This chapter is dedicated to a special girl from Canada named Annick. We've known each other for some time now and I feel as though I can talk to her about anything.
I'd also like to thank Anna Rose, who's done a wonderful job correcting this chapter.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Ch38: SEVERUS' HELP
Long ago
In someone else's lifetime
Someone with my name
Who looked a lot like me
Came to know
A man and made a promise
He only had to say
And that's where she would be
Lately
Although the feelings run just as deep
The promise she made has grown impossible to keep
(Someone Else's Story - Chess)
It took Harry only a second to connect the name `Severus.' He had heard the name often enough at the Stone Edge to remember it for a lifetime - Severus Snape was the one who had turned his back to Dark Lord and betrayed everyone. Harry felt a cold chill trickle down to his gut and create a glowing ball of fury there. He didn't realize he had clenched his fists so tightly; they had turned white before Albus Dumbledore had reached the fireplace. Harry wanted to protest, but he hesitated too long. The old man was already sticking his head into the hearth so that only the lower part of his beard and back was visible. Harry flinched and sunk deeper into his chair when he heard Dumbledore give Snape a quick explanation about Harry's situation. All about the loss of memories. Harry realized the whole situation had just made a turn for the worse. He wasn't sure when Snape had left the Dark Lord's side, but it had to be around the time when Harry took his Dark Mark, which meant that the filthy traitor probably knew Harry was a Dark wizard and one of the Dark Lord's followers.
Not good.
What was more, however, was that Harry felt obliged to inform the Dark Lord of Snape's whereabouts. He still felt loyal despite running away. Harry wondered if it could be because the Death Eaters were all he knew before he met Annie, or if it had something to do with the potion he had been forced to take. Although ... Harry let his eyes wander to the old man, who had just pulled his head from the fireplace and was stroking the Phoenix's head ... perhaps it would be better to play good and cooperating for a while. Dumbledore already knew Harry had no memories. Maybe that could be his ticket away from Azkaban and the Dementors?
Feeling quite proud of himself, Harry tried to appear calm. He forced himself to take several calming breaths, forced himself to not think about the Dark Mark, and forced himself not to think about how much he resented Severus Snape.
Way too soon the fireplace turned green and spat out a tall, pale man with greasy black hair and black clothes. He had long fingers and a crooked nose. Harry immediately disliked the man, but at the same time he could understand how it had fooled the Dark Lord. The person Harry probably trusted less in the whole world truly looked menacing. Harry couldn't remember seeing him before, but he didn't fool himself into believing the man had never seen him.
"Potter," the newcomer drawled, staring at Harry with unreadable, black eyes. The words `traitor'
rested on Harry's tongue, but instead he merely said:
"Snape."
"That is Professor Snape, Harry," corrected Dumbledore gently. "He teaches Potions."
"I do not see the difference, Albus," Snape commented. "The boy has always been disrespectful and he has never made an effort to learn normal politeness like decent human beings."
Harry almost smirked. Even his old self hadn't liked Severus Snape. The rude comment didn't bother him at all; it actually made him feel better and more confident.
"That is a matter for another time, Severus. At the moment we need to find something that can help Harry restore his memories."
"I suppose a potion could do the trick," murmured the potions master softly. "I know one that is very effective. It demands several expensive and fragile ingredients, but it will not take me long to brew it."
Harry felt as though his heart was about to stop at the word `potion.'
"I am not taking another potion!" he shouted, erupting from his chair, but the adults paid no attention to him as they were too caught up in their solution.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore cried, his eyes twinkling brighter than ever. "What are we waiting for? Severus, please get started right away."
The Potion Master nodded and was about to leave when his eyes caught Harry's. Harry had scrambled from his chair and was now standing in a corner as far away as he could. Harry couldn't help it, but the word potion made his stomach feel sick and turn into a twisted a knot. He knew that the potions master was not on the Dark Lord's side, and that he probably wouldn't feed him with another final dose of the damned elixir he had been forced to take, but it didn't make taking another potion all right. In fact, it terrified him to the point where he almost felt as though he had trouble breathing.
"I said I will not take another potion!" Harry narrowed his eyes at the two adults. "I refuse!"
