In Memory's Wake Chapter 16: If you were yourself, a harry potter fanfic

Title: In Memory's Wake
Author: Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Disclaimer: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

In Memory's Wake by CocoaSnape

Chapter 16: If you were yourself

Hermione Granger bustled down the corridor and took the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower two at a time. Having attended dinner just long enough to stash four rolls of crusty bread in her robes, she hurriedly ate one of them on her way to the common room. Deliberately quickening her pace, she pretended to be unaware of the voice calling her with ever increasing volume from down the hall.

When she finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she gave the password and glanced covertly over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I cannot allow you entrance."

"Why not? I gave the correct password," Hermione said quickly.

"Yes you did, but the doorway is locked."

"Locked?" Hermione asked in confusion. "Who locked it?"

"I did," came the terse reply from behind her.

Hermione winced and, accepting her fate, slowly turned around to find her Head of House with a look of obvious displeasure on her face.

"Oh, hello, Professor," Hermione offered weakly.

"Miss Granger, am I to understand that you have not heard me calling you all this time?" McGonagall asked skeptically.

Hermione feigned a sudden epiphany. "Oh! That was you, Professor? I thought that was someone else."

"Oh really? Why don't you tell me why it is that you're skipping dinner, Miss Granger?"

"I just have a lot of homework to do, Professor. I wanted to get an early start."

"Hmm. This doesn't have anything to do with Mr. Potter now, does it?"

This indeed had everything to do with Harry. Hermione took a deep breath and attempted to school her expression.

"No, why would you think that?"

"Perhaps because he's been truant the past two days."

"He's been sick," Hermione lied.

"Then he should be in the hospital wing."

"It's just a cold, Professor."

Harry Potter had skipped his classes on Thursday and Friday, and he had done so without obtaining a medical clearance from Madam Pomfrey. Hogwarts policy dictated that he should at least visit the hospital wing if missing classes due to illness. McGonagall stared at the brunette in front of her, the smartest in her class, and admittedly, her favorite student. Although she didn't quite believe Hermione's story, she decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Tell Mr. Potter that if he is not back in class Monday morning, I will take him forcibly either to the hospital wing or to the Headmaster's office."

"Yes, Professor."

It took Hermione less than a minute to make it up to Boy's dormitory and enter Harry's room. Despite the delay with Professor McGonagall, everyone was still at dinner, which meant that she would have the privacy she desired.

"Harry, it's me."

When no answer came, she repeated, "Harry?"

A moment later, she heard the despondent grumble of acknowledgement.

Hermione pulled open the curtains of the four poster bed to reveal its occupant, whom had not left his bed, save trips to the bathroom, for the past 48 hours.

Harry had said nothing to anyone about his encounter with Severus of two days ago. Instead he'd shut himself behind the heavy curtains and tried desperately to fall asleep, hoping impossibly that when he woke he'd find the last few weeks had all been a dream. But to no avail. The bitter truth was that his lover had not only forgotten him and their relationship, but had unequivocally told him that whatever relationship they may have had was now over.

"I brought you a few rolls from dinner," Hermione said, pulling the bread out of her pockets and placing it next to Harry.

"I'm not hungry."

Hermione sighed deeply before finally saying seriously, and a bit desperately, "Harry, I'm begging you, please tell me what's wrong."

He didn't want to insult her intelligence by lying and telling her it was nothing as he had done with Ron. Besides, given how supportive she'd been of him, she didn't deserve to be lied to. "I can't tell you, 'Mione. Please just leave."

"Does this…" she began hesitantly, but plowed on, "Does this have anything to do with Professor Snape?"

Harry shut his eyes as tightly as he could, struggling to prevent the tears from leaking out of his eyes. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he replied, "Hermione, please go away."

With much reluctance, the brown haired girl did as she was asked, but not before giving her best friend's arm a squeeze.

The moment she was out of sight, Harry closed the curtains around his bed and flopped back down on his back. Placing his hand on his chest, his attention focused immediately on the notable absence of his ruby amulet, the one Severus had given him as a declaration of his love. In a moment of particular stupidity, he had given it back. Words couldn't have expressed how much he regretted that decision now.

