Anachronism

Sunday, 15 August, 8:05 PM

A knock on the door of the potions lab interrupted Severus in the middle of brewing. Harry had stopped knocking a while back, and the rap of knuckles wasn't his heavy, confident tap. Turning down the fire, Severus opened the door to reveal the house-elf.

With a pinched face that looked as though he had stumbled onto a cache of rotten eggs, Kreacher said, "Master Harry will have guests over today."

"Very well," said Severus, wondering why Potter hadn't bothered to come tell him himself. Although they'd not yet regained the casual intimacy that had characterized their interactions before sex, Harry had always been polite, and they'd not argued since the conflict in the office. The guests were probably Weasleys—he never could stand the Weasleys.

Kreacher stood in the open door without saying anything, his eyes narrowed at Severus as if he were casting curses with them. Sometimes, Severus suspected that the only reason the house-elf hadn't tried to kill him was because Harry refused to allow it.

"Have you something to say?" asked Severus, crossing his arms and staring down his nose.

Kreacher vanished with an abnormally loud bang.

As Severus's work on the hair dye salve did not progress nearly as fast without Harry's help, he soon returned to an activity that took up less and less of his time: trying to uncover the mystery of his past. The more he ruminated on the subject, the more he supposed that his other self had destroyed his notes and allowed Harry to do all the research for the sole purpose of forcing his future—or was it his past?—self to rely on the boy for information. It was just the sort of manipulative, conniving thing that he would do.

Reaching into the most protected, secretive pocket in his robes, he pulled out the wooden box. He could not open it. He'd not tried destruction spells yet, but he suspected that if he tried Fiendfyre, he would destroy it rather than open it. If his growing suspicions were correct, he could not open the box—only Harry could. The thought that he would have to go and beg Potter for help filled his stomach with stone and set his jaw tight.

He would not—could not!—grovel.

But if he had loved Harry, then he would have done everything in his power to protect him, and make sure that the Severus Snape who developed after the memories vanished would be one who would love Harry as well. There was no better way to do that than to force the two of them to work together: to be sure that he could not learn about his own past unless he involved himself with and trusted Harry. That meant that he would have to ask Harry for help. His past self had ensured that his future self would be reliant on Harry.

Harry was right. He was a bastard.

Still, he would not prostrate himself unless it proved unavoidable. He had to be sure that he had loved Harry. Harry had given evidence for that straightaway, but Severus had ignored it, leaving the photobook and vial of memories in the tower. The letters he had found in Harry's trunk had shown that he had cared for Harry more than he'd thought, but they didn't suggest the level of devotion that would require him to frustrate himself in order to make sure that he and Harry stayed together. He needed to go to the tower, even though the garden was probably now crawling with Weasleys.

Casting concealment charms on himself and the Pensieve that floated behind him, he ventured out of his lab into an obnoxiously bright day. As expected, the courtyard before the tower was full of gingers and their admirers. Not only were Ginevra, the twins, and Ronald in attendance, but William and Percy had joined the crowd as well. Ginevra sipped tea with the other women: Granger, Fleur Delacour, Angelina Johnson, and a woman Severus did not recognise. Upon Granger's lap sat one of Delacour and William's children, the other daughter resting in a pram beside the table, above which Ginevra manipulated conjured birds to flit about.

The men, including Harry and Adam, gathered near one of the pools. The small ginger boy, whose parents Severus had yet to determine, hung off of Potter as if the man were a tree, and he a monkey.

It took Severus longer to get to the tower than he had anticipated, as he doubted he could pass through the courtyard without detection, and so he was forced to take one of the side paths. As the garden had been built with little sense, paths wandering into nothing, some curling into an infinitesimal point, he spent most of his time searching for a path to the tower. After half an hour, Severus gave up and flew directly towards the base. As the door faced away from the house, he didn't worry about the possibility of anyone observing him entering, although he did cast a charm on the door to give it the appearance of stillness just in case.

The first two floors of the tower consisted of nothing but supports and a staircase. Curling and progressively narrowing like a nautilus shell, the staircase lacked an external railing. Without windows, the first two floors were lit by candlelight, and the edges of the staircase near the bottom seemed to vanish off into nothingness. As with the rest of the tower, jadeite and obsidian lined the stairs and the central pillar.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Severus stepped into the room in which he had lived and wasted away for almost four months. Everything was the way he had left it, the vial and photobook on the edge of his desk.

Sweeping over, he took his seat and picked up the photobook first. Opening it to a section towards the middle, he glanced down at the page to see a wizarding photograph of himself with Harry.

They stood in front of a desert landscape Severus had never seen before and did not recognise. Rolling hills, each a different colour like pastel balls of ice cream, stretched out behind them as they stood side by side, hand in hand. Both wore matching dopey grins, Severus's small and self-satisfied, Harry's huge. A gust of wind stole Harry's hat and the boy raced after it, jumping up in the air and snatching it as if it were a Snitch.

