Monday morning brought with it a bit of a surprise when Harry and Hermione walked into Defence. Since Remus had not yet returned from his mission, Harry had assumed the class would just be cancelled until the Defence Professor returned. Harry was stopped dead in his tracks as he saw his father sitting at Remus’ desks, reading through schedules and teaching lessons as the rest of the class filed in and took their seats. Harry hadn’t really spoken to the man much since his grounding started that day, but he thought he’d at least have mentioned he was subbing for Remus in Defence.

The second surprise of the morning burst through the door a minute after the tardy bell rang, making most of the class jump in fright. Severus looked up at the commotion and spotted his godson holding out a scroll of parchment towards him as he walked up to the desk.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor. I had to get this signed by the Headmaster before I could attend classes again,” Draco said quietly as Severus read the scroll then handed it back to the Slytherin.

“Very well, Mr. Malfoy. Find a seat,” Severus said as he waved towards the few desks that had remained unoccupied. Draco looked around and spotted Harry, then promptly sat on the other side of the room without a backward glance.

The entire class was staring at Draco, dumbfounded that the Slytherin had recovered enough from a three month coma and a serious bout of amnesia to attend classes once more. Some whispering broke out, but stopped abruptly as Severus stood and moved to the front of the class, mentally taking note of the three students who were not in attendance.

“Professor Lupin is away due to an emergency. There’s no telling when he’ll return, but until then, I am taking over his sixth and seventh year Defence classes, and Headmaster Dumbledore is taking over the rest. I’ve read through the lesson plans set out for this term, but I think, perhaps, that I will change things up a bit.

“As I’m sure you’re all aware, unless you live under a rock, the Wizarding world has been in a very precarious state for a while now. Dark forces are trying to take over and topple Wizarding society as we know it today. It is of utmost importance that you, the next generation to face this upcoming evil, learn to defend yourselves from the challenges you will inevitably face.

“However, there is another side to this Art; offensive defence. Learning to block attacks, shield yourself from curses, and counter-act hexes will only get you so far when faced with a duel or battle of any sort. Most people, the ignorant ones I may add, associate offensive defence with Dark Magic. It’s a foolish misconception that I hope to rid all of you of in due time. You can attack without ill-intent and still achieve a result that both weakens your opponent and protects you from further attack without injuring, maiming, or killing. In Charms, you learn all about counter-curses and anti-jinx, but they fail to accompany the lesson with what you are disarming and reversing. You cannot successfully block a spell that you do not first understand, in practise or theory. You’ve all been through five and a half years of Defence, though unfortunately your instructors have been less than satisfactory, with the exception of Professor Lupin. It is time that you begin to learn the other side.”

Severus had moved all around the class, circling desks, gliding down aisles, and generally making the entire class fidgety and uncomfortable as he drawled on with his lecture. He had gotten them right where he wanted them.

“You will be placed into groups of three by me, and will begin a project. The goal of this project is to defend against the attack of an opponent using offensive spells only as your defence, while the third person must use defensive spells to help protect you should your offense be insufficient. Does everyone understand?”

There was a murmur around the room that could have been counted as assent, but Harry’s hand shot up immediately. He waited patiently as Severus tried to ignore him as long as possible before finally sighing heavily and nodding at Harry to speak.

“Sir, what exactly qualifies as an offensive spell; any hex, curse or jinx, excluding Dark Magic?”

“If it will weaken, disarm, or stop your opponent from attacking, then it qualifies. For example, if I were to send a burning hex at you, what would you respond with? Remember, offensive spells only,” Severus said, fixing his son with an intense look. He hoped that Harry would be able to give a sufficient answer, or else they all might perish for his ignorance.

“Well, since I can’t defend myself with a block or shield, I’d respond with Aguamenti Maximus, which should counter-act the fire element of your spell while sending a flood of water at you, slowing you down considerably for counter-attack,” Harry responded confidently, knowing that Severus was trying to challenge him. He knew Defence; that was his forte. He’d win at this.

