Hey everyone. To make up for the last cliffy, here is a soopah-long chapter.

Snape made sure his wand was in plain view.

"Potter," he said in a low voice. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Fire reared again in the boy's eyes, and the thin blue shield around him thickened.

Harry couldn't understand the words, he was long past that point. But he understood the tone, all right. This man was threatening him.

Snape watched Harry carefully. It was probably going to be his job to bring the boy back to Earth, knowing Dumbledore. And by the looks of things, Potter wanted to scrap.

If Potter wanted to scrap, a scrap he would get.

This fight would be risky, because he didn't know the rules or the boundaries. He would just have to try and stun the boy before he hurt himself or anyone else.

Snape made sure his wand was both visible and ready to use. Potter looked unarmed, but Snape was eyeing the shield surrounding him and decided that the boy probably didn't need a weapon.

Harry shut his eyes for a moment, and time visibly stopped.

Snape suddenly felt like he was in two places at once. Then the world crumpled.

Imagine this...
The world suddenly stops... and reverses.

It's like the negative of a photograph. Darks are now lights. Shadows reform themselves. All colours take on their direct spectral opposite.

Good becomes evil.

The world is eerie and horrible. Trees, once dark green and black, are now a light candy-floss pink with white. The sky is now white with impossibly light tints of blue. The grass is a sort of maroony-pink, and Potter...

Potter's skin is a murky blue, and his eyes are a dark pink, with the iris and whites seemingly reversed. His hair is pure white, as are his robes.

The orb of power around him is no longer blue but a sickly yellow.

Snape looks at his hands. The skin is a darker blue than Potter's, more navy. He can see his hair is white, as well as Potter's.

Around him, all that had been dark - just about everything - is now light. A black moon is cheekily peeping down from the sky. Snape feels... wrong. This is not Where He Is Meant To Be. Something is extraordinarily Wrong -

His mind can't cope with this, and his hands slowly go to his head as he sinks onto his knees. His mind is being split open and icicles are being pounded into his head... nothing is right here... the air is thinning, and he cannot breathe... when the world is reversed so are the elements, and his lungs are not designed to be breathing in this atmosphere. He may have changed on the outside but he is still the same on the inside...

He knows where his way out is, and he has to take it before he dies in this fearsome world, this horrible word where the reverse becomes true and he knows not what anything is anymore -

With the last remaining ounce of his strength, he leaps and bowls into Potter. The world... shatters.

Nothing reverses itself, just pieces of the world he can see, the horrible reversed word, shatter and dissolve into the colours he knows.

Snape let go of Potter immediately and retreated to a safe distance. His hand was red raw from where he had grabbed the boy, as if he had been... burned.

The boy was angry now; the rage in his eyes was all too clear to see, as was the faint white halo of fire clinging to him.

Fire... burns... of course.

Harry knew he had been cheated. He had wanted to show this antagoniser what it was like in his head nowadays, and Snape had been suffering. His eyes had said it all. His eyes had been in pain.
Something in Harry had rebelled at this. What are you doing? It had screamed in a muffled tone. He has not done anything to you! No-one deserves this, no-one can survive this!

There was nothing he could do about that now he was there in the parallel world, but the man had taken care of that himself. Cheated of exacting revenge, he would simply have to do it the old-fashioned way...

Potter raised a hand, palm up. Snape frowned at the gesture, until a ball of fire appeared there.

Instincts long ago honed to almost-perfection flung him to the side as the yellow ball, hurled with all the deadly accuracy of a snake bite, hit the floor where he had been stood. There was a minor explosion, the snow melted and the earth scorched.

What...? Where had THAT come from? That was not wandless magic, that was magic without a proverbial fusebox. That was raw energy, and it was dangerous... on both sides.

Hmmm. Potter
(is Potter still in there)
had no qualms about possibly killing him. Well, there's a change.

Bloody hell, what a Christmas Day...

He knew that already, but actually seeing a direct attack...

Let's fight fire with... hmm... a stunner might work.

"Stupefy!"

The red beam of light arced toward Potter, hit the blue shield and bounced.

Snape ducked. He straightened up, thinking that this could be a lot better.

Due to the fact that the sun had just set and it was getting dark before he had properly accumulated his night vision, he didn't see the purple string of light until it hit him.

