Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or any of the character's in it.

XXX

He didn't know where he was going. Couldn't know. Couldn't think about anything other than the all too true words that Snape had snarled at him not ten minutes previous. It was only once he reached the all-too familiar Quiddich pitch that he realized where his legs had taken him. He lay down on the dirt of the pitch and closed his eyes, taking what felt like the first breath since he'd gotten the news from Dumbledore the night before.

It was all he could do not to scream as all the things he'd been suppressing over the last day surfaced. He realized that he'd have to find another way of dealing with his reality; the fact that one day with the knowledge and a couple of harsh words from Snape had practically broken him made it obvious he couldn't accept certainty.

He knew it was devoutly selfish that he was so concerned with the thought of his own death that it plagued him intolerably. The self-loathing that came from these feelings was enough to make him want to take his own life and he cursed himself for feeling this way. Though he wished he could simply change his pessimistic view on the situation he knew he didn't have it in him to live the rest of his life in content without any help.

It was at that moment that Harry remembered the pensive; all he had to do was put the memory of Dumbledore telling him in the pensive and he would be able to continue life normally. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of not being burdened by his own death, and even though the truth was the truth whether or not he knew it, he felt himself relax.

Now all he had to do was supress the terrible exchange between him and his professor, the cruel truth's spoken and another failed attempt at occlumeny with Snape. He could go to Dumbledore tomorrow with his resolve and until then he could handle himself with the idea he wouldn't feel the way he did for much longer. But the words spoken by Snape still rang in his ears and he couldn't help but be hurt; even if he had already known the man hated him he never realized the feelings were so strong he couldn't slightly sympathize with Harry. It actually surprised him that Snape had said he did not care about his fate and he felt suddenly embarrassed for thinking that under all of the resentment there was even a strand of compassion.

Of course he hates me enough to be happy I'll die, he's had to spend most of his life protecting the 'ungrateful brat' that spawned from his school bully. That's enough reason to hate anyone, and I'm not that special.

He shook his head and let out a strangled laugh, pushing the thought away and standing, he made his way back.

And to think that it's only Monday…

XXX

"Severusss…" The hissing sound that came out of his mouth made the hooded figure standing in front of him shudder. The head Harry knew to be his professors nodded in response to Voldemort's voice.

"Master?"

"You haven't given me news about the boy. Is it not with me that your loyalty lies?" The question, though asked, sounded rhetorical.

"My loyalty lies with you alone, master. The brat has only been back at school for one day, though…"

Voldemort, speaking over Snape's dragging voice, drawled a soft "Crucio!" And Harry watched in horror as his professor fell to the ground in a pile of twitching pain.

It was only then that he realized he was once again in his aggressor's mind, yet he was unable to rip his gaze from Snape. Whether or not he knew he was risking everything staying in that mind, he couldn't help but stare at Snape thrashing.

Finally Voldemort released Harry's professor and addressed the man.

"You may go, Severus… But next time I call for you, you'd better have new information on the boy..." Apparently the threat was all his professor needed; he swiftly turned and left the dark lord to his business.

It was then that Harry ripped his mind from Voldemort's and startled awake.

He sat up, the pain in his head overwhelming but not as bad as the previous night. He swivelled his feet to the floor and, reaching into his trunk, pulled out the Maurader's map.

Opening the map, he noted that Snape had not yet arrived back. He felt the drawing urge to run down to the Dungeon's and help his professor; the connection he felt to the man that hated him could not be compared to anything he had ever felt. Yet something still held him back from running down to comfort his professor, and that was the fact that Snape completely hated him. Snape didn't even know that Harry had observed his weakness and he had the feeling that telling his withdrawn professor he'd seen him under the crucio would not make him happy.

A second later the name 'Severus Snape' popped onto the map, travelling fast towards the dungeon. Making a quick decision, he grabbed his invisibility cloak and, casting a look at the sleeping figure of Ron, he ran out.