“And what if I were to respond with a Flash-freeze spell?”

Harry’s brow furrowed as he thought about that. Why would his father want to turn mostly harmless water into deadly spear-like ice crystals?

“That would be a very bad idea, sir, seeing as the water coming towards you would turn to icy spikes that would most likely kill you.”

Severus nodded, trying not to show his pride at Harry’s answer. The boy clearly knew his stuff, but that didn’t mean he had to praise him like some dotting father. “Very good, Potter. Five points to Gryffindor.”

Harry’s eyes went wide as Severus gave him points...for the very first time, he was positively sure. So maybe his father wasn’t quite as angry with him as he originally thought.

“Now, time for breaking you into groups. Potter, Weasley, and Malfoy will form one group. Granger, Parkinson, and Bulstrode, you’re group two. Zabini, Thomas, and Longbottom, group three. Nott, Finnigan, and Goyle, group four. Brown, Patil, and Crabbe, group five. Anymore questions? Get to work, and use your common sense; no harmful spells.”

Harry groaned, sending a glare at his father, which was pointless as the man had turned his back to him to walk back to the front of the classroom. Of course he’d be grouped with the best friend who currently despised him and a boyfriend who wouldn’t even look at him properly. Ron’s expression mirrored Harry’s, while Draco just stared down at the ground, waiting for someone to do something.

“Potter, Weasley! What are you waiting for?” Severus snapped as he walked past their group while monitoring the rest of the students starting their own duels. He was lucky they had extended the Defence classroom for practical lessons.

Harry and Ron both fixed the Professor with matching glares again, making it hard for Severus to keep his laughter in. Draco continued to stare at the floor, looking despondent and wishing he hadn’t started classes again after all.

“Weasley, you’re the attacker; Potter, you’re the defender; and Malfoy, you’ll be using offensive spells only. I want to see you at it.”

Ron and Draco both moved into duelling stances, Harry off to the side of Draco as they both raised their wands. Draco finally looked up, a split second before Ron threw a blasting curse at him. “Confringo!”

Draco slashed his wand nearly before the words had left Ron’s mouth and shouted, “Ventus Maximus!” A strong gust of wind redirected the curse back at Ron, who ducked just in time and let the curse hit a bookshelf behind him, which promptly exploded all over the place.

“Please try to keep the classroom intact!” Severus shouted, sending a powerful Reparo at the bookshelf and placing all the books back on the shelf.

Ron recovered quickly, jabbing his wand towards Draco with an intense look of concentration on his face. “Incarcerous!” Large chains sprang forth from Ron’s wand, surprising everyone as the curse usually conjured strong rope.

Draco nearly panicked as the chains came flying straight at his face. He couldn’t think of an offensive spell that would counter heavy chains sailing towards him, and when it was nearly too late to stop them at all, Harry stepped in front of him and brandished his wand, also using his body to shield Draco should his spell fail.

“Protego!”

There was a loud clang as the chains hit some invisible barrier surrounding Harry and Draco. Somehow Draco had ended up clinging to the back of Harry’s robes, his face buried against the fabric. He felt extremely foolish and tried to pull away from Harry, but the Gryffindor turned around and grabbed his chin to keep him from turning away.

“Are you alright, Draco? Merlin, I thought those chains were going to suffocate you.” Harry quickly turned on Ron, who looked frightened of his own spell work. “What the hell was that, Ron? Since when does a binding-spell conjure chains?” Harry asked Severus, who had banished the heavy chains and removed the shielding spell around his son and godson quickly.

“The binding-spell will produce chains only when an extreme amount of magic is put into the spell. Obviously, Weasley has a strong desire to watch Malfoy be crushed to death by chains. I said no harmful spells, Weasley. Twenty points from Gryffindor.”

