In Memory's Wake Chapter 17: Up in flames, 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 17: Up in flames

It had gone horribly wrong from the beginning. Slytherin had gained the upper hand with a rapid fire goal in the very first minute of the match and Gryffindor had never recovered. With no guidance from the Gryffindor captain, who seemed completely uninterested in the proceedings as he flew around the pitch, a few more goals were scored against them. The crowd seemed undeterred, however, certain that the star Seeker would pull out a spectacular finish as he'd done on so many occasions before. But not this time.

Harry may have been the team's star and its captain, but his heart wasn't in the game. He'd barely made an effort to catch the snitch, and had in fact accidentally alerted the other seeker to its position such that, a few moments later, the game was over and the Slytherin team had captured victory.

Now in the locker room, nearly all the boys had showered and left. Harry sat on the bench, unmoving, lost in thought.

His best friend did his best to console him, but for all the wrong reasons. "It happens, mate. We'll have better luck next time."

When Harry did not respond, Ron continued, "It doesn't matter anyway. We're already in the finals this year and all that. It just sucks losing to that lot, is all."

Harry looked up slowly and eyed his friend very carefully before he said, "I'm quitting the team."

"What?" Ron asked in astonishment. "It was one bad game, Harry!"

"It's not that. I just…" Harry sighed. He felt defeated. He couldn't explain his reason, not to Ron anyway. The simple fact was that he didn't care about Quidditch. He didn't care about anything anymore. "I don't want to play anymore, Ron. I'm just… tired."

"Is this because of those long detentions with Filch?" Ron asked, taking Harry literally. "I'm sure McGonagall can sort that out. Hey… wait a minute. Why did Snape give you those detentions anyway? I don't get it. Did—"

A rustle of fabric caught Harry's attention and his ears perked up. He quickly interrupted in a whisper, "Shh, I think someone's there."

Harry stood and made his way toward the locker room exit. As he turned the corner, he came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Watch it, Potter," Malfoy snapped.

"What are you doing?"

"I forgot my gloves," Malfoy said, gesturing towards the bench. Harry glanced over and saw Malfoy's gloves there. "Is that a problem? Sorry to interrupt your pity party. But you really were pitiful out there today."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron threatened.

"Let's go, Ron," Harry said, diffusing the situation. He wasn't in the mood for an altercation.

They exited into the side of the stadium and saw Hermione waiting for them. "That was a good effort, Harry," Hermione said consolingly. "You too, Ron."

"I'm quitting the team, 'Mione," Harry said, without preamble.

"No he's not," Ron said at once. "Harry, you just need to relax. Tomorrow's Hogsmeade. We'll load up on sweets; that'll change your mind."

"I'm not going."

"What? Why not?"

"Dumbledore said it's not safe."

"When was this?" Ron asked in dubious surprise.

"Yesterday," Harry answered flatly. "He told me no more Hogsmeade for now." Since Severus was no longer able to check in periodically with Voldemort, the Headmaster had felt it prudent that Harry remain on the grounds. On the slim chance that a Death Eater raid was planned, the Order would have no foreknowledge to that effect. Harry hadn't even argued with the Headmaster. He didn't want to go anyway.

"And since when do you listen to Dumbledore?" Ron asked impatiently. "You can sneak out."

"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded. "This is Harry's safety we're talking about."

"But everyone else is going."

"Harry's not everyone else."

Ron looked annoyed. "Okay, fine. Forget Hogsmeade, but you can't be serious about Quidditch…"

Ron started in on him, about how valuable he was to the team, about how they couldn't go on without him. Hermione could tell that Harry wasn't listening. Neither was she.

Over the past few days, her concerns for Harry had grown. He was tuning out, out of his classes, away from his friends, now out of Quidditch, out of life. She'd been watching him carefully at meals and noticed that he barely touched his food these days. If she didn't know better, she might have suspected that he had fabricated Dumbledore's instructions not to go to Hogsmeade just so that he could avoid having to socialize. Even though she knew he was being truthful, it was one more way for him to disconnect from his friends and from her.

Ron finally noticed that he didn't have his friend's attention. "Harry, are you listening to me?"

Harry looked up and said, "I've got a detention to serve," and he walked off.

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Ron returned from Hogsmeade with three bags of sweets. Hermione had stayed behind with Harry in the common room, trying her best to cheer him up, but failing miserably as he'd done nothing but stare at the ceiling while she did her homework.

Ron spent nearly an hour regaling Harry and Hermione with the details, all of them old news and none of them the slightest bit of interest to either of them. But towards the end, something did catch Harry's attention.

"...and then McGonagall drank the whole pint! I couldn't believe it. Everyone clapped. Even Snape!"

Hermione caught the detail as well. "Professor Snape was there? Was he chaperoning?"

"No. He was just at the bar, having a drink. I'm surprised you didn't want to go."

"He was at the bar? Alone?" Harry asked. That didn't sound like Severus – going out for drinks.

"Don't know. Why?"