On the opposite page, was a picture of himself gazing out across the landscape beside a sign that read 'Badwater Basin'. At nearly three hundred feet below sea level, Badwater Basin was one of the many places in Death Valley Severus had hoped to eventually visit to collect samples. The next few pages showed more pictures of the two of them at Death Valley, including a photo of himself gathering small fish from a stream.

Turning towards the back, past the Death Valley collection, Severus opened the photobook to a section where all the pictures were of Easter Island. In one of them, they both stood before one of the monoliths, Severus dressed in sombre black; Harry, crimson. As they posed, Harry's hand wiggled over to capture Severus's, but rather than pull his hand away, Severus closed his own around Harry's.

A few pages past the Easter Island collection, Harry tossed stones into a stream of bright scarlet lava, the rocks exploding like firecrackers as they hit the fiery river. Past that, Severus stood below a patch of trees full of sleeping Howler monkeys, collecting samples from the Nicaraguan rain forest. He judged the location by the freshwater bull sharks featured in the picture on the opposite page. There, lightning flashes lit up two volcanic islands in the background as Severus fed the sharks bits of raw meat off a rickety boat.

As he turned the pages, more and more adventures and locations spilt across the pages. They had apparently traveled the world together, collecting potions ingredients and enjoying the landscapes. As time progressed, they stood closer and closer together in the pictures. Towards the end of the book, they never posed without touching each other unless one of them had control of the camera. Amongst the last pictures, detailing a trip to Antarctica, Severus pulled Harry against him for a kiss. Startled at first, Harry melted into it, wrapping his arms around Severus's waist as he pressed against him to return the kiss in earnest.

Tucked behind the page with the kiss was a bit of parchment labeled with Severus's name in Harry's hand. Picking it up, Severus leant back in his chair to read. In his flowing, boisterous handwriting, Harry had written a list of fifty reasons he loved Severus. It ranged from 'I love that you support me, even when you think I'm wrong,' to 'I love the way you look with your hair in a ponytail. A lot,' to 'I love going on holiday with you.'

Since he'd woken, he'd never understood why Harry had entered into a relationship with him. Without money, looks, or power, Severus had nothing to offer a potential mate. None of that mattered to Harry. Harry had loved him without reservation simply for who he was, rather than what he had or could become.

His heart in his throat, Severus re-read the note three times before he tucked it into his robes. He returned to the photo album, his fingers lingering over the photos of the two of them together. There were so many little things he'd not noticed moments before, both on his face and on Harry's. He'd loved Harry just as feverently as Harry had loved him. Although in the earlier pictures he'd focused on the exotic landscapes and unique ingredients, as time progressed, Harry had become the focus of his world.

While the thought of Scott and Harry together still turned his stomach, each picture where Harry showed delight on his open face sent his heart fluttering, as though he himself were experiencing the joy. How could he have been so foolish to assault the one person who accepted him for who he really was?

Opening the vial of memories, he poured them into the Pensieve. After checking to be sure that no one could approach him without his awareness, he dived into the collection of memories.

Severus, wearing Muggle black trousers and an equally dark jumper, knelt in the garden, planting a batch of Alihosty. Unlike the current garden, this patch of earth was smaller, closer to the house, and did not surround a tower. Based upon the lack of tower, Severus assumed the scene before him had taken place before he'd become ill.

A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he glanced up to see Harry meandering over, carrying a cup nearly identical to the one on the ground besides Severus's feet.

"Kreacher's made dinner," said Harry once he reached the edge of the planter box.

Not glancing up from his work, memory-Severus said, "I'll eat after I finish this."

Setting his cup besides Severus's, Harry knelt down beside him and picked up a discarded trowel. "Why don't you just do this with magic?"

Severus shook his head. "Magic is not always superior, Mr. Potter. This way I can best assess the temperature, content, and richness of the soil. Hand me that weeder."

As Harry reached for the weeder, his eyes focused on the tool, Severus switched their cups. Unlike the rest of the features of the memory, the movement of the cups was fuzzy, as though Harry wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but later guessed how and when Severus had switched them.

Oblivious to what Severus had done, Harry worked alongside him in silence. Severus only spoke to give directions, and Harry only in response to them.

After a short moment, Harry sat back on his heels and fetched the cup closest to him. Taking a large swig, he nearly spit out the contents, but forced himself to swallow it down. "Ugh, this isn't mine. What are you drinking?"

"Drinking?" asked Severus absently.

"In this cup." Harry thrust it towards him.

Severus's hands paused. He turned slowly, his eyes fixating on the cup as soon as it came into view. "Did you drink from that?"

Eyes darting between Severus's face and the cup, Harry set it down as if it were about to bite him. "Yes. Why?"

Still staring, Severus said, "It was a sex-change potion."

"WHAT?!" Harry leapt to his feet. "YOU'RE LYING!"

Severus shook his head. "Alihosty is bisexual and the males are extremely difficult to obtain. That type of sex-potion works on both humans and plants, so I decided to bring a sample to the garden to feed to half of my plants."

