Lying in the infirmary was a boy. With a clean mop of black messy hair and a lightning bolt shaped scar implanted on his forehead, the Potter brat did not look anything like the same child that Severus had previously held in his arms only a mere hour before. The boy's head was propped up gently against a soft pillow and was blood free. There was no more glass, no more gashes, and no more reddened hair. The cuts were gone and in place of them were small bruises instead. His eyes were black and blue from bleeding eyes, the unfortunate result from his smashed up specs.

A shiver then chilled down Severus' spine at the memory of the boy's crimson tears. All in all though, it was a major relief for the man to see that Potter didn't look like his head had been smashed in by a large glass jar. Now it just looked like he'd been in nothing more than a pitiful quarrel with another student.

Standing beside the resting body were Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. They both glanced up from the boy's unconscious form and widened their eyes measurably shocked at the sight of the return of the old Headmaster. Both of the witches appeared to be having brutal conflicts with their own thoughts as well. From what Severus was able to clearly conclude from observing them, it was about Potter. Poppy's face wore an expression of both relief and of worry, but Severus Snape did not know what side of her he should absorb when she was to announce the updates on Potter's condition.

"Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall. Good evening to you both," said Dumbledore politely as he acknowledged the two witches.

Severus and Dumbledore briskly approached the bed where Potter's body had been placed upon. There they intently studied the boy and decided to ignore the dumbstruck expressions on the two witches' features.  Obviously they were wondering just how Severus was able to retrieve their most valued Headmaster from hiding.

Poppy's diligent job impressed both men; already Severus felt that a huge burden was lifted off of his shoulders when he saw Potter's restored appearance. In silence he watched his companion place a wrinkled hand on the boy's chest as it continued to rise up and fall down in a rhythmic motion.

Poppy cleared her throat waiting to speak. "His bruises will clear up in a few days," said the little medi-witch more solemnly than Severus would have liked to hear. Her small fingers twitched nervously around her wand as she tried to make amends.

 "I am low in my stock of bruising balm unfortunately..."

The Headmaster kindly lifted his eyes up from the unconscious form lying on the cot and smiled back at her. His blue eyes twinkled in that same divine fashion.

"Not to worry, Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said reassuring the witch and drawing away his hand from the teenager's chest, "I am ever so sure that Professor Snape will attend to your potion stock as soon as possible."

Dumbledore then fixed his gaze on Severus who was feeling very uncomfortable at the moment. He too was waiting to hear the news on Potter's condition but nodded grimly anyway in acceptance to the headmaster's request. Those stony obsidian eyes never left the unmoving figure below him all the same.

"The boy has subsided thrashing as well," blurted out Poppy. This of course, caused Severus to snap his head up from Potter's form. What else had happened to the boy since his departure? Oh! how the man felt at odds with himself now!

His pale face grew starch white as it stilled with disbelief. 'How could Potter's condition possibly worsen? Thrashing?' the man furiously asked himself. 'The boy was lifeless before I left!'

Those same tunnel black eyes, reflected with something along the lines of bewilderment and of dismay. Apprehension and perhaps even the feeling of concern weren't emotions that Severus Snape, Ex Death Eater, and the most notorious Professor at Hogwarts normally dealt with on a regular basis. It was no wonder why the unexpected situations weren't settling well with him.

In fact, anything that was ever "Potter" related never did settle well with Severus to begin with.

Oh Potter...

How could he not? Severus had looked into the boy's eyes and saw the unexpected. Now such eyes were gone. Before that, while Potter had been snooping around in his memories,  his eyes were filled to their brims with befuddled confusion, disappointment, and something else...something that Severus himself couldn't set apart from the child. Surprising enough, it wasn't all of Lily's eyes that reflected back in the boy's like he had surmised. And to be completely honest, Severus couldn't fully explain the extent to what he had actually seen in them. It was not at all like Lily this time. Although the redhead knew Severus like a book, she could not open her eyes enough to the intensity of the remorse that he has suffered for what he had done by calling her a mudblood..

For failing her competely....

In Potter's ghostly orbs so bright and so acute though was a look that Severus had never seen before, not in Lily's eyes and not in anybody else's. It was a look that somehow showed that they understood.

They had pleaded with him as well...they had begged with Severus to open up his own bitterly, shrouded, dark eyes and to just understand that he wasn't alone, that there was, indeed, somebody else who needed to be understood.  Also, that the 'somebody else' was just as abandoned and just as detached from everything and everyone as he is. So then why did it take till up to this moment precisely for him to finally able to realized what really did happened back in that penesive?

