."

"Oh ok. Would…would you like some dinner? I can – "

"No, thank you. It's been a long day, I think I would prefer to just go to bed."

Potter's disappointment was obvious but he nodded and said, "Of course, if that's what you want. You should be able to find everything alright. I guess I'll see you in the morning then."

"Indeed. Goodnight."

He turned on his heel and made his way back down the stairs, ignoring the irritating look of hurt that had crossed Potter's face.

AN: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please leave me a review and let me know.