Before he knew it he was running down towards the dungeons in hopes to see his potions professor. He knew he wouldn't have the guts to reveal himself to the man, but he hoped that just seeing him would cure his worries for the time being.

He came to a halt when his professor came into view, striding confidently enough through the corridor that Harry questioned whether his vision might have only been a simple nightmare. He swiftly passed Snape, walking quickly to stand beside the door of the potions room he stared at the man with concern.

The man stopped suddenly, staring at the space that Harry was, he brought his fingers up, pinching the ridge between his now close eyes, and he sighed.

"Potter…" The man practically hissed his name, outrage apparent in his voice and Harry's eyes widened as he began to panic.

How does he know I'm here? Maybe if I don't make a noise…

"Detention, I think, every day this week.And fifty points from Gryffindor, for blatant disregard to curfew." The man seemed not to be as angry as he should have been, but Harry barely noticed as he tried to figure out how his professor could even see him.

The second he realized why his professor could see him he blushed madly, embarrassment creeping upon him as he raised his hand which held, gripped tightly, his invisibility cloak.

"Oh, uh… I-" But he was at a complete loss of words and he just continued staring at Snape.

"Potter, is that what I think it is? You know I can confiscate that." The threat seemed empty and he stared at his professor, thinking the man seemed a lot more laid back than regularly.

"Right." Harry put his hand behind his back, hiding the cloak he knew Snape had already seen he stepped closer to the man. "Sorry professor, I- I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

His words seemed to spark realization in Snape and a look of outrage appeared on his face. "I have been a spy since you were a baby, Potter, and I can assure you I haven't suddenly become in need of your concerns!"

"Right, sir. Of course I know that but I couldn't help my feelings. I- I never can." His confession surprised both himself and his professor, which was made apparent by the widened eyes and open mouth of the man.

"Too good for self-control, Potter?" The question was accompanied by a smirk on the pale lips of his professor, and he couldn't help but flush at the insult. "I think you should leave now. Detention will be at eight o'clock every day. Do not be late, Potter, and stop wandering the halls at inappropriate hours. Otherwise you may have to spend every day with me for the rest of the year" The words, though an obvious warning, sounded alluring.

"Gee, sir, it sounds as if you're just trying to find reasons to spend time with me." He chuckled lightly at his own joke, but as he raised his eyes to stare into the blackness of Snape's, he regretted it instantly.

A moment later he was pressed against the wall with the weight of his professor pressed against him, his hand hovering over Harry's throat.

"Trust me, Potter, I do not wish to spend any extended amount of time with you. I want it as much as you want your fate, but it seems your company has been thrust upon me. I just hope you'll stop doing things to waist my already small window of free time." Snape dropped his hand as he realized what he was doing. He breathed heavily, still staring into Harry's eyes, still pressed up against the young boy.

Finally, after minutes in that position, Snape stepped back from Harry and averted his gaze.

"Go." Those words were all Harry needed, and he turned and fled.

XXX

"Harry!"

"What¸ Hermione?" His voice sounded as strained as he felt and he looked up from his seat across from Ron.

"You've been walking around all day like a zombie. You're lucky Snape didn't give you detention; you were practically asleep in his class, you know?" Her voice also sounded strained as she sat down across from the boys.

"Well he couldn't really give me detention because, well, I sort of already have detention with him for the entire week." He gave her his cheekiest grin as he admitted the trouble he was already in with Snape.

"Harry! I suppose that means your occlumency didn't go well, either?" in response to the question Harry offered his friend an innocent shake of his head, and she sighed heavily. "We know you're under a lot of pressure this year, Harry, but you still need to focus on school."

"Oy, 'Mione. Harry's got bigger things to worry about then school. Let him worry about it after Voldemort's dead." Hermione huffed at that as she shot Ron a look she saved exclusively for him. But Harry couldn't help but agree because, really, why was he even doing school at all? There was no real point in going to the classes when the knowledge he gained from them would do him no good.

