Memoriter
The popped into existence on the outskirts of the Hogwarts grounds, just outside the wards. For the first time in a long time this didn't feel like home to Snape. Quickly orienting himself, Severus began walking toward the dark, looming shape of Hogwarts Castle.
Harry tried his best to keep pace with the Potions Master's long legs, "Snape, why are we here?"
From somewhere behind them, Ron's face fell as he suddenly realised that his best friend had no idea about the hours he and Snape had spent watching from the grounds. His pace slowed even more as they approached the hillock and he saw Snape stop.
Severus looked back at Ron with an angered gaze before turning his eyes and wand to the Head Girl's window on the third floor, "Memoriter."
Harry's face scrunched more as if trying to remember the spell for himself. Snape's cold voice, however, cut into his thoughts, "The memory replication spell, Potter. Did you never pay attention in Professor Flitwick's classes?"
Harry's face lifted as he remembered. He'd accidentally used it one night when he'd had nightmares about living in the Dursleys and replayed part of his third birthday for the rest of his dorm. Needless to say, the guys had never mentioned it again.
As he looked up to what was once Hermione's window, Harry could see a light glowing there. Snape could see the horrified look spreading across his face as he watched Severus' own memories: seeing Harry moving on top of Hermione as he had almost every night of their seventh year.
It was impossible for the Seeker to take his eyes away from them, "You could see us from here?" Getting no response, he glanced momentarily at Snape, "Every night?"
Severus nodded, "Every night we'd come out here and watch from this god-forsaken hillock." He scowled as Ron finally joined them, refusing to look up, "Look." He commanded both.
Six eyes turned to the window as another turned down at them. Hermione gazed out the window, down at them. Harry saw himself take her as she continued to look down at them. This time the scream made no noise as the memory opened its mouth. The memory of Hermione suddenly began convulsing under his other-self's body.
As the memory faded, Harry continued to stare at the window. He could feel himself moving, ever so slowly, to that place where emotion no longer mattered, "It was you."
"Or Weasley." Snape shrugged slightly from behind the shorter man.
Harry, finally turning again from the window, looked up at Snape. There was no hatred in his voice, only certainty, "It was you."
Appearing back in London not long after, Harry turned to Snape, "Thank you." He seemed cold, as if the cold had seeped into his very soul. He walked in a direction that would take him they knew not where and disappeared into the dark of the summer night.
Ron turned to Snape, trying to seem more confident than he felt, "Well, that went well. Didn't it?" He looked up hopefully.
Severus, however, was more than disgusted with the redhead, "Because you're a coward, Weasley."
Ron nodded and they began to walk, "Well, you would be too, you know. If it was your best friend you'd been watching all that year…" He trailed off, nothing more to say to excuse himself.
"It was, Weasley." Snape looked straight ahead, his face drawn, "It just wasn't him I had that connection with."
Ron looked up at Severus. He was confused and it was quite plain. Everything Ron ever felt seemed to be written across his face.
On the other side of London, Hermione was no longer sitting at her kitchen table. Sometime that night she had risen and found her wand. Now, wand in hand, clothed in her oldest, softest white nightgown, multi-coloured charms flashed in front of her. On the other side of London, Hermione destroyed her potions lab.
After leaving Weasley. Severus wandered a while on his own and eventually found himself outside her flat. He could smell the acrid smoke and saw the light flashing from her basement. It didn't take much to figure out what was going on.
Later that night, as the sun slowly came up through the London haze, Snape paced alone in his little apartment. He'd done his duty as he'd sworn to himself he would. He'd shown Potter: come clean and told the truth.
As he approached one of his shelves, Severus' hand found a small, empty cauldron. Gripping it, the Potions Master turned and hurled it into another cabinet stocked full of bottles.
As he watched months worth of work stain his carpet, Severus turned and headed through the false wall in his closet. To hell with it. He gathered things quickly, stuffing a small leather bag with what he knew she'd be needing. Soon enough, she was going to need him; neither Potter nor Weasley had any idea what was really coming and it wasn't going to be a pretty sight.
