In Memory's Wake Chapter 18: I'm done, 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 18: I'm done

April dawned colder than ever. And it seemed, to Harry's misfortune, that this was also a suitable metaphor for his life. It had been almost five weeks since Severus had lost his memories – far too long, even by Dumbledore's standards. The last time he'd spoken to the Headmaster, Dumbledore had told him they had another two weeks before they should worry. Well, more than the requisite two weeks had passed and Harry knew well enough what that meant, although he wasn't yet ready to admit it to himself.

Reaching into his trunk, Harry pulled out a piece of folded parchment stashed in a secret compartment. This had become a bedtime ritual of his; he'd watch Severus on the Marauder's Map for an hour every night. It was really pathetic, he knew, but this was his only remaining connection with the love of his life.

He'd taken Dumbledore's advice and over the past three weeks he'd applied himself vigorously to his studies. Nearly all his free time every evening was spent studying with Hermione. It drove Ron past the point of exasperation, but it was all worth it that first time he'd answered Professor's Snape's interrogation about the assignment. The look of surprise on the Professor's face was a small triumph, although of course Snape had said nothing in response.

With the exception of this hour every evening where he indulged with his map, he had had no significant interactions with Severus for weeks now. That was not to say that staring at the man's footprints could be termed an 'interaction' of any sort, but it was better than nothing. In class, he was being consistently ignored. As soon as he'd heeded Dumbledore's advice about leaving Severus alone, he'd received the same treatment in kind. Apparently the elder wizard had been right – Severus had been looking for a reason to antagonize him and in its absence, all was quiet. Given Snape's previous hostility toward him, Harry had thought that being ignored would be a welcome change. It was not.

Harry turned his attention back to the map. He observed two sets of miniature black footprints moving about the parchment from Dumbledore's office to his sitting room. McGonagall was there with him. Harry had noticed that she seemed to be there an awful lot these days. Perhaps they were together, Harry mused. Where once he might have found the notion gross, now it only engendered envy. Dumbledore had someone. He had no one.

Flipping the parchment over, he did not find Severus anywhere in his quarters. Harry scanned the lab, the corridors, and then the Slytherin common room; still no luck. He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was past nine o'clock, a little late for Severus to be out of the castle, even for a Saturday.

"Are you looking at that damn thing again?" Ron asked, entering the room.

Harry scowled in his friend's direction and said nothing.

"That's just sad, mate."

"Just shut up, Ron," Harry said, incensed by the constant battle things had become with his friend.

"Not until you put that thing away."

When Harry did not comply, Ron snatched the parchment. Harry was on his feet in an instant, lunging forward to try and reclaim the map.

"Give it back!"

"No."

"Stop being an arse…"

"You first!"

Harry gave Ron a shove and went for the map again, but Ron managed to switch it to the other hand.

"Damn it, Ron, just leave me alone!"

"You look at that damn thing every night," Ron snapped. "As if he'll know and change his mind and love you again."

Before he was even aware of it, Harry felt his fist connect with Ron's right eye.

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Not fifteen minutes later, both Harry and Ron found themselves in McGonagall's office. Their Head of House did not look amused, but neither would explain what had happened.

"What I want to know," Ron said irately, "is what Gryffindor fink called you, Professor?"

"That is not of your concern. Mr. Potter, did you assault Mr. Weasley?"

Ron did not give Harry the chance to speak, interrupting, "No, he didn't. I told you this already. Nobody punched anybody. I ran into a door."

"You ran into a door?" McGonagall repeated, clearly unimpressed. "Mr. Potter, is that what happened?"

"If that's what Ron said happened, then that's what happened," Harry said flatly.

"First your grades, then the Quidditch team, and now this. What is going on with you, Mr. Potter?"

"Nothing."

"Perhaps you would prefer to speak with the Headmaster."

"Fine."

That surprised McGonagall. Most students confessed everything upon threat of having to see Dumbledore. She supposed that meant Albus was already aware of Harry's situation. Not wanting to burden Albus's schedule any further, she said, "Very well then. I'll check the Headmaster's schedule and let you know. In the meantime, no more violence of any kind or our next conversation will be in the Headmaster's office."

On the walk back to the dormitory, Harry considered his actions. Remembering how upset he'd been by Severus's rough treatment of him two weeks ago, he felt the urge to apologize to his friend.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said. "I shouldn't have hit you."

Ron stopped dead in his tracks. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I've been an arse. I'm just… I'm just worried about you, mate. Sometimes all I can think about is killing Snape for what he's done to you."