"So how is your love life going?" He asked the question without looking at either of his friends, leaving the response up to either of them.

"Mine's rather good, thanks. I reckon I might ask Lavender to the winter ball." The information his friend gave was clearly meant to make Hermione jealous, but Harry noted she held only her regular look of distain when the subject of Lavender came up.

"Oh, Ronald, I thought you'd learned your mistake." She looked disapprovingly at her friend, who shot her an annoyed look in return. "Anyway, Harry, we should probably be speaking about your love life. Ginny has had a lot to say to me as of late, and I'd say it's high time you broke it off with her." The suggestion given to him sent Ron into an inappropriate rage and he was soon on his feet, yelling about how it was nearly dinner time and he should really join Dean and Seamus, because 'they were playing wizard chess'.

"I will talk to Ginny, but honestly I'm not sure why she thinks we're together in the first place. I never asked her out." His friend shot him a look of disbelief and he sighed, "Maybe I should have been more vocal with my feelings, but all I can do now is tell her how I really feel, right? Anyway, enough about that, I do realize what you did. You completely avoided talking about how your 'relations' are going. So, how are they, 'Mione?"

"Please!" She all but scoffed in response to his question, as though it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "The most attention I've gotten from a man since Victor is Malfoy's constant insults. Whether or not I like it, I'm a wallflower."

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, 'Mione, I mean that! Maybe if you dressed up a little more than you'd actually get noticed?" He felt bad saying anything negative about his friend, but he wanted to help her and the only flaw in her he could see was her boring clothes and, well, maybe her hair could look a little smoother.

"Fine, Harry, I'll buy some new clothes. But only if you'll come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend. I want a real man's opinion on how I look because obviously Ginny's hasn't been that useful!" She looked nearly excited at her suggestion, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't every day that Hermione Granger got excited about shopping.

"Okay, fine. As long as I'm back before occlumency it should be fine." He offered his friend a smile as they both stood, content about the plans and ready to make their way down to dinner.

Harry paused at the door, "Or you could just start dating Malfoy." He laughed as he felt Hermione punch his arm and he opened the door, letting her walk out before him he followed behind.

XXX

As he knocked on the cement door to the potions room he heard the sound echo through the dungeon. He barely heard Snape as he drawled "enter…" But he did hear it, and he entered the room which Snape was currently sitting in, papers spread across his desk he sat, marking them.

"Potter, here for your detention and actually on time for once? I'm impressed. I was under the impression that you were incapable of that, seeing as you were late for my class earlier. I also noticed you did not hand in the homework that I assigned yesterday." Snape, though clearly distracted by his work, still managed to give Harry a look of disgust.

"Well, professor, you'd better fail me, then." At his words Snape looked up once again from his papers, this time he looked annoyed.

"Ah, I see. I told Albus that this is how you'd react, acting out in such a way, but he was convinced you were much to mature for that. It seems he stands corrected, you're as stubborn as your father." The older man shook his head and continued marking, "Clean all the dirty cauldrons in that corner, Potter. All the supplies are waiting over there."

Harry was speechless at Snape's insult; he'd been expecting more of a fight about the paper, but he now realized his professor couldn't do much. And why would he want to, honestly? Harry was giving him no choice but to fail the boy who he'd wanted to fail from the start and proving him right about Harry's true nature all at once. He was probably making Snape happier than he'd ever been before. The thought was upsetting and he decided then and there that as soon as he got this memory out of his head he'd become the best student ever, especially in potions, until the day he died.

He walked over to where the cauldrons were and started scrubbing them, completely focused on the task at hand, his mind blanked completely. It was an hour and a half later, once he was finally finished, that he realized how at peace he had been. It had been really nice, and he thought about how funny it was that the most enjoyable moment of his day had been scrubbing cauldrons with Snape for company.

A thought occurred to him suddenly, and he stood, approaching the desk at which his professor was still marking papers.

"Er, professor? I'm done." At his words Snape looked up and towards the now clean cauldrons.