Severus frowned at himself in mutual disgust as he regrettably recalled his previous actions. For Merlin's Sake! He had acted like an ill tempered child by pointing an accusing finger at Potter for something that he himself had done! Not to say that Potter wasn't at times deserving of such blame and that he was indeed still a spoiled, insolent boy, but still...who is Severus to judge at a time like this when Potter is on his deathbed?

He had shaken the poor boy so hard that he had basically forced the fear into those miserable eyes. Eyes in which Severus were certain weren't all Lily's then. In fact, he was certain that the expression of fear on Potters face had once belonged to another boy a long time ago. That particular boy back then, Severus was certain.. was him.

Having not the strength to deny this, all that was left to do was to force Potter to fear him and to never ever look at him in that unreal way again. To not understand Severus was so very easy to do, but Potter wouldn't have any of his Professor's rubbish. No matter how much Severus wished that the boy would remain ignorant of his past, he would not. He understood everything and completely.

"Thrashing?" questioned Severus coolly.

His face remained impassive but his eyes had showed otherwise. The medi-witch sighed in defeat and her expression grew even drearier. It was only then that the Potions Master's face stilled and hardened enough to resemble that of stone. Throughout the matter, the man was gravelly trying to bury the odd feelings away with his lingering thoughts. Severus was getting such horrible vibes from this situation and they were really starting to become very unbearable for him.

"Yes. I had to place a binding charm over his body to cease him from doing harm to himself and I had also given him a calming draft on top of the matter.", explained Poppy, "The poor dear had quite a high fever as well."

Severus glared impatiently at the medi-witch as he crossed his arms over his chest. Was she actually going to do something productive instead of just standing around immobile? His jaw interlocked in place as he scrutinized the resting child properly and made certain that the small chest continued to raise and fall at a steady pace.

‘The boy had ran a fever too?' wondered he, not able to keep away the unwieldy urge to caress Potter in his arms in order to insure that he was safe. For some strange reason, Severus wasn't trusting Poppy's judgment right at the moment.

He must not have been thinking straight either, because within seconds the man had instinctively uncrossed his arms, took a protective hand, and ran his elongated fingers through Potter's messy black mop. With an almost gentle touch, he pushed the dark fringes of hair away from the boy's face and pressed his cool palm against Potter's forehead to feel for heat. What he felt to his dismay, was a rather perspiring sensation which had transfered itself onto his palm like a deadly plague. The boy's head was steaming!

" Oh for merlin's sake, Poppy, he's burning up! Have you not administrated a fever reducer to him yet" snapped the man furiously. Obviously he couldn't stop the boiling concern that was driving him mad.

This had not been the first today that Professor Snape had a staring crowd of imbeciles watching his absurd, inane reactions.

Severus scowled ignoring the gapping fools in the room and instead, focused his attention on Poppy's incompatibilities dealing with Potter. There was no doubt that he should not have left her alone with the boy when she clearly needed some assistance. Potter's case might have been too difficult for Poppy to handle single handily. Even though she was one the best mediwitches that had come to Hogwarts in decades, she could have used Severus' skilled hand.

The woman had done fine jobs with her patients. Potter had been unconscious here numerous times, and there had never been much of a hitch then. Something had to be wrong. Severus supplied most of the witch's potion stocks on a regular basis after all, but could she have possibly run out of fever reducing potion already? The man paused in thought to wonder when the last time that he had supplied her with necessary potions until the scolding voice smacked him out of his senses.

"Well of course I have," rebuked Poppy looking insulted. "But the boy's body has not responded to it as it should. Luckily, his fever did happen to drop a few degrees and he is now in a more stable condition than he has been."

Professor McGonagall, who was standing at the medi-witch's side, appeared to explode with concern for her young, lion cub who was still lying unconsciously before her.

"Poppy flooed me in from my office not too long before your arrivals," informed the older witch. Her square framed glasses gleamed suspiciously at Severus who remained unmoved by her static demeanor.

The older woman's jaw tightened in anticipation, "I do believe that an explanation on the cause of my ward's state is in order, Severus."

Without a doubt, Snape collectively raised an eyebrow at her, his mouth was opened and ready to allow a dry comment easily escape his tongue. However, all action to do so was brought to a halt by the meddlesome old man's raised hand.

