AN: About halfway through people, just a bit further then we're done. Happy reading. Standard Disclaimer applies.
Chapter 8
Hermione had disappeared from Snape's vision quickly; she'd returned to the boys with a determined for answers look on her face. "Harry, Ron. Are you still awake?" The door opened instantly, and Ron was stood there.
"Honestly Hermione don't you ever sleep?"
"Not when I have questions. No." Harry paled sensing where this was going. He sat up in bed and placed his glasses back on his face.
"This is about Alan, isn't it?"
"Of course. He's so bloody parental its weird, but that's not the point. I think he might be the professor; they are so alike its uncanny."
"Well they are related."
"You know what I mean Ron." Harry sighed, as if he'd had this conversation before. "You know something don't you, Harry?"
"Might do, but I can't say…"
"Why not?" Hermione's voice was heated. Harry just stared at her.
"Professor Dumbledore told me not to, do you really think I'd not tell if I could?"
"So, Alan is the Professor?"
"Go ask Dumbledore, better yet ask Snape."
"Fine, I will."
"Really?" Harry looked stunned at Hermione; it was the most Gryffindor thing he'd heard her say for a while.
"Later, yes. I need more information." Harry slumped a bit, he should have known that Hermione would take the Ravenclaw approach to being a Gryffindor.
"So, you're going to study him?" Hermione nodded. "If that is the real Snape, he's not going to take that well, you know."
"Harry, given what I just saw, this is the real Snape; and the Snape who taught us is the lie. Look at how different he's being from himself. I mean he glared at Malfoy, didn't he? And he's in Gryffindor, the hat would not let that happen even if the headmaster begged it, just because. Would it?" Harry shook his head. "See? Maybe I can work Professor Snape though Alan. And maybe he's not as bad as people think he is." There was suddenly an ear-splitting scream.
The golden trio ran down the steps to the common room, to find McGonagall climbing through the portrait hole.
"Well, at least it's not you Potter."
"Please tell me I don't sound like that?" The door that lead to Snape's private room swung open, with Snape standing shaking and covered in sweat; paler than anyone even Minerva had seen him as an adult. Somehow, he seemed okay enough to talk.
"No, Potter. Your nightmares and my night-terrors are not the same. You have people who wake you up, I don't. I think I'll take the couch tonight." Snape relocked his rooms and laid down on the two-seater settee by the fire, which was mostly embers. He didn't seem bothered by his own shivering, and no one could tell if it was because he was cold or afraid. He rolled over to look at the students around him. "Sorry if I woke you." McGonagall was about to say something, but Harry interrupted before she got a chance.
"You can't help your dreams Snape, good or bad. If you hold it all in, you'll blow up eventually."
"I don't need a mind healer Potter." Snape had hissed at Harry, very much like the adult version of himself. Harry wasn't the only one who noticed.
"Alan? Maybe it will help, Madame Pomfrey is certified…"
"I don't want to give the matron a complex."
"Alan, Severus and I used to talk, and I am fine."
"No, Professor. I thank you, but I'll be fine now."
"If you are sure?" Snape nodded, and rolled into a small ball on the settee, so tightly in fact he only took up the space of one seated person. It was clear that Snape wasn't fine but wasn't going to talk about it; at all.