“But I had no idea that would happen! I was just concentrating too hard, honestly!” Ron exclaimed, stung that the Professor had taken points because of an accident. He truly had no idea concentrating that much on a binding-spell had such potentially deadly effects.

“Then perhaps you should have paid more attention in Charms class, Mr. Weasley. It has been twenty years since my sixth year Charms class and even I remember learning the sensitivity of extreme concentration on specific spells. Since Weasley is determined to cause injury, Potter will be the attacker instead,” Severus said with a stern look at his son, who looked like he wanted to protest immediately.

“I can’t curse Draco,” Harry ground out quietly, hoping that only his father would hear him. He couldn’t hex his boyfriend, not after everything he’d been through that summer with being attacked by a barrage of spells.

“You can and will, Potter, or it’ll be fifty more points,” the Potions Master snapped, getting extremely tired of the attitudes he was encountering. Why had he agreed to do this in two different classes for the foreseeable future?

Harry took a deep breath to control the anger that so wanted to spring forth and curse his own father instead of his boyfriend. He turned back around to face Draco, who was focussing just over his left shoulder instead of meeting his eyes. Harry used the anger that had been building up to muster up his pride and shoot a curse at Draco.

“Aguamenti Maximus!” A giant wall of water rose up and curled over itself, heading straight for Draco, and Ron, who looked absolutely terrified that he might have to somehow counter-act it with a defensive spell of some sort.

“Vomica Velociter Ostendo!” Draco moved his wand in a complicated arch and slashing movement that Harry had sworn he’d seen before, but couldn’t remember what it did. He figured it out when his tidal wave of water turned into a massive wall of boiling water, and came flying back at him.

Harry could only think of one option, even though he had told his father it would be a stupid move mere minutes ago. He didn’t have time to think just then; he preferred not to be cooked alive, thanks. “Congelo Cursim!” The wave of water suddenly turned into a wall of ice, which shattered and sent sharp ice crystals flying through the air.

“Protego Totalum!” Severus shouted and he whipped his wand around his head in a wide arch, sending a massive shield to protect all of the students and himself. The ice crystals bounced off the shield and made a horribly loud crashing and clattering noise as they all fell to the floor, shattering even more upon impact. Severus banished the mess of ice and fixed his pointed glare on his son and godson.

“It is possible for your group to not maim or kill anyone this morning? No harmful spells means no potentially harmful spells as well! Clearly we are going to have to review more before the practical lessons continue. Everyone put your wands away and get out your books. Read chapter eighteen on offensive defence magic until the end of the lesson. Granger, you’re in charge. Potter, Malfoy, in the hall – now.”

The entire class groaned and sent glares at both Harry and Draco, who were determinedly not looking at each other as they followed Severus out of the classroom and down the corridor a ways until the Potions Professor-turned-Defence Professor stopped abruptly and cast a privacy charm around them.

“I’m sorry Professor, but I have a horrible headache, can I –” Draco began, but was cut off by a sharp gesture from the Potions Master.

“Silence! I do not care about your lover’s tiff or what have you, but I do care if you two end up unintentionally killing each other because you’re both being immature fools. You both need to concentrate and stop letting your emotions get in the way. If you’d been thinking properly, you’d have known not to boil that water Draco, as it would result in horrific injuries, or you’d have known to use a drought charm on the boiling water instead of a flash-freeze charm, Harry. These are the types of things you may face after Hogwarts, maybe even before. You cannot let matters of the heart effect you so much.”

“You’re such a hypocrite! Who was the one throwing a fit and drowning in Firewhiskey when Remus left to go on his mission? Maybe you should heed your own advice, sir,” Harry snapped, surprised with himself for being so nasty. He could understand his father’s emotional display after Remus had left, but being told ‘do and I say, not as I do’ was not something Harry did well with.