"And an exclamation you will receive in due time, Minerva. Questions for Professor Snape about Mr. Potter's accident will be held for a later time of discussion as I must be going soon. Hogwarts is no longer a place to handle Order business effectively," lightly stated the Headmaster with a frown.

Dumbledore then turned to Severus and held his gaze for a moment. Something then had stired inside him. Up till this hour, Severus couldn't understand why he felt this way. He thought that he would be rid of such odd feelings by now, especially after he had his little ‘chat' with Dumbledore. But no, Severus felt those same unyielding, uneasy feelings swirling around provocatively inside his chest. What startled the man most about them was the fact that they were towards James Potter's spawn; the product of his childhood enemy. Still, how could such a boy who was identical to his censurable father in every way by chance worm his way through his own concerns?

"But I do believe that it is wise to use our time conveniently to learn about what has become of young Mr. Potter's state of being. Severus has thoroughly explained to me that the boy's condition is of dire importance and could be quite serious. I must trust his instincts on this matter thus it is the reason why I have returned for this short period of time. Poppy, if you could enlighten us with the specific details regarding young Harry."

Severus was beginning to become impatient as he stood right before the other professors. Certainly this Potions Master did not need to be defended! He gritted his teeth at this, wishing the medi-witch would just explain already; and that the damn guilt that was starting to bubble up again would finally cease to occur. The little medi-witch jumped at Dumbledore's words as she watched the man's wrinkled finger tips make their way down to caress the unconscious boy's hair.

"Certainly, Albus..." Minerva reluctantly bowed her head in acceptance to the Headmaster's request. Now wasn't the time for arguing when her ward's wellbeing was at stake.

Crossed lips twitched into something of a smug smile as the hooked noise man watched the other professor abandon attempt to hammer questioning him. After discarding his ex Professor, Snape distinctively lifted up his chin and waited for the medi-witch to reveal her diagnostic on Potter. Poppy's small beady eyes darted from side to side, making the Potions Master feel even more agitated than he already was from the commotion. His eyes narrowed at her as if he was going to challenge the news that was coming.

The three adults remained silent as they all waited patiently for their nurse to continue on. Poppy set down her wand on the boy's table side and clasped her hands together tightly.

"Mr. Potter is currently suffering from a form severe head trauma. He has quiet a serious concussion I am afraid but nothing that won't heal in due time. There has been excessive damage done to the boy's head, the left side of his body is badly bruised up as well. His brain has suffered a lot of internal bleeding which may have led to permanent damage or even death if Professor Snape hadn't gotten the boy to me in time."

All eyes in the room drifted towards Severus whose own gaze stayed transfixed on the unconscious being below him. His pitiless black orbs filled up with something strong... but alien, and so he had enclosed all thoughts inside himself in order to shield away the dreadful truth, the very thing that was eating away at his conscious mind.

Potter could have died because of him...

Naturally speaking of the boy in dieing matters unsettled the four of them. At this the nurse allowed the silence to stay for a while. Dumbledore withdrew his hand away from the boy's head and brought it to his beard. McGonagall looked crossed and absolutely nonplussed with herself. Severus continued to stare at the child; Lily's son looked more like a child than anything else now as he slept there on the cot so peacefully yet so very much broken.

Out of all of the children that the Potion's Master had came across in all his years of teaching, not a single one of them has unhinged him as much as Potter has. It just happened to be petulant Potter who had the ability to glare daggers at him whenever Severus gave the boy one of his own infamous cold hearted lash of tongue. And how can such a boy be so defiant when Severus' presence alone had the ability to drive his own seventh year Slytherins up a tree? Well... he had endlessly tormented Potter since the boy's first year; maybe he did have his reasons to resent his Potion's Professor despite all that Severus had concluded over the years.

Maybe he was starting to see things all from a different perspective now? He still had to wonder though why the boy didn't fear him in the same manner that his other students do. Severus had to think back for a moment and then out of nowhere, the memory had smacked him in the head more intensely than that jar of dead cockroaches did to the 'boy wonder.' To his discovery, he had stirred up full blown out terror inside the boy only a few hours prior to now. Potter's boyish face was famished in fear even before Severus was about to rip off his arm in the pensieve. He has spun the boy around ruthlessly enough to rack out his brains due to the blissful anger that consumed him....

....and it had been priceless to commit, really.