"Yeah, I know. Me too," Harry replied to Ron's surprise.

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Dumbledore was terrified out of his mind. He'd been pacing around his office for the past few hours now, shortly after he'd received that note from Severus. He could not quite fathom the fact that Severus had left… just like that. They had spoken about this extensively. He'd been clear and Severus had agreed: if he was called by Voldemort, he was not to respond. Without access to all of his memories, it posed too grave a risk.

There were so many possibilities that would end in tragedy. One question or one reference about previous events was all it would take. Severus might be a skilled Occlumens, but evasion and misdirection were the talents that he depended on. If Voldemort suspected something was amiss and demanded an answer that Severus could not provide, no amount of evasion would be able to prevent the inevitable.

Why on earth had Severus responded to that summons? More than that, Dumbledore knew he'd done it deliberately. Instead of sending the note from his quarters as he usually did, he'd sent it from the edge of the castle wards, giving Dumbledore no time in stopping him from apparating away. By the time he'd received the missive, Severus was already gone.

The past three hours of stomach-wrenching anxiety ended in the blink of an eye as Dumbledore sensed the moving stairway to his quarters activate and knew instantly it was Severus.

As the door to his quarters opened, Dumbledore's relief bloomed into anger as he came to understand the answer to why Severus had gone. The younger wizard's smug expression said it all. He'd done it because he could. He'd done it to show Dumbledore that he had no control over him.

"You seem very satisfied with yourself."

Snape returned the statement with a harsh glare and an annoyed, "I don't know what you mean."

"Did we or did we not discuss you not heeding any summons until your memory has returned?"

"I don't remember a discussion actually," Snape said tersely. "I remember you telling me what to do."

"If Voldemort had made reference to any of the events you've blocked from your memory―"

"Why don't you just tell me what these things are then?" Snape snapped. "It would save all this trouble."

"Is this your way of forcing me to tell you?" When Snape did not respond, Dumbledore continued, "I haven't told you because there is a reason you do not remember. Your mind needs time to heal and come to remember these things on its own time. When you had these memories, you were unable to deal with them." Snape looked visibly bored by all this and Dumbledore tried to get his attention. "Severus, you could have been killed tonight."

Snape waved his hand dismissively. "Obviously I wasn't."

"Do you have any idea of what you've just put me through?"

No response.

"You have never shown such flagrant disregard for my instructions before."

"It's my life," Snape replied petulantly.

Dumbledore stared at his friend in disbelief. It was as though the wise mature man he'd known had morphed into an immature rebellious teenager.

"It is your life, Severus, but it's my responsibility to protect it." A pause. "More so, it seems as you are clearly not well."

"I'm fine."

"Why did you go tonight?"

"That's a stupid question."

"Did you fully understand the risk you were taking?"

"Yes."

"And you went anyway. To me that suggests an almost callous disregard for your well-being."

Snape studied the elder wizard a moment before asking heatedly, "Are you suggesting that I'm suicidal?"

Dumbledore did not answer but spoke insistently. "You are not to go back there if you are called again. Is that understood?"

Snape glared at Dumbledore and said, "It's not your business to dictate what I do."

"Actually it is. Last time I checked, Severus, I am still your boss."

A pause. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime if the Dark Lord calls? Ignore him?"

"Yes, just as we'd discussed. You can relay it through one of your contacts that I'm keeping a close eye on you. That should delay him in the short-term."

"And after that? Then what?" Snape pressed forcefully.

When Dumbledore said nothing, Snape continued, "I'm not getting my memories back if that's what you're thinking."

Dumbledore considered Severus's words carefully and asked, "Why would you say that, Severus?"

"It's been over a month. Even you must have figured it out by now. I'm not going to remember and thank Merlin for that! And before you tell me I'm not myself, maybe you should ask yourself why I haven't remembered. I was clearly not well to have been with Potter."

"Severus―"

"No. Leave it alone. I've had enough talk about this, Headmaster."

"Will you at least stay for a cup of tea?"

"I may not be able to help the fact that you are my boss, Headmaster, but last I checked," Snape said with a sneer, "I can still choose whose company I keep in my own time. Goodnight."