Today was two weeks to the day that Severus had lost his memories. Harry's emotions had been through the ringer, and this was yet another twist of the knife as the strangest thought occurred to him. Severus had ended their relationship. If he so chose, he could be meeting someone for drinks at Hogsmeade this very moment. While Harry didn't actually believe that that was why Severus had been in Hogsmeade, the realization that there was nothing from stopping Severus from satisfying his needs, his sexual needs, was a stab in the heart.

"So listen, Harry," Ron interjected, "about Quidditch. You were just kidding yesterday, right?"

"No. I'm quitting, Ron."

Ron bolted up from the sofa and huffed angrily, "I can't believe you! This is about him again, isn't it? You want to quit so you can spend more time with Snape…"

"Ron, shut up!" Hermione growled.

"That's not it, Ron," Harry said neutrally.

"Tell me what it is then."

Harry took a deep breath and considered whether or not he should tell Ron. Before he'd even thought the matter through, the truth came spilling out of him. Not as it had done with Hermione, when he'd needed to tell her, needed someone to confide in. He just wanted Ron to leave him alone, and he knew that he'd end up having this conversation eventually.

Thinking hard about how he could explain this without violating Severus's privacy, Harry said simply, "Voldemort messed with Severus's mind and so he's forgotten everything."

A moment. "What do you mean everything?"

"He's basically forgotten the last eight months," Harry explained.

"For real?" Ron asked in surprise. A beat. "So he won't remember that I haven't done any of my homework then?"

"Ron, this is serious!" Hermione interjected.

"Okay. I'm just not sure what you expect me to say here. His memory is going to come back, right?"

"Of course it will. But it's been two weeks and I just thought you should know."

"So what does this have to do with you quitting Quidditch?" Ron asked brazenly.

Harry stared at his friend, wondering if he was being deliberately insensitive or simply dense.

Hermione chimed in, "Ron, Professor Snape doesn't remember that he and Harry were ever together. Harry's under a great deal of stress and he needs to take it easy for a while."

"So then you and Snape are not together anymore?"

"Not for right now. He needs time for his memory to come back," Harry replied.

Ron studied his friend carefully and then glanced over at Hermione. After a moment he said. "I get it. Snape dumped you."

"He didn't dump me, Ron," Harry responded indignantly. "He lost his memories."

Ron scoffed in disbelief, and spoke reproachfully, "I warned you this was going to happen."

"Oh, so this is 'I told you so,' is that it?" Harry snapped.

"No, just… I don't get why you're quitting Quidditch because he dumped… I mean because he lost his memories. You can't let him ruin your life, mate. There are plenty of other guys out there."

"I don't want anyone else," Harry responded instinctively, stunned by Ron's obtuseness.

"What is it exactly you want me to say?" Ron asked in frustration.

"Maybe 'I'm sorry,'" Harry began angrily. "Maybe you could express one ounce of sympathy."

"I am sorry," Ron said irately. "I'm sorry he's treating you like shit and you feel bad for him!"

"He's confused. Dumbledore said he's not himself."

"There you go making excuses for him."

"I'm sorry I even told you," Harry said crossly. With that he got up and started up the stairs towards his room.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione called after him, but he did not respond. When Harry was gone, she turned on Ron. "You are an insensitive git. Don't you even care that Harry's in pain?"

"Better now than later."

"What does that mean?"

"It's only been a couple of months. Better that he dumped him now than in a year or two."

"Ron, I don't think you understand."

"No, 'Mione. If I don't understand, then how come I was right? I told you this would happen," Ron said pointedly. "That Snape would break his heart. You didn't listen. You told me that Snape was 'so nice' and 'so good for Harry,'" Ron continued, imitating Hermione's voice. "And you said that I didn't understand him. Who was wrong, eh?"

"Ron, he didn't break up with him. He forgot they ever had a relationship. There's a difference."

"Then why's being such an arse to Harry?"

"Ron, it's complicated," Hermione sighed in resignation.

"No it's not," Ron said vehemently. "Snape's always been an arse and that's how he's acting. There's nothing complicated about that."

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At dinner, Harry made it a point to avoid sitting anywhere near Ron. Hermione was ever faithfully by his side, prodding him to eat.

"Ron's just being a git, Harry. Ignore him."

"I know."

"Here have some bread," Hermione said, offering him a piece slathered in creamy butter, the way he normally liked it.

"I'm not hungry."

She sighed. "I think you should go and see Dumbledore."

"What for? He's got enough to worry about and there's nothing he can do."

"You need someone to talk to."

"I can talk to you."

"Then why won't you?"

"What is there to say?" Harry asked in resignation.

Hermione made sure to catch his eye before saying gently, "As long as you know that I'm here to listen."

Harry's silence fueled Hermione's concern. She watched as he pushed his plate of untouched food away from him. An hour later, she was in the hospital wing.

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"So, Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey asked, "what seems to be the problem?"

"I'm really depressed," Hermione offered matter-of-factly, but quickly realized her error. She would need to do better if she was going to be convincing.

"What's the matter, dear?"

Quickly, Hermione threw her face in her hands and started to sniffle. Refusing to meet Pomfrey's eyes she said in a tentative voice, "I… it's my parents… they… they're getting a divorce."

"Oh. I'm so sorry, my dear. You do know that this isn't your fault?"