The amulet was singularly special, a gift from Severus the night they'd first made love, the very first time Severus had told him he loved him in return. It was laden with a host of powerful protective charms cast by Dumbledore himself, but that was not the reason Harry mourned its loss. That amulet was his only tangible connection to Severus. He had no pictures of them together, of course. Anything like that would have posed too great a risk of being discovered. As it was, other than his memories, he had no proof that he and Severus had ever been together. But, after what had happened with Severus, Harry was grateful that he at least still had his memories.

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Hours after everyone had gone to bed, Harry pulled open the curtains around his bed and made his way out of Gryffindor Tower. He had no specific destination in mind, but after his lethargy over the past two days, he felt the urge to go for a walk.

He took the Marauder's Map with him so that he could avoid any unfortunate run-ins, and he headed directly for the fourth floor corridor. His muscles were stiff from inactivity and it felt good to stretch them. As he turned the corner, he saw the relevant door and entered the room.

It was empty. He didn't honestly believe that Dumbledore would have returned the mirror here, but he didn't think there was any harm in looking. Harry wondered briefly what it was that he would see in the enchanted reflection if he had the chance, what variation of him and Severus together his ultimate desire would take. It didn't matter, he finally realized, as long as they were together.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice from behind him. The feeling of déjà vu was palpable.

"I'm sorry it's no longer here, dear boy."

Harry turned to see the Headmaster taking a few slow steps toward him. Although it was very late, he was dressed in his usual exquisitely colorful robes.

"I didn't think it would be," Harry answered in resignation.

A moment later Dumbledore spoke again. "It's good to see you out of bed, Harry."

Guiltily, Harry's eyes went immediately to the floor. "I'm sorry, sir."

"There's no need to apologize." Dumbledore hesitated a moment before beginning, "Harry―"

"I'll be in class on Monday, Professor," Harry interrupted.

Dumbledore pushed his glasses further up his nose and responded, "Well that is good to know, but please don't think that two days of missed classes on your part is the reason I came to see you tonight. I'm here because I wanted to know why you haven't told your friends about what's happened between you and Severus."

"How do you know I haven't?" Harry asked, somewhat irked by Dumbledore's presumption.

The elder wizard quirked his left eyebrow in answer.

Harry shrugged in defeat, and said not unkindly, "I forgot, you know everything."

"I wish I did, Harry, I wish I did. Unfortunately, rumors of my omnipotence are greatly exaggerated. You know you are always welcome to speak with me, and I hope that you will, but given the incredible stress of this situation I wanted to be sure you know that it is perfectly appropriate and, more than that, it would be advisable if you confided in your friends."

That was the very last thing Harry wanted to do. It would mean admitting what had happened. Admitting to himself that Severus had forgotten him, that this wasn't all some fantastic nightmare.

"I thought maybe I wouldn't have to. I mean… you did say that Severus would get his memories back soon."

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh before answering. "Memory is a very complicated thing, Harry. The mind is far too complex to predict with any accuracy, even in Muggles. But in witches and wizards," Dumbledore said, his voice emphasizing the distinction, "there is a whole new realm of intricacy when magic plays a role in memory. Beyond that, the complexity increases incalculably in those that are proficient in Occlumency. And I'm sure you are aware that Severus is not only proficient in Occlumency, but he is truly a master; he's the second best Occlumens I know."

"Next to Voldemort?"

Dumbledore smiled. "No, next to myself. Voldemort never had the need to become a truly exceptional Occlumens. After all, who was there to test him? Legilimency was where he placed his energies. Another mistake of his. It never occurred to him that anyone would be capable of doing anything more than simply trying to prevent his intrusions; he could never conceive of the power an Occlumens like Severus could wield against him."

Dumbledore paused a moment, visibly troubled as he continued, "The problem now is that Severus is wielding that very power against himself."

Harry dropped his head and muttered, "It's my fault, Professor. I'm the one who…" He couldn't bring himself to finish.

Dumbledore took a step forward and placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, you need to stop blaming yourself. Although I'm sure your encounter with Severus did not help matters, Severus was already heading down a dangerous path long before that night. I offered him help many times, and each time he refused me. There very little else we could do."