It was not before long that Poppy awoken Severus out of his thoughts.

"The part of his brain that was bruised was specifically was where all his long term memories are stored," the nurse looked at the other's perplexed looks. Dumbledore's eyes traveled multiple times from beneath his half-moon specs from the boy to Severus. Then the old man did something that left Severus, Poppy and Minerva bemusemed. The Headmaster chuckled.

"Ah," exclaimed Dumbledore. "So I take it that young Harry is going to be rather delirious about his surroundings and the people around him?"

Poppy's lips drew a thin line of worry. "Well yes," she said rather confused by the headmaster's reaction. "But the extent of the memory loss is unknown until he awakens. Mr. Potter seems to be suffering from a muggle condition called amnesia. Luckily, and since it is indeed, a muggle condition, we do have the proper potions to-"

"A memory replenishing potion perhaps would suffice," informed Severus  finally settling into relaxation. Finally. It was about time...

"Of course, certain enhancements can be made to it to insure that we don't have a completely absent minded, blundering Potter brat on our hands," he hinted with a cruel up turn of his lip.

"Yes Professor Snape, a memory potion should be given to him once a week." agreed the finicky witch, more positive than she had been before. "However, we must take caution here, the normal amount of the potion might trigger further bleeding in his brain. A small dosage of a memory potion is acceptable for the end of this week and we will slowly increase the dosage every time afterwards. His mind is still very weak so I do say that it will be for the best if he remains in the infirmary for a few nights so that I can monitor him properly. "

Professor McGonagall came closer to the boy's cot to touch the sweltering forehead in the same fashion that Severus had done before. Only this time there was an addition of affectionately ruffling Potter's dark locks of untamed hair. The corners of her mouth drew a fine line of worry.

"How long, Poppy," inquired Minerva. Her hands trembled as she jostled them around in the boy's messy mop, "How long do you think he is going to be like this?"

Poppy fluttered her eyes lashes rapidly. Nerves were getting the best of her as Severus could see.

"Depending on how much memory he lost, it could be days, weeks...,"the nurse glanced at the Potion's Master and fretted. Severus scruntized his eyes at her not wanting to hear the worst. Poppy continued, "...months, possibly a year even with potions..."

Severus glowered at the women and then down at the boy who was becoming a burden too large to carry. The little pain in the neck was already a dead weight on the man's shoulders enough as it was. He was to protect the boy-who-lived; and this child was somehow supposed to survive to defeat the Dark Lord one day.

And now he had to deal with an even more incompatible, oblivious Potter! The Potion's Master scuffed at his own thoughts. Who knew so much was at state?

‘As if Potter isn't ignorant enough as it is'

"That shall not become an issue," said Severus allowing his voice to become noticeably waspish. "I have ways to enhance the potion so that it will accommodate Potter's condition properly," he declared just as convincingly. He was going to heal the infernal brat as quickly as possible even if it killed him in the process.

The little medi-witch's face tensed, "Well of course, Professor, I am sure that would be highly beneficial for Mr. Potter, but do take precaution. I will want the boy's mind to be completely healed before an updated memory potion is prepared."

Snape raised an approving eyebrow at the witch.

"Of course," Snape said sleekly. He then glanced at Dumbledore who had clasped both hands together and was looking eagerly to each of his companions.

"Very well," joyfully spoken up the Headmaster, "I believe a reviving potion is in order for young Harry. After getting a fair glimpse at his condition we shall see to arrangements for the future. Minerva, Harry's Aunt and Uncle should be notified of the situation. Also, I believe Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley will be concerned for their comrade, please be discrete with them."

"What about Dolores?" McGonagall stated seriously, "She has been after him for weeks."

"Yes, Headmaster I do agree with Minerva on that. Mr. Potter has been acting as a thorn in our new headmistress' side," commented Severus effortlessly. His lip curled up in triumph, "as well as mine."

Honestly, the boy was becoming far more difficult to deal with everyday. A clueless Potter was still a Potter after all.

"Dolores Umbridge shall remain ignorant of his condition. I do have a plan, but Severus, if you please revive our young ward from his slumber first." The older wizard's order did not contain any force, but nevertheless the little charm in his voice did not go unnoticed by Severus.

'Damn it, Albus,' silently scowled the Professor as he emitted a low growl before pulling a small bottle out from his black robes. He held it up for them all to see. Stalking closer to Potter, Severus then carefully maneuvered the boy into a sitting up position. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey came to his assistance with grace.