"IN A CUP?!" Harry yanked out his wand.

"It won't work," said Severus. "You can't clear it from your stomach because it works upon skin contact with humans. I'm afraid you'll be female by the end of the day."

"Fuck," said Harry, his eyes as wide as his glasses.

"Don't worry." Severus sat back and brushed his hands together. "I can brew you the antidote. We just have to wait for the Amorphophallus to bloom."

Harry crossed his arms up high over his chest, as if assuring himself that no breasts had started to grow. "How long will that take?"

"Oh...." Severus thought for a moment. "Two months."

"What!?" Flying forward, Harry clung to Severus's arm. "You have to help me! I can't last two months as a girl! You-" He shut his mouth and stared at Severus.

Severus stared back.

Harry's eyes narrowed.

Severus's lips pressed thin.

Harry's eyes became slits of glittering green.

Severus laughed, his shoulders shaking.

"You arsehole!" Harry smacked him, but there was no strength in the hit. "You are such a fucking bastard." He released Severus's arm, sucking in a huge sigh of relief.

"And you are as gullible as ever," said Severus, still smiling. "Really ... a sex-change potion that can work on contact? And I kept it in a drinking cup?" He raised his eyebrows at Harry.

Grinning, Harry scratched his arm. "It was the lack of antidote that made me cotton on. You always have an antidote."

The memory ended, returning Severus to the whirl of memories.

Falling into another, he saw himself on his bed in the tower, living through the assistance of Muggle machinery. When Scott had shown him his memory, Severus had thought that he, himself, looked ragged, but the man on the bed before him was a pale imitation of that healthier man in the earlier memory. Wide circles of black ringed his eyes, his lips were almost non-existent, and his skin—never the best—was as grey as the flagstones of the main courtyard in Hogwarts.

Harry sat beside the bed, holding Severus's hand in his. Thinner than Severus had ever seen Harry before, his eyes were rimmed in dark, puffy patches of flesh.

"Tomorrow," rasped out memory-Severus, his voice so dry Severus wanted to conjure a glass of water, "I want you to remove the machines."

"But-" said Harry. He swallowed hard, and, as Severus approached the two of them, he realised that what he had assumed to be glints of light off the lenses of Harry's glasses were actually tears.

"I've decided," said Severus. "This is what I want."

"A- all right," said Harry as he sucked in a shaky breath. "I will."

They sat in silence, Harry silently crying, Severus watching him.

"I'm sorry," said Severus.

Harry made a sobbing sound and grasped Severus's hand tighter. "Don't say that! I don't- I don't mind it. I'm glad that I ... had the chance to love you."

"I've hurt you."

"Oh, mon renard...." Harry shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, his face crumbling. When he could speak, he whispered, 'On risque de pleurer, si l'on s'est laissé apprivoiser'."

"I hate that language."

Harry made a sound that was half laughter, half sob. When he recovered himself, he said, "'One runs the risk of weeping, if one lets himself be tamed.'"

His eyes searching Harry's face, Severus said, "I would give up everything to spend the rest of my life with you. All my magic. Everything."

Tears poured down Harry's cheeks. "I know."

With a considerable amount of effort, Severus pulled his hand away from Harry's. "Go. Spend the night with your friends."

Shaking his head, Harry declared, "I'll not leave you."

"Please." The word sent a shiver through Harry, as though he feared it. His eyes softened, and he waited for Severus to continue.

Severus smiled at him. The small action looked painful. "I want to see you smiling when you return."

The corners of Harry's mouth curled up. "It'll make me happier being with you."

"Potter-"

Harry gave a snort of disgust and crossed his arms.

"Listen," said Severus. "I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to stay with you."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now go. Have a bit of fun. You're too depressing."

Harry stood and carefully, delicately, so as not to disturb the equipment, kissed Severus on the lips. "I'll see you tomorrow. With a smile."

"With a smile," said Severus.

Another memory followed that one close behind. Harry sat at the kitchen table of Molly Weasley, bouncing a laughing baby on a knee while Molly cooked dinner. "When do Bill and Fleur leave for Peru?" asked Harry.

"In four days," answered Molly with a sigh. "I know Bill is the best curse-breaker, but still, those Moche tombs are said to be the most dangerous ones in the world. I can understand why they will be leaving the children with me, but I don't think it's safe for Fleur."

"She wants to be with Bill," said Harry, as if he understood perfectly. "D'you think I could have the children visit Severus tomorrow?"

Molly frowned. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Small children-"

"Carry diseases, I know. But I'd like Severus to see Dominique soon." He swallowed hard. "I mean, she's growing up fast and the pictures don't do her justice."

Ronald came stomping into the room, followed by Granger. "Harry!"

Harry stood up, setting Dominique in her pram, and hugged them both.

"It's been too long," said Granger as she hugged him.

"I know."

"Ready for a night out?" asked Ronald, a crooked smile on his face.