"You are dismissed."

'Um, sir?" Snape looked up once more, this time with irritation drawn on his expression.

"Out with it, Potter."

"Well, sir, it's just… I'm going to Hogsmeade this weekend!" His voice had become uneven as he finished his sentence, and he averted eye contact from Snape in discomfiture.

"That's nice, Potter. I'm sure you and your bloody Gryffindor friends will have much fun shopping. I'm a little confused as to why you think it's pertinent I have that information, though." The man's sarcastic tone was not lost on Harry, but he continued despite it.

"He said he wanted you to give him information on me, sir. I know Dumbledore said he wanted to wait, but I think I should have a say in it, too. The sooner the better, honestly, I know I'm barely a help to the old man anyway! And you being the one to give him that information will make him trust you completely." He didn't dare look up as he finished; he feared both Snape being angry at his suggestion and the man accepting it, either option had a huge downfall.

"Are you truly ready to die, Harry?" He was shocked by Snape's use of his first name and he looked up, catching the pained look of his professor.

"I just don't see a reason to wait. It's not as if I'm enjoying myself and I think, regarding the circumstances, I think it would be better to die now." Harry felt sad as he said what he'd been thinking aloud, but there was truly no reason to wait.

"It's not the time yet, Harry. When you are truly ready to die, you can come to me and I will tell the Dark Lord. But I sense your doubts, so no; you will not die on Saturday." Just the fact that his professor seemed to care slightly about his life made him feel that maybe he did have a reason to stick around, for now, anyway. He nodded, realizing he could make his way to Dumbledore's office and stop his depressed feelings for the time being.

"Right, well, I'll see you tomorrow sir." He ducked his head in goodbye and walked briskly out of the room, a newfound hope warming its way through his body as he thought that maybe Snape cared a little about Harry's life.

He practically pranced his way through the castle and it was only once he reached his Headmaster's office that he realized how absolutely ridiculous it was to react in this way to slight sympathy from Snape. He sighed as the smile melted off his face and he gave the door a confident knock.

Moments later Dumbledore was opening the door and giving Harry the usual "come in, my dear boy. Lemon drop?" routine.

"No, professor. I came here for a particular reason, actually sir. I want to take out my memory of the other night." The confusion on Dumbledore's face at his words made Harry angrier than he cared to admit, and he shook his head. "You know what I'm talking about! I don't want to be constantly plagued with the truth, sir; it makes me too depressed to function. Take it out of me!" He couldn't believe his own voice as he spoke, somewhere between begging and screaming.

"Harry, my boy, I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Yes you can! All you have to do is pull your stupid pensive out, sir; you know I already know that so why lie?" His voice was filled with a rage that was more often in the voice of his potions professor.

"Right, well maybe I spoke incorrectly. What I meant, Harry, is while I am capable of it, I must refuse. You see, I really do want you to enjoy yourself, but ignoring the truth is not the answer and I fear if I succumb to this demand you will hold it against me for your entire afterlife. I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm not willing to risk it." His mouth opened to protest but it was at that moment he realized there was no arguing with Dumbledore.

The old man always got his way; Harry would just have to find another way of forgetting the truth. He knew Snape had a pensive of his own but it was more than likely the man would not help him if Dumbledore wouldn't. And on top of that it would make Harry look inherently weaker than he truly was, or at least weaker than he liked to believe he was.

As he turned to leave, he huffed one last "You're wrong" before he continued out of the room.

Why doesn't he want to help me?

XXX

As he sat, waiting for Hermione to finish in the washroom, he realized how much of his week had been a blur. Maybe it was the fact that he'd had less than ten hours of sleep since he'd arrived at Hogwarts a week ago or maybe it was the fact that he'd spent the greater part of his time with Snape cleaning things.

Over the week his potions professor had loosened up slightly around him. He assumed the man was being driven by pity but he couldn't complain; Harry was even quite sure Snape had nearly apologized for his thoughtless words during their first occlumency lesson. But of course he hadn't apologized, but that might be attributed to the fact that ninety five percent of their time spent together was in silence as Snape marked and Harry cleaned.