With two bony fingers, the Potion's Master tilted back the teenager's head and uncorked the tiny vial with his free. In one swift motion, he poured the potion down Potter's throat and coaxed the liquid through to the stomach by rubbing the boy's neck in a downward fashion. After the draft was administrated, Severus stepped back quickly and retreated to the Headmaster's side to view from a distance. Now all they had to do was wait for the results. His stomach launched as Potter became alive, but died inside all the same when a totally different Potter opened those wonderful, emerald eyes.

 
.....................................................

In the darkness, a child thrived. The lost boy sat contently curled up in a ball in his tunnel of darkness, yet he didn't know why. In ways for him, the darkness gave him comfort by hiding him away from all the yelling, all the harmful things that were being said, and the horrid images that were banging on the back doors of his mind.

He couldn't open the doors and let the bad things out. No, no he would not!

They would catch him, kill him perhaps. Bringing pain was what he feared the most, there was nothing but pain that was lurking behind the trecherous doors. Instead, the boy stayed within the shadows where there was nothing. The nothingness welcomed his presence with grace and at least he was safe from the bad things behind those doors. In ways the boy had melted inside the nothingness, he was the nothingness. Then all of a sudden, there was a strange light that was pouring into his tunnel. The boy didn't understand why the brightness was intruding his darkness. He liked his darkness very much, and wanted to stay there. Shadows had promised protection, to kept him unexposed. This light, unfortunately, was way too powerful; it was exposing him, stripping his soul naked.

His head tilted away from the light in protest, he wanted his darkness back! The boy has been in the dark for such a long time, one couldn't want anything to differ! Such things were so confusing. He hated it.

What was even more confusing were the funny shapes that were blurring in his vision; he couldn't see them very well nor was he able make out what the shapes were exactly. Then to his surprise, one of them moved and another one spoke. The boy snapped his eyes open to gasped at the scene presented.

Where was he? What were these... things?

But most importantly...

Who was he?

"Easy there, Harry. My boy, everything is going to be alright," said one of the fuzzy blobs. The boy squinted as he tried to make out the odd purple form. He could tell that it had a large silver beard and that it was older than the rest of them.

But should trust such a strange figure?

"Where are Mr. Potter's glasses?" exclaimed a voice of a sturdy, but aged woman, "Perhaps the child wouldn't be so frightened if he could see us more clearly."

Harry? Mr Potter? Who is that?

The boy felt panic rise up into his chest. Being cornered by all of the strange forms had finally overwhelmed him. Being out of his tunnel just as well had also made him feel so vulnerable and unprotected. He tried to withdraw away from the figures, but to no avail did he.  Another blob came into his view; this one was smaller and spoke in a higher pitched voice.

"On his night table...Here, allow me..."

The small fuzzy form drifted over to they boy's side, plucked something off of the table and reached towards him. The movement had caught him off guard as a hand was placed on his shoulder. Letting out an enormous cry full of fear, the boy then fallen from where he was seated and had landed on his bum with a thud. Luckily, the pain did not travel far. Instead, he kept backing away from the forms until his back felt the solid wall.

‘Trapped' he thought as his heart thumped wildly against his chest.

Green eyes widened in terror as the strange, fuzzy forms enclose on him slowly. His knees were then unconsciously brought to his chest for self protection as wrapped his arms around them. Burying his head between his legs, the 'child' pretended that he was back in his tunnel where he was safe.

But pretending was simply not enough...

He was scared; terrified even, and he was wishing that they would all go away and leave him alone. Being alone was better off for the boy; at least he would be safe. It reminded him so much of his darkness...

"Potter!"

Out from a short distance rang out a voice that was clearly spitting out dislike. The boy lifted up his head from his knees to see where this different voice was coming from. It sounded angry, yet so very upset.

"Stop acting like a fool this instant!" demanded the voice with a sneer, "These people are not here to harm you, Potter!" it roared again.

The form was really angry at him, but then again at the same time it sounded like it was trying to plead. Something started to click within the boy's head about the voice, it sounded so familiar... but also very distant in memory. Still, all the boy wanted to do was bury his head back into the darkness, but then he strongly reconsidered that when he glanced up again to see a figure dressed down in black standing behind the others.

This form was just... different; it just wasn't like the other ones that tried to attack him before. Instead this figure kept its distance, it was as if it had feared the child in someway. That, or resented being near...but why?