Dumbledore wasn't sure how long he was standing there, staring into space. At some point Minerva had come into the room and had begun chatting with him about something or other. He managed to nod every so often, but his mind was not on her words. Severus was more far-gone than he'd ever imagined. Two weeks ago he'd told Harry that now was around the time they needed to start worrying that Severus might never regain his memories. Truth be told, Dumbledore had never envisioned Severus's mental block could last so long. More than that, the traumas he'd suffered had brought on what seemed like an entirely alien personality in his friend.

Over the past few weeks, he'd tried many times unsuccessfully to get through to Severus, but it seemed at though his attempts were all but futile now. Severus wouldn't engage him. More than that, he was completely ignoring his instructions regarding his own safety.

Throughout their conversation tonight, Dumbledore had carefully been reading Severus's demeanor and prodding his mental walls. He'd been surprised to find none of the instability or signs of illness he'd seen there some weeks before. If anything, Severus appeared healthier mentally than he had in a very long time, and this did not bode well for a change. His mind had clearly done a superb job at protecting him from all that had happened. But the cost of Severus's sanity was apparently laid at his and Harry's feet.

"Are you even listening to me, Albus?"

Dumbledore met McGonagall's eyes for the first time. "No, my dear, I'm very sorry."

McGonagall starting saying something once more, something about Severus and offering to hear out his troubles. But he couldn't imagine telling her what he was afraid to admit to himself – that he was losing his best friend and he was powerless to stop it.

"I've got to go, Minerva. Excuse me."

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Elphias Doge was not a man who was unaccustomed to surprises. In his role as Special Advisor to the Wizengamot and Liaison to the Ministry of Magic Internal Affairs, he experienced his fair share of surprises on what seemed like a daily basis. And over the years, his secret work as a member of the Order of the Phoenix did not leave his life short of shocking events either.

But even he had to admit to being taken aback by what he saw upon entering the Leaky Cauldron this evening. He'd had a meeting in London, and given how late it had run, had decided to use the Floo at the bar instead of finding a safe spot to Apparate home. His first clue something was wrong came when he caught Tom the barman's eye and was greeted with a concerned look and a nod towards the corner.

To his great surprise, there he saw none other than Albus Dumbledore, his friend of many years, drunk.

Elphias made his way to the bar. "Good evening, Tom."

"Hey, Doge. What'll it be?" Tom asked in his usual loud voice.

Doge pretended to consider while Tom dropped his voice to a whisper. "I stopped serving him an hour ago, but he keeps refilling his own glass."

Before he could decide what to do, the entrance from Diagon Alley swung open. And of al the people to come in at that very moment, it had to be Rita Skeeter! It took her no time to spot Dumbledore and her green quill was out in an instant, hovering beside her.

"What do we have here? The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry out alone in a bar late at night and apparently too drunk to hold his head up off the table."

"Excuse me, madam," Elphias interrupted sharply from behind, his presence startling the reporter. "The Headmaster is not drunk, and he is most certainly not alone. He's been waiting for me. Albus, I'm dreadfully late… it seems I caught you dozing off I've been so long!"

When Rita Skeeter turned around, she found that Dumbledore was indeed wide awake, sitting up normally. She was too dumbfounded to speak, but Elphias motioned her aside. "If you'll excuse me, we have a meeting. Goodnight."

It took Skeeter a moment, but eventually she left the table, taking a seat across the bar, muttering 'dogbreath' as she did.

"So sorry about the wake up charm, Albus," Doge whispered, "but I didn't have much choice there. Skeeter never passes up an opportunity to attack someone's character, least of all yours. Count your lucky stars I didn't have to resort to a sobering charm; they leave the most horrendous headache I've found," Doge said with a smile, taking his seat across from the Headmaster.

"Elphias, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was coming in to use the Floo; I had a late meeting with the Muggle Ambassador. The better question is what are you doing here? Are you alright?"

"No, not really. Care for a glass of mead?" Dumbledore asked, pouring himself another and one for Elphias.

"Perhaps we should have some water instead."

As if on cue, Tom was there. "I brought some water for both of you. Lucky break there about Skeeter. That woman's a monster."

Once Tom had left, Elphias spoke. "I'm surprised to find you here, Albus. I can't remember the last time we ran into each other like this," he said. "We always seem to pass each other in the Ministry or at the Wizengamot assemblies and never have a chance to talk."

"That's true," Dumbledore mused, half-absorbed in the glass of mead. "Why is that? We should see each other socially. You should come over for tea sometime."

Doge appeared flustered for a moment before replying softly, "That is a very kind invitation, Albus. But you're a very busy man, with too many important things to worry over without having an old man like me over for tea."