"But he will remember again, won't he?"

Dumbledore's immediate impulse was to lie. To say, of course his memories will return. To temporize this agony, to save Harry that pain. But he suppressed that urge, reminding himself of the moment a year and a half ago he resolved he'd never do that again.

"I can't say with absolute certainty that he will."

Harry's eyes widened in stunned disbelief. "But… but you said that he would! You said that he'd just buried the memories."

"I know. It was the most likely explanation after his memory loss. But it's now been a week, Harry, and unfortunately that complicates matters a great deal. Severus is clearly doing more than just repressing these memories. They would have resurfaced on their own otherwise. It's almost as though he's obliviated them in a sense, for lack of a better analogy."

Harry stared at the Headmaster in shock, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"It is possible, Harry," Dumbledore continued, "that Severus's mind may not be able to remember. The memories may be too damaged, or his mind may be unable to cope with the effects."

Finally finding his voice, Harry asked tentatively, "Can't you fix this?"

"I'd have to find the memories first and then guide him to find them on his own. But to do that, I'd have to enter Severus's mind. I'm not sure he'd be amenable to that." Noticing Harry's dejected expression, Dumbledore added, "Harry, I'm only telling you this so that you are aware of all the possibilities. I am still confident that Severus will regain his memories. We're just going to have to be patient."

"But you're going to help him, aren't you? You're going to try and make him remember?"

"Harry…"

"Please."

"I will do all I can to help him."

Dumbledore turned and started out of the room. Right before he exited, he stopped and said, "Think about what I said earlier, Harry. You need your friends now. Goodnight, my boy."

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Harry spent a couple more hours sitting on the cold stone floor where Dumbledore had left him. He hadn't quite accepted all that the Headmaster had told him, but he was beginning to realize that things weren't just going to resolve themselves in the next few days either.

When he finally returned to the common room, it was well past three in the morning. To his surprise, he found Hermione asleep on the common room sofa. She stirred awake and met his gaze, a soft sad expression on her face, and Harry realized that she'd been waiting for him. Perhaps Ron had told her of his absence. But why she was there was unimportant.

After a long moment, and to Hermione's utter surprise, Harry said, "There's something I need to tell you."

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Harry felt sick to his stomach. There may have been nothing physically wrong with him, but being back in Potions class was as close to the most painful experience imaginable. It was difficult to put into words, the emotions he felt watching his former lover's behavior toward him now. Of course, no one else noticed anything amiss – Professor Snape was professional, civil, detached, too much so in fact. He hadn't uttered so much as a stern word at Harry the entire class. Months ago, this behavior might have been suspiciously nice. Now it was sheer torture.

The lack of affection from him was palpable and Harry thought if this lasted very much longer he'd go mad. He needed to do something, anything, to spark Severus's memories.

Ron seemed to notice his sullen mood, leaning over to him and whispering, "What's wrong with you, mate? You don't look so good."

"It's nothing."

"Another fight?" Ron asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Ron, shut it!" Hermione interjected angrily, glancing up to make sure Snape was out of earshot.

"I guess this one was a doozie," Ron continued, oblivious to the pain in his best friend's eyes. "I don't know why you even bother."

Harry said nothing, but Hermione could not remain silent. "I swear, Ronald, if you say another word…!"

"Geez, 'Mione, relax… I was only asking."

The rest of class passed without complication, but by the end Harry was desperate to speak with Severus, if only for a moment. Every minute he stood in Severus's presence was another minute that might make his memories begin to creep back into his consciousness. Besides, he missed talking to him. And if he couldn't have the conversation he wanted, at this point, he'd settle for speaking about his homework. Anything to be in the same room with Severus and be noticed.

Once everyone had filed out, Harry stepped towards the front of the room where Snape was writing, without seeming to have noticed Harry standing there. When, after a long minute, his writing did not cease, Harry began politely, "Professor Snape, I don't want to interrupt, but—"

"So don't and get out."

That was far blunter than he'd imagined, but he did not obey. Another minute later, when it became apparent to his Professor that he was not leaving, Harry felt the powerful silencing charm go up around them.

