Chapter 30: Thanks for the Memories
A/N: Thanks to Very Small Prophet for contributions to this chapter!
Severus was floating peacefully and watching the sky change color. It was currently a soothing shade of aquamarine with streaks of brilliant orange, pink and gold meandering merrily across it. He felt … contented. It was an unfamiliar feeling and he was enjoying it thoroughly. He had no worries about the future and no troubling memories from the past, and only a vague recollection of an elderly black woman encouraging him to drink some sort of unusual-tasting tea. Now he was just floating happily, enjoying the lovely colors.
After a time there was some noise. The scene shifted and he found himself in a comfortable bed. To his amazement, Harry Potter and his pal Weasley were standing near the foot of it, beside the black woman. It was a dream, of course; there was no way it could be real. Not only did they all look exceptionally tall and strangely distorted, but Weasely's hair was a brilliant, shimmering electric orange. It was all rather psychedelic and Severus found it quite amusing.
"I've given him something to help him rest, and it's very strong, so he may be a bit confused," the woman was saying. "You mustn't stay too long. He needs to rest. Call me if you need me."
Harry approached cautiously. "Hello, Professor," he said. "Are you okay?"
Yes, it's a dream; no doubt about it now, Severus thought. Potter is being polite! "Since when has that ever mattered to you?" he drawled.
"Since I saw your memories and had a chance to think about them for a while. I didn't understand before, but then I saw how much you cared for my mum, and how you grieved, and how sorry you were for what you'd done. You didn't want Professor Dumbledore to die, or me either, even though you don't like me."
Severus yawned.
Harry fished in his pockets and pulled out a vial. "Here," he said, "I brought your memories back." He put them on the bedside table.
"Thanks for the memories," Severus sang, and then he started laughing. "How many times have I saved your useless life, Potter? Three, four?" He chanted, "Three-four-six-eight… And you just stood there like a lump with your mouth wide open and watched me die." He paused. "Do you know why I asked you to look at me then, Potter?" he asked. "Because staring at your eyes was better than staring at your tonsils!" He started laughing again.
Ron leaned over to Harry. "Wow!" he whispered. "I don't know what that lady gave him, but he's gone daft!"
"It's a good thing we're not in Britain right now or I'd have you in court," Severus continued. "Sue your arse off for reneging on a life debt." He laughed a bit hysterically, "A dozen life debts, a hundred life debts… You too, Weasel King, and the Know-It-All. I know I saved your lives at least once. But life debts only count when Slytherins owe them to Gryffindors. No Gryffindor ever owed a Slytherin anything. It's all take-take-take with you privileged lay-abouts, and let everyone else do the dirty work."
"Did you really save my life three times?" Harry asked. "I can only remember two."
"Two-four-six-eight, saving Potter is my fate," Severus chanted again. "He's the brat I love to hate… Potter, Potter, he's just…shate? No, that's not right. He's always late, he's…"
"Second-rate?" Ron suggested. Harry scowled at him.
"Nah, Weasel, you're the one who's second-rate. Potter is…werewolf bait. No, wait, Potter is Dark Lord bait. I'm the one who's werewolf bait." He gave another laugh. "Potter, next time you see your friend Lupin, ask him where he got the scars on his face. He'll lie about it."
"Lupin is dead," Harry said quietly.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I read about that. I forgot." Severus paused for a moment, suddenly serious. "I didn't kill him."
"I know you didn't," Harry said.
"I just chopped him up a little. Werewolf burgers!" Snape's laugh progressed from hysterical to maniacal. Then he started to sing in a surprisingly true baritone: "One, two, three, four / Can I have a little more? / Five, six, seven, eight-nine-ten ..."
Ron tugged on Harry's sleeve. "I think we'd better go, mate. He's not all here."
"You're the one who's not here, Weasley. This is all imaginary. Both of you are hallucinations." He laughed. "The tea that that woman gave me is really amazing. You should try some." His mind was hopping about like a March hare. He cocked an eyebrow and looked Harry in the eye. "I'll bet you want to know about your mum, don't you? You know she almost got arrested by the muggle cops once? Shoplifting, it was. Tried to nick a Beatles record – Yellow Submarine, I think. Had to magic her way out of it and got in trouble for underage spellcasting." He laughed and started singing again. "We all live in a Yellow Submarine…"
Ron dragged Harry forcibly from the room. Fawkes flapped in before they could close the door.
