Proof of Life

The World Forgetting



“I\'m trying not to be, but I guess I can\'t help but feel a bit disappointed,” Harry confessed wearily, sitting in the empty Leaky Cauldron, with Neville across the table from him. Dropping by the Leaky Cauldron and waiting for Severus to finish his Herbology studies for the day had become his new late afternoon routine. “He used to be so passionate about Potions...”



Neville shrugged slightly. “Maybe he\'ll get back to Potions later. For now, he has his hands full with Herbology, which is a challenging subject, too.”



“I know that,” Harry said reluctantly. He wasn\'t sure why he felt so irked and despondent about Severus avoiding Potions. Maybe because he had an unsettling impression that a very important part of Severus was somehow lost, and the man seemed in no hurry to reclaim it, and it almost physically hurt to realize that. “I just wish he\'d bloody try!” Harry blurted out, almost in spite of himself.



“Look, Harry, if you had been... well, imprisoned for seven years, would you be hopping onto a broom to play Quidditch against Slytherin four months after being rescued?” Neville asked reasonably.



“I guess not,” Harry admitted, “but that\'s different! Quidditch is a competitive sport...”



Neville smirked slightly. “Everything is a competitive sport, as far as Snape is concerned.”



“That\'s nonsense,” Harry dismissed quickly. “Who would he be competing against, when he\'s brewing Potions at home, all by himself?” Except himself, the way he used to be, Harry thought suddenly, but that thought brought little comfort with it.



Neville just shrugged again. “It\'s probably going to be another half an hour until Severus is done. Do you want a drink?”



Harry shook his head mutely.



“Are you hungry?”



“No. I mean yes, but I\'m going to take Severus to eat at Aunt Mary\'s...”



“Ah. Well then. Want to visit my parents? I think they\'d enjoy it. It\'s been a while since you saw them.”



It\'d been over a year, to be exact, since Harry last went up to visit Alice and Frank. He felt vaguely guilty about not visiting more often, but he simply didn\'t know what good visiting them did, given their memory loss... and inability to form new memories. Neville, however, seemed unperturbed by Harry\'s reluctant expression.



“Come on,” Neville said, and led the way upstairs. Gritting his teeth, Harry followed, resolving not to make an ass of himself.



They walked up to the top floor of the Leaky Cauldron, and headed towards the door at the end of the hallway that Neville knocked on quietly.



“Come in,” a cheerful young voice said, and the door opened a moment later, to reveal a large, comfortable suite, clearly expanded with use of spatial extension charms. A dark-haired girl, no older than seventeen years old, greeted them with a cheerful smile.



“This is Nicolle, the new sitter,” Neville introduced them. “Nicolle, this is Harry. Are my parents up for some company?”



“I think so,” Nicolle said brightly. “Come on in.”



Slowly, Harry followed Neville into the spacious sitting room, where Alice and Frank were sitting across from each other. A half-assembled three-dimensional puzzle lay on the coffee table, and they both appeared to be preoccupied with it. Quietly, Harry stood behind Neville\'s back, casting cautious glances at Neville\'s parents. Even though Alice and Frank were only about six years older than Snape, they both looked much, much older than that. Frank had begun to bald, Harry noticed absently, and Alice\'s hair, gathered into a tight bun, was almost fully grey. He didn\'t fail to notice the slight trembling of Alice\'s hand as she hesitantly moved a piece of the puzzle to its correct place.



“Hello,” Neville said. “Mind if we join you for a bit?”



Alice and Frank both turned towards him. A small, barely noticeable gleam of something like recognition flashed in Alice\'s eyes, but was quickly replaced by regretful confusion.



“I\'m so sorry,” Alice said gently. “I don\'t remember you. Though I think I should...”



“I know. It\'s okay. I\'m Neville,” Neville said, his tone friendly, warm, and surprisingly calm. “And this is my friend, Harry.”



Frank stared at Harry without blinking.



“Good afternoon, Harry,” Alice said with a cheerful smile. “Would you like a drink?”



“Uh.” Harry couldn\'t help but feel slightly shocked by the offer, but nodded quickly. “Yes, all right. A butterbeer, if you\'ve got one.”



“I\'ll go check,” Alice said.



She looked around, as if not being completely sure of her surroundings, and walked slowly towards the kitchen. Harry felt a lump in his throat, as he watched the woman\'s fragile, uncertain movements, fidning it impossible to reconcile the recent revelation about the Longbottoms\' past with what he was seeing now. Was she really once a fearsome, ruthless Auror, like Alastor Moody himself? He just couldn\'t imagine it.



Alice opened the refrigerator, stared inside for a brief moment, and then turned around. “Yes, we have butterbeer,” she announced, and looked at Neville with a kind smile. “Would you like one as well?”