"Just what is it precisely, Mr. Potter," Snape said in his distinctive drawl, "that you think you're doing?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," Harry answered.

Snape stared at him a long moment, as if he were trying to deduce if he was telling the truth. Finally he spoke. "There is nothing else we need to speak about; I believe I have already made that clear to you. Now—"

"But you have to talk to me!" Harry began desperately.

Snape's eyes ignited with sudden hostility. He stood sharply and made his way around the desk until he stood face to face with Harry. His manner and tone brokered no argument as he issued a stern warning, "Listen very carefully, Mr. Potter, because I will not repeat myself. I am not your friend; I am not even friendly. And you certainly have no right to demand anything of me. Don't make that mistake again, or you will be sorry. Now get out of my office before I throw you out."

Harry considered refusing, but decided it was wiser not to push his luck. He exited the classroom feeling dejected. Severus's reaction to him had been so controlled, so devoid of emotion, it was agonizing. There was not even a hint in his demeanor that suggested he may remember their relationship, even subconsciously.

He was so absorbed in his train of thought that as he left the room, he ran straight into Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing here?" Harry demanded instinctively.

"Me? What about you?" Malfoy retorted. "What are you and Professor Snape talking about that needs a silencing charm?"

Harry did not hesitate; he was well practiced for this type of questioning. "Snape's an arse, you should ask him, you little sneak," Harry huffed angrily. It was funny – the words came out easier than Harry ever thought they would.

Malfoy started to draw his wand, perhaps in response to the slight against his Head of House, but Hermione and Ron were there before he could. "Don't even think about it, Malfoy."

"Here comes your girlfriend and the Weasel to save you, Potter."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron spat.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing her friend's arm, "we're going to be late for Charms."

Seeing his friend's disheartened expression, Ron said, "You shouldn't let Malfoy get to you like that, mate."

Harry didn't bother to respond; the last thing on his mind was Malfoy.

He glanced over at Hermione to see if she understood, and her sad eyes said it all.

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Dumbledore tried knocking for the fourth time before he finally decided to enter Severus's quarters. It wasn't like Severus not to answer him, and given Severus's fragile mental state, he needed to make sure he was alright. What if Severus had regained his memories and collapsed?

He poked his head inside and was surprised to see that his Potions Master and friend was not in any distress, but absorbed in a book.

"Severus?"

Snape's head shot up. "Albus!" he said, quickly closing the bound volume he was reading and placing it under some papers he'd been grading.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but I knocked several times and got no answer. I was worried."

"Oh, I must not have heard. Please come in."

Dumbledore did, asking casually, "So what are you up to today?"

"Nothing," Snape said quickly.

"Hmm. It must be quite an interesting nothing for you to feel it necessary to hide it from me," Dumbledore replied with a wink.

Snape considered making up a lie, but knew Albus would see through it. He pulled the journal out from underneath the papers.

"It's Potter's journal," he admitted. "And quite frankly, I cannot believe I'm even reading it."

"You were curious," Dumbledore suggested. After a pause he asked, "Anything interesting in there?"

"This isn't me, Albus," he said forcefully, setting the journal on the table abruptly as if it were toxic. "This must be a fabrication."

Dumbledore took a seat opposite him on the sofa and studied his friend with keen interest. "Why would you say that, Severus?"

"I wouldn't…" Snape paused a moment, trying to think of the right words. "I wouldn't say these things; I certainly wouldn't… do these things," Snape finished, doing his best not to let his embarrassment show.

"Care to share?"

"No," Snape said firmly and a bit too quickly. Desperate for a changing of topic, he remembered his manners. "Would you care for some tea?"

"Thank you, yes."

It took a few minutes for the tea to arrive. Once Dumbledore had prepared his cup with an egregiously large amount of honey, he leaned back and spoke as though the subject were never dropped. "You know, Severus, you did a lot of things you didn't think you would." A pause. "That happens when you're in love."

Dumbledore could see Severus cringe at that pronouncement. But the reply that came was not at all what he expected, not a denial, nor an attempt at redirection, but instead a rare moment of disclosure. "He wasn't lying. I did tell him…" Snape began, his voice the tiniest of whispers, as though he might be overheard. "I told him I loved him. It's…" Snape struggled for the right words. "It's… ridiculous is what it is."