"And our friends / are all aboard…" Severus was starting to go off-pitch.
Fawkes didn't mind. His wizard was singing! He was much better than Albus. Albus loved to sing, but he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Fawkes trilled in harmony. Where were his two friends with the garish plumage? They liked music, too.
It was nice of young Harry and his red-crowned friend to come and visit, Fawkes thought happily as he watched the two young wizards leaving the infirmary. That's good. They've grow up into such fine young birds.
Fawkes had wanted to be there for Harry at the end of the lad's mission, but he knew that Albus had wanted him to stay away. Harry was supposed to act alone. It was essential to the plan, although Fawkes wasn't sure why. He didn't know that, if he had intervened to save Harry by absorbing Voldmort's curse, the way he'd done for Albus during the battle at the Ministry, it would have ruined everything.
Well, maybe he wasn't supposed to help Harry, but Severus had helped Harry, so Fawkes had helped Severus. It was all part of Albus's great plan, or so the phoenix believed, and he was happy that everything had worked out so well.
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"Did you have a nice rest?" Arusha asked when Severus opened his eyes.
"I did," he replied. "That was a rather interesting potion that you gave me."
"It's my special recipe," the old witch told him proudly. "I grow the mushrooms myself. I wanted to make sure you got a good sleep. I didn't let any visitors in to disturb you, except those two boys. I made an exception for them because they had to get back to London."
Those two boys? They were just a dream brought on by that hallucinogenic tea. A very stupid, pointless dream. Weren't they? A feeling of alarm started to creep over him. His eyes turned to the bedside table and fell on the vial of memories. Alarm turned to shock and he sat up so suddenly that he caused Arusha to jump.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
But Severus didn't reply. Oh, Merlin, no! What did I say to them?
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Now that the hurricane was over the New Orleans portkey office was jammed with travelers. It seemed like everyone was either coming back or getting out. Harry and Ron had taken a number and they were sitting on a bench waiting their turn. They'd been there for at least 20 minutes.
"What was Fawkes doing there?" Ron asked. "Why would he help Snape?"
"Snape was Dumbledore's man, right to the end," Harry said, "and it was loyalty to Dumbledore that brought Fawkes to me in the Chamber of Secrets, so I think it makes sense."
"Maybe, but did you see those scars on Snape's neck? It's hard to believe he survived. I remember what Nagini's bite did to my dad."
"If Fawkes' tears could save me after the Basilisk's attack, I'm sure they'd work for Nagini's attack, too," Harry said confidently. "I was dying when his tears saved me."
Harry scratched idly at his leg. "I guess I really do owe Snape a life debt. Maybe that's why I've been obsessed with finding him and knowing that he's okay."
Ron nodded. "That might explain it. I mean, even if he owed your dad, he paid that one off by saving you at the Quidditch match, according to Professor Dumbledore. He sort of owed your mum, since he helped get her and your dad killed, but he took care of that by making sure that you survived and Voldemort didn't. And he probably did all kinds of stuff that we don't even know about, too, so I guess he's at least one up on you, if not more."
"Well, he sort of helped get me killed, too," Harry pointed out. "Or at least he helped send me to my death."
"Yeah, but you're not dead, are you? And anyway, I think you've got Dumbledore to thank for that gambit. That was his plan, not Snape's."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Harry didn't like to think about the fact that Dumbledore may not always have had his best interests at heart. He wanted to believe that the old wizard had been nothing but a wise, all-knowing father figure behind his somewhat silly facade. He didn't like knowing that the man had a hidden dark side. When he had finally admitted to himself that Dumbledore had deliberately misled him on many occasions, it hurt. Dumbledore must have known from the start that he had that Horcrux in him, but the old man had misled him – lied to him, in fact – time after time. And why hadn't Albus Dumbledore protected his mum, and his dad and him, like he'd promised Snape?
Harry had done his best to ignore Rita Skeeter's exposé and the things that Aberforth had said. Sure, Albus Dumbledore had made mistakes when he was young, but that was because he'd been led astray by Grindlewald, and anyway, it was a long time ago. Albus had realized his error and become a different man by the time he was Headmaster of Hogwarts. Or so Harry kept telling himself. But somehow, whenever he tried to picture the kindly old wizard smiling benevolently at him, Harry would hear Snape's caustic voice in the background saying, "Like a pig for slaughter." He wished he could forget about that. Why did Snape have to give him that memory?