"I don't know," said Harry. "I feel like I should be there with him...."

"Harry," said Ronald, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders. "You look like shite."

Harry forced a weak smile. "He said I was 'depressing'."

"There you go. He just wants to see you happy. Come, we'll have a nice night, and take him some fresh fruit in the morning."

"I've not spent a night apart from him in...." Harry shook his head.

"Then we'll steal food from the orchards on our way home early tomorrow morning."

"Ronald...." said Molly and Granger at the same time.

"Just having a laugh," muttered Ronald.

Harry's smile looked a little more genuine. "I'll go, but I'll be home before dawn."

"Just before it," promised Ronald, throwing an arm over Harry's shoulders. "Right now, we'll get smashed!"

The scene shifted to another later that night. It was still dark out, clouds covering the sky and preventing Severus from using the stars to estimate location and time. Harry, Ronald, and Granger sat together on a beach Severus didn't recognise.

Harry asked, "D'you think it was wrong to switch to Muggle medicine? I can't help-"

"No," said Granger. "You know the potions weren't helping him at all. I think he's improved since we began the Muggle treatments. I suppose the wizarding medicine only works if you're magical and he's effectively a Squib."

Shaking his head, Harry traced shapes in the sand with a finger. "Can you believe it? The greatest mind and-"

Kreacher appeared with a loud crack. "Master Severus has fallen." He stretched out a hand, Harry grabbed it, and the scene whirled as if someone had thrown reality into a blender. When the colours straightened out, they were in the tower, staring at a crowd of Healers surrounding the bed.

"What happened?!" cried Harry, pushing his way towards the bed.

Poppy caught him. "Harry, come with me," she said and, like a lost puppy, Harry followed.

"Oh Harry," she said, her eyes sad, and Harry nearly fell to the floor. Poppy hurriedly Summoned a chair for him, and he dropped into it, his hands shaking.

"Is he....?"

She knelt before him and took one of his hands in hers. "We don't know yet. We'll tell you as soon as we know. Healer Kessler found him on the floor in the centre of his room. He'd removed all of his equipment."

"What? Why?" Harry stared at the Healers crowded around the bed.

"I'm afraid I don't know. You'll have to ask him when he wakes," she said. She gave a soft smile and squeezed Harry's hand, but in her eyes, there was a darkness that suggested she thought Severus would never wake. "We'll try to keep him alive and comfortable as long as possible."

Harry whispered, "I need to see him."

"You need to wait until they finish their examinations," she said, smiling gently.

Harry stared at some point past her and made no objection. His eyes blinked slowly and the green behind the lids was so dark and dull, it had almost gone grey.

The memory ended and Severus sifted through the rest of them.

Most of them were snippets of the two of them brewing, on vacation, or Severus playing pranks on Harry. It was not something he had ever considered to be amusing before, but Harry's intense reactions always gave him a smile, and he wondered why he had never thought of trying it. It was the same when he saw the memory of himself teaching Harry how to make treacle tarts. He had never imagined he could cook, much less that he'd be good enough at it to make Harry proclaim the dish the best he'd ever tasted. So much knowledge had been lost when his memories vanished! What more could he learn if given the proper time and motivation?

The last and final memory had the only bit of sex. Harry had attached it to one of the memories of the two of them in the potions lab together, as if he had suspected Severus would find it objectionable.

It began with them sitting on a side-by-side and kissing. The kissing didn't bother him. It was odd to see himself doing things he'd not remembered, but no more so than any other memories.

That changed when he took off his clothes.

Compared to Harry's masculine beauty, he was old, scarred and far too slender. His former self stripped without a care, shedding his clothes with the ease of one stepping into a shower. Harry still remained mostly dressed when he knelt between Harry's legs.

Teasingly, his intense dark eyes never leaving Harry's, he laid kisses of devotion on the bulging crotch before him. He removed Harry's cock from his trousers and licked it hungrily, drawing the most amazing sounds from Harry's throat.

Severus had to turn away. He couldn't stand to see the two of them together although he didn't know why. It wasn't that it wasn't erotic: Harry's moans filled the room and called his cock to life. His body remembered even if his mind did not. But even with desire uncurling in his stomach, it still felt wrong to be watching them.

Glancing back, he saw himself worshiping Harry's body instead of abusing it. It should have made him angry to watch how he debased himself—to see himself on his knees, willingly submitting to the desires of another man.

But it didn't.

He didn't understand it. After his mistake with Voldemort, he had sworn he would freely kneel before no man ever again. He had promised himself he would never again be subservient to a powerful wizard. He had wanted Harry on his knees, sucking cock, but he had never, ever, envisioned that he would lower himself enough to return such a favour. Just as Narcissa had told him, he had been tamed.

But try as he might, he couldn't feel any anger over it. There was only longing, longing for what he'd had, and lost. Longing and ... voyeurism. It was an odd feeling to have about memories of oneself, but as he searched himself, he could find no other reason for his discomfort. Although both bodies were familiar to him, the men inside them were unknown to him. Just as there were many things about his future self that he didn't know, there were still many parts of Harry that he'd not imagined.