Hermione pretended to get control of herself and still look haggard at the same time. "I suppose so. But it's so horrible; they're putting me in the middle and I feel like I can't talk to anyone about it. Ron and Harry just wouldn't understand. I just can't stop thinking about it."

"Is this affecting your school work?"

Hermione panicked for a moment, lest Pomfrey check with her instructors. "Well, it's starting to. I've been pretty good up until now, but I can't focus anymore and I'm not sleeping and I'm barely eating." She tried to recall Harry's other symptoms, then added, "All I want to do is lie in bed by myself in the dark."

"Miss Granger," Pomfrey began seriously, "have you had any thoughts about harming yourself?"

"Uhmm, no, I don't think so," she answered tentatively.

"What do you mean you don't think so?" Pomfrey asked with no small amount of alarm.

"I mean no," Hermione said firmly. "I'll be okay, but I just wondered if you had something I could take… you know for sleep and maybe to get my appetite back. And maybe also something like a Muggle antidepressant?"

"Well let me scan you and we'll see."

"Oh." Hermione was not expecting this. As Pomfrey started running her wand up and down in front of her, she hoped that she wouldn't be discovered.

A minute later, Pomfrey spoke, "I'm not detecting any malnourishment."

"Well, it's only just started. I just found out about the divorce. I know it's going to get much worse. If you knew my parents, you'd understand. They're… crazy."

Pomfrey seemed to deliberate that a moment before relenting. After all, she had no reason to suspect Hermione of lying. "Alright. I'll give you a relaxation potion. Take two drops before you go to bed and another two in the morning. It should help with the sleep and the appetite issues. As for something to calm your mood, I'll ask Professor Snape to brew something for you."

"What? No! You can't tell him!"

"Professor Snape brews all my potions, dear. Don't worry; he won't know whom it's for."

"Oh, okay."

"Miss Granger, I also think you should speak with someone. I can arrange it for you."

"Uhmm, maybe I'll get back to you on that."

An hour later she'd managed to convince Harry to start taking the potion. Initially he was livid at the prospect that she'd gone to Pomfrey about his problems, but as soon as she'd explained her lie, he'd calmed down.

"She said the potion was dosed by weight, so the dosage should be about the same. And she's… ordering something more permanent too." She refrained from calling it an antidepressant and especially from mentioning that it was Snape who would be brewing it. She was just relieved that Harry had finally agreed to take something before his health began to decline further.

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Harry needed a plan; he needed some way to fix this. It had become clear to him that Dumbledore certainly had no idea how to resolve this problem. When Severus had first lost his memory, the Headmaster had said it would be a day or two at most before he recovered his memories. Then two days turned into a few days, and then into a week. Now it was more than two weeks. Exactly how long was this supposed to last?

At this point, Harry didn't care if it meant getting more detentions. He had to try something. Anything was better than this. If he thought being ignored by Snape in Potions was bad, this was agony. Snape had left him alone for barely a minute, badgering him constantly, pointing out his ignorance of the material, and taunting him relentlessly for the amusement of his Slytherins.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, for not paying attention. Don't make me repeat myself again. What is the primary ingredient in sleeping draughts?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Shocking," Snape drawled. "Did you even bother reading the assignment?"

He hadn't even opened the book. "Yes, sir."

"That'll be fifty points for lying to me."

A groan from the Gryffindors. They were not happy with him. He'd single-handedly managed to lose them half the house's points in the last two days alone.

With a gleam so wicked in his eye it was almost perverse, Snape continued, "And in addition I expect an essay on sleeping draughts no less than five sheets of parchment delivered to me by tomorrow's class or it will be a double detention with Filch this Saturday."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered mechanically.

"I suggest you apply yourself, Potter. Judging from your performance this Sunday, I doubt even the Chudley Cannons will be calling you for tryouts," Snape said, pausing for effect as his Slytherins hooted and snickered at the taunt about the Quidditch game. "Dismal as they are, I suspect their standards exceed the limits of even your celebrity," Snape finished, annunciating the last word with excruciating precision, delivering that final cruel kick in the gut.

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At dinner that evening, Professor McGonagall was in a horrible mood. She'd entered the Great Hall late and when she took her seat to the left of the Headmaster, she immediately demanded his attention. "Mr. Potter came to see me today."

Dumbledore could feel Severus tense next to him, and could see that he was clutching his fork very tightly. Interesting, he thought to himself. Even the mere mention of Harry was enough to set him off. Either that, or something else had happened between them in class.

"He told me the most preposterous thing!" McGonagall exclaimed.

Snape dropped his fork.

McGonagall glanced his way and then back at Dumbledore.

"What is it, Minerva?"

"He's quitting the Quidditch team! Can you believe it?"

Dumbledore hazarded a glance to his right and noticed that Severus had resumed eating, with no evidence of his previous tension on his countenance.

"I told him that I would not accept without an explanation. But he refused to give me one. Do you know what is going on, Albus?"

"The faculty meeting is in an hour, Minerva. Finish your dinner and I'll meet you there a bit before. Right now, I have something to take care of."

"Very well."

Instead of leaving the table as McGonagall expected the Headmaster to do, Dumbledore turned his attention to his dessert.