"I may be drunk, Elphias, but my memory is not gone. We're the same age."

"In years, perhaps, but not in spirit. So tell me, what's going on? I've never known you to frequent bars and drink alone."

Perhaps it was all the mead, or maybe it was the need to open up to someone, but Dumbledore felt comfortable confiding at least part of his turmoil with his friend.

"I've lost someone close to me."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Did they pass away?"

"No. They're just… not themselves anymore."

Doge hesitated but asked, "Is this person a friend or… something more, if you don't mind my asking?"

"A friend. At least they used to be. My best friend. Not anymore I guess." Dumbledore refilled his glass of mead much to Doge's displeasure.

"I see. Well then I think I know about whom we're speaking."

"You do?"

"Yes. If I'm not mistaken, this person is like a son to you, correct?"

"Yes, how did you know that?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.

"My, you really are drunk, aren't you?" Doge asked rhetorically, amused by Dumbledore's diminished capacity. "It's not very difficult to figure out." A pause. "As you know, Albus, I have two sons. Of course they are all grown up now, but I can't tell you how many times we fought. And there were many times where it seemed as though we'd never reconcile. Sometimes people lose their way and they say hurtful things. Your relationship with this person has seen too much to be permanently damaged by whatever this one problem is. It will survive, I'm sure of it."

"I hope you're right."

"In the meantime, stay out of bars, old friend, all right?" Doge's eyes turned sharply towards the door as Rita Skeeter reentered the bar, her gaze intent on the two of them. "Ah, Skeeter's back, just as I suspected. Don't worry, I asked Tom to call Minerva and she should be here any second to help you back to Hogwarts."

Not a minute later, the deputy headmistress had arrived at their table.

"Goodnight, Albus, Minerva."

But before he could leave, Dumbledore grabbed Doge's shoulder and said, "Thank you, Elphy. Here you are, saving me from myself yet again, dear friend."

Doge nodded his goodbye right before approaching Skeeter, distracting her attention enough so that Albus and Minerva could make it through the Floo unnoticed. Wistfully, Doge thought of the response he wished he could have given Albus Dumbledore.

'I never saved you from anything, Albus. You're the one who saved us all.'

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Harry tried to contain himself but he could barely sit still in Potions. Another Monday and another horrendous start to the week. He'd spent the entire weekend working intently on the assignment Professor Snape had given them and felt confident he had the best, save perhaps Hermione's. Snape had glanced at it, and while commenting on others' performance, he had said nothing to him.

Their assignment in class had been to brew the anti-nausea potion they'd written about. Harry had put every ounce of his efforts into it. As Snape examined each students' work, he made brief comments: Hermione's "acceptable," Parkinson's "drivel," and Ron's, "why do you even bother, Mr. Weasley?"

Now his. Snape looked at the vial for a split second and after his eyes drifted up to see whom it belonged to, he moved on to the next person, neither picking up the vial nor saying a single word to Harry. That was the final straw. He would not be ignored any longer.

"Excuse me, Professor. You didn't say anything about my potion."

A sideways glare. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Potter," Snape said coldly, and immediately turned his attention to Patil's vial.

Harry was livid and he was not going to play this game anymore. He didn't care what Dumbledore said. He existed, damn it!

"Professor, I would appreciate it if you at least took at look at it."

"Oh you would, would you?" Snape asked, eyebrows up.

Hermione was elbowing him and half the class was stunned by Harry's audacity.

"Yes, sir," Harry pressed.

"I'm not interested in what you want, Potter. I should think that that would have been obvious to you by now," Snape said significantly.

Snape stalked away and Harry was left feeling miserable as usual. The past two weeks of encounters with Professor Snape flashed before his eyes. Nothing. There was nothing. Barely a glance, barely a word. That had now just been their longest conversation since he'd begun giving Severus the space Dumbledore had asked of him. This was not what he'd been hoping for. Was this what the future held for him? His memories of Severus reduced to an unreturned hello. Hell, he'd rather be yelled at than treated like a piece of lint. Dumbledore had told him that limiting contact might help, that his pouring himself into his studies might do the same, might remind Severus of why he'd fallen in love with him in the first place. But he'd also said that if Severus hadn't regained his memories by now, it was not a good sign. Subconsciously, Harry was beginning to realize that his chances of getting Severus back were dwindling.

The thought was a paralyzing one and he instinctively needed to do something, anything at all to try and at least rectify his friendship with Severus.

