Disclaimer: Harry Potter is from the creative genius that is J.K. Rowling. We are not her. This is merely a fan fiction to tide us over.

A/N: This story can now be found on silverwhisps too.

Alaire spent the next week on edge. Neville tried to comfort her but it didn't seem to help. Harry assured her several times that he held no grudge and that he totally understood her actions but she would still gave him a blank stare and shake her head. Neither boy knew quite what to do. But, a week after her attack on Harry, Alaire had made a decision.

She walked down the hallway to the Potions room ignoring the students who were hurrying away from the frigid dungeons heading for a warm dinner. Looking into the potions lab, Alaire saw a few students still gathering up supplies. Professor Snape sat at his desk scowling at them. She waited until the classroom was empty then approached Professor Snape.

"Sir? I need to talk to you."

Snape gave her an exasperated look. "I'm busy, Ms. Goodnight. Besides, its Friday night. Shouldn't you be with your friends?"

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape, but this won't wait. It's really important."

With an exaggerated sigh, Snape gathered up several parchments from his desk and motioned for Alaire to follow him into his office. "OK. What is so important, Alaire?"

"I want you to 'Obliviate' me," she said closing her eyes. Of all the people in this school, she thought he would understand why she wanted this done.

"What?" Snape said darkly, a sneer threatening to form on his lips.

"I said I want you to 'Obliviate' me. I know you can do it."

"It's not a question of skill, child. It's a question of why."

"Because I can't take the risk of hurting anyone else because of my repressed memories."

Snape sat down in his chair and studied the girl across from him. There were dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was limp and ragged. The usual smirk was gone from her face. "Alaire, I cannot do what you ask."

"Yes, you can!" she pleaded.

"No. I cannot. I will not."

"Why?" she nearly sobbed.

"What you are asking is a delicate procedure done only by skilled wizards with years of training. And, I will not take the risk of permanent damage to your mind simply because you want to forget an unfortunate encounter with a boy several years ago!"

"UNFORTUNATE ENCOUNTER? It was not an 'unfortunate encounter'! It was practically rape! And you're telling me that you won't help me!" she shouted nearly in Snape's face.

"Alaire, this is not a problem that you are supposed to just forget. You are supposed to deal with it and not allow it to happen again. You have training now. You will recognize anyone who tries to force themselves . . ."

"THAT'S NOT THE PROBLEM! IT'S WHAT I MIGHT DO TO SOMEONE ELSE THAT'S THE PROBLEM!"

"Alaire –"

"What if I have a relapse? What if something else happened to me and I don't remember? I could hurt someone else. Please? Please help me!"

"Alaire, I'm not a specialist in bad memories but I think that this was a one-time thing. You're on the road to healing now."

"Not a specialist on bad memories? My arse!" Alaire's snorted. "Then what is that huge bowl of history that you call a Pensieve? All the good times that you've had that you just can't stand to think about any more?"

"Miss Goodnight, that is enough!" he snarled. "My memories are my own business."

"No, they're not! You're telling me that I have to live with my bad memories when you conveniently store yours up on a shelf!"

She leaned over the desk and stared at him defiantly. "I believe that in wizarding terms that's the cauldron calling the kettle black."

"How I handle my memories affects no one else. It is my business. This conversation is over." He stood and motioned for her to exit.

"I don't think so. Your memories affect me everyday, Professor Snape. They've made you the person that you are and, right now, you're a great big pain in the –"

"Miss Goodnight! I suggest you watch your language or I will cast a silencing spell on you for the rest of your time here."

"Fine. You won't let me use a Pensieve. You won't obliviate me. Fine. I'll do it myself!" she screamed, pulling her wand from her back pocket and pointed it at her temple. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on that fateful evening and begin to mutter 'Obliviate, obliviate, obliviate."

She had reached the third term when she was hit with a force that blew her back into the wall. When she opened her eyes, she saw Snape's concerned face staring down at her.

"Are you OK?"

"No I'm not OK! What the hell did you hit me with?"

"Language, Miss Goodnight. I used Expelliarmus."

"Just grabbing my wand didn't occur to you?"

"Were you really trying to Obliviate yourself, Alaire?" Snape asked as he helped her to her feet.

"Yes."

Snape sighed. "That's not necessary. I think we need to have a long talk and if after that you still want to erase your memory, I'll talk to Dumbledore."

He helped her back to her chair and produced at teapot out of thin air. The scent of peaches wafted over to her.

"You've been talking to Dumbledore. He made me that tea once."

"Yes. And it's also a logical choice taking into account your upbringing."

"You could be wrong. I could have a thing for blueberries."

"You don't. Drink up."

"Why do you guys always think that a cup of tea will make everything better? Every time I've been upset over here, someone has shoved a cup of tea in my hand. It's like its some magical elixir." She took a drink then sat back choking. "That's not just tea!"

