Author's Note: I own nothing. J. K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter. Reviews would be Wonderful!
Charity woke up cheerfully at six o'clock sharp as she did every day and yawned. She looked toward her window and stretched her arms up over her head, finally noticing how sore she was, as if she'd been hit by an enraged hippogriff. She frowned, trying to remember if she had been wrestling with any hippogriffs the night before, but her mind suddenly hit up against what seemed to be a wall in her head, and she felt a sharp pain. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, her hands on either side of her head, and someone was shaking her.
"Miss. Burbage! Charity!" The squeaky voice called, sounding thoroughly alarmed. "Charity Burbage!"
She groaned and sat up, rubbing her head. "Ugg." She said hoarsely. "What in the bloody hell happened?"
"Well, Charity, I was just going to ask you." Came the high pitched voice of Professor Flitwick, who was standing right next to her, finally at eye level. "I heard you scream as if someone had used an Unforgivable Curse on you. And when I came to see if you were all right, you were passed out on the floor with both hands grabbing your hair in a death grip!"
Charity rubbed her head again and then remembered what she had been doing before she was unconscious. "I woke up and noticed that I felt off, so I tried to remember what I had been doing last night… but I can't rememb-" She went blank again, this time barely keeping conscious through the unexpected pain. She could dimly hear Professor Flitwick calling her name again, and her vision swirled around again before righting itself.
"My dear," the tiny man said worriedly. "I think we should get you to the Hospital Wing strait away! Minerva has just taken Severus there not even ten minutes ago with the same symptoms that you have.
…...
Severus Snape awoke at quarter to six in one of the most gloomy moods he had ever experienced. It was even worse than waking up with a hangover only to be stunned, and then waking up from that. He groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore how awful he felt in hope of getting a bit more sleep before his normal seven thirty alarm. Only after he was almost asleep again, did he wonder what could have made him feel so badly. He searched back to the night before, realizing that the last thing he remembered was walking out of the Library with Charity Burbage, before his thoughts were forcibly stopped and extreme pain shot through his head like his brain was trying to apparate without him.
When he woke up again, it was to find that he was now on the floor next to his bed, and Minerva McGonagall's face took up his whole line of vision. She appeared to be shaking him, and her face was set so she could have either been worried or miffed.
"Severus!' She exclaimed, realizing that he had come to. "What happened? Why were you screaming? And why are you on the floor?"
He blinked a couple of times and sat up stiffly. Minerva remained kneeling beside him as he rested his head on his bedside table. "I don't know. I was trying to remember what I did before I went to b-" His mind went blank with pain again as he tried to recall, once again, what he had done after going to the library. Had he and Charity ever made it to the roof? Had they ever found Quirrell? Why can't I remember?
…...
Albus Dumbledore had woken up that morning, fully intent on dawdling around until the sun came up over the top of the trees, walking slowly to the Great Hall, eating a marvelous breakfast, thanking the House Elves, and then starting his duties as Headmaster. What he had not counted on, was his Flying Instructor banging through his office door at ½ past six and exclaiming that his Potions Master and Muggle Studies Professor were both in the Hospital wing suffering from some sort of memory loss.
He swept through the castle, down four flights of stairs to the Hospital wing and found the place in a state of discord. Almost every teacher was there, crowded around two beds in the middle of the room, upon which were a slightly hysterical Charity Burbage, and a blank faced Severus Snape.
"Albus!" Minerva cried thankfully, walking briskly over to him. "Whenever they try to remember what they did last night, they experience some sort of mental block and pass out!" She pursed her lips almost angrily and began thinking aloud some of the things that could have caused it. Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore walked over to Snape and sat down on the edge of his bed, staring into the man's black eyes.
"Headmaster." Snape said in greeting. "I trust you know what can fix us."
Dumbledore smiled at the man. "Yes, Severus. I am fairly certain that this is just a badly done Memory Charm. I would try to remove them, but one never knows how much damage it could do." He looked over at Charity and tried to calm her with a smile. "So, I think if I just put up a small block around it, you should both be able to slide right over it like it was not there. No more pain, no more blacking out. Unfortunately, by doing this, we will never know what happened to you both last night." He raised an eyebrow waiting for a response.
Snape frowned and sighed. "That is fine Professor. But is there no way to figure out what happened?"
"Oh there are many ways to find the truth, but none that would ensure the safety of yours and Miss. Burbage's sanity afterwards. And I really do not wish to search for both a new Potions Master and a Muggle Studies Professor at the same time."
"I'm sure the paperwork would be awful as well Professor." Charity smiled a painful version of her usual beam. "Maybe you should just put up the block. This really does hurt." She grimaced and closed her eyes tightly.
"Well, Charity, if you would stop trying to remember, maybe it would not be so painful." Snape nearly growled, clearly annoyed.
"Well, Severus, maybe if we were not currently talking about it I wouldn't be thinking about it. Not all of us have complete control over everything like you apparently do." She spat back, and uncharacteristically frowned, turning her head away.
Dumbledore, sensing that Snape was about to respond in a way that would not cast him in a good light, cleared his throat and asked if they would like for him to begin. The professors assented and soon, everyone was back in their own rooms, preparing for the day.