He and Harry had shifted now, Harry naked, without his glasses and bent over the edge of the sofa, Severus sliding in and out of his body.

"Oh fuck yeah," moaned Harry, his hips pushing back to meet Severus. "That's perfect. Just like that."

"I see you've agreed to babysit Victoire again," said Severus.

"Mmmm," answered Harry, his eyes just narrow slices. "Yeah."

Stroking his hand up the strong back before him, Severus said, "You want to have a child, don't you?" He scratched the back of Harry's neck and the boy nearly purred.

"Ohhhhhhhhh...."

Severus leant forward, pistoning his hips in a slow, lazy slide. "I want you to have a child."

Too lost in pleasure, Harry said nothing for several seconds. When he spoke, he said, "Unless you know something I don't, I can't have a child with you."

Severus scoffed. "I don't want to produce offspring. Ginny has agreed to carry your child."

"Mmmm ... that's-" Harry's eyes shot open and he stopped thrusting back. The surprise on his face mirrored Severus's own shock at what his other self had proposed. "Wait? What?"

Memory-Severus flipped Harry over as he transfigured the sofa to lift the cushions waist high. As soon as Harry raised his arse up enough for sex, Severus thrust in again, holding Harry's legs in place. Gasping, Harry grabbed Severus's shoulders, his head sliding back.

"I spoke to her earlier today," said Severus, as if it were a perfectly normal conversation to be having, "and she agreed."

Harry put his hands on Severus's chest, stopping him. Blinking, he said, "You went and asked my best friend—my ex-girlfriend—if she'd have a kid with me and you didn't ask me first? You hate kids!" The twin expressions of shock and disbelief on Harry's face brought an amused grin to Severus's face.

Running his hands over Harry's calves, Severus said, "I wouldn't hate your offspring. Besides, if I have a child, I'll teach it proper potions techniques before it can walk."

Harry still stared at Severus with suspicion. "But why Ginny?"

"She's unattached, she's likely very fertile, she'll not try to sue you for custody, and you two are around each other often." Severus's hands slipped up Harry's chest, his fingers capturing and teasing the two pebbled nipples as he rocked his hips.

"Ohhhh...." Harry threw back his head, his mouth open. For a moment he drifted in pleasure, his hips canting, then he shook his head, renewed his frown and said, "My mum had red hair."

Severus snorted, his hips stilling, his hands leaving Harry's legs. "Don't be daft. I selected her because it's likely you'll be able to fertilize her on the first attempt-"

"First attempt?" Harry's eyebrows shot up. "How many times do I have to fuck her?"

"None," answered Severus, his voice a low growl. "We'll use artificial insemination. Do you think I'd share you?"

Harry wrapped his legs around Severus's hips and pulled him closer. "You're the only one I ever want to be inside."

They said their words with such conviction and certainty, it almost seemed as if Scott had been a product of some feverish imagination. How things had changed after Severus had fallen ill.

Smiling, Severus bent to kiss him. When their lips parted, Severus straightened his back and said, "I also selected her because I want the mother to be someone we both know very well and who'll live with us during the pregnancy so I can monitor her condition. You know that there are few individuals who I'll tolerate living in this house."

"That won't work," Harry said, "Gin won't want to quit Quidditch."

Resuming the lazy slide, Severus agreed, "Not yet. We'll wait a few years."

"Good." Harry helped Severus thrust with his feet, his legs forcing the thick cock deeper and harder into his arse. "It'll not look good if I take time off so soon after becoming an Auror."

"I'll care for the child. I'll be at home anyway."

Legs stopping, Harry exclaimed, "You want to raise a kid?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

Hardly able to believe the memory before him, Severus agreed with Harry when he said, "Yeah."

Smirking, memory-Severus said, "You don't know me as well as you think."

Adopting an equally sly smile, Harry playfully countered, "So you want another green-eyed babe to woo?"

Severus stopped thrusting and looked at Harry as if he'd turned into a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Laughing, Harry grabbed Severus's arms. His eyes glinting, he licked his lips and growled, "Fuck me, Professor."

Both Severuses wanted him. This was how his 'first time' with Harry should've been. Instead, he'd gone and bollocksed it all up. His memory-self was pounding into Harry with the same strength he himself had used, but with Harry's moans and gasps, there was no doubt how much they both enjoyed it.

Finally, he understood. He'd hurt Harry. He'd raped his lover. Harry's birthday should have been a chance for them to enhance their relationship, not rip it to pieces. Harry shouldn't have had to fight him off—he should've stopped the moment Harry'd told him to.

He didn't deserve to be here, observing the intimate love-making that they'd once shared. Especially not after what he'd done. Taking one last look at himself wrapped up in an eager Harry, he left the memory and the Pensieve.