Meanwhile at the Gryffindor table, Hermione was frustrated by the small portion on Harry's plate. She was about to encourage him to have another helping of mashed potatoes when she heard a familiar voice in her mind.

'Excuse the intrusion, Miss Granger, but could I impose on you to meet me in my office in five minutes?'

"Uhmm," Hermione said aloud, glancing up at the Head table.

"Are you alright, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

'You need not say anything, Miss Granger. I can hear your answer.'

"I'm fine," Hermione responded to Ron, disorientated by her unusual conversation with the Headmaster. "I have to go."

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Precisely three minutes later, Hermione was standing before the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. Before she could even wonder what she was supposed to do, the gargoyle swung aside and she stepped forward onto the revolving staircase.

Hermione had never been inside the Headmaster quarters before and found herself caught somewhere between overwhelmed and awed by the whole experience. From the moment she entered, every silver instrument was a joy and thousands of questions sparked in her mind. It was fantastic. As she struggled to stay grounded, the Headmaster's voice summoned her immediately back to earth with the anxiety about why she was here.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Granger. Would you join me in the sitting room?"

She followed him mutely up the dais towards the sitting room and took the proffered seat on the Headmaster's red sofa.

"Would you care for some tea?" Dumbledore asked.

"Thank you, sir."

Barely a moment later, a plate of biscuits appeared in front of her along with a pot of tea. Dumbledore poured for her and asked. "How are you, my dear?"

"I'm fine, sir."

"Hmm, Poppy doesn't seem to think so. She contacted your parents a short while ago." Hermione paled.

"She was very worried about you, and wanted them to be aware of the effect they were having on you." As Hermione struggled for words, Dumbledore continued, "Imagine your parents' surprise when they didn't know they were getting divorced."

"Oh my god," Hermione mumbled, putting her head in her hands.

"She asked me to speak with you right away," Dumbledore said. "She's obviously very concerned."

"I have to talk to my parents, sir," Hermione said urgently. "I have to explain."

"No need, Miss Granger," Dumbledore reassured. "I've already taken the liberty of sending them a message explaining the situation."

Hermione blinked back her shock. "You know?"

"If you mean that I know you were procuring potions for Harry, yes I do," Dumbledore said solemnly.

"Sir, I'm sorry…"

Dumbledore put up his hand to stop her. "There's no need." Heaving a deep breath, Dumbledore said earnestly, "In fact, I am deeply grateful to you, my dear, for looking after him." A pause. "I've asked you here, Hermione," Dumbledore said with sudden deliberate informality, "to inquire about how Harry is coping. It's been nearly a week since he's come to see me."

"I've tried to get him to come and see you, but he refused. He said…" Hermione stopped, suddenly aware that what she was going to say would sound rude.

"Hermione, please, I've asked you here as a friend. Please speak freely."

"He said you couldn't help him."

"To that, I'm afraid, Harry is probably correct." Dumbledore paused, considering how badly this situation was unfolding. Never had he dreamed he would be approaching two and a half weeks with Severus still having not regained his memories. He'd told Harry the truth along the way. He'd felt certain that Severus's mind would readjust quickly. It was no wonder the boy didn't want to see him. He probably felt as though he'd been deliberately misled. If only he knew that Dumbledore was as much in the dark as he. He felt a pang of guilt for not paying closer attention to Harry's health. He'd been so preoccupied with Severus.

"Tell me, is Harry taking the potions you obtained from Madam Pomfrey?"

"For the most part. But it's always a fight."

Dumbledore could see the stress on the girl's face. He leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder and said earnestly, "You're a true friend, Hermione. Harry may be irked with you now, but be assured, one day you will have his gratitude." Hermione smiled meekly. "You have mine now, my dear."

"Thank you, sir."

"I hear from Professor McGonagall that Harry has quit the Quidditch team."

"Yes, sir. He said he didn't care about it anymore. Honestly, after today's class, I can't say I blame him."

"What happened?"

Hermione hesitated but at Dumbledore's reassuring nod, she elaborated on the events in Potions. "It's almost as though Professor Snape is getting more and more antagonistic towards Harry."

"I think that's precisely what's happening. And I'm counting on it, in fact." At her confused expression, he explained, "Think of it this way, my dear. His mood swings are an outward sign of his mind's tumult; his emotions are all over the place as his mind struggles to remember."

"I guess that makes sense," Hermione agreed tentatively.

"Unfortunately, Hermione, nothing about this makes much sense. I'd appreciate it if you could stop by every once in a while and let me know how Harry is doing. And any time you wish to tell me something, just give me a glance during dinner, and I'll know you wish to speak."

"Alright, sir."

"Perhaps the three of you could stop by this weekend for some tea."

"Three?"

"Yes. You, Harry and Mr. Weasley."

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir. Not if we're talking about Professor Snape."

"I take it then that Mr. Weasley is not being supportive?"

"Not really. More like gloating that he knew this would happen."

"I see. Well then it seems, my dear, that Harry will be relying on you more than ever."

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When Dumbledore entered the faculty room, he found his Deputy Headmistress was already waiting for him.

"So what's this all about, Albus?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I can't really say."

"Hmm, I see."

"But I will tell you that Harry is in no danger."