“No, thank you, I can\'t drink yet,” Neville said. “I still have some work to do. But I\'ll join you for a drink later tonight, if that\'s okay.”



“That\'s all right,” Frank said, speaking up for the first time. “What is it that you do?”



“Right now I do Herbology research,” Neville said.



Frank\'s lips quivered slightly to form a faint, thoughtful smile. “Sounds peaceful.”



Neville nodded. “It is.”



Frank shifted his attention to Harry. “And you?”



“I don\'t work right now,” Harry said. “But I used to work for the Auror Office until recently.”



“Oh.” Frank frowned slightly, processing the information in silence. “I think I used to know someone who worked for the Auror Office. Can\'t recall...” his face scrunched up in concentration, until finally, Frank simply shook his head in disgust. “Can\'t recall much of anything, it seems. Never mind.”



Alice came up to them, and handed an opened bottle of butterbeer to Harry, who took it, and absently bought it to his mouth.



Alice barely glanced at him. Her eyes were fixed on Neville.



As if on an impulse, she lifted her hand and placed it on Neville\'s shoulder. For a few agonizingly long minutes they stood facing each other, with Alice studying her son\'s face intently, “I\'m sorry,” she apologized a moment later, as if surprised to see her own fingers resting on Neville\'s shoulder. “I probably shouldn\'t be doing this. It\'s just that... you look so familiar. I\'m sorry.”



“Don\'t apologize,” Neville reassured her quickly. “It\'s nice. I\'m glad I look familiar.”



“But I already forgot your name,” Alice said with a slight sigh. “You are...”



“Neville. And this is Harry.”



“Right.” Alice turned to look at Harry, who was focused on sipping his butterbeer and not making an idiot of himself. Both were a difficult enough tasks, given the tight lump in his throat, and the burning in his eyes.



“We should get going, I think,” Harry whispered, handing his half-emptied butterbeer bottle to Alice. “Thank you.”



“Thank you for dropping by,” Alice said mildly. “Will you come by again?”



“Sure,” Harry said.



“Harry is really busy these days,” Neville said. “But I\'ll be back later tonight.”



“That would be nice,” Alice approved instantly. “Neville, maybe it\'s a strange question, but how do you know us?”



“It\'s a bit of a long story,” Neville replied, and for the first time, his voice was a bit tight. “I\'ll tell you this evening, all right?”



“All right,” Alice murmured. “I’ll look forward to it.”



“Bye,” Harry said quickly, and walked out of the suite as quickly as he could. Neville followed him shortly. Once outside, Harry leaned against the wall, and let out a deep breath. He\'d visited Frank and Alice on a number of occasions before, and it had always been understandably difficult and awkward, but this time, the quiet, uncertain anguish of the encounter had moved him in ways it never had before. Maybe because he understood with absolute clarity that had they been less lucky, it might have been Severus, unable to gain his bearings, unable to form new memories... unable to care for himself in even the simplest ways... might have been, but wasn\'t, Harry thought with overwhelming, blissful, guilty relief.



Harry cast a cautious glance at Neville, who was silently waiting for him to pull himself together. Harry couldn\'t help but wonder how Neville himself was managing this sort of thing day after day.



“You get used to it,” Neville said calmly, as if in response to Harry\'s unspoken thoughts. “You learn to be grateful for what you have left, you know? Even if it\'s not as much as you would like.”



Finding himself at a loss for words, Harry just nodded tightly.



When they made it back downstairs, Severus was already there, waiting, his arms folded on his chest, and his face bearing a familiar bitter scowl. Harry smiled, approaching him, trying not to dwell too much on why the man who had the gift of looking so unfriendly and inaccessible was able to evoke so much warmth in him... and why he suddenly had the overwhelming urge to come up to Severus and embrace him, burying his face in Severus\' bony shoulder.



If Severus was aware of Harry\'s odd stare, he gave no indication of it.



“Potter,” Severus said calmly.



“That\'s me,” Harry said with a tiny smile. “Shall we go?”



Severus nodded slightly and gave Neville a small nod as well.



“Longbottom, I hope I\'ll have something to show you tomorrow,” Severus said. “It has to do with the grafting problem we discussed earlier today. I have an idea.”



“Great,” Neville said enthusiastically. “All right, have a good day, both of you.”



~ * ~



“So you haven\'t grown tired of my company yet?” Harry asked a little teasingly, when he and Severus sat down at their usual table at Aunt Mary\'s.