Severus blinked to clear his vision and glanced around the tower. It hadn't changed since he'd first dived into the Pensieve, but now, he felt years beyond the man who had stood on this very floor just moments before. Crossing over to the window, he gazed down upon the people gathered in the courtyard, watching Harry have tea with his friends. Once he would have been amongst their number. He'd had a family, a profession, a lover, a home, and the respect of an entire community. He didn't remember choosing this path originally, but it was his. This was his life—his home.

Down in the courtyard, Harry laughed at something Ronald said. Severus's heart tightened. Once he had been a source of happiness for Harry too. He had no idea how he could even begin to repair their relationship, but he had to try.

Removing the concealment charm, he left the tower and stepped out into the bright sun. To the shocked silence of the gathered party, he marched over and parked himself on a conjured chair beside Harry.

Harry stared at him, his eyes unblinking behind his glasses.

"Severus!" cried Fleur with a clap of her hands. "'Ow good of you to join us! 'Ow 'ave you been?"

"Well enough, and you?"

"Wonderful!" She bounced a smiling baby on her lap. "'Ave you seen Dominique since you've recovaired?"

"No," he answered.

Without hesitation, she stood, marched over, and plopped the child into Severus's arms.

With no memory of ever holding a child before, Severus did his best to keep from dropping her. She smiled up at him, her little white hands reaching out.

"She likes you," said William. "She normally hates non-family members."

"Victoire!" called Fleur and the girl came running, followed by the boy.

Victoire called, "Severus!" when she spotted him amongst the adults.

The boy came to a sudden halt in front of Severus, eyed him shrewdly, then asked, "Where's your bed?"

The adults laughed.

"He doesn't need it anymore," said Harry, his eyes never leaving Severus's face.

Victoire climbed into Severus lap, pushing aside her sister, who Severus handed back to her mother. Unsure of where to put his hands, Severus focused on preparing his tea.

"My son, Charlie," said Percy, putting an arm around the boy. "He'll have a little sibling any day now."

The unknown woman shifted, revealing her ripe belly. "I'm hoping for a girl," she said, patting herself. "It would be nice if Dominique had a playmate, although I'm sure they'll be good friends either way."

"Have you been to the new Apothecary in Diagon Alley?" asked Granger, peering at Severus over the rim of her teacup.

Settling back in his seat, Severus said, "I've not. Who owns it?" As easily as that, Severus joined the conversation as though he had always been included.

For the next hour they chatted amiably, then everyone retired to the dining room for an early dinner. After the guests left, Severus found himself alone with Harry in the parlour.

"I've watched these," Severus said, setting the vial of memories down on the table beside Harry's chair.

"It's about time," muttered Harry. Snatching the vial, he popped the cork and poured the memories back in his head. Removing the memories from the mind didn't remove them from one's recollection; it just dampened the emotional impact, as if one were watching a film rather than reliving what had happened before. Severus expected an emotional storm, and Harry's face did not disappoint. His eyes closed, and emotions flashed in rapid sequence across his features. His face contorted as various expressions of joy, pain, sorrow and regret slid across his features in quick succession. One moment, his face glowed with happiness; the next, his mouth dropped and Severus expected tears to pour down his cheeks as he clenched the edges of his armchair.

As the multitude of expressions slowed, Harry sucked in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sitting stiff and silent. After a moment, he relaxed, a small smile gracing his lips. When he opened his eyes again, they were free of tears, but not as bright as usual.

Removing the photobook from his robes, Severus set it on the table as well. Harry smiled at it as if it were an old friend, but did not pick it up. "Don't expect me to forgive you just because you looked at these. What d'you want?" he asked, his face stony.

Severus sat down across from Harry. "I don't expect anything. I would like you to answer one question without trying to force me to do something I find repugnant."

Harry toyed with the empty vial. "That depends. What's your question?"

"When I left my bed, where was I headed?"

Lifting his eyes to meet Severus's, Harry frowned and asked, "What d'you mean?"

"You showed me a memory of a night where I told you to go visit your friends, and the next morning, you were called back to the tower with the news that I had been found in the centre of the floor."

Swallowing hard, Harry nodded.

"In which direction was I heading? My desk? The books? The door?"

"I don't know," said Harry, scratching the back of his neck. "I never thought to ask. D'you think you were trying to get somewhere?"

"If my intention was simply to die, I would not have increased my agony by attempting to move across the room. I would've removed the equipment and let nature take its course, or used a spell if I had the ability. I'm a practical man—I see no sin in suicide and would prefer it to be effective and quick."

"I don't believe I have that information written down anywhere. You'll have to ask Healer Kessler, she was in charge of your care."

He had left his life in the hands of a Healer he had never heard of? "Why wasn't Poppy tending to me?"

"She had to work at Hogwarts. Besides, you wanted a Healer who had experience with Muggle treatments."

"I did?" If he had, that meant he had known he would lose his ability to react to Wizarding potions.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I guess you knew the potions would lose their effectiveness. I wonder why you didn't anticipate losing your memory."