"His grades have been abysmal these past two weeks and he's been truant a few days."

"I am aware of that."

"Have you spoken with him?"

"Yes. And I'm afraid the situation is as it is. Harry is under a great deal of stress and I don't think he is in any condition to continue with Quidditch at the moment. I would accept his resignation and give him some time."

Eyeing the Headmaster carefully, McGonagall knew that he wasn't faring very well either. "Are you alright, Albus?"

"You've been asking me that quite a bit these days."

"And it seems with reason. You don't look well."

"Well, thank you, my dear."

"I'm worried about you," she said seriously.

"I'm fine, Minerva. Just tired."

"You look absolutely exhausted. Are you sleeping?"

No answer.

McGonagall took a step forward and almost reached out to touch Dumbledore, but stopped herself. "Would you like to talk about it?" she asked softly.

Oh yes. If only he could.

"This doesn't have anything to do with Severus, does it?"

"Why would you say that?" Dumbledore asked with interest.

"Well," McGonagall began slowly, carefully considering the question. "He's been acting very strangely."

"How so?"

"He snapped at me the other day."

"And that's strange?"

"It wasn't his usual impatience. This time he was…" she paused trying to decipher what his mood was. "Well, he was sincerely angry."

"At you?" Dumbledore pressed.

"I'm not sure."

Dumbledore was intensely curious. "What were you discussing?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Just going over the rosters."

"Did Mr. Potter come up?"

She thought about it. "Yes, actually. I asked Severus how he was doing in Potions. He completely lost his temper and accused me of making excuses for him. It was very out of character. And it's not just me. The other faculty have been complaining about him more than usual as well. Something's obviously wrong with him, Albus. You should speak with him."

"Unfortunately, I'm not sure that would do much good. He's not been very fond of me lately…"

Minerva shook her head and whispered confidentially. "Don't be silly, Albus. Surely you know by now that Severus worships the ground you walk on. You're his closest friend; he'll listen to you."

Dumbledore's response was cut short by the faculty who'd begun filing in from dinner.

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The faculty meeting went on fairly smoothly, except that Snape seemed to grumble louder than usual when the other faculty spoke, and uncharacteristically, when the Headmaster spoke as well.

Dumbledore was looking through a thick stack of papers before concluding, "And I'm afraid I'm still missing some early term reports, from Filius, Septima and Severus, I think."

"I sent it to you yesterday," Snape interjected.

"Oh, yes, that's right," Dumbledore realized. "Sorry about that."

"Who's got the memory problem now?" Snape mumbled.

Dumbledore pretended to not have heard the comment and continued normally, "Well, that's all from me. Are there any matters anyone else would like to discuss?"

Flitwick cleared his throat and began in his high pitched voice. "I'd like to voice my concern about Mr. Potter. His performance has been dreadful of late."

"Isn't it always?" Snape muttered, this time not too quietly.

Dumbledore once again ignored the commentary.

There was a minute's more discussion of Harry in which all the faculty agreed on his deteriorating performance.

"Rest assured," Dumbledore said, "I've discussed this situation with Harry in person. And I would ask for your patience as Mr. Potter deals with some difficult personal issues."

"So now we're making exceptions for him?" Snape snapped.

"I never said that, Severus. I believe we've had similar conversations regarding other students as well."

"Should we allow him to make up his missed assignments, Headmaster?" Flitwick asked.

"In fairness, I think that decision needs to be left up to each of you, but if you want my opinion—"

"We don't."

The staff gasped, almost as a collective whole. A reproachful, 'Severus!' came from Minerva's direction and Vector and Flitwick whispered something to each other.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said firmly, his tone demanding silence. "My advice would be to give him a week's time to make up his missed assignments so he can catch up. Now, if that's all, maybe we should call it a night. Professor Snape, please stay a moment."

The faculty exited promptly, murmuring to each other. Only when the door was closed did Dumbledore speak.

"That was very unprofessional of you, Severus. And I'd ask you not to speak to me in that manner in front of the faculty again."

Dumbledore could see the anger swell in Severus's eyes and for a moment he was sure that Severus was going to lash out at him. But then just as suddenly his demeanor changed. "I'm sorry, Albus," Snape said sincerely, his expression contrite and confused. "I don't know what came over me."

"Are you feeling unwell?"

Snape shook his head vehemently. "No. I just… I just can't stand Potter. He's driving me crazy."

"Perhaps we should talk about this in my office."

"There's nothing to talk about. I've told you that."

"Don't you think the fact that the mere mention of him in a faculty meeting causes you to snap means that there is something to talk about?"

"It won't happen again, Albus."

"I heard there was some commotion in class today."

"I cannot believe he told you that," Snape shouted. "That boy is insufferable…"

"He didn't say a word to me. Believe it or not, there are very few secrets in this castle."

Snape seemed not to hear Dumbledore at all. "It's going to be another two weeks with Filch for him! I can't have him questioning my authority at every turn."

"Severus! Listen to me. I didn't speak with Harry." When Severus shook his head in disbelief, Dumbledore continued. "And I think the past week with Argus has already been quite enough. He should not have any more, and certainly not without a reason."

"You're always standing up for him!" Snape snapped, continuing with his rant oblivious to Dumbledore's words.

Dumbledore watched and absorbed it all with great interest. He could see the roller coaster that was Severus's mind, unfolding before him without any prodding. Severus was out of control of his shields and as they slipped, Dumbledore could feel the tumult of emotions radiating out from him. His mind was fighting itself and even though this spelled turmoil for Severus, Dumbledore knew that this war within his own psyche was a step in the right direction. Dumbledore only hoped that the right part would win.

"Severus, please calm down. Just listen to yourself. This isn't like you."

"You mean because I'm not deferring to everything you say?" Snape snapped. "This is who I am, Albus. Get used to it. I'm not going to stand by anymore and not speak my mind." With that, he stormed out in a billow of black robes.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, his head hanging down on his chest. Severus was spiraling out of control and it seemed there was little he could do but watch it happen.

He felt something touch his arm and when he looked up, Minerva was standing before him, a look of concern permeating his face.

"Are you alright, Albus?"

"I'm fine, Minerva."

"You're not fine, Albus. I heard Severus shouting. What on earth is going on with him?" she asked angrily.

"I can't… It would be compromising his privacy to say."

"And why protect it when he's clearly hurting you?"

A sigh. "Thank you, Minerva for your support."

McGonagall turned to leave but after a moment's hesitation reconsidered. "Could you maybe use some company this evening, Albus?"

A beat. "That would be delightful, my dear."

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Students and faculty alike looked on in stunned silence as Professor Snape dragged a dazed looking Harry Potter by his collar down the corridor. The pair were moving with incredible speed, so much so that it almost seemed that Harry's feet were barely touching the stone floor.

Harry knew he was in serious trouble, but he could barely bring himself to be concerned. At least he'd gotten Severus's attention, albeit not in the way he'd hoped.

After another two hours of dealing with Professor Snape's taunts, he was desperate. He realized that if Dumbledore hadn't done anything drastic by now, he wasn't going to. And that meant it was up to him. So after class had ended just minutes before, he'd waited patiently for all the students to leave. With his rudimentary Legilimency, he formed a connection with Severus and sent him a memory. It was of the last time they'd made love. The pair of them, head to toe on their woolen hearth rug, each giving and receiving pleasure simultaneously.

It was one of his favorite memories.

Apparently, Professor Snape didn't find it so appealing.

Snape dragged Harry into the Headmaster's quarters. Once they made it into Dumbledore's office, Snape released Harry so abruptly, he staggered forward, struggling to find his footing.

"I demand you expel this disgusting little wretch this instant, Headmaster!"

Dumbledore took in the pair before him. Harry wore an expression of utter defeat and Severus looked positively murderous.

"Harry, would you please excuse us?"

A spark of life in Harry's eyes as his own anger flared. "No! I'm not going anywhere until you fix this! You lied to me. You promised everything was going to be alright!"

"Apologize this instant, Potter," Snape shouted. "How dare you disrespect the Headmaster that way?!"

"Severus, please, it's quite all right."

"It's not bloody alright," Snape snapped. "He's an insolent little arse."

"Oh, and you're the modicum of politeness," Harry retaliated, half-stunned by his own bravado.

Snape moved so fast, neither Harry nor the Headmaster saw it. Without warning, he had both his hands on the back of Harry's collar and pushed him forward up the dais towards Dumbledore's desk.

"I said apologize!" A second later Snape twisted the collar sharply, such that Harry was forced on his tiptoes to catch a breath.

"Severus!"

Snape wasn't listening and forcefully shoved Harry face first down against the hard wooden desk, his body impacting with a heavy thud and a gasp from the young man.

"Apologize, you little twit!" Snape demanded.

"Severus, unhand him this instant!!"

Snape did not comply and instead increased the pressure against Harry's collar. In a split second, Snape found himself across the room lying prostrate on the floor. Momentarily disorientated, it took him a moment to rise to his feet. When he looked up at Dumbledore, the elder wizard's icy tone made it clear he was to comply. "Severus, wait for me in my study."

A moment later a silencing charm assured their privacy and Dumbledore turned his attentions to the visibly shaken young man in front of him.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Harry was somewhat stunned but otherwise no worse for the wear. "I'm fine."

"I should tell you that it is within your right to file a complaint against Professor Snape. He should not have put his hands on you."

"It's fine."

"Rest assured, I will speak with him. What on earth precipitated this?"

Harry flushed bright red at the memory of what he'd done, and the prospect of explaining it to Dumbledore was not a pleasant one. But before he could consider how to phrase it, Dumbledore put his hand up and spared him the trouble.

"It's alright, my boy. You need not say. I can guess." Harry's embarrassment coupled with Severus's mental frailty was enough for him to deduce what had happened.

Exhausted, Harry took a seat opposite the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore pulled up a chair next to Harry.

"I spoke with Miss Granger yesterday. She's indicated to me that you are not taking care of yourself, my boy."

"What's the point?" Harry asked solemnly.

Dumbledore waited until Harry met his eyes before saying, "Harry, I know you are under immeasurable stress right now. But you can't give up. That's the very last thing Severus would want you to do."

Maybe at one time, Harry considered to himself. Now it was apparent Severus didn't care – more than that, now he was hated. He considered what had just happened a moment before. Severus's aggression towards him had been shocking, something he never would have expected. His eyes prickled with tears and he struggled to speak without showing his emotion. "What is wrong with him?"

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh, taking a moment to formulate his response. "Severus's reactions to you are a coping mechanism of sorts. His mind is warring so hard against itself, against all the memories, of you, of all his past traumas with Voldemort, it's pouring out all of his old hate in an uncontrolled way." A pause. "It's very possible that all these mood changes are a sign that he's closer to a breakthrough."

"So the part that hates me is coming out to cover up the part that loves me, is that it?"

"That's perhaps the most straightforward rendering I could have come up with myself, yes."

"And you think this is a good sign?"

"Yes." Even as he said it, Dumbledore's insides squirmed. The truth was, he wasn't nearly as sure of himself as he was expressing to Harry. His best guess was that Severus's mind was rebelling against the memories. But there was a second, more concerning possibility. That this was not rebellion, but adaptation, his mind's way of developing a new personality, overlaying new thoughts and emotions so as to bury everything else deep within him. It was impossible to know the outcome. If anyone's mind was too complex to predict, it was Severus's.

"It's been over two weeks. How much longer before… before it's too late for it to get better?"

Dumbledore blinked back surprise at the astuteness of Harry's question. "There's no way to say for certain," Dumbledore replied tentatively.

"Forget what's for certain," Harry snapped. "Please just tell me the truth," Harry implored, his patience thinning.

Dumbledore studied the young man in front of him and realized he deserved that much, however painful the truth was. "Every day this goes on, Harry, the more difficult it will become for Severus to retrieve his memories."

"And how long is too long?"

"Every case is individual." Before Harry could interrupt with frustration, Dumbledore added, "I'm telling you the truth, my boy. I'm only guessing here. This is not an exact science. But based on what I've read and what I know about the mind, I would estimate that we have about another two weeks before we begin to worry."

Harry translated the Dumbledore speak in his mind. 'Begin to worry.' He knew what that meant. If in two weeks Severus hadn't gotten better, his life was over.

"And you think that he'll get his memories back before then? That he's going to be okay?"

"Judging by his drastic mood swings and his increased animosity to you over the past few days alone, I believe so."

"Good, because I don't know if I can take much more of this," Harry admitted, embarrassed by expressing the selfish thought.

"I know dealing with Severus is not easy right now, but will you permit me to give you some advice?"

Harry almost chuckled at that; he knew exactly what Dumbledore was going to say. "You want me to leave him alone."

Dumbledore's stroked his beard for a moment and replied, "Essentially yes. I know what you've been trying to do Harry, to remind Severus of your time together. But perhaps instead, you should try and remind him why he fell in love with you in the first place."

Harry's interest perked and he was suddenly keen to hear the rest. "How do I do that?"

"Be yourself, but keep your distance. Be a good student, polite and conscientious. Study hard and you won't give him the chance to insult your intelligence if you're current with your assignments."

Irritated by what he perceived as futile advice, Harry scoffed, "What's that got to do with anything?"

Dumbledore leaned forward and did his best to convey his sincerity. "Severus was extremely proud of your improved grades and diligence in your classes, Harry." At the disbelieving expression on the young man's face, Dumbledore continued, "He told me so himself. Many times. He practically beamed when he spoke about it. I know it's not much, but demonstrating some increased level of maturity with Severus would certainly not hurt matters. He's looking for a reason, any reason, to antagonize you. Don't let him find it. Don't let him provoke you."

Harry's heart wanted to argue, but he stopped himself. Maybe Dumbledore was right. After all, it had been his interference early on that had pushed Severus into the mental breakdown. And his most recent stunt had only prompted Severus to react more violently than ever before. Maybe keeping a low profile was exactly the right thing to do.

"And you think that will help?" Harry asked somewhat skeptically.

Dumbledore paused a long moment as he contemplated his next words to Harry. He'd originally planned not to speak of it, but given Harry's inclination at radical measures, he felt it best to be honest with the young man. "Harry… I don't know how to say this kindly, so I'll just say it." A beat. "Severus's behavior with you a few minutes ago cannot be excused by anything you might have done. You understand that?" Dumbledore waited for Harry to nod before continuing, "However, forcing a memory into someone's mind, even if they were your lover, is a violation of sorts."

Harry felt himself grow hot all over as the meaning of Dumbledore's words dawned on him. He hadn't thought of it in those terms before. A violation. He tried to speak, to apologize, but his throat constricted.

Dumbledore leaned forward and grabbed hold of Harry's arm, extending comfort.

"I'm sorry," Harry choked out, dropping his head to his chest.

Dumbledore lifted Harry's chin and forced him to meet his gaze. "Harry, listen to me, you didn't know. And I tell you this not to make you feel uncomfortable or guilty, but so that you will know for the future. I know you won't do that again," Dumbledore said gently.

Taking in Harry's dejected form, Dumbledore stood and opened his arms. Harry took a step forward and gratefully accepted the hug. "I'm sorry, sir."

"No more apologies. But you can do something for me, my boy."