It whiplashed from his shoulder with a resounding crackkkkk that echoed through the trees. This knocked Snape backwards, making him stumble.

Snape touched his shoulder gently to find it was bleeding rather badly.

Worry about shoulder later. Worry about life now.

The situation was looking increasingly bad.

It began to look worse when the second attack in the form of a yellow ball of flame hit him in quick succession in the midriff.

This attack knocked him to the ground, temporarily paralysing him and winding him, and Snape saw stars for a second. Then he stopped looking blankly at the sky and started focusing upon the more immediate problem of Potter.

The wound in his stomach did not hurt. It merely felt extremely tingly.

Instinct usually played a major part in many of Snape's conscious thoughts and decisions, and the thought that occurred to him now was that Potter was deadly serious about this. There would be no reprieve. There would be no mercy.

There was a problem. He was gasping for breath and his muscles wouldn't respond properly. He had about as much fight left in him as a wet lettuce leaf.

Potter stood over him, face expressionless, but Snape saw the pure hatred boiling in his gaze. He also saw the fireball in his hand.

Instinct not only talked to him, but occasionally took over when his stupid brain would not respond, no matter how many calls instinct sent.

Snape's arm shot out and grabbed Potter by the wrist. Pain flared up his palm. Snape did not notice this, the adrenaline pumping fresh through his body, numbing all sense of pain. He pulled himself up, knocked Potter over, rolled in the snow, fought for supremacy and stood up again with Potter in a viciously tight bear hug, the boy's twisting spine jarring his stomach.

Even through Potter's clothing and his own, Snape's skin immediately began to howl in pain. The flames that Potter were incased in increased slightly in intensity, and Snape hissed through his teeth.

"Potter," he snarled. "Listen to me. Calm down! I will not hurt you!"

Harry didn't understand the words, but once again, he listened to the tone. This man was trying to hurt him, the way he tried to stop Harry escaping, the way he snarled into his ear. He could tell that that man was in pain, so why was he trying?

Pain was no fun, no fun at all. And yet the man hung on grimly, as if it were important.
WHY WAS HE TRYING?

Snape's vision was beginning to cloud over with a pleasant, light grey fog, which was starting to darken. He felt fatigue slowly worm its way into his muscles. He weighed up pros and cons of pride vs. life, and decided it was probably better to condemn his ego to the furnace than his body.

"Harry," he murmured, trying to sound peaceful and calm. "I am not trying to hurt you. You are not yourself. Let us help you."

Harry's struggles slowed a little, but he was not convinced.

"I am not trying to hurt you, but you must learn control else you may hurt yourself. I am not trying to hurt you."

Snape was repeating this like a mantra. Its effect seemed to be working, as Harry was slowly becoming less resistant.

Snape released his grip a little for several reasons. Firstly, Harry had stopped struggling as much. Secondly, the fire coating Harry was still there and still hurting him. Thirdly, the fireball that had hit his stomach had done a lot more damage than he had thought and Harry's spine pressing into it wasn't helping. Fourthly, and perhaps most importantly, he simply hadn't the strength to keep his renewed grip.

Harry was still struggling, but weakly. Snape was exhausted; he just didn't have the energy to hold Harry any more, so he stepped back.

The freezing night air came as a welcome relief to his skin, but it was still extraordinarily painful. He was now viewing the world through a thin gauze of mesh.

Harry stood on his own, and Snape waited. This was entirely Harry's move now.

Snape decided to drop all sarcasm, all condescending words. These would not help the situation. So he waited.

Harry looked at the sky, looked at the snow on the ground, and back at the sky again.

A shiver seemed to pass over his body.

"It's not worth anything anymore."

Snape was sure that it had been his imagination, but no. Potter's all-but-whisper had been almost inaudible.

Snape mentally breathed a sigh of relief. They were not out of the woods yet but he could see the city.

"No. But what is?"

Slowly, Potter turned to face him, and Snape understood how lonely he was.

Suddenly, he felt his shields being peeled away again. He struggled, futilely for a moment, and then relaxed as a foreign consciousness slipped into his mind and began to show him something -

Snape snapped back to reality as a voice yelled "Stupefy!" and Potter abruptly crumpled into the snow.

He looked up to see Cornelius Fudge, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and a few random Aurors.