“Not yet,” Severus said absently, for some reason suddenly not knowing how to make small talk; the sudden awkwardness felt almost new to him. He was still worn out by the endless string of sleepless nights, for which there seemed to be no end in sight. Still, somehow, over the last week, he had began to emerge, albeit slowly and uncertainly, from the dreary emotional numbness that had taken a hold of him about a month ago. Perhaps Harry had been right, and something as mundane as studying a new subject was helping... Or maybe, simply spending time with Harry, just like this, was doing something for Severus as well – during these simple, quiet, friendly meals spent together, Severus usually found himself more alert, more focused, and even his weariness was beginning to ebb away.



Something had changed about Harry as well – and that gradual, very subtle shift in the young man\'s demeanour was puzzling to Severus. With almost clinical detachment, he noted a change in Harry\'s facial expression, the slight dilation of the pupils, and the faint, barely noticeable head and eye movements that seemed to be directed at Severus... if Harry were interacting with someone his own age, Severus might have been led to take Harry\'s body language for a sign of romantic interest.



Which, of course, wasn\'t the case here. Severus knew that he was wrong... and he even understood why exactly he was so dangerously close to making such an error – people with his sort of experiences tended to mistake ordinary friendly gestures for something else. That train of thought brought a sharp pang of regret with it, because suddenly, to his own dismay, Severus realized that he didn\'t want to be mistaken about this. Desperately and bitterly, he wanted to feel fully human, fully alive, to forget the last seven years of his miserable existence and to believe that he could still elicit normal feelings in normal people...



He lifted his gaze, to realize that Harry was staring at him with a quizzical expression on his face.



“What\'s wrong?” Harry asked, shifting slightly in his chair. “You seem to be miles away.”



“Nothing is wrong,” Severus gave an abrupt response.



“Something on your mind then?” Harry probed cautiously.



“Potter,” Severus mused, not quite knowing how to pose that sort of question without weirding out Harry completely. “Why are you doing this?” Severus\' hand made an awkward, slightly jerky gesture above the table. “You realize it\'s rather odd for you to be spending every afternoon with me in this manner...”



For a second, Harry appeared to be at loss for words, and a strained silence ensued.



“Look... I enjoy spending time with you,” Harry said finally. “I\'m really glad that we\'re friends. I guess I should have asked you earlier, if you are enjoying this... or if you\'d rather not spend more time with me than necessary.”



Friendship. The word that was gloriously comforting and touching only a few weeks ago, now echoed with loneliness and loss, and Severus shook his head quickly, casting the irrational ruminations away.



“No, Potter,” he said gruffly. “It\'s fine. I mean - this is fine.”



“Well, good,” Harry said quickly. “So... how was work today?”



“Technically, it\'s not work yet,” Severus pointed out. “I\'ve completed the readings, and we\'ve... brainstormed about possible ideas for cross-breeding some of the plants that are commonly used in healing potions...However, I doubt you\'re interested in that,” Severus cut himself off abruptly.



“No, I\'m interested,” Harry said at once. “Tell me more.”



“Well, you might remember from your Potions classes that Snow Angelica stems interact with Silver Usnea in a volatile manner...”



“Right,” Harry said instantly. “Well, er, that\'s why we use the powdered Unicorn horn. It acts as a binding agent.”



Severus smirked slightly. Potter could complain all he wanted about Severus\' deplorable teaching skills, but even now, nine years since he\'d taught Potions to Harry, the young man still remembered something...



“Correct,” Severus said. “However, Unicorn horn has always been ridiculously expensive, and its cost had quadrupled in the last five years.”



“So you and Neville are looking for a way to crossbreed Snow Angelica with Silver Usnea?” Harry guessed. “If you\'re successful, the new plant will contain the magical properties of both herbs, right?”



“No, no,” Severus said. “What we need to do is create a graft. The procedure will involve making an incision on Snow Angelica\'s stem, and implanting some tissue from the Snow Usnea into that incision. Once the graft is successful, the two plants will be growing together, sharing nutrients and resources, and will... how shall I put it? Learn to tolerate each other, with each plant maintaining its unique magical properties, its unique identity.”



“Oh,” Harry murmured. “That\'s... interesting. Why hasn\'t it been tried so far?”



“It has been, many times. The same properties that make the two plants interact explosively in potions, have caused the graft to be rejected every single time.”



“Hmm,” Harry mused. “Sounds like a vicious circle... so how exactly are you planning to pull that off?”



“I\'ll probably need to create a custom spell that will allow the grafting to take place,” Severus explained. “And after that, we\'ll see.”



Harry nodded. The hostess approached their table, bringing two glasses of red wine. Harry took his, and lifted it slightly.



“To herbs, plants and the other green stuff?” Harry proposed with a mischievous smile. The eternal summer of Harry\'s green eyes flashed a wave of unexpected, gentle warmth that Severus could swear he felt with his entire being.



“Yes,” Severus mused wryly, lifting his own glass in response. “To all the green stuff.”



To Be Continued...