The headmaster stroked his beard while he regarded Harry carefully. "I am afraid we have little choice in the matter. Severus, is there any other option?"
Snape sneered. "Not that I know of. There are some things only a potion can fix. To try to mess with a spell now is not only dangerous, it could also give Potter a one-way ticket to St Mungos."
Better to go there than Azkaban, Harry mentally countered, but he was smart enough not to say it aloud.
"Harry?" the headmaster gently inquired when Harry didn't say anything. "We are only trying to help you."
"I would not know," replied Harry, deadpan. He did his best not to sound rude.
"The potion is the only thing that can restore your memories, my boy. Do you not wish to remember?" Dumbledore stepped closer towards Harry.
Harry did want to know what kind of person he had been. It would certainly answer a lot of questions and it could give him an advantage later on, but he wouldn't do it if the price was too high.
The headmaster and Snape obviously took Harry's silence as a `yes.' Snape nodded curtly and finally left the room. Harry was sure Dumbledore had noticed Snape's departure, even though the old man's eyes had never left Harry's. "It will be all right. If we are lucky, your memories can even give us an idea of Miss Granger's whereabouts."
It took Harry more time to connect the name Miss Granger as Hermione than it had to connect Severus with Snape, but when he finally made the connection, it didn't make him feel much more eager to take the new potion. Harry gulped and closed his eyes for a brief moment, sliding down to a sitting position on the floor in defeat. "It will not be all right," he murmured softly. "You do not understand."
The headmaster bent down so he was at the same level as Harry. "Please enlighten me."
Harry swallowed, not knowing where to begin. What was happening to him? Why did he have such an urge to confide in the older man? At the moment Harry could barely care. It could be his only way out of Azkaban. "It is just ... well, it is hard to explain. What if the potion goes wrong? What if it is, uhm, something else... I cannot take the chance, sir."
Understanding dawned in the older man's eyes. "Voldemort gave you potions as a part of your imprisonment, didn't he?"
Harry didn't answer. It wasn't necessary. Dumbledore patted his knee.
"I can assure you that Professor Snape is a quite talented potions master and will certainly not get the potion wrong. He is also a strong ally for the light. He will never do anything to harm you."
"But he hates me!" Harry couldn't help but exclaim. "He hates my guts! Actually, I would not be surprised if he feeds me poison on purpose, not to mention another dose of that awful -" realizing he had said too much, Harry abruptly shut his mouth.
Dumbledore sighed. "He does not hate you, Harry, even though he makes it seem that much. In fact, he has saved your life several times. I know you cannot remember, but he did everything he could to get you out from Voldemort's hide-out."
"Come again?" Harry spluttered. Not only because Dumbledore had yet again insulted his Dark Lord's name, but also because he had said that Snape had tried to get Harry out of Stone Edge. It had to be before Harry took his mark, or else he would've remembered. Perhaps Snape had known that Harry was about to get marked, and wanted to stop him from taking it...
Harry suddenly got a very bad feeling. Something wasn't right. Something about what the headmaster had just told just didn't add up. What was more, was that Harry felt that the answer was right in front of him. A part of him was terrified to figure out what it could be.
"You are lying," accused Harry, after Dumbledore had repeated what he had said. Dumbledore shook his head. Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"I am not. In fact, you can see it for yourself if you take the potion. If it helps, I will control it myself to make sure nothing is wrong. I can even take some if you want. My old mind can surely need to remember a few details."
"I suppose that will help a little," admitted Harry, knowing he had ran out of excuses. It didn't mean he had to like it though.
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes sparkling again. "It will probably take a little while longer before Severus has the potion done. Would you like something in the mean time? A cup of tea, perhaps, or-"
Harry quickly shook his head. "I am just tired, Sir. I did not get much sleep last night."
"Then I believe it is time for you to meet your dorm mates. They have all been missing you dearly." Dumbledore sobered up a little. "I am afraid there is little we can do about Miss Granger's situation at the moment until we know more about where she could be. We have Aurors on the case, however. There is no reason to give up hoping for the best."
Harry nodded numbly and rose from his chair. He could not believe he was getting away from punishment. If taking that potion was what it took to avoid it, then that was one more reason to take it, but he had to be extremely careful.