The boy squinted his eyes at the form, he could feel that it's own were transfixed on him as well.

There was no doubt he still felt uneasy about this figure and it did not help that he was having a hard time identifying if it was real or not. The black blob was very different than what the other forms were making him feel, probably because it was withdrawn and aloof. How astonishing is this form though? thought the boy as he watched it pace back and forth. It was so strange, yet so very sad...

It was making the child wonder, made him sense what was right... and what was so wrong.

 ...................................................


Severus just couldn't take anymore of this nonsense. He had it, this was the last straw. He could not stand seeing Potter not acting like his cheeky, Gryffindor self. It was surprisingly unsettling the Potions Professor's nerves to watch the strange boy yelped in fright because of Poppy's movements. Potter had also created a spectacular scene as he scrambled off the bed and cower up against the wall in terror like an abused animal.

By then Severus' temper had already risen to its peak.

Why couldn't the boy just snap out of it? Surely he couldn't have forgotten everything!

Due to Potter's ignorance, Snape had shouted at the child as if it may trigger some sort of spark in his brain, but to his own dismay it did nothing of the sort. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at his spy, Minerva dropped her jaw and stared dumbstruck by Severus' inane reactions.

"Really? Severus!" scolded Poppy beating the Head of Gyrffindor to the point. The woman looked like she was going to attempt to wash out his mouth with soap, "He doesn't have any memory of any of us! How do you suppose that shouting at the boy is going to get you anywhere with him?"

Severus took in a deep breath to collect and sort out his thoughts. He composed his demeanor brilliantly in order to radiate off that poise.

"Well if you are expecting me to coddle him then you are mistaken," he brandished smoothly.

Bleak eyes then fell down onto Potter who proceeded to cower in the corner and then back at the medi-witch in a mockingly way, "Let this be a reminder that your own attempts at getting anywhere with the boy had failed quite miserably..."

Severus held out his hand beaconing the glasses from Madam Pomfrey who was far too lost for words.

"His glasses, if you may," requested the Potion's Master as he curled his fingers in and out until he saw the women place Potter's specs into his palm. White fingers then enclosed around them as turned his attention towards Potter who seemed to be watching him like that of an baby fawn. What was found was that Potter's questioning expression was studying Severus very intently.

Through the squinting, Potter looked like he was contemplating about what to make of Hogwarts' most feared Potions Professor.

Severus started towards him slowly, for he had not wanted to frighten the boy anymore than he already was. However, as he approached he was beginning to notice that the child didn't fear him at all. In fact, it looked like he was rather... relieved to see that Severus was the one advancing on him and not one of the others.

Green orbs then gazed up at Severus in absolute wonder. The boy had suddenly uncurled himself and maneuvered to sit on his knees all propped up against the wall. The Potions Master cunningly smirked down seeing Potter in such a vulnerable state. The boy hadn't had a clue who he was or who he was dealing with... yet.

Oh, If Severus really wanted to take advantage of the dimwit, now was the time to do it. Potter was in a very weakened state of mind and if he was to face the Dark Lord like this, he would be hit with a the killing curse the moment he set those curious puppy dog eyes on the monster. The thought alone of the Dark Lord finding out about Potter's condition was unbearable within it's self. Severus just couldn't think of what would happen to the boy if such news got out to the cold blooded killer.

"Potter," came his stern voice which was trying to awaken the boy out of a mesmerized gaze.

The Potions master bent down so that he was at eye level with Potter and able to examine the confused face. Not much needed to be studied, Potter just sat there dumbly not knowing what to make of the situation. Severus then brought up his hand that was holding the boy's glasses. Completely uncalled for, Potter let out a short gasp and then backed away from the Potions Master as if he was suffering from a burning hex. Severus frowned down at the child.

Yes... the child.

"Potter..."tried he again, this time his voice soften marginally so that he could effectively ease the boy's nerves, "Potter, you are safe now. Nobody is going to harm you."

Inclining his head to the side, Potter remained puzzled. Severus held his impatience at bay. It was going to take all the self control in the world to contain his every, single urge to bombard insults at Potter in order to wipe that undesirable, ignorance off of the boy's innocent, child like expression.

Unfortunatly, it was easier said then done. Severus was also battling a splitting headache as well.

Wonderful, sarcastically sneered the man, Leave it up to the blasted Potter brat to make me lose such petty battles.