Dumbledore did not miss a beat. "I think it's quite beautiful."

Snape scowled and emitted a frustrated sigh. "What it is, is impossible." He didn't want to discuss this anymore, and he made sure to make it evident in his expression.

Dumbledore leaned forward and deliberately set down his cup. "Let me ask you something, Severus. Are you trying to retrieve your memories?"

"Whatever for?" Snape asked.

"Ah, so you're actively avoiding it then?"

"That's absurd," Snape scoffed. "I simply meant that I've tried before and there's no point looking for something that's not there. Not that I really want to remember any of this," Snape muttered as he gestured towards the journal.

A quirk of an eyebrow from Dumbledore told Snape that the Headmaster was not convinced. "What? You don't believe me?"

"It's been over a week since you lost your memories, Severus. I was sure you'd have begun to recover at least some of them by now. Have you tried accessing beyond your outermost shields?"

"Of course I have," Snape said petulantly. "What do you take me for?"

"Would you mind, my boy, if I looked?" Dumbledore could detect the slight shiver of panic from Severus at that suggestion. It was no small favor he was asking for, and it required a great deal of trust on Severus's part to allow him such access. "Not very deep, of course, and I'd leave the memories undisturbed. Just enough to glean some hints as to where they might be."

Severus carefully weighed the question in his mind. "Only if you promise that this will be the last time. I don't want to keep having this conversation for the next ten years."

Ah, so they were to bargain then. "Agreed." Dumbledore could sense his friend's anxiety and he was sympathetic. It said mountains about their friendship that Severus was willing to allow him this.

A moment later, an unnerved Severus asked, "How do you want to do this exactly?"

"Focus on the fire," Dumbledore said softly, "and whenever you're ready drop your outer shields. I promise to be quick."

Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for this invasion. He thought he must have been insane to allow this, but then again, he knew he could never refuse Albus anything for very long. Might as well get this over with.

Dumbledore could see Severus's nerves. "Severus…" When the younger wizard looked at him, he continued gently, "The reason I'm doing this is because I care about you, my boy. You do know that, don't you?"

It took a moment, but Snape finally nodded in reply.

Dumbledore smiled. "Alright then, whenever you're ready."

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Like clockwork, and to Dumbledore's consternation, Harry was at his door that very evening. He dreaded the prospect of telling Harry what he'd found, and he hoped fervently, albeit unrealistically, that it didn't come up.

"How is he?"

"Barring the fact that he hasn't recovered his memories, he seems to be doing very well."

Harry sighed. Somehow that didn't make him feel very much better. And in the next moment he felt guilty for thinking that. He voiced his thoughts. "I should be glad that he's okay," he said, almost to himself. "He was in such a bad state before and all I can think about is that he's forgotten me."

"Harry, it's perfectly natural to feel as you do. You're not expected to be selfless; this is affecting you too."

"I took your advice, Professor, and told Hermione what happened."

"I'm glad to hear it, my boy. It's important you have the support of your friends."

And then, just as Dumbledore thought he might, Harry asked the dreaded question. "So I take it he didn't let you look for the memories?"

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh. "Actually, he did."

"He did?!" Harry said excitedly. "That's great. You can help him find his memories now!"

"Harry…" Dumbledore said gently, "unfortunately, I couldn't find them either."

"What? I don't understand."

"It seems that Severus has buried these memories deep in his psyche, so much so that I saw no evidence of them." It was more than that, Dumbledore thought. He'd been shocked to see the organization of Severus's mind. Immaculate. Not a single thread out of place. Not even a minute sign of a disturbance. Dumbledore felt certain he would have detected some hint of disorder.

"So what does that mean?"

Dumbledore met Harry's gaze, his bright green eyes looking to him for the answer, and answer he did not have.

"I'm not precisely sure; I'm still hoping to find some clues in some very old Psychlimency texts I'm studying. But what I do know, Harry, is that I can't find Severus's memories for him. It would be dangerous to delve very much deeper inside anyone's mind without more information. We will just have to wait for Severus to regain his memories on his own time."

