My Own, Chapter 6.

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling hence do not own any of the characters etc. etc.

Third Person POV:

With only a week left of school, the students of Hogwarts felt many things at once: anxiety, excitedness, stress, sadness, happiness and for most (particularly the teachers), relief. As a result, the hallways, classrooms, common rooms and Great Hall were filled with a more constant flow of chatter then usual, their general gossip topics heightened by their excitedness for the holidays. With only a week left, there were many old rumors still lurking about (like the fact that Nearly Headless Nick joined the headless club, which for the reader's record, he didn't), however, there were newly created rumors, which had a bit more truth in them. One of the students claimed that he saw a gargoyle wink at him, and there was also a rumor flying about of how Trelawney and Filch were seen in an unsuspecting Quidditch broom closet, however, the other rumor which had also been circulating was about Snape, and regarding his behavior. (It is believed by some students that he is a hermaphrodite because his moods seem to be caused by PMS). But furthermore, the majority of Hogwarts has been shocked by the fact that Professor Snape, for the last week, hadn't assigned a single set of work; a feat that was once considered impossible by both students and fellow professors. But while no one else knew as to what had changed Snape, Harry knew exactly.

After his second 'nightly' session in a row (this time at roughly 1.47 am), Severus had come to expect Harry to create potions at night, or rather, in the early hours of the morning. Determined not to let him win, Severus slept in his day robes so he would be fully prepared whenever Harry wished to call on him, so he wasn't disadvantaged. Severus, to make up for the lack of sleep, drank coffee, still determined not to break. By the third day, Severus looked as pale as possible, had dark, deep shadows under his eyes as well as bags. Despite the multitude of coffee, Severus still yawned every few minutes and would lazily drag his body wherever it needed to go. Harry, young and fit, managed to make up for the lack of sleep during his Divination classes, but even then, Harry was wearing out.

Despite it all, Harry couldn't help but admire Severus. It was obvious to both Harry and Severus what Harry was trying to achieve, but Severus remained adamant that he wouldn't break. As could perhaps be expected, Severus was moodier then usual, as well as overly paranoid. Practically anything that moved got either a snide, sharp remark or a detention, usually justified by Severus as committing some fault, but reality was that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and rather then any other professor roaming the hallways at that time, it had to be Severus. One could expect that the homework levels would rise to a length greater then Dumbledore (or Merlin's) beard, but instead, there was no homework at all. Worked down mentally and physically with only a combination of coffee, hate and anger flowing through his veins, Severus knew that he wouldn't have the energy or the time to correct any homework, but moreover…he just couldn't be bothered.

While Snape was struggling to keep up with his normal routine, Harry was being worshipped not just by Gryffindor, but also by all the other houses (although not so much of Slytherin). There was a general assumption among the students that if anything could affect their cold-hearted Professor, it had to be Harry, the Chosen One. After all, only Harry was treated extra unfairly by Snape (with the exception of Neville, but no one expected anything brave of Neville). Only Harry would stand up and defy him. This was all the convincing the mob needed – Harry was their savior. As a result, he was once again popular, constantly swamped by 'friends'. The attention made Harry's ego grow, and he was happy and more determined to continue what he was doing, however there was a major obstacle: he himself was now getting tired; the inability to break away from the crowd to relax was having a toll on him.

And so, with only a week to go, everything was intensified. Harry, despite having all of those early-morning sessions, actually didn't get much done; he was so determined to keep Snape awake that he inevitably grew tired himself and made many mistakes with the potions. His injury, without having much time to heal, was actually getting worse as the strings began to tug at his tender, raw skin. Yet, determined, Harry refused to show any sign of weakness to Severus. As a result, Harry still had two more potions to brew.

The 6th years had their last Hogsmeade trip for the term and so there were massive groups of students bulk-buying lollies from Honeydukes, stocking up for the holidays. While Hermione went into the store to search for gifts for some cousins, Ron and Harry sat outside, neither having money to spend nor wanting to be in an overly crowded room. Ron started to talk about the holidays and how Charlie was expected to make it back for the holidays when he realized that Harry was practically sleeping.

"Harry, are you alright?" He asked, gently nudging Harry. Harry's lightly closed eyes fluttered open.

"Yeah, I'm alright, just a bit tired I ''spose."

"I've been noticing you've been tired for a while…what's happening?" Ron asked, concerned. Harry heaved a big sigh.

