A/N blahblah: Severus's memories.
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"Severus?"
There was no response.
Harry gently ran his hand over the shaking back. "Sevvy, come on, look at me. I've come to take you home."
"G'way," the muffled voice of the Potions Master muttered, "Harry won't come. Harry hates me. Daddy hates me."
Aghast, Harry's eyes opened wide.
"Severus, no, we don't hate you, we don't! We didn't send you here, Fudge did! I've come as soon as I could, honestly!"
But there was no more reaction.
Sighing, knowing there was little time, Harry turned the Potions Master over.
"Come," he said, "we're leaving."
To his surprise, the man shakily obeyed, and stood up. His head bowed, shoulders slumped, he reminded Harry of how Sevvy had acted the first weeks of the summer.
"Walk to the gap in the wall, I will levitate you down. Neville is waiting for us in the boat."
He could almost feel the spike of fear when he took out his wand, but Severus simply stood still and waited.
Almost wishing he would hear the man sneering again, Harry levitated him and carefully let him down to the boat where Neville caught him.
"I have him," Harry heard, "I'll levitate you now."
But as soon as Neville pointed his wand at Harry, Severus suddenly sprang to life and threw himself into Neville, nearly knocking him over the side of the boat.
"Severus! Stop that!" Harry yelled.
The man immediately froze, and curled into a corner of the rubber boat, whimpering.
Neville struggled up.
"My wand went overboard," he growled at Harry, "can you manage to levitate yourself?"
Harry considered. "I'm feeling strong enough," he answered, "but you will have to use my wand to get us back to shore. I don't think I have that much magical energy left."
With that, he pointed his wand at himself and floated gently down to the boat, where he landed without too many problems, only stopping to retrieve the stones. The wall once again became solid.
He handed his wand to Neville, and then crawled over to the whimpering wizard.
"Shhh, Severus, it's ok. We're nearly safe. Stay with us, little brother, come on."
Harry reached for his pack that was in the boat, and pulled out a cloak. He wrapped the cold body in it and held him close for warmth.
Frightened, surprised black eyes searched his face, looking for answers to the many, many questions that floated around in the confused brain.
"You're much too cold," Harry said, smiling, "but we're not in the clear yet. Soon we'll have you home, and in a real bed with warm blankets. Then I'll make you some hot chocolate – you love hot chocolate, don't you? – and you can sleep for as long as you want. When you wake up again, I'll try and help you make sense of all that's happened to you."
It was Harry's voice, Harry's face, but that couldn't be, could it? Harry hated him, Harry hated potions, there was no way he would be here now.
But the soothing tones sounded very familiar, and the arm around him felt like it has once belonged there…NO!
No, this was Potter, the son of his arch enemy, the arrogant, spoiled brat of Gryffindor. The one his father kept working for, the one his father kept demanding sacrifices for.
Arrogant, strutting…brother, protector…he curled into his ball again, unable to cope.
Harry sighed. Albus had been correct, Severus was in bad shape. He had called him Harry, so something of the six year old must have lingered.
"But he thinks I hate him!"
Suddenly, he felt something warm burn against his chest.
"Neville! Hide!" he hissed.
Neville immediately steered the boat out of sight.
"Can you see anything?"
"Two guards, patrolling," Harry answered, "Ron and Mi are hiding. Dunno where Fred and George are. Keep low."
After an agonizing five minutes, Harry felt the coin burn again.
"Everything ok, we can go back now, but keep low just in case," he whispered.
Minutes later, they landed on the shores, and, with some difficulty, managed to get Severus out of the boat.
Fred and George appeared behind the other two, panting slightly. Hermione stared in shock.
"Oh, Harry…" she said, close to tears.
"I know, 'Mione," Harry said, keeping his arm around the thin figure, "Come, Severus, we're going home."
They all touched, with some difficulty, the small Portkey, and felt the familiar tug behind their navel.
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Severus opened his eyes, a bit nauseous after the Portkey travel. They stood in front of a low building.