"I did."

His head snapping up, Harry stared at Severus. "You did?"

Severus nodded. "I mentioned it to Phineas."

Harry chewed on his lower lip, the line between his eyebrows growing dark. "Why didn't you leave any information for yourself, then? It doesn't make any sense."

"I didn't want myself to know what I had done. I told Phineas that I'd had an accident, but that he shouldn't tell me what spell had caused it."

Snorting, Harry shook his head. "That's completely mental. If you did nearly die by an accident during spell creation, then you wouldn't be stupid enough to try that one again. Even if you were worried that you would, you could just destroy the spell." He glanced at Severus. "I know you hate destroying knowledge, but even you would destroy it rather than let yourself nearly die again, wouldn't you?"

"I would," he agreed.

His eyes narrowed, Harry rubbed his jaw. "You make no sense sometimes. If you knew you'd lose your memories, then you should've pulled them out, stuck them in a vial, and then later returned them to your head after you woke. We could've avoided this whole nonsense months ago."

Severus agreed. His actions made no sense and he had to think before he could offer up even a halfway satisfactory explanation. "Perhaps I knew how paranoid I would be." Reaching into his robes, he removed the wooden box he had found under his desk. "I might've taken measures to ensure the truth was difficult to obtain, in the hopes that I would accept it as such, compared to a truth that arrived easily. I might've hidden my memories. This box-" He handed it to Harry. "-could only be accessed with my blood. Fresh blood. It cannot be fooled by Polyjuice."

Turning the box over in his hands, Harry stared at it in silence for several moments before he lifted it to his lips. "Mon renard," he whispered.

Nothing happened.

Severus silently watched Harry fiddle with the box for a few moments. "Why do you call me fox in French?" he asked him.

Harry smiled, his fingers stroking the wood. "It's from Le Petit Prince, a book Hermione gave me when I told her that I was trying to learn French. It's about an alien prince who encounters a talking fox. The prince asks the fox to play with him because he is sad, but the fox says he can't, for he isn't tame. He says, 'Right now, I am just a fox and you are just a boy. We have no need of each other. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To you, I shall be unique in all the world. To me, you shall be unique in all the world.'" Harry's smile widened. "The fox says that his life is boring. If the prince tames him, the sun will come into his life. The step of the prince'll be music to his ears. The wheat fields'll remind the fox of the prince's beautiful golden hair."

Lifting his head, Harry's beautiful eyes met Severus's. "Thinking of this beauty, the fox exclaims, 'Please—tame me!' The prince says that he has no time because he wants to be able to understand things. The fox says, 'On ne connaît que les choses que l'on apprivoise'. Which means, 'one only understands the things that one tames.' That's the password to your safe."

Severus nodded.

"The prince asks what he must do to tame the fox. The fox says to be patient and don't speak. He says words are the source of misunderstandings. The prince must come at a certain hour every day and wait." His eyebrows lifting, Harry stared at Severus, daring him to protest.

Severus said nothing. He had not minded the dinners; he had rather liked them. He'd not realised Harry had got the idea from a children's book, but the thought didn't bother him at all.

"Anyway," said Harry, the challenge and all trace of mirth melting from his eyes. "The prince tames the fox, but then he has to leave. The fox is heartbroken and he says that he is very sad. The prince protests, saying that the fox begged to be tamed. The fox says yes and that, even though he is sad that...." Harry's breath hitched. "Even though he's sad that the prince is leaving, he is glad to have loved him because now the colour of wheat is beautiful. The fox says that you become forever responsible for what you tame."

"And you think that I am similar to this fox?" asked Severus.

"Or the prince," said Harry with a shrug. With a hard glint in his eyes, he added, "He is rather clueless about some very basic things."

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "I suppose you think the best way to stop a behaviour you find distasteful is to replicate it?"

Harry pressed his lips together, the hardness in his eyes melting. "No." Returning his attention to the box in his hands, he said, "But sometimes it's the only way to get you to stop. Where and how did you find this box?"

"It was hidden under a tile beneath my desk in the potions lab office. I used blood magic to remove the tile."

"Blood magic...." Setting the box down on the table before him, Harry pulled out his wand. Casting a cutting spell on his fingers, he chanted softly under his breath, then touched his bloodied fingers to the top of the box.

White light burst from it, filling the room. When it had faded, the solid block of wood had turned into a small wooden chest with a simple latch lock on the front. Without pause, Harry flicked the lock open and flipped back the lid. Reaching inside, he removed two envelopes.

"There's one for each of us," he said, his eyes flitting between the papers in his hand and Severus's face. Moving to him, Severus collected the envelope marked 'Severus' and examined the box for anything else hidden inside. He had been so sure that his memories would be found within it! After no amount of blood, potions, or spells could reveal anything else inside, he sat down to read. Harry had opened his own letter and sat transfixed as he read it.

Breaking the magical seal, Severus unfolded the parchment. It was the same type of parchment on which he had written the other message to himself.