Harry dropped his head in his hands. Holding back tears, he wondered how much longer he would have to wait.

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It was perhaps the worst Potions lesson of his life, and that was saying something.

But here he was, just shy of two weeks from his encounter with Severus on the Astronomy Tower. After Severus had regained consciousness in the hospital wing, and his memory loss had been revealed, Dumbledore had warned him that this would be harder on him. Harry remembered scoffing at the notion. Severus was the one with memory loss and post traumatic stress; he was the one suffering. Or so it was supposed to be. It wasn't.

Snape was in usual form and Harry was depressed beyond measure. And desperate to boot. His mind seized on the fact that Dumbledore had not dissuaded him from speaking with Severus since his memory loss first occurred. The Headmaster had even seemed to think that their encounters might trigger Severus's memories to return.

And even though Professor Snape had told him in no uncertain terms last class that he was not to attempt to engage him in conversation, Harry Potter was not one to follow the rules, especially ones he didn't agree with.

Snape held back his sigh of frustration when he saw Potter dawdling once more as he packed up his books. When the last student had left the classroom, he noticed that the young man immediately cast a warding and silencing charm. He schooled his patience and did his best not to overreact. The last thing he needed was Dumbledore giving him lectures on professionalism.

"Mr. Potter, I thought I made it perfectly clear to you that I do not wish to speak with you. Now unless you have a legitimate question about Potions, although I cannot imagine why it would require a silencing spell, I'll ask you to leave."

Realizing he had not planned on what to say, Harry quickly formed an idea in his mind. "I wanted to talk to you about resuming my lessons."

Snape's eyes widened and he quirked his head to the side. He hadn't been expecting that. "Out of the question," he replied calmly.

"Why?" Harry asked, deciding to continue with the conversation. At least Severus was speaking with him! "You were tutoring me before in Occlumency and Defense. Don't you think we should continue?"

Snape spotted the catch. To say no would imply he didn't feel comfortable tutoring Potter, to say yes would play right into Potter's hands. "I'll speak with the Headmaster about it. But if you're so serious," Snape continued slyly, "you may begin by writing 20 feet of parchment on your current proficiencies in these topics, your existing weaknesses, and how you to plan to rectify them."

"20 feet?" Harry asked, pretending to sound overwhelmed, but secretly he was thrilled to pieces by the prospect that Severus was actually considering his request.

"Anything else is not adequate and would tell me at once that you are not serious."

"I'm serious," Harry declared resolutely. Suddenly realizing an opportunity, he added, "Why else would I want to continue lessons after having Unforgivables thrown at me?"

Snape brow wrinkled in confusion and Harry pressed on, "Remember when you cast those Unforgivables at me that time?"

"What are you on about?" Snape asked with dismissive irritation. "However appealing that may sound, Dumbledore would never allow it."

"But he did. And you cast them. Don't you remember? I cast the Cruciatus back."

Snape was well aware of what Potter was doing, but he had to admit, his curiosity had been piqued. "You cast the Cruciatus at me?" he asked, almost laughing at the notion. "Were you successful?

"Uhmm… well, not the first time," Harry replied sheepishly.

Snape's eyes widened. "The first time?" he asked in surprise.

Harry was in heaven. Severus was speaking with him and he was determined to draw this out as long as possible. "Yeah, the first time you sort of fell back a bit, and then you laughed at me."

"Sounds like something I might do," Snape drawled with some amusement.

"And then you dared me to do it again, but this time to mean it," Harry said, his eyes alive with the memory of that night.

"And did you, Potter?" Snape asked in a silky whisper. "Did you mean it?"

Harry's knees nearly buckled at the tone of Severus's words. It was as close to sexy as he'd heard from the man in weeks. He felt his heart begin to beat more rapidly in his chest.

"Yes," Harry whispered. "I thought…" Harry paused and took a deep breath. "I thought you'd be angry with me, but you weren't. You were proud."

Snape knew he was going to regret asking this, but he couldn't stop himself. "And what exactly was it that precipitated all of this?"

"I asked you to teach me the defense against Vol…" Harry stopped. "Sorry. Against You Know Who."

Snape snorted, half-amused, half-irritated with the notion.

Harry smiled. "That's exactly what you said. And you told me there was no defense. I just needed to be prepared." Harry paused and collected his thoughts. "That's what you've been teaching me in my lessons. Do you remember that? Do you remember me casting that Cruciatus on you?"

"No I do not, and as entertaining as this story time has been, Mr. Potter, I think you should be going," Snape said shortly.

"You cast it at me first. Don't you remember that? And then—"

"Potter!" Snape snapped in annoyance. "I'm not interested in playing your little memory games."

"But—"

"Enough! I see that this is all that you had in mind when you requested lessons," Snape said sharply. "I should have known better. Now get out."

"But, Severus…" Harry stopped, knowing instantly he'd made a very big mistake.

The transformation in Snape's countenance was instantaneous. He looked as though he were going to explode, his nostrils flaring, his eyes wide and angry. Yet his body remained still. "Two weeks detention starting this Saturday, Potter." Snape must have caught the hopeful gleam in his eye and squashed it immediately when he added, "…with Filch."

It was an excessive punishment no doubt, but Snape didn't care.

"Now, if you ever call me by my given name again, in any setting, I will not be so lenient again."

Harry swallowed roughly, trying to clear his throat enough to apologize. But he did not get the chance. Before Harry could utter a word, Severus was gone.

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Snape made his way to Dumbledore's quarters directly after his meeting with Potter. He couldn't help but smirk when he thought of it – two weeks with Filch was enough to make anyone regret being born.

As he entered Dumbledore's office, he found the Headmaster deep in thought. Papers were strewn about, and Snape surmised that he'd been reading his mail. He did not look well.

"You called for me, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore shook himself from his thoughts and looked up slowly to see his friend standing in his outer office. "Yes, Severus. Will you please join me in the sitting room?"

Snape nodded and after a moment, followed. It was rare to see Dumbledore looking so solemn and Snape couldn't help but wonder what was wrong. They sat and Dumbledore went straight to business.

"I have an important favor to ask of you, Severus."

"Alright."

"It is of a personal nature." A pause. "I need you to brew some potions for me."

A pang of concern flared in Snape's chest. "Whatever you need, Albus." He held his breath as Dumbledore handed him a piece of parchment containing a list of considerable length.

Snape's eyebrows went up as he glanced over it; he knew instantly that these potions were not for the Headmaster. He wanted to ask whom they were for, but did not. The list contained very powerful potions, ranging from sedatives to antipsychotics.

Dumbledore did not leave Snape wondering for long. "They are for a very close friend. I cannot say any more."

A friend in St. Mungo's no doubt, Snape thought. Studying the list once more, he took in its complexity. He'd brewed less than half of these potions before, either because they were archaic, illegal or both.

"You do know that many of these are Ministry-restricted?" Snape asked carefully.

"Does that pose a problem?" Dumbledore asked, already aware of the answer.

"No," Snape replied easily. "But the list is complicated, Albus. It will take time, and many of these will require very exotic ingredients."

"I understand," Dumbledore replied. "Withdraw whatever funds you need from my account. And please make sure you spare no expense when it comes to quality. I'll compensate you for your time as well, of course."

"There's no need for that," Snape insisted.

"I appreciate this, my boy."

"Of course," Snape said with a bow of his head. "I hope your friend recovers soon."

"So do I, Severus," Dumbledore said sadly. A moment later he asked, "And how are you feeling, my boy?"

"Me?" Snape asked with wide eyes, unable to believe that Dumbledore was even asking about him when his friend was so ill. "I'm fine. Are you okay, Albus?"

Dumbledore attempted a smile. "I'm alright."

Snape tried to be comforting. "Would you like some tea?"

"That sounds wonderful."

A few minutes later as the tea was being prepared, the door to Dumbledore's quarters swung open and Harry Potter entered. He caught a glimpse of the Headmaster in his sitting room and took the stairs towards it. "Professor!" he called out.

Dumbledore could see the rage immediately bubble in Severus's eyes. His Potions Master shot from his chair in a flash. As soon as Harry stepped into the room, he was confronted by his livid former lover.