As Snape made his way to the front of the class and began lecturing, Harry furtively wrote a short note and rolled up the scroll tightly. He waited for just the right moment, when Snape was looking right at him, to pass the note to Hermione.

He'd done this many times before. It had been their secret way of Harry giving notes to Severus unnoticed. Harry wondered briefly if Severus would remember.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, hands on the desk." Snape stalked forward and grabbed the note from Hermione's hand. He unrolled the scroll and read its contents: 'Can I see you for five minutes later, sir? Please. I miss you.'

Snape stared at the note for a solid minute, his face impassive, as he processed the contents of the note. Finally, he met Harry's gaze. A sudden dark gleam entered his eyes and he began mockingly, "What's this? A love note for Granger… how touching, Potter."

Harry's eyes widened to the size of saucers. There was no way Snape could have construed the note that way. "That's not what it is!"

"Oh really?" Snape asked, his voice dripping with condescension. "Since you feel so bold as to send notes in the middle of my class, perhaps I should read this aloud? Would that finally teach you a lesson?"

The question was rhetorical, but the Slytherins responded anyway, eagerly cheering for their Head of House to read the note. And Snape pretended to reluctantly comply.

"'So sorry about last night, pumpkin,' – dear Merlin, is that what you call her? – 'I didn't mean to disappoint you...'"

"That is not what that says!" Harry shouted, bolting up from his seat.

"You dare contradict me?" Snape snapped harshly, his face uncharacteristically red with anger. "Sit down! If you don't want the contents known to others, you should not be passing notes."

"'Sorry I couldn't dot dot dot, you know,'" Snape fabricated, smirking evilly. "Hmm, I can't imagine what that might mean," he continued sardonically. Eyeing the note once more, he invented more. 'Maybe you could brew a potion to help me with that problem for next time.'"

The Slytherins were over the moon, howling with laughter. Malfoy was in hysterics. Harry knew instantly he would never live this down. He looked over at Hermione, whose face had turned a shade of bright crimson.

"Potter, 100 points for passing the note," Snape said. Turning his attention to Hermione, he continued with a wicked gleam, "Ms. Granger, I'll let it slide. It's punishment enough it seems that you have Potter as a boyfriend."

The class roared.

Harry had never felt so humiliated in his life. But he pushed his own feelings aside and whispered a heartfelt apology to his close friend who'd he'd inadvertently dragged into this mess.

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It was all over the castle within minutes. Harry was with Hermione. Harry couldn't get an erection. And soon… Harry had a small penis. And eventually… Harry had no testicles. Harry wasn't a man.

Within the hour, there were a series of posters up all over the castle with explicate depictions of Harry's supposed anatomy. The Slytherins were exceptionally organized in their task – having apparently dropped everything to mobilize this effort to humiliate Harry Potter. They issued every student who would wear one a button that said: "Save Potter's pitiful private parts." On every common wall they'd placed boxes calling for donations to the buy Harry potions to save his bits.

Harry was mortified; he'd become the butt of the castle's joke. But he felt worst for Hermione. She was in some of the posters as well, sporting a confused expression on her face as she tried to figure out how to have sex with him. But perhaps even more humiliating to him than the posters and constant jokes was the fact that Severus had done this to him. Granted this wasn't his Severus, but still. Harry shuddered to think what Hermione must think of him now.

She seemed in decent spirits at the moment. It helped that they were in the Gryffindor common room, probably the only place in the castle without a visible poster.

"Hermione," Harry began, choking back tears. "I don't know what to say."

"It's alright, Harry," she replied, grabbing his hand. "It isn't your fault."

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Dumbledore slammed a flier crudely depicting Harry and Hermione together on his desk.

"How could you, Severus?" he asked forcefully, his disappointment evident.

The stern Potions professor barely blinked and began coldly, "I am not responsible for those."

"While that may be, who was it that started all this?"

"Potter sent me a note," Snape snapped. "If that note had been intercepted by the wrong party…"

Dumbledore scoffed. "Don't make this about that. This has nothing to do with maintaining your cover and you damn well know it."

"His behavior is consistently inappropriate," Snape replied calmly.

Dumbledore threw his hands up. "Look at your behavior towards him. Is it mature? I think not."

"Because he―"

"Enough! What about your behavior towards me? It is hardly professional. You have defied me in ways you would never dream of before."

"Because you're taking his side!" Snape retaliated.

"No. I'm trying to manage this insane situation. What have you done, Severus?"

"This is all Potter's fault!"