"It's just … school, homework, and Snape. I don't know why, Ron, but lately I've been sort of obsessed with my grades, and as I have become more tired because of Snape, my grades are failing even through I'm trying so hard. I-I just don't understand how others can be so…perfect, and get such perfect scores. Basically, in short, I'm sick of being tired, and tired of being sick. I'm so over bloody school work." Harry ranted. Understanding his frustration, Ron, rather then tease or mock, just listened to Harry.
"How is that thing with Snape going, anyway?" Ron questioned. Harry breathed another sigh, as if that small puff of exhaled air ridded his body of its burdens.

"Well, he's bloody exhausted, but I've still got two potions to go…I can't be bothered."

"Harry, I know I'll be sounding like Hermione and all, and while it is great to see Snape humbled, you need to make sure you're ok. Snape isn't worth the trouble of getting tired and sick." Ron advised, in a low voice. The boys stood up from their seat as Hermione approached them.

"Thanks, mate." Harry responded quietly as they walked with Hermione the Three Broomsticks. Ron eagerly followed Hermione while Harry slugged behind them.

Meanwhile…

Severus, in the couple hours of peace granted by the absence of the 6th years, found himself lying on his bed, wide-awake. Over-exhaustion hadn't only depleted his appetite, but also did not allow him to sleep; he was almost hyperactive. His thoughts didn't stray from the fundamentals of his life (school, Harry, Lily, sleep). The more he thought about Harry, the more agitated he got. His legs started to wobble as a sign of restlessness, and fed up with the prospect of no sleep, he got out of bed and walked. He was too tired to care where he was going, happy it was a slight distraction for his head. He walked through out the dungeons, and constantly found himself drawn outside. He walked over to the side of the lake and sat under a large beech tree, much to the shock of on looking students. His pallor, which was paler then usual, startled and frightened students as it contrasted with his dark features; Severus looked like the living dead. He didn't care though, he barely registered their glances, and he barely heard their gasps of fright or giggles of gossip. He felt as though his mind was completely disconnected from his body. Both of these separate parts of him were deprived of many things. His body of food, water and substance, his mind of sanity and freshness. Nonetheless, the only thing keeping Severus was sheer determination to prove the victor over Harry Potter. And, this was all anyone could see upon looking into his dark eyes: determination.

At 2.30 in the morning, Harry grabbed his Potions work and dragged it to the deserted classroom, wondering how he could continue going on this way. As he began setting out his materials, Snape apparated into the room fully dressed. Not a sound was emitted from either the student or teacher. Snape just wandered off and sat down in a corner, watching Harry. He could still not work out why the room was so familiar to him, or why he was drawn to this particular part of the room. Resigned, he watched Harry as he worked at his potions. As he watched, he couldn't help but to notice that Harry was better at Potions then he gave him credit for. It wasn't necessarily Harry's ability to interpret the instructions and to add the correct ingredients, but rather, how he prepared and added them. While pouring a substance, Harry kept the flask a certain distance away from the cauldron, tilted it at a certain angle, and prepared the ingredients in a certain way which make the potions more accurate and which made Severus note how similar Harry is to Lily (although it should be noted that this was an unconscious thought). Nonetheless, it is fair to say that Severus was intrigued by Harry's potion-making skill level. He got up from his seat on the ground and walked over to Harry's working spot to better watch his processes. Harry wasn't aware of Snape for he was too wrapped up in what he was doing. Besides the actual process of making the potions, Harry had another prominent thought in his head, which was sleep. Harry was methodically stirring the cauldron while trying to reach out to grab and ingredient. "

"One thing at once, Potter, or else you'll ruin." Snape advised, without any emotion. Both of them were beyond registering. Harry recorrected himself and continued on, the minutes ticking by. Eventually, the potion had reached a stable stage and Harry was released from his frantic stupor. Severus watched Harry's treatment of the potion, and started reminiscing about Lily, staring into the distance, until Harry broke his reverie with a cough.

"Night." He muttered, exiting the classroom. Despite hating Snape, Harry felt too rude to say nothing.

"Night, Potter." Snape replied, embarrassed, having realized he daydreamed in front of Harry. He gave one last look at the familiar room before exiting into the darkness of night.

Before anyone inhabiting Hogwarts could realize, it was the second last day of the term. Hermione was preparing to visit her parents who were holidaying in Australia, Ron wasn't preparing for going home and Harry was stressing. Although it would seem that at the time his holidays couldn't get any worse, somehow they always did, hence Harry wasn't looking forward to weeks of legal torture which he was certain would be worse then last holidays.

Harry had a bad night's sleep, tossing and turning, unable to stop the flow of thoughts despite his being exhausted. He thought of how unfair it was that he was tired, that Snape was his teacher that the entire world (both Wizard and Muggle) depended on him for their freedom and safety from Voldemort, but most of all he was upset about his Quidditch injury. What was more important to Harry was not the injury itself –for he has suffered from physical wounds before – but rather that he had no one to heal his wound, or at least to tell him it would all be alright. That assurance from parents, which makes many children feel at ease from even the darkest of thoughts, is an assurance many take for granted. And so, in the last few minutes before sleep eventually took over the parentless Potter, he thought of his parents. The images of Lily and James, gathered by his earliest memories and a collection of photos, appeared from behind his eye lids. He saw his mother's loving smile, her brilliant eyes and his father's smile, matched with the ruffled hair. A few tears tumbled unconsciously down his face, tiredness making him vulnerable to his raw emotions. He wished for the millionth time that he wasn't the Chosen One, but just Harry Potter, the boy who had parents. He thought of his father and wondered what he would do in Harry's situation. He knew that James would keep going; show no sign of resilience, show no sign of weakness. And as far as regarding his issue with Snape, Harry knew that James would have done the same, and that gave Harry a little pride; after all, he wanted to be just as courageous as his father and make him proud.

In the morning, the sun filtered through the glass panes and into the Gryffindor Common Rooms. The boys in Harry's dormitory slowly rose, taking a few minutes to adjust to the light in the room before changing into their robes.
"Harry, wake up." Seamus called out to Harry as he put on his shoes. No reply came from Harry.
"Harry, c'mon mate, wake up." Ron said, chucking his pajamas at Harry's bed, but still had no response. Ron drew back the curtains to see a very pale Harry. Worried, Ron started to shake him. After a few more nudges, Harry's eyes opened slowly.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked. Harry didn't reply but sat upright, ruffling his hair. "You looked like as though you weren't going to wake up."
Harry murmured a soft "sorry" while lifting himself out of bed. He felt as though his side in his stomach had been punctured with a knife; the stitches were not working. Ron worriedly at the expression on Harry's face.
"I think I might go get McGonagall, Harry." Ron said, reaching for the door.

"Don't bother Ron – I am fine. Really. I just need a bit of breakfast." Harry assured. Hardly convinced but too scared of the prospect of seeing McGonagall in her pajamas again, Ron consented and followed a slow Harry to the Great Hall.

Harry managed to finish his Transfiguration assignments and when he handed them in, McGonagall had such a perplexed expression at Harry's ghastly appearance that she was unable to speak. How had the Chosen One, the Golden Boy, the Snitch Seeker, Gryffindor student and more importantly the cheeky Harry Potter changed so much? Since when did he complete work by the deadline, and why is he still looking so sick? She had noticed that Harry hasn't been well in the last week, and this was the confirmation she needed to take action.

At the end of the day, Professor McGonagall made her way to Dumbledore's office to warn him of Harry's strange behavior. She stopped briefly at the entrance to his office as she told the gargoyle the password. Dumbledore was, rather then in his worn out seat, looking deeply into his pensieve. He was so entranced by whichever memory he was viewing that he hadn't noticed Minerva's entrance. Minerva waited for the Headmaster patiently while watching him. She couldn't help but notice his sad expression, and was convinced that she saw a tear drop into the unknown depths of the pensieve. Yet, when Albus turned around, there were no marks of redness that are usually left by tears – in fact, no trace of sadness, so much so that one could believe he had never before been sad. He gently smiled at her as he walked to his desk before sitting in his chair, gesturing for McGonagall to sit as well.

"How can I help you today, Minerva? Gummy Bear?" He offered pleasantly. Minerva kindly rejected. "I can understand your initial aversion to them – they are a muggle sweet, however, I found that once I had gotten over the notion of a 'gummy bear', I quite enjoyed them. Nonetheless, I believe that you didn't come here to talk about Muggle sweets, did you my dear friend?" asked Dumbledore.

"No, I am afraid the matter is a little more serious, regarding the health of one of our students."

"Which student?"

"Harry Potter." She answered, checking Albus' expression before continuing on. "He has become increasingly detached from the other Hogwarts students, and he looks as though he hasn't had a good night's sleep for two weeks! He looks not only miserable but dreadfully ill, Albus. We have to do something." She explained, exasperated. She loved Harry in such a maternal way that it was similar to a mother's love, although less intense. Albus' facial expressions visibly saddened.

"I'm afraid we cannot do anything, Minerva." He replied.

"What! What do you mean by that, Albus?" She asked in horror.

"He is under the care of Severus."

"Severus! Under the care of Severus! No wonder Harry has been acting like this! What are you thinking Albus?" She asked, her voice steadily becoming louder, her Scottish accent becoming more obvious.