Severus’ eyes slammed shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for patience from someone – anyone – or else he might throttle his own child. The nerve of the boy was beyond irritating and it had pushed his patience too far already. His eyes snapped open after a few seconds and pinned Harry with the strongest glare he possessed. Harry cowed slightly and looked away, looking properly ashamed.

“I am not talking about myself or Remus, Harry; I am talking about the both of you. Remus and I are both adults, and we handle such things much differently. Do not pretend that you understand anything I have been through, because you have no idea. Talk it out, get over it, break up; whatever – I don’t care, but get your act together.” Severus stormed back in the direction of the Defence classroom, leaving Harry and Draco alone in the corridor, still refusing to meet each other’s eyes.

“He’s right, Harry...”

“I know, Draco. Look, I’m sorry alright, I never meant for you to get hurt by keeping that memory to myself. I guess I – ”

“No – stop, Harry. I meant he’s right, we should...we should break up,” Draco whispered the last part, finally looking up at Harry. His grey eyes looked so haunted and full of pain, and Harry felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“What...? Draco – no, please! You haven’t even let me explain properly!” Harry exclaimed, his voice breaking at the end as he saw the anguish in Draco’s expression. He knew he must look quite similar as tears gathered in his eyes and threatened to spill over.

“I don’t think I can forgive you for this, Harry, whatever the reason. Besides, I need to focus on school and getting all of my memories back and you’re...you’re just a distraction,” Draco said plainly, keeping as much emotion out of his voice as he could, though he was clearly upset.

Harry jerked back as if Draco had physically slapped him. He could have sworn his heart had literally cracked in two in that instant as his chest ached horribly. “I’m just a distraction? So all that talk about you loving me, everything we’ve been through – it’s all been one big sham?”

“I don’t know, Harry! I just...I need some time, alright? Just a little bit of time on my own for a while. I...I do love you, but I don’t exactly know what that means right now. Just give me some time...” Draco pleaded, feeling worn out and stretched too thin. He hated seeing Harry so crushed, but he was overwhelmed. It was all proving to be too much. His head was pounding, and all he wanted to do was find a dark corner, curl up, and die.

“Why does it have to mean anything, Draco? I love you, and all it means is that I’d do anything in the world for you if it meant keeping you safe and happy, such as pulling you out of a hopeless coma and giving you your life back. But I’ll also give you this, Draco, just because you asked nicely. You can have all the time in the world, because while you’re figuring out what loving me means, I have to save the rest of the world from a raving lunatic, and I’ll probably die as well in the process. So you enjoy that time alone, alright?” Harry said quietly, feeling his entire body shake with emotion as he walked away from Draco, who had dissolved into tears and slumped against the wall behind him.

Harry walked away. He kept walking, and walking, and walking; never stopping. He had no idea where he was going, or if he was even going anywhere specific. All he knew was that if he fell from the highest tower of Hogwarts just then, he wouldn’t have minded one bit. Bells rang, students passed him, hours passed him, and he kept walking. Upstairs, downstairs, inside, outside; he just walked. Finally when he reached the Owlery, Harry stopped walking, and sat in the open windowsill. The frigid air of January bit at his exposed skin, but he didn’t care in the least. He jolted slightly as Hedwig flew down from the rafters and landed on his shoulder, giving a doleful hoot as she nudged his ear with her cold beak.

“I wish I could just fly away, like an owl. I’d fly away into the night, and never look back. I’d get away from it all; the expectations, the stress, the heartache, the disappointment I caused my father. Someday, I’ll fly away from it all,” Harry whispered to Hedwig, who nudged his cheek with her feathery head and gave another hoot, this one sounding sympathetic and comforting.

Harry sat in that windowsill until the sun set and the stars and moon glittered against the charcoal background. He knew he had to return to the dungeons soon, or else Severus would send out a search party and ground him for the rest of his life. Uncurling himself from the uncomfortable windowsill, Harry gave Hedwig one last pet on the head before returning her to the rafters and making his way out of the Owlery and down to the dungeons, where he hoped to crawl in bed, fall asleep, and never wake up again.