When Harry looked up expectantly, Dumbledore said, "Take care of yourself and take the potions Miss Granger procured for you. I'll not have you getting sick as well."

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After Harry's departure from his quarters, Dumbledore waited exactly one minute before he lifted the silencing charm and entered his study.

Snape was on his feet in an instant and started back into his rant as though there had never been a twenty minute interruption. "I know what you're going to say, and quite frankly I don't want to hear—"

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore interrupted firmly, "with all due disrespect, shut up and sit down."

That got Snape's attention and flustered him enough that he obeyed without argument.

"I don't know what you were thinking," Dumbledore began seriously and with a good measure of ire. "I hope to Merlin that you weren't thinking, because I am absolutely stunned by your behavior back there." Snape opened his mouth to interrupt, but Dumbledore's hand was up in an instant, icy authority radiating him from. "Whatever may be going on with you, you will not under any circumstances manhandle the students. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but—"

"Consider carefully what you're about to say, Severus."

"Am I at least allowed to defend myself here?" Snape asked in frustration.

"As long as it is understood that there is no excusing what you just did, then by all means."

Snape took a breath and tried to muster up some level of sincere explanation. "Albus, you know I would never… I've never done that to a student. But this is Potter…"

"And that makes it alright?"

"His immaturity is—"

"His immaturity?" Dumbledore asked in astonishment. "You believe you've been acting maturely?"

"If you knew what he did—"

"I don't care what he did," Dumbledore said with firm displeasure. "I expect to never see such behavior from you again, or I will put it in your record. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes," Snape huffed ill-temperedly. "Now may I finally explain what happened?" At Dumbledore's nod, Snape started back into his rant. "Class ended and he waltzed right up to me and forced a memory into my mind. Forced! He didn't say a word, just stuck this horrid thing in there. It was abominable!" Snape shouted. "If you had seen it, you might have reacted the same way."

Dumbledore paused to take a seat directly opposite Severus. He carefully posed his next question. "By your reaction, am to take it that this was a sexual memory of the two of you?"

A moment before Snape answered with a reluctant, "Yes," before continuing, "And it was very very graphic. I was horrified. The boy should be expelled!"

"Harry's actions were completely inappropriate. And I expressed that to him. But expelling him is ridiculous given the circumstances and given your actions back there, I'd say you're lucky he didn't file a formal complaint. Let it go."

"Are you serious?" Snape asked incredulously. "That's it?"

"For all intents and purposes, Harry is dealing with the loss of a loved one." Snape snickered mockingly, but Dumbledore continued, "Tell me, why is it that you're so short-tempered?"

"Are you joking? He just assaulted me!"

"Forget this incident. You've been taunting him all week. Don't think that hadn't gotten back to me. And for what purpose?"

"What's your point?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Your behavior has changed. If you can't see that…"

"I'm reacting to his stunts!" Snape threw his hands in the air. "I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall here," Snape muttered before speaking his next sentence so slowly it was dripping with condescension. "Why am I reacting to him? Maybe because… he… forced… a memory… into… my mind!"

Dumbledore ignored the tone and asked, "And how did that memory make you feel?" He knew it was a long shot, but if he could get Severus to answer, perhaps he could gain better insight into how his mind was processing that memory.

"What?"

"You said you were violated. Understood. What else did you feel?"

Snape stared at Dumbledore as though he'd lost his head. "Are you serious? How the fuck do you think it made me feel? Will you stop this psycho-babble bullshit?"

"Just tell me if it triggered any residual memories. Any feelings?"

Snape's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "You're asking me if I…" he stopped. "… if I enjoyed it?" Snape snorted and then almost went into hysterics with laughter. "You really think Potter putting that one memory in my head is going to make me change my mind and decide I want him? That I'll suddenly start secretly pinning for him. You're more deluded than he!"

"That's not what I said, Severus… I simply—"

"This conversation is over. Goodnight, Headmaster."

Snape was out the door before Dumbledore could say another word.

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Snape's ire intensified with every step his took down the long corridor towards the dungeons. By the time he made it back to his quarters, he was in desperate need of a drink. Going to his liquor cupboard, he realized he was out of scotch, and made his way to his bookshelf where he kept his good bottle.

On the side table, he noticed Potter's journal. Snape poured himself a drink and walked over towards it, staring at it for a long moment before finally picking up the leather bound volume.

The memory Harry Potter had placed in his head came to him then. The image of himself having sex with Potter felt so alien in his mind, he felt that it couldn't be real, and yet he knew it had been. He wondered for half a second who that man was that had chosen a relationship with that young man. And as the memory permeated his consciousness, Dumbledore's question came to him. How did it make him feel?

Considering the question carefully, only one emotion came to mind. Here was Dumbledore's unambiguous answer.

With a flick of the wrist, he tossed the volume into his fireplace, watching with calm certitude as the journal went up in flames.

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Author's note: Thank you everyone for your tremendous support of this story, particulary given last chapter's delay. I tried to make it up to you with a quick update this time and it seems that I'm one-upping my own chapter length – this was originally intended as two chapters but I think it worked better as one so there it is. I hope it ended up being overwhelming as intended, and I hope more in a good way than bad.

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

I look forward to your comments on this chapter.