Harry said nothing while he followed the Headmaster down the stairs from the office, past the gargoyle, and the numerous halls they walked in before they reached their location. A portrait of a fat and ugly lady.
"Here we are," announced Dumbledore, unnecessarily. "The password is Flying Eagles." The ugly woman in the portrait smiled at Harry and said:
"Good to have you back, son. Come on in."
Harry glared at her, but she didn't seem to notice as she swung back and revealed an entrance to a room with too much red and gold. He felt the hairs on his neck and arms rise in alarm and horror when he realized he was not a Slytherin after all. He could handle being a Ravenclaw or even a Hufflepuff, but a Gryffindor? That house stood for recklessness, foolishness and irrational pride. Gryffindors were widely known among the Death Eaters for making poor and rash decisions that often ended up with them getting killed before the Death Eaters themselves even needed to raise a finger.
Harry really began to dread what he would remember after taking the potion from Snape, if this was only the beginning.
The common room went quiet when Harry entered. Every person in the room was staring at Harry in disbelief and shock, looking as though they had just seen a ghost for the first time. A tall, red haired boy reacted first, closely followed by a red haired girl. Unable to speak, Harry felt quite helpless when the boy gave him a one-armed hug and clapped his back.
"Good to have you back mate. We've missed you."
Harry could only nod as the boy let go of him and the younger girl, probably his sister, hugged him tightly.
"Don't leave us again!" she begged fiercely. Not knowing what else to do, Harry gave the headmaster a desperate look. To his amazement, the man seemed to take the hint.
"Students," he called, and he got everyone's attention in a matter of seconds. "I know you are all happy to have Mr. Potter back with us, and you are no doubt anxious to ask him many questions. However, I am afraid it will all have to wait until tomorrow. Right now the thing he needs the most is to rest and have a good night's sleep. Mr. Weasley, perhaps you would be so kind as to escort him to his bed?"
The red haired boy nodded eagerly. "Of course, Professor!"
"Wonderful. Please come down right afterwards."
Weasley nodded and gladly escorted Harry up the stairs. "I meant it when I said it's really good to have you back," he admitted. "It's brilliant, in fact. Gryffindor is not the same without you."
"Thank you," said Harry insincerely, following the other boy into a dormitory. He was tempted to say it had to be a huge misunderstanding and that they had to mistake him for another Harry. He felt completely out of place, like a black sheep among dozens of whites. He had felt as though he had belonged at the Stone Edge, and eventually he had felt as though he could belong with Annie too. The idea of him ever actually belonging to Gryffindor House was absolutely laughable. When Harry looked up again he saw the red-haired boy still standing there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Harry made an impatient sound.
"You know," the boy started. "You can tell me if there's something that bothers you. You have obviously been through a lot, a lot more than what I can even begin to understand. I know that I - um - maybe haven't been the best friend to you this year, but I promise to be better this time."
"Sure," said Harry, not knowing what else to say. He had a strange feeling someone had told the boy what to say to him.
"Oh," said the Gryffindor as he bent down, reaching carefully for something under his bed. "You probably want this." The boy was holding a snake by its tail, his long and lanky arm stretched out as far as possible in an effort to keep the snake away. He made a face.
"Is it mine?" asked Harry in amazement, and when the other teenager nodded Harry immediately felt happier. He had always wanted a snake.
"I never understood why you liked that snake so much, you know." The boy handed the snake over to Harry and immediately stepped away. "But I suppose being a Parselmouth helps."
Harry nodded, and felt a glowing satisfaction from the words. He was proud of being a Parselmouth. That was something he had in common with the Dark Lord, something that made him special.
Harry noticed that the other boy kept staring at him, almost without blinking. They shared an awkward silence, before the lanky, red haired teenager managed to stutter that he had to go down to the common room again. Harry raised his hand in farewell, but allowed himself to roll his eyes as soon as the boy had disappeared from the room and the door had closed behind him. He couldn't help thinking the other boy was an idiot. It was more than a little alarming to discover he had been friends with people like that. At least Hermione had seemed sweet enough.