"I trust Severus Snape." Dumbledore answered in such a way that it completely ended their heated discussion. Visibly frustrated, Minerva gathered her robes up about her and got up from her chair.

"Good day, Albus." She mumbled, turning to leave. Just before she exited the room, Albus called out.
"Good day, Minerva. And so you know, things with Harry will improve, they just need time. I wouldn't let him get hurt." He said.

"I know." Minerva whispered as she went down the steps, confused with Dumbledore's manner, and concerned for Harry.

In Snape's world, this is what had occured:

The day was finishing up, the students walked leisurely back to the Common Rooms before preparing to eat, and the teachers did whatever they wished. Severus began wondering to a room which had been prominent in his thoughts of Lily. He found himself in front of that peculiar yet familiar room which Harry used to create the potions. He walked into the still-dusty room but this time, rather then being dim, it was filled with light, and Severus could see everything from the upturned table and chairs to his previous footsteps which were marked by the dust on the floor. His mind obviously did not register the setting, nonetheless his body did, and he began walking to the corner of the room. He sat down on the floor in the same corner as the other night, but the difference this time was that he could see, and as he looked around his position on the floor, he couldn't help but see a deep inscription on the wooden barrier:

L.E (L) S.S . Severus stared at the carving, dumbstruck, before leaping up and running to Dumbledore's office. He found the Headmaster observing his collection of odd things when he walked in.
"Ah, Severus! What can I do for you?" Albus asked pleasantly.

"I need to view my memories, please." Severus chocked out. Albus stared at his employee and without hesitation retrieved the pensieve and memories which he had preserved for Severus' sanity (under the condition that Dumbledore not view them). Severus took the pensieve and memories to the corner of the room, too weak to carry it to his rooms and to tired to care. He poured the white, wispy substance in before plunging his head through to the past.

--/--

Lily and Severus were sitting in the corner of the room, hand in hand while watching Flitwick's motions. Severus the Elder observed his younger self and noticed signs of happiness and contentment; two elements which no longer existed for him. Lily, of course, was as beautiful as ever, her hair resting on her shoulders, her emerald eyes alight with humor. After asking the students to look up the uses of a particular charm, Flitwick began to walk around the class to observe every student's work. Unable to be observed by Flitwick, Lily turned around and wrote something on the wooden barrier before telling Severus something that made him give a throaty laugh.

The scene then changes to an array of scenes which show the same thing; Lily (and eventually Severus) re-inscribing their words, making them bolder. In every new scene, Severus and Lily appear to be slightly older, but no less content. Despite no longer having the memory in his head, Severus basically knew what was to happen next. Just as Severus and Lily leant over to the barrier to re-inscribe their names for the four hundredth time, James, violently green with envy, hexed Severus. The curse just missed Severus and hit a student behind him. The unsuspecting Ravenclaw dropped immediately to the floor. Severus and Lily looked on the corpse of Edwin Brown with looks of horror. Professor Flitwick ran around to the crowd of students and bent down over the deceased body, performing a number of charms before claiming him dead. Enquires immediately went out to identify the murderer (they assume he was murdered however the cause of death was unknown). Severus the Elder watching in anger as James Potter named Severus as the murderer. Separated from everyone, more painfully Lily, Severus spent months in solitude in Spinner's End as his case was being heard in the courts. He was constantly being recalled to the Courts of the Ministry of Magic until eventually he was announced as not guilty. The main point which determined his release were two factors: Lily Evans' alibi and the nature of the corpse. Unlike all other corpses which deteriorate as the time passes, the corpse was glossy and intact, as if it was a wax statue. Although it wasn't as overly traumatic as the death of Lily, this incident had left a dark mark on Severus, who while he went through that ordeal, also lost his father. Furthermore, his name was tainted at school, despite being not guilty, making his school life even harder.

It was later announced by the teachers that the room was not to be used again, in memory of Edwin, who hated Charms.

-/-

The moment Severus had pulled his head out of the pensieve, he was apparated to the Potions' classroom, where there was a lonely Potter.

The pensieve, on the other hand, was left useless. Dumbledore, unable to keep his curiosity at bay, took himself into Severus' memories, finishing as Minerva entered the room.

Hey Everyone,

I'm sorry that this story has taken me so long to update, however I have tried to make it up to you by making the chapter longer then usual. I am unlikely to post again until Feburary of 2010, and this is explained in my Author's Note in Chapter 19: Official of my other Snape story, BitterSweet.

I hope that you have all enjoyed the chapter and apologize for the poor structure of this chapter - I will try to fix it later.

Hope you are all having a brilliant night/day,

Love Angela (Missteque).