Quite sensibly, his last thought was fuck.

"God, you bastards," he yelled exasperatedly, and then blacked out.

llllllllll

Harry's sleep was interrupted by moments of wakefulness which were neither welcome, nor expected. They were seconds long, insightful, and then smoothly became part of the nightmare.

His first moment of consciousness was as fuzzy as the others were going to be, but still distinguishable. He was being carried at a brisk walk along a corridor. The shadows danced in the lights of the torches, and he uttered a very faint moan. He tried to move, but found that his muscles would not respond.

His second was lying on a bed. He saw Snape, propped up against the wall opposite him, sitting on the bed as if on a chair. His head lolled forward. He was unconscious. Madam Pomfrey was slitting his robe open with a knife and surgical precision. Peeling it away from his torso, his skin was exposed to reveal the vicious red burns lathering his shoulders, his inner arms and his chest. What also was clear was the crater of blood that marked his stomach, and the whiplash of crimson right across his shoulder. Madam Pomfrey looked most displeased.

He recognised fingers on his neck and realised that someone else was taking his pulse. In his mind, clawing desperately, he fell down the slippery slope and back into unconsciousness...

The third time, several people were talking quietly. Someone was being quite emphatic. This person mentioned 'psychiatric ward' several times, but Harry's tired brain made no connections. He looked over to where he had last seen Snape and saw him lying down, upper half swathed in bandages, eyes closed. So peaceful.

A woman wearing the white robes with the crossed bone-and-wand emblem of St. Mungos was leaning over Snape, checking something. Harry's brow creased ever so slightly in confusion... he knew he was in Hogwarts, he knew in his bones... what was she doing here?

The mediwitch saw him, her eyes widened and her mouth opened. Harry found himself thinking somewhat detachedly she looks like a bowling ball.

But he was sliding back into unconsciousness again, even as the woman ran (strangely slowly, as if through tar) to him... and he felt fingers touch his forehead... but he was already gone...

And in all the interludes, he had no idea how long, he had nightmares... terrible, bloody ones, where he had all the control he wanted over his body, but all he wanted to do was hurt people and he was crying, crying because he didn't want to but he found himself enjoying revenge
(revenge for what?!)
and all the time he was hurting Snape, he was hurting his mother and father, he was hurting Sirius and Cedric and Ron and Hermione and...

But always he saw himself attacking Snape, and he felt the sick enjoyment that came with it, and all he wanted to do was die. This was wrong. He was wrong. He wanted to stop hurting Snape, called out his name, shouted that he was sorry but it made no difference. That haunted, hunted, painful look was always in Snape's eyes as he fought for breath, and his shoulder snapped backwards with a crackkkk loud enough to echo around the forest, and his stomach exploded in a splash of blood. He saw himself standing over Snape but he saw none of the old determination in the man's eyes, he just saw quiet resignation as Snape put his head on the snow and closed his eyes and Harry raised his hand to deliver the death blow and the nightmare changed but never the sickening sense of victory, never the nauseating sense of revenge.

He wanted to stop hurting Snape, he wanted to stop hurting others and he tried to turn his murderous hands on himself but he couldn't do it, some unseen force kept him from suicide.

He wanted this all to stop. He wanted the blissful void of emptiness, he didn't care whether or not it was heaven or hell, but he wanted it to stop.

He didn't know how long he was out, but his next moment of wakefulness was not at all fuzzy, but extremely lucid. He saw Snape sitting up, his back to Harry, flexing his arm slightly. Blood had soaked through the bandages, and a mediwitch had begun to replace them. Harry shut his eyes. This time he did not want to see more.

And he went back to the nightmare again. It was preferable. In his head, he couldn't hurt any more people.

In his head he was not fighting any more. In his head he had given up fighting, and he simply listened as voices and faces taunted him. He heard their accustaions and he listened to them well. And he cried, over and over. The tears didn't seem to stop, but eventually they did. And he simply slipped into a darker kind of sleep where he was sure he would never wake. And that was how he liked it.

llllllllll

Very, very faintly, he heard voices murmuring, voices talking, but he did not pay them much heed.

"Why hasn't he woken up yet, Professor Dumbledore?" Fretful.

"I have no idea, Mrs. Weasley. You would be better off asking Severus that."