If you continuously search, you will never find what you seek. If you want to know what happened, the answers are there, but you will not find them in books; I've placed them in people.

Give Harry a chance; he's not the boy you remember. No matter what you do, do not take him for granted.

P.S. If you've not found the connection between yourself and Endell, you aren't trying hard enough. Leave your laboratory and talk to people.

As much as it frustrated him to see his suspicions confirmed, it was also gratifying to know that he had been on the right track. He had hid the information and memories from himself on purpose in order to force him and Harry to spend time together.

"Show me yours," said Harry, his eye's meeting Severus's, his hand with his own letter out-stretched. Severus silently traded letters. Harry's read, "I never wanted to leave you. Be patient with me; I'm more scared and lost than I'll ever admit.

If I refuse to treat you the way you deserve to be treated, forget me. I may not ever again be the man you love and I've already caused you enough pain to last a lifetime.

Please forgive me.

"What sort of rubbish is this?" Harry jumped to his feet, and chucked the parchment at Severus. He paced the room. "I've been searching for months! I've spent days tracking down each clue, making lists, contacting every single person who could possibly help me. I've worked my arse off—trying to help you. And you- you- YOU FUCKING KNEW!"

"I don't know," said Severus, turning over both pieces of parchment, searching for hidden text.

"Self-centered bastard," grumbled Harry, the turns of his pacing growing sharper and sharper. "I've given everything to solving this and it's all just a bloody game to you. I don't know why I bother. Selfish, arrogant prick-"

"The answers are out there," Severus reminded him. "He- I hid them with the intention of them being found. I wanted to be sure that I-"

"FUCK YOU!" Harry snatched up a throw pillow and hurled it at Severus.

Casting swiftly to knock it aside, Severus stood.

"I want answers!" bellowed Harry. "I deserve answers!"

"Potter...." Severus stepped closer.

Harry whipped out his wand. He hissed, "Don't touch me!"

"Calm down! I-"

"Langlock!

It was an easy spell to block wandlessly, but Harry had sent a silent Inflamora following behind it and Severus barely managed to dive out of the way. The chair behind him burst into flames. A rapid fire of spells followed, all cast wordlessly, Harry's mouth a snarl as spells burst from the tip of his wand: Confringo, Expulso, Diffindo, all spells designed to do damage.

Instinctively casting a Shield Charm, Severus aimed spells of his own to try to destroy as many of the spells as possible, but they were sent too fast and too powerfully for him to counteract them all. He had to send several into the furniture around him, blowing up a table, pulverizing the sofa. With anyone else, he would've sent the spells straight back at the caster, but he didn't dare harm Harry.

Just as quickly as the spells started, they stopped. Harry panted, his breath harsh in the silence of the room. Without a word, he dropped his wand, and crumpled to the floor.

Reinforcing his shield, Severus eyed Harry as he waited for the next spell.

His head bowed, Harry sat there, buried in the weight of his robes. As abruptly as the attack had begun, it was over.

Cautiously, never removing the Shield Charm, Severus straightened his back and ventured a few steps forward. "I did it for you. I-"

Bitterly, Harry laughed. "Don't lie to me. You've always been a bastard with a black, twisted heart." He lifted his head, his eyes dry. "Even at your best you're still...." His face twisted.

Releasing the shield, Severus knelt before him. "I kept it secret so that we would be forced to work together.... So that I couldn't leave you."

Harry stared at him, his eyes just as confused and lost as they had been when he returned with Diggory's body from the graveyard so many years before.

Severus tucked his wand in his robes so as not to provoke another attack. Harry may have thought him comparable to a wild animal, but he'd only cast a single attack spell against Harry. Inching closer, he watched Harry's face, ready to dive away at any second. The danger lurking in the other man didn't scare him at all; he had always loved the excitement of adrenaline coursing through his veins, filling his body with heat. In a soft voice, Severus said, "We'll never be able to solve this unless we work together. I made sure of that."

A low chuckle emerged from Harry's throat, but he didn't sound amused. "So, that's why you've been nice to me lately. I thought so. If you can't get something from me, you have no use for me."

Harry grabbed his wand and Severus yanked out his own. Jumping to his feet, Harry glared down at Severus. "I don't care anymore. If you had cared for me at all, then you would've never put me through this hell. I'm through." He marched off, slamming the door behind him.

Severus knelt, staring at the closed door. He couldn't blame Harry. After all they both had been through, knowing that he had deliberately suppressed knowledge frustrated him more than any other aspect. Still, as infuriating as it was, he had always enjoyed solving mysteries. That was all that potion and spell creation was, in the end. Getting to his feet, he tucked the notes into his robes, and set off to the lab to prepare for tomorrow. He refused to approach the Gryffindors for random questions, and he doubted any of them knew what he needed to know anyway. If Harry wouldn't help him, there was only one person he could ask for help.


Response to Reviews

J - Hope this chapter revealed more of Severus for you!

mrequecky - I had hoped you would!