"Why you immature little tattletale! It's not ten minutes since you received your punishment and you're already complaining to the Headmaster about it?! If you think you're going to get out of it—"

"Severus!" Dumbledore interrupted sharply.

Snape's gaze swung towards the Headmaster.

"I asked Harry to stop by this evening. He's not here to complain about a detention."

"That's not bloody likely," Snape muttered.

Dumbledore could see that Harry looked on the verge of tears. "Harry," Dumbledore said gently, "perhaps we could postpone our meeting until tomorrow?"

Harry managed a nod. He looked for a moment that he was going to say something, but refrained and left without a word.

Dumbledore was aware that Severus was still muttering epitaphs under his breath, fuming about Harry's appearance a moment ago.

"Severus, what the devil is wrong with you?"

"With me?" he asked enraged. "What about him?"

"What about him?"

"He's following me everywhere! Begging to speak with me. He's driving me nuts!"

"He's a confused teenager and he's acting like it," Dumbledore responded calmly. "What about the way you're acting?"

"Me?"

"Your reaction was excessive and you know it," Dumbledore chided. "I won't ask you to change his punishment, Severus, but—"

"Headmaster, you have no business interfering—"

"I just said I won't ask you to change his punishment, but I would ask you to reconsider the severity of it. Two weeks worth of detentions for a simple slip of the tongue—"

"It was not a slip!" Snape fumed. "He did it deliberately, I know he did."

Dumbledore sighed. "Regardless, two weeks is excessive. It will only adversely impact Harry's studies and it will not change how he feels about you."

"Never underestimate how much scrubbing toilets can influence someone so young."

"Or inspire the right amount of hatred?" Dumbledore asked astutely. "Is that what you're trying to do, Severus? Make him hate you?"

"You're constantly saying the two are not far off. Besides, Potter already hates me; he just doesn't know it."

"Severus, you're giving me a neck cramp. Will you please sit down?"

Snape took his seat once more. Dumbledore eyed his friend for a long moment before beginning, "I am very worried about you, my boy."

"Me? Whatever for? I'm fine."

"You are overreacting to him. This is obviously affecting you. Your excessive punishment indicates that. Tell me why his using your first name upset you so?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Let's not start this. And I don't appreciate you trying to psychoanalyze me."

"I'm doing nothing of the sort. I'm trying to get you to talk to me, about this, about everything. You must be feeling confused about this memory loss…"

"I was fine until Potter started showing up every ten minutes. I just want to be left alone and let everything go back to normal."

"But things aren't normal, Severus. That's why you need to talk. Not just about this incident, about everything." A pause. "You could talk to me."

Snape snorted his disdain at that idea. "When hell freezes over."

Dumbledore's eyebrows went up. "That must be your new favorite expression. You used it on me recently, Severus. Do you remember that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Snape replied curtly.

Dumbledore took a moment to consider the situation. "Alright, Severus, hear me out. You had very strong feelings for Harry. It's possible that you're subconsciously beginning to remember these feelings, and that in order to suppress them, you're treating him with greater disdain than usual."

"What the hell kind of crackpot theory is that?" Snape snapped.

"Even when the two of you were at your most contentious some years ago, you would not have given him two weeks detention with Argus for minor disrespect. Admit it."

"Why does it feel like you're playing matchmaker?" Snape asked irately.

"I'm sorry if it seems that way. I assure you, I am not. You two found each other. I am merely advocating…"

"Figures," Snape interrupted angrily, standing from his chair. "You would be on his side. Always Potter, Potter, Potter."

"You misunderstand me, Severus," Dumbledore said earnestly, "I'm advocating for you."

"For me?" Snape asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, nodding his head. "Believe me, my boy, if you were yourself, you'd want me to."

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Author's note: First I'd like to apologize to everyone for the very long delay since my last update. My life has been insanely busy these past months and continues to be so. But I made some time over the holidays to write and the result is my longest chapter to date. I know you have all been very patient, but your continued patience is much appreciated.

Thank you for your kind reviews and PMs. I continue to be overwhelmed.

Hugs as always to Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui for the beta.

I look forward to your comments on this chapter.