He knew this place. He had been here before. He had been happy here.
Happy? He had been happy?
Searching the memories, he concluded that yes, he had been very happy at one point in his childhood – the time he spent with Harry and Daddy.
"Home," he said softly, touching the door.
"Yes, home," Harry smiled, "the Bungalow. Do you remember we lived here for a while?"
He nodded, but then retreated into himself again as other memories mixed. Very unpleasant ones. Memories he knew very well.
The teens shared a worried look, but decided not to push him too much.
"Let's go in," Harry said, "You need a warm bed, Sev."
Sev? SEV? SEV?
"Mr. Potter," he croaked, having to get used to his voice again, "Did you just call me…"
"Sevvy!" he heard voices call him. He looked up and smiled.
The flash of Potions Master was gone before it really surfaced. Harry simply took his arm and directed him to his old room.
Hermione set to reading her father's psychology books, and Neville busied himself with making hot chocolate for all of them while the Twins created bunk beds for them to sleep on tonight. Harry would sleep in Severus's room, and Hermione got the other bedroom. That left two bedrooms that didn't have beds for the other four.
Harry helped his little…big…brother into the bed, warmed the sheets with a simple charm, and tucked him in.
Dark eyes followed his every move.
"What…happened?" the silky voice finally asked without croaking too much.
Harry sat on the bed, facing him.
"You…" he hesitated.
"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked carefully.
"I don't KNOW! Being found out as a spy by Voldemort, I think. But then I have memories of…" he pressed his lips together suddenly.
"of being six years old?" Harry asked softly.
The surprised look told him that was indeed what he had been about to say.
"You WERE found out as a spy," Harry said, "Voldemort cursed you. He turned you into a six year old."
"Severus Snape," the Dark Lord said, with a grim smile, "Approach me. On your knees."
Flinching inwardly, he obeyed.
"You," the Dark Lord said, "Are a spy for Albus Dumbledore. No," he held up his hand, "No point in denying it. What I want to know is why? Why you left my ranks, and betrayed your fellows? Why you abandoned all the power I gave you?"
He scowled. The game was up, and he knew it. He expected to be dead soon. No point in holding back.
"Because you are a murdering hypocritical half-blood bastard. What power have you given us, except to grovel at your feet?" he stood up and raised his chin defiantly.
"Look around you. Malfoy, Nott, pureblood names that once stood for proud, independent families, and look at what became of them! Murdering scum, kissing the hem of your robes just to prevent being tortured. I saw my mistake early on. I haven't been yours for nearly twenty years now."
The Death Eaters gasped while the Dark Lord's eyes shone with anger and malice.
"And look what it brought you. I will make you an example. No, I will not kill you…yet. I will give you the opportunity to see how wrong you were in the side you chose."
He stood up proud when the silvery light hurled towards him from the Dark Lords wand. Pain wracked his body and he felt himself shrink. It lasted only seconds before he lost consciousness.
"I remember," he whispered, "it hurt so much."
"I know," Harry said, "it hurt a lot when you grew up again, too."
He looked at the two adults anxiously. "Are you really not going to make me if I don't want to?"
The headmaster picked him up and sat on the couch, holding him in his lap. Harry sat down next to them.
"You get to decide, Sevvy," Harry said.
"You get to decide, Sevvy," Harry said.
"You get to decide, Sevvy," Harry said….
"You promised you wouldn't change me back!" he accused.
Harry sighed. "We didn't change you back. Voldemort is dead, Severus. For good. But when I killed him, the curse he put on you ended. We didn't expect that to happen. I'm sorry."
Harry had never seen so many emotions passing over someone's face in just a few seconds. Hate, love, longing, repulsion, embarassment, grief.
Finally Severus turned around.
"I want to sleep."
"Neville is bringing up some hot chocolate. I want you to drink that; you've been awfully cold in that cell."
No response.
With a deep sigh, Harry left the room.