"Harry!" His friend calling his name made him zone back into reality and he looked up from his butterbeer to see Hermione standing in front of him. He noticed, too, that Ginny was standing beside Hermione with her hand actually clasping the other girls.

"Harry, Ginny has insisted on joining us in our shopping!" The girls delight was clearly fake, and as much as he still wanted to help Hermione shop, there was no way he was dealing with Ginny at that moment.

He'd asked Hermione earlier in the week about any sorts of pharmaceutical that helped repress memories. She'd, of course, known about a drug that did this. She'd told him that the drug was called 'metopirone' and that it helped decrease bad memories; the only problem was that it was a muggle drug, and the only place Harry was allowed to go was Hogsmeade.

He knew there was the wizarding equal of a drugstore somewhere around and he'd decided he would go there today and hopefully find something to help him. He assumed that, in the wizarding world, pills were probably equivalent to potions, anyway, so not really all that harmful.

"Sorry, Hermione, Ginny, I'm going to have to reschedule the shopping for another time. Next weekend, perhaps? I've got an errand to run, so, er, I'll see you two later!" He knew he sounded a little panicked but he couldn't help it; the thought of having to confront Ginny was terrifying, the girl was like his little sister and the fact he'd strung her along for this probably made it much worse.

He walked out of the Three Broomsticks, looking both directions in confusion as he realized he wasn't sure where the shop was. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on where it had been when he'd viewed the layout of Hogsmeade on a map a couple of days previous. He walked slowly toward the shop, pausing every once and a while to try to visualize it again as to not get lost.

Finally he arrived at the shop and he suddenly realized why it wasn't in the main strip of shops. It looked a little run down, maybe even slightly spooky, but it had been a long time since Harry had been scared of something so futile, so, unblinking, he walked into the shop.

"Hello?" As he called for someone he remembered back to Olivanders; the situation had been very similar to this with the key difference being that he'd been a different boy back then. Harry walked over to the empty desk and impatiently rang the bell, looking around for any sign of someone working.

"Just one moment please!" The man's voice floated down from the top of a set of stairs in the back, and Harry strained his eyes in an attempt to see the man whose voice it was. As the man approached Harry he realized that, while he'd never seen this man before, he was impressed with what he saw. The man must have been nearly a foot taller than Harry with broad shoulders and a five o'clock shadow that was undeniably sexy.

"Uh, hi." He didn't recognize his own voice and he cleared his throat, trying again to speak so that the gorgeous man would not get a bad first impression. "I'm looking for a drug to get rid of some bad memories. Do you have anything equivalent to the muggle drug metopirone?" The man looked taken aback by Harry's directness and he couldn't help but feel smug as he stared at the man.

"Yes, I have something sort of like that. It is sort of between metopirone and MDMA; it makes your memories distant and makes you happy all at once." The man's smooth voice was distracting and Harry tried to hear the actual words coming out of the beautiful mouth.

"Great, do I need a prescription?" The man shook his head and smiled at Harry.

"No, you only need a prescription if you're not of age, but I can tell from your magic signature that you are. I'll fill you for a month and then, if you like it, I'll refill you, otherwise we can try something else. Sound okay with you?" Harry nodded and the man headed to the back and began sorting through his shelves.

The man took about ten minutes to find the pills, and once he'd finally retrieved them he hurried back to where he'd left Harry standing.

"Great, that'll be seven galleons, eight sickles and one knut, please." Harry dug into his pocket and, pulling his wallet out, handed the handsome man a wad of cash. In return the man gave Harry back his change as well as the bottle of pills and then quickly added some advice;

"Every time you take it you'll seem a little weird for a couple of hours, so make sure you give yourself time before you do anything important." Harry nodded and, thanking the man both for the pills and the advice, he walked out of the shop.

XXX

Thanks for reading and please review !