Eventually Ron said, "Do you suppose that Hermione and I owe him, too? I mean, if Snape saved us, it was really just a by-product of saving you, wasn't it? I don't really understand life debts. I'll have to discuss it with Hermione after we get back."
Ron was starting to look very worried. If I owe Snape, does that mean I'm going to start obsessing about him, like Harry's been doing? he wondered. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. In fact, he was sure he wasn't.
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"Don't you argue with me, young man!" Arusha said sternly. "You're still weak and you need to rest!"
"Nonsense!" Severus snapped. "Where are my clothes?" He snatched up his wand. "Accio pants!"
"Oh, no you don't!" Arusha reached out and caught the pants as they flew past her.
Fawkes whistled from his conjured perch. Wizards were so amusing sometimes.
The nurse, who had returned from the Quidditch Dome, took one look at the situation and wisely decided to leave it to Arusha. As she turned to leave, Mysteria and Darkness strolled in.
Mysteria waved. "Hi, Fawkes. Hi, Mr Slade. We've come to visit."
"Ooh, cool scars!" Darkness said as they drew closer to the bed. "I'll bet you got them fighting hideous monsters!"
Severus pulled the sheet up to his chin. Not only were the scars on his neck exposed for all to see, but he was dressed only in a thin white infirmary shift that left him almost naked.
Chuckling, Arusha tucked the pants and the rest of his clothes away in a closet and sealed it with a charm.
"Look what we found!" Darkness said, holding up the hand-creature.
Fawkes cawed and raised his wings in alarm.
Without dropping the sheet, Severus flicked his wand at the thing. "Levimanus!" he said sharply, levitating the hand away from the girl. "Those things are murderous! Where did you get it?"
"Give her back!" Darkness shouted. She scowled and put her hands on her hips. "She's okay. She was hiding in the dining hall. She was a bit skittish at first, but we made friends with her. All she needed was a little bit of love."
Mysteria plucked the hand out of the air. "We named her Fingerella. Mr Cohen says we can keep her."
Cohen is out of his mind, Severus thought. Almost as bad as Albus. Or Hagrid. I'll have a word with him.
"See how we've done her nails," the girl continued. She held the thing out so he could see that the nails were now neatly manicured and painted flat black with iridescent blue dots.
"The next time we're in town, we're going to get her a nice glove," she added.
He scowled, and the creature waggled her fingers at him.
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Harry and Ron were still sitting in the portkey office waiting for their number to be called.
"Do you believe that stuff Snape said about my mum?" Harry asked.
"You mean about the shoplifting?" Ron shrugged. "Who knows? You saw what condition he was in. He was higher than a kite! He was probably pulling your leg about that, and about Lupin, too. My advice is to forget it."
"I guess. You know, in those final moments in the shack, when he asked me to look at him, I think he was reaching out to me. I didn't realize it at the time, but I think he was, even if he's making fun of it now. Now he just doesn't want to admit it."
Ron said nothing. Their brief meeting with Snape seemed to have made Harry's obsession worse, not better.
"Snape and Aunt Petunia are the only ones left who knew my mother very well," Harry continued, "and I don't think I could ever get either one of them to tell me much about her."
"Not without a lot of Veritaserum. It would probably take a couple of pints each. I'd just forget about it, if I were you." Just forget about it. Please forget about it!
Harry sighed, then he rolled up his pant legs and stared at his calves, which were spotted with round purple welts. He and Ron hadn't known about smeeches, having skipped class the day they were described, and they had been horrified to discover the fat, glowing worms that had attached themselves to their legs during their journey through the swamp. Ron had nearly vomited.
"It was nice of that guy to hex those things off us," Harry observed, "but the bites are starting to itch again."
"Here, have some more of that ointment he gave us," Ron said, pulling a tube of it out of his pocket.
"Next!" called the man behind the counter as their number lit up in the air above him.
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Song Credits: "Thanks for the Memory" by Ralph Rainger and Leo Robin was first recorded by Bob Hope and Shirley Ross in 1938. "Yellow Submarine" is from the album "Revolver" and "All Together Now" is from the album "Yellow Submarine". Both are by John Lennon and Paul McCartney and were recorded by the Beatles. Young Severus saw the film Yellow Submarine in a movie theater in 1968, when he was eight years old. He sneaked in without paying.
A/N: I know this chapter took a long time. Thanks for your patience. Due to complications in RL, I may be a bit slow in replying to reviews, but don't let that deter you – I'll get to 'em eventually.