Severus sighed and held out the boy's glasses to him again, seeing that there was not much more left to do.

"Take the glasses, Potter," said Severus sternly. "I am sure that they are more useful to you than they are to me."

.............

To the boy's utter amazement, the Dark man, as what the boy had decided upon referring to the man as, was holding out his hand and offering him to take something. He glanced down suspiciously at the man's hand, not very sure that what he was offering him to take was safe.

Although there was something else in the boy that was telling him to not trust this man, and for good reasons!

The boy decided very quickly against such urges and that the trust was strong enough; he then brought up his own hand and reached out. Hesitantly, the boy moved his fingers closer to the Dark man's palm and received the object while being careful to avoid brushing against the other hand. The boy looked at the object through squinting eyes and then gazed back up at the one who offered, unsure of what he wanted him to do with them next.

All questions answered!

"Put them on your eyes, Potter," snarled the man through greasy curtains of hair.

Shrinking back, the boy flinched away from the harsher voice. Why was the dark man being so confusing? He seemed nice when he was calmly explaining that he wasn't going to hurt him and when he offered him glasses. Now he just sounded very ill-tempered and cruel.

The boy then noticed that the man was rubbing his temples and seemed to be intensely drained. Then the sharper voice reverted back to one of a more gentler tone, yet still stern and guiding.

"You will be able to see more clearly if you do"

The boy nodded and silently obeyed the Dark Man as he unfolded the glasses and placed them over his eyes like he was instructed to.

What the glasses did to his vision amazed him. Able to see, the child could not stop the huge grin that was forming. All of the strange figures were no longer blurry blobs. Unfortunately, the man who offered them to him looked anything but happy. The boy could now clearly see that the Dark man was indeed very dark looking. He also had a very morbid appearance, swallow skin, oily black hair that hidden his dreary eyes and rather large beak-like nose.

Why did the man look so sad? The Dark man helped him so that he could see and had also said that nobody was going to hurt him. The boy believe him, so why then did he look so withdrawn, so undone? Had the Dark man wronged the boy in some way? Is that why he looked so sad? The boy couldn't see how this was possible even though this man seemed to be a tad foul and unfeeling.

Still, he most certainly had not done anything to harm him!

The boy's face then relaxed as he glanced around the room to admire his new surroundings. He looked back up at his savior who was no longer kneeling, but standing upright and powerful.

He was tall from what the boy could see, but then again, he himself was still sitting on the floor. He couldn't be certain about how tall the man actually was unless he too stood up. For that reason alone, the boy wearisomely got to his feet, using the wall for support until he was standing fully upright just like his savior was.

When the boy was finally standing he was a little bit disappointed to see that the man had a good amount of height on him. The Dark Man was quite tall and he himself wasn't very tall at all. His savior was pleased though. He had risen one eyebrow to acknowledge the boy's willingness to obey which he seemed to find baffling for some reason. It may have been a reason that the boy at one time might have known but of course had forgotten.

The man then nodded approvingly as the boy took to his side at once. He could clearly see that the corners of his savior's lips had twitched upwards in amusement for only a moment before vanishing. The other beings in the room looked perplexed as well and feeling intimidated by this display, the child stopped following the Dark Man forward. The said child then watched closely as his savior stepped out in front of him in victory. He stuck out his chest with smug pride and tilted back his head in triumph so those glinting black eyes could survey his crowed indifferently.

"I believe...", started the Dark Man pausing to allow his eyes to scrutinize each person coolly through curtains of black greasy hair, "That from the looks of it, all Potter needed was a firm hand. After all..." smoothly stated the man again, "Memory or no memory, Potter is still Potter."

BANG!!

All heads in the room turned abruptly towards a large door to witness it swing open with great force and then slam into the back of the wall. The boy, terrified, wide eyed, and vulnerable had frozen on the spot. Panic seeped through his chest like a wild fire as he watched terrified as an enormous, bloodcurdling, black beast leap into the air and landed with a thud.

Green eyes widened tremendously as his lungs failed to breath for him. The horrid creature bounded into the room like a frantic thing. The shaggy black monster bared its pearly white fangs as it whisked through the aisle ways until it had found the correct route towards them... towards him.

He couldn't escape it; he couldn't escape the fear that began to loudly bang on the back doors inside his head. He needed to hide, somewhere, anywhere that was safe. What he needed was to get away from the rampaging beast and retreat into the darkness!