"No. I put in some restorative potion to help calm you."

"Restorative potion, my ass! That tastes like brandy!"

"One would wonder how a student such as yourself would know what brandy taste like. Let me assure you, it's a restorative potion. Now, I believe that we were going to have a much delayed and much needed 'long talk'." He sat back in his chair and arranged his robes. "You think that I'm an arrogant prat with a tragic past that keeps him from bonding with his students. Is that right?"

Alaire stared at him in wonder.

"Well, you would be partially right. But I have my reasons and I know you will give me no rest until I explain myself to you. I went to Hogwarts many, many years ago. I was sorted into Slytherin. I wasn't happy here."

He took a deep breath and confronted his own memories. "I made a lot of enemies and in my arrogance never gave a second thought as to why they hated me."

Alaire watched Snape's face as she felt anxiety, sadness, and even a remnant of hate exude from her potion master.

"I was in a very vulnerable state of mind, Alaire. And, I gave serious thought to Dark Magic to use against those I though were my enemies." He smirked at Alaire's startled face. "I wasn't a very nice person back then, either, Miss Goodnight. Let's just say that I committed some atrocities which I later tried to make amends for. I am still trying to make amends for them. Now do you understand why I have a pensieve?"

"Guilt."

"Guilt."

"Worse than beating someone up?"

"Much worse."

"Oh. Did you ever k . . ."

"No. I did not. And I could have the memories obliviated but I won't."

"So you live as a flagellant. Beating yourself daily like the monks used to do."

"I am not trying to save my soul, Alaire."

"I believe you are Professor."

"Well you are entitled to believe what you wish, no matter how foolish," he snapped. "But I assure you what you are going through pales in every comparison to what I have done and gone through. I also believe that your attack on Potter was as much his fault as yours."

"How can you blame the victim!"

Snape snorted, "Please. Potter is as helpless as a dementor. I saw your memories that night in the infirmary Alaire. I am quite aware of what you were sensing from him. It was not friendship. He was going to make an unwelcomed advance while he believed you unable to stop him. Granted it wasn't to the extreme that American boy took in your youth, but it was still unwelcomed. You had every right to do what you did. I part of me just wishes I was there to see him get what he deserved."

"That's an awful thing to say! I could have seriously hurt Harry!"

"Yes, you could have. But you did not. I believe that this particular defense mechanism you have is very . . . beneficial."

"Beneficial? I could have killed him. He's my friend!"

"Who was doing something you weren't comfortable with. I'm sure if it was anyone else the outcome would have been different."

"Like what?"

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "As much as I hate this scenario, I do believe that if it was Mr. Longbottom instead of Potter this wouldn't have happened. Think back and tell me truthfully if you would have been frightened if it was Longbottom instead of Potter who had you trapped like that."

Alaire blushed. "I don't think my love life is any of your concern professor."

"No it's not and thank Merlin for that. But you didn't answer my question."

"No," she said softly. "I don't think I would have minded or snapped."

Snape nodded his head. "Then how about this, instead of Potter it was someone you didn't know. Say someone wearing dark robes and a mask."

"A Deatheater."

"Precisely."

Alaire looked down at her tea cup and thought. Just the thought of that scenario filled her with more panic than she remembered having before she attacked Harry. She knew she would have gone ballistic, and doubted she would have stopped any reaction she had.

"I think you can see now why I say this particular defense mechanism is beneficial," Snape said.

"Yes sir," she whispered.

"Good, now if you don't mind I have work to do."

Alaire looked up and smiled slightly at the potion master. "Thank you sir."

"Your welcome," he said. "Now please leave my office. I do not enjoy having students linger in here too long. You never know what they might be plotting, especially Gryffindors."

Alaire held back a snort. "Well we can't all be Slytherins you know."

"Thank Merlin for that."

Alaire left the room and made her way back to Gryffindor Tower. As she reached the fifth-floor she heard someone shout her name. Turning around, she was wrapped up in a pair of arms. At first Alaire was afraid she was going to do something, but then she realized she wasn't panicked. In fact, she seemed to be relieved as did the man that was holding her. She knew who it was right away. His robes smelled of sun, greenery and with that bit of himself mixed in.

"I was worried about you. You just disappeared for two hours," Neville said hugging her. "Are you all right?"

"I feel better than I have in weeks," Alaire said happily snuggling into him.

"Are you sure? I mean are you all right, I mean with everything?" Neville asked. His eyes held concern as he looked down on her.

Alaire smiled up at her boyfriend. "Yes, I believe I am."

"Good."

"There is one thing though I think would make me feel even better," Alaire said smiling.

"What?"

"A kiss."

A huge grin crossed Neville's face. "I think that can be arranged."