Dumbledore plopped in his chair, exhausted beyond measure with the man standing before him. He sighed deeply and began, "You've humiliated two students. Think about that."

"I don't care," Snape replied coldly, his voice and his mind devoid of any remorse.

Dumbledore studied his friend and professor a long moment, realizing that he was telling the truth. He didn't care, not in the least. With a heavy heart, Dumbledore spoke. "I don't know you, Severus. I have to take disciplinary action in this matter – I cannot remember the last time I had to do that with a professor at this school. I'm putting you on probation."

"Just fire me already. I don't give a damn," Snape replied irritably.

Dumbledore needed a breakthrough and soon. He seized on this opportunity.

"Is that what you want? Is that what you intended, for me to fire you?"

Snape's anger flared suddenly. "Stop it with this psychoanalytic bullshit!"

Dumbledore was undeterred and continued, "Maybe then you could be away from here… away from Harry."

"You really are deluded if you think I'm running away from some boy," Snape sneered.

"What did the note say?"

"Pardon?"

"The note Harry passed in class. What did it say?"

"What the hell does that matter?"

"It matters. Tell me."

"He wanted to see me. Again!"

"Hmm." He held back from asking 'and how did that make you feel?' but asked instead, "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Why the hell do you keep asking me that?" Snape asked with unconcealed annoyance.

"To be honest, I'm hoping for some logical explanation for what you just did. I can't envision you ever being capable of something like this before."

"Well then you don't know what I'm capable of."

"You're saying that only reiterates to me that you are not well."

"You're the sick one! Thinking I should be with Potter. He's a boy!

The first glimmer of hope in an eternity, Dumbledore thought. "Is that why you're so upset? Because of Harry's age? Because he's your student? You think it immoral?"

"Stop it. I don't know how on earth I ever ended up with him, but―"

"You didn't read his journal?"

"I burned it."

Dumbledore did not even react with surprise. "Why did you do that?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"I'm not discussing this. Stop trying to make this mean something."

"I'm trying to figure out what it is that's making you react so strongly to him."

"He's an insolent little cretin and he deserves what he gets."

"You're telling me you feel no regret for what you've done here?"

"No."

"I can't tell you how much it disappoints me to hear that, Severus."

A moment. "I don't give a fuck."

Dumbledore appeared unfazed, almost as though he were expecting that response. "There was a time, Severus , where you valued my opinion very highly… do you remember that? What has changed?"

Severus looked deep in thought for a moment and Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair, eager for the answer.

"I think you must be mistaken. I never gave a rat's arse what you thought of me," Snape spat with sudden venom. "I'd quit in a heartbeat if I could."

"But you can't."

Snape's eyes gleamed with rage.

"Severus, although I know you're finding this hard to believe in the moment, my intention now and always has been to help you."

"I don't want your fucking help. I don't know if you're trying to be my friend or my father or what. But you are neither," Snape said scornfully. "Keep your condescending altruism away from me and my life."

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Harry had gone up to his bedroom early this evening. Apparently even in the Gryffindor common room he wasn't immune from being asked about his relationship with Hermione. Over the past two days, the teachers had spelled the walls to prevent any fliers from being posted, but the Slytherins were managing well enough to get around the charms. And he overheard McGonagall telling another professor that Snape was doing nothing to stop them.

Following his bedtime ritual, Harry retrieved the Marauder's map from his trunk. But tonight he couldn't open it. Instead, he stared at the front of the blank parchment for what seemed like an eternity.

Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he headed downstairs to the common room and found Hermione.

Raising a silencing charm, he told her, "Maybe… maybe Ron's right. Maybe I do need to move on."

Hermione's eyes were filled with sympathy. "Harry…"

"After everything he's done to you… I…" Harry fought to control his straining voice. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't want me anymore… he's made that pretty clear."

Harry looked down at the map in hands once more and thought about what had happened in that classroom two days ago and since.

With a calm certitude that startled Hermione, he handed her the map and said, "Take it. I'm done."

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Author's note: I hope everyone enjoyed this long-awaited chapter. Thank you so much for your reviews of the last – I know that many of you were hoping for a happy chapter after the last, and I'm sorry to disappoint in that realm. But I'm sticking to my vision. I just hope you'll trust me and hang on for the ride. And I'm so sorry about the very long delay, but life has been and continues to be very hectic. I also updated unexpected grace a couple of weeks ago in case anyone is interested.

Meanwhile, I look forward to your thoughts on this chapter…..