Amongst the unbearable distress that was gnawing at his intestines, a small but pronounced voice was trying to tell him something else. It was a part of him that he had failed to listen to while he was cowering inside his tunnel. It used to be his entirety, his whole self. Now it was merely a fraction, only a shattered fragment of who he used to be. Sadly, the part of him that wanted to reveal all these things were locked up behind those doors and struggling.

It was trying to tell him the correct ways to react to such fears and that he shouldn't be afraid of the beast, yet he was! How could he not be? The voice inside was warning him from doing the unexpected things as well, they were the things that his instincts were endlessly begging of him to do.

And so this boy, this ‘Potter' done something very unexpected and bizarre of what a Potter would normally not do when he was in his right mind. He cried out for the protection of his most bitter enemy.

Snape.

"SNAPE!" cried out a very hoarse voice of no one other than Harry Potter.

It was the man's name that the boy had somehow heard from behind the doors in his head, and it stuck there and refused to let go.

That name, he knew that name!!

Snape froze, his indifferent expression turned rapidly into a bewildered one. Hooded eyes that once glinted in annoyance then shifted suddenly into that of startled bliss. As he spun around on his heel to stare at the boy, his impassive facade already drenched itself in complete shock with what he had just heard coming from Potter.

The boy, who was more frightened then anything else, found himself flinging his body forward and clutching onto the black, billowing robes for dear life. With no reluctance at all, he buried his face into the man's robes and inhaled deeply to allow the sweet aroma of rue and sage fill his nostrils.

Calming was such a scent, one that was so familiar...

"Potter! What on bloody earth-?!!" but Snape was too absorbed with grabbing Potter's arms to remove them from his robes. He looked caught between the line of disgust and confusion. Not only was he livid, but he was pushing the hysterical child away from him roughly.

He didn't want him...

"NO!" the boy croaked from his voice growing weaker as he begged for protection. The man in black was furious at him now. His pallid face lit up in pure rage which had somehow only made the boy hold onto him tighter.

"Unhand me this instant," spat Snape in a deadly whisper, "You derisory little-"

"PLEASE!" his knuckles turned white as he refused to let go of the fronts of the man's robes. "Just..please..." he said in barely over whisper. This Snape was his last chance...

The raging animal was still coming at them at an alarmingly fast speed and the boy was in need of his darkness, his safe zone. He then gazed deeply into Snape's stony eyes with desperation hanging on a thread . He was searching for something, anything at all... but the man's pallid face was still unmoving and impassive as ever.

The two remained fixed on the spot. The boy remained grabbing onto the fronts of Snape's robes and Snape kept callously staring back at the boy. The only time those unfeeling eyes left him was when they boredly flickered over to the black creature. The said creature within seconds had undergone a swift transformation from beast to man.

Impossible! Then the man who was once a beast, retained the same furious appearance that made the boy be on the verge of tears. He glanced up suddenly to see the man-in-black eyeing him erratically, his calculating gaze flickered back and forth from the wild man back to him multiple times.

Then something changed. There had been something that snapped out of place in the apathetic man's expression. Something was broken. Something else might have been made too, because  just as a sudden sob escaped from the boy's throat, Snape's hooded eyes churned in bewilderment accompanied with some far away longingful look. That stony expression swiftly changed after he closed his eyes defeated at a large. Opening them again, Snape wordlessly nudged the boy behind him. With a touch that was shockingly gentle he allowed the desperate, gripping hands to transfer onto the back of his robes instead of the fronts.

The boy heaved out one last sob, this time he was relieved. He then closed his own eyes, pressed his face into the man's robes, and enjoyed the feel of the soft black fabric rub against his cheek. Enjoying the warmth radiating off of Snape, he pressed himself closer into the man's back to be consumed into darkness again.

The feeling was familiar; yes ,the boy knew that he had felt this way before, yet little pieces of him kept on telling him that this was wrong. At this moment, however, it couldn't have felt anymore right.

The boy was safe, it didn't matter that he didn't know this man Snape nor did he care that the others in the room were arguing. No, it no longer mattered that the strange animal man was blowing up into fits of anger in front of the silver bearded man. It didn't matter that he was speaking frantically of this ‘Harry' person. All that did now was that he, ‘Potter' was well protected by the tranquility of the darkness, his darkness, his Snape.

And that was all that had mattered to him.