S~S~S~S

Just as Harry expected, Severus was waiting in the sitting room for him, looking thunderous and ready to scream for hours. Harry just wanted to go to bed and drown in his own misery, but he doubted he’d get off so easily. He didn’t care if his father grounded him for life; there was no reason to leave his room anymore anyways.

“Where the hell have you been all day, Harry James Potter?”

Whoa, did he just use my full name? I’m done for...Harry thought with a groan. He didn’t bother to sit down anywhere, as he was hoping Severus would scream at him for a few minutes and send him to bed. Oh yeah, his answer. “I was in the Owlery all day. Can I please go to bed?”

“No, you may not. You missed all of your classes on the first day of the term! That’s a wonderful way to start out. What on earth did you say to Draco as well? He looked completely distraught for the entire day after Defence.”

Harry felt the burning behind his eyes again, but he took a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m sorry; I just needed some time to think. Draco...Draco broke up with me, so you got what you wanted. Can I please go to bed, Dad? I just want to sleep...”

Severus had not expected that. He knew Draco was upset with Harry, but he never expected the blonde to break things off with his son. His anger abated slightly; he knew how Harry must feel, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“That is not what I wanted, Harry. I’m sorry to hear that. You will not miss another class this term unless mortally injured or extremely sick, do you understand?”

Harry nodded slowly, feeling relieved that Severus’ anger seemed to dim after he found out what had happened. “Yes sir, I understand. Can I – ”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Severus cut Harry off before he could ask to go to bed again. He was fairly sure the Gryffindor hadn’t eaten anything since the single slice of toast this morning, and he wasn’t about to let the boy starve himself.

“Not since breakfast.”

“Dobby!”

There was a loud pop as the house elf appeared in their sitting room. “You called for Dobby, Master Professor Snape, sir?”

“Can you please prepare a light dinner for Harry, something that won’t upset his stomach?” Severus asked of the elf, who was already nodding and grinning over at Harry. On closer inspection, the Gryffindor looked worse than Draco had all day.

“Yes sirs, of course! Dobby will bring Master Harry some onion and cheese soup like Master Professor Snape likes when he is sick.”

There was another loud pop as Dobby disapparated presumably back to the kitchens to prepare Harry’s food. Severus was glad that the elf had taken a liking to him and his son, and was always willing to help them out.

“How did he know what I eat when I’m sick? Strange little creature...”

“Because you always eat onion and cheese soup when you’re sick or upset. Anyone who’s spent any time with you knows that, Dad,” Harry said as he plopped down on the sofa and curled himself into the cushions, trying to ignore the fact that he was kind of hungry, and very thankful that his dad had thought to ask Dobby to bring him something.

Severus gave Harry a strange look, feeling sympathetic as the teen looked so defeated and tired. He supposed the break up was punishment on its own, so he’d let Harry’s day of ditching go. He hadn’t intended for the boys to actually split up, and he had a feeling it would be only very temporary while Draco tried to deal with the ramifications of regaining such a heinous memory. His annoyance with Harry suddenly felt very fresh, but he didn’t have the heart to berate the boy now.

“Perhaps it’s best that you two don’t see each other, at least for right now. Draco has so much to think about right now, and he must work extra hard in his classes to keep up. I’m sure he still has feelings for you; he just needs to get his priorities straight.”

Harry looked up at his father with such a haunted look in his eyes that Severus nearly recoiled. Had their short relationship really meant that much to him? Stupid question, really; when you’re sixteen and someone tells you they love you, you’re going to believe it. But had they gone that far yet?

“I understand his reasons, though the way he went about explaining was a little...blunt. But understood or not, it still hurts. When he said he loved me, I thought he actually meant it.” Harry’s voice cracked at the end, and he wished more than ever that Severus had just let him go straight to bed. Where was blasted Dobby with that damned soup already?

Perhaