Snape was released a few days later, and returned to his classroom on Halloween Day, much to the students' disappointment. Snape attended his own classes with Dumbledore co-teaching with him to get him back in the swing of things, as well as to alleviate his stress until he was mentally ready. He was much paler than before, and his hands shook just slightly, though it disappeared almost entirely after a few days. It didn't take long for Dumbledore to feel confident that Snape was ready to go it alone.
During the weeks after being released by Madame Pomfrey, Snape was more reticent than ever, hardly speaking to anyone, though when he did, Dumbledore noticed, he did not snap or act as surly as the staff was used to. Instead, he politely answered questions as he was asked, but offered no insight into anything. He was simply quiet and seemed to be lost in thought at all times. While some members of the staff and nearly the entire student body thought it was an improvement, many who knew him well, at least by Snape standards, were worried. They were not surprised, however, after all he had been through. Of course, only the staff knew what had happened, but that did not stop the students from drawing their own conclusions for the change in personality after so long an absence.
The most popular theory from the students was merely a death in the family. Dumbledore smiled at this, proud to know that his students could be sympathetic to even Snape, possibly the most feared and loathed teacher in the school. Had Snape noticed the pitying looks he was receiving from many of the girls as they passed him in the hallway, he would have scowled at them and snarled something unpleasant, but his former, dislikable self seemed to be forgotten.
But not by everyone. Runner-up theories included a forced leave of absence by Dumbledore and a threat of firing, the realization that even his own mother hated him, and the idea that someone had tried to drop a house on him.
It wasn't until the Holiday Break that Snape asked again about meeting with Medea, the girl who had saved his life. Dumbledore felt he was ready, but couldn't decide whether he himself was excited or anxious about the meeting. He arranged the meeting to take place the very day the students left.
As Dumbledore walked with him to the third floor, he noticed that Snape was more focused than he had been since his return. His gait was long and quick, sweeping through the corridors with the former flourish he had known. His eyes were narrow, calculating, though what he was thinking, Dumbledore decided, he could never guess.
Dumbledore knocked, and upon entering, found Medea sitting near the fire and Remus leaning against the wall near her window. He had been asked to attend, simply because Dumbledore had no idea what to expect. He did not know what their past was, and felt it would be safer for all parties to have interference. Besides, it would be helpful to have another set of ears in the room.
Snape stopped just inside the room, his eyes sweeping over Medea's now standing figure. His eyes betrayed no emotion. He stood tall, imposing. Dumbledore saw a hint of his former self in his attitude.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
"Yes, you are Severus Snape." Her answer was matter-of-fact.
"And how do you know that?"
"Mr. Dumbledore told me."
"Professor Dumbledore," Snape corrected.
"Professor Dumbledore told me." She repeated. Remus snickered from his place on the wall. "He said you are the Potions Master here." Dumbledore was surprised by the confidence she had built since her arrival. Or perhaps, he reminded himself, she already knew how to handle Snape.
"That is correct. Now, who are you?"
"Medea Colberson."
"No, you are not. Tell me who you really are."
"My name is Medea Colberson. You called me that yourself." She stopped. "I- I graduated from Beauxbatons. I have a flat in Paris. And a cat, Deja. White with orange spots." Dumbledore watched as memories began to flood back into her mind. "I work at Essence of the Magi, under Monsieur Phillistine. We- we made Glamour Perfume. It changed women's appearance, made them beautiful."
Dumbledore stole a glance at Snape. His face remained rigid, his eyes cold.
"You could have learned this anywhere."
Medea wasn't listening. Her eyes were wide with her memories.
"I used to go to my roof at night, especially when the moon was full and bright. It was so beautiful; I would dance where no one could see me. And, and I met you up there." Her voice trailed off, her eyes searched his.
"You are not Medea Colberson-"
"I loved you, didn't I?"
"Medea is dead. I saw her myself." Snape was walking slowly toward her, his eyes locked on hers. "You may look like her. And you may know about her life, but as you see, you cannot be her."
"I'm- dead?"
"Don't you listen?" He spat, grabbing her wrist. "She is dead! You are not her!"
"Severus-" Dumbledore started. Remus was already across the room, but was waved off by Dumbledore before he could separate them.
"No, Albus. I do not know what game she is playing here, but I want no part in it. I will not stand aside while this girl plays at a life that is not hers!"
"Severus, let go of her." His voice was much calmer than he felt. Remus was pacing, waiting for the word to move in, his eyes on the hands griping Medea's slender wrists.
Her eyes were wide as she struggled against his grip. Suddenly, her eyes flashed to his face, twisted in anger. She froze, as if in a trance, as more memories flooded to her mind. Snape saw this too, and let go of her wrist. She backed away from him slowly, her eyes never leaving his face.
"We fought, just like this. I had tried to hit you. You had my wrists in your hands. But you weren't yelling. You knew I would be upset. You were calm, like when you're trying to make me understand something. You were trying to make me understand why you were leaving. Why you could never come back. But I didn't want to listen, so you tried to say that you hated me. You couldn't do it. You couldn't say it. You left me. I didn't want you to, but you did."
"How do you know this?" Snape asked softly, taken in by what she was saying.
"You kissed my forehead-"
"We were alone-"
"And left the ring I gave you-"
"In your flat."
"And you disapparated."
Snape rocked slightly, as if he had been hit. Dumbledore wasn't sure if he would fly at her again or turn on his heels and leave, but he only stood, with his eyes closed.
"It was the hardest thing I've ever done," he said softly. "You- she stood by me through everything, and I left her to-" he stopped suddenly. "Medea is dead. You cannot be her." He backed out of the room.