"Why Professor Snape?"

"He knows Harry better than any of us do now. If the Minister had not interrupted the Occlumency, then he would know a great deal more. Like why his nightmares are no longer violent. Ah, Severus. Feeling any better?"

"No. The burns are hell. They can't be healed by magic, so I'm wearing a cellophane shirt, as you can see, to keep the muggle cream I'm smothered in from evaporating. It's most unpleasant."

"Is your strength any better? I know Poppy prescribed occasional walks..."

"No. I'm still using a crutch. That blast almost completely disintegrated my abdominal muscles."

"I dread to ask... your shoulder?"

"Completely healed. I'll be scarred for life."

"Hmmm... do you actually know how long Cornelius and the others were watching before they took action?"

"Thirty seconds?"

"Ten minutes."

"The bastards."

"You said."

"Professor! Language!"

"He can't hear us. He's comatose."

"COMATOSE?!"

"Then again, maybe he can. It's an occasional trait. Some can, some can't."

"You're being unusually bitter, Severus."

"It's a habit."

A voice, a lot closer this time.

"Harry, dear? Can you hear me?"

A pause.

"No response. I'm not surprised. His mind is in complete tatters."

"How do you know?"

"He'd snapped completely, I could see it in his head. It was a matter of time, really. When Albus asked me to talk to him I managed to put it a bay a little. I had no idea it was going to be this soon."

"What do you mean... 'snapped'?"

"He went completely insane. Googly. Nutters. Batty. Loopy. Afway afway. Any other slang I haven't mentioned?"

"Professor Snape. You are being very uncaring." Dangerous.

"Sue me."

A resounding SLAP echoed through the halls, and footsteps stalked angrily away. There was a pregnant pause.

"That was not very tactful, Severus."

"Do I look like I want to be tactful? I'm marinating in what appears to be strawberry icecream, I've no use of my hands. I get muscle cramps more normally accocated with females, and they're constant as my stomach is being rebuilt by a spell, which only happens to work quickly when I walk, which may I add, is complete agony. Now I can add my face to the list of my body parts competing for the title 'Most Painful Appendage'. And you mention TACT?"

There was a pause.

"You still have your legs."

"I twisted my ankle when I blacked out."

"Not the most succesful of holidays, Severus."

"You don't say, Albus."

Next Chapter:

I'm not telling you what happens in this chapter as it would give it away entirely. Let's just say it involves Voldemort, an inflatable chair, and a poolful of strawberry jam.

That should keep you curious. ; )

fhippogriff: Nnyaaaw. I'm a page-turner! Yippee!

ckat44: 'odo'?

Misteress Genari: Fair enough. Hang on a minute, where did the flame say I was repetitive?

Dragonero: It will eventually.

Dead Feather: The ideas are tied, but life isn't planned out. It just... happens.So everything's set out but it IS somewhat incidental.

Midgette: Awwww.

Strega: Methinks you'll like the next chapter...

LumosMe: Quite.

Forty-two dreams: Err... see what?
I had honestly never thought of Harry as a leader... that would turn him into the equivalent of Voldemort and everybody want the Golden Boy to the the antithesis of evil. And dear Harry's insanity is most definately not divine, I can tell you (evil snickers).
The Vive room, dear Lord... I had totally forgotten about that place. I think I got bored with the idea. A lot of my ideas get dropped, especialy if they don't work out.

starinthedark11: Snape and personal grooming have never gone very well together, have they.

TeahLeafs: It's ironic that you should have mentioned 'different dimensions' in your last review, isn't it...

KrazeyForever: I hope this fullfills expectations.

leggylover03: I still look at this name and think it's cool. : )

ShadowedHand: Gooood...

HPbabe143: I hope I got the 143 bit right. Yes, I did.
I'm somewhat impressed you've managed to read through every chapter and review almsot all of them. Coolness.

shelly101: I'm a firestarter... fun fun.

Kawaii - Syoran: Everyone should read fanfiction. : )
I'm glad my story was interesting enough to get you to read it... I find that once you've read a few angst stories you've readmost of them.

Harm Marie: Really? What has Marie ever done to you? : )
I'm imptressed you started with chapter one and read it all the way through. Please keep reviewing, I love a fresh eye on things.