Harry sat down on his bed and leaned his back against the wall. He knew he should feel ashamed for wanting to help a girl he knew nothing about, but for some reason it was the other way around. He felt guilty for not being able to help her. Perhaps his old self had remembered `their love' or something like that. Harry shifted uncomfortably at the thought.
Downstairs he could hear Dumbledore telling everyone what had happened to Hermione. Harry heard it well; no one else was speaking.
Turning his attention back to the snake, Harry sighed. Things had turned out much better for him than what he had dared to hope for. He had to forget about Hermione and try to figure out what to do.
Harry knew he probably should drink that potion. He couldn't imagine living the rest of his life wondering what his life had been like before. The best thing to do was to get his memories back. Then he could get out of the building and back to Annie.
Harry sighed as the snake curled itself around his left forearm. It was just big enough to cover the Dark Mark there, even though the poor thing looked starved.
Suddenly he heard some furious outrages downstairs from the common room.
"What's he doing there?" one of the boys shouted.
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" exclaimed an older man's voice, a voice Harry recognized as Severus Snape's.
"Now, now, Severus."
Harry felt his stomach turn. The potion had to be ready. He would never admit it, but he was scared of taking that potion. He had a feeling he would discover something awful. Something that would turn his world upside-down.
A minute later the door to the room he was staying in opened. Dumbledore and Snape stepped in. Snape was holding a blue vial.
"Make sure you lie comfortably," Snape instructed. "The potion will make you quite disoriented while it digs up your memories. However, I must warn you. It is not certain it will work. It depends on the reason you lost your memories in the first place."
"Wait - are you saying this potion may not work after all?" Harry suddenly felt a whole new level of doubt.
"Yes, but we are optimistic," Dumbledore assured. "It has never failed us before."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh great. Fantastic."
The old man didn't seem to notice Harry's sarcasm. "Wonderful. Are you ready?"
"Yes," snapped Harry sourly. He just wanted to get it over with.
Snape handed Harry the blue glass container. Harry sniffed it first to make sure it didn't smell anything like the stuff he had gotten at Stone Edge. Then he shrugged, tipped his head back and downed the vial.
-
-
The potion had a very paralyzing effect, Harry realized with more than a small stab of fear. The first few minutes Harry couldn't remember anything new, instead he was reminded of things that had just happened: what Hermione had said to him, his night in the city with Annie, how he had tortured those birds...
Harry stared up at the two adults looming above him, feeling quite nervous but also knowing that there was no way back.
"Let us give him some privacy, Severus," said Dumbledore, and he took Snape by the elbow. Snape sneered, but complied and left the room with the headmaster. Harry was glad, it was quite difficult to relax when someone like that was looking at him.
The potion had led him back to the Stone Edge now. He could recall everything he had experienced since that time with frightening details. He remembered things he shouldn't remember, like what he had eaten for breakfast the day before the raid in Diagon Alley. Remembering how the river full of rotten bodies he had been forced to swim in looked and smelled like made his stomach turn. He remembered how the skull tattoo had been spelled into his skin like it was yesterday. He rememberd the weeks with training before that.
Then it suddenly felt as though he was taking a portkey. Only instead of a tug behind his navel he felt a tug in his brain. Harry gasped and clutched his head with his hands. No one had told him it would bloody hurt! He felt his eyes watering, but he blinked it away. He could feel the potion working again. He laid still as the first of his lost memories came rushing back to him.
The new knowledge quickly became horribly confusing, however. Harry knew the potion wasn't lying and that it had
really happened, but all those memories of being tortured ... death eaters who had broken bone after bone in his body,
bruised him, humiliated him, tortured him in the worst way possible ... he hadn't remembered that. No one had told
him. He couldn't remember being tested to see if he was screwed up enough to ... to want to be a
Death Eater either.
The suspicion Harry had about something being horribly wrong tripled.
The potion brought him back further, from how Hermione had been the one thing he had tried to focus on not to lose his sanity completely, to Halloween, the night he had actually been captured. By then Harry didn't bother trying to figure out everything as he remembered it. He was discovering new things all the time. It was all so new still ... it didn't feel as though it had actually happened to him.
Harry was tired. If it was because of the potion or exhaustion he did not know, but soon he felt himself slipping away from reality. He lost himself into a world full of vivid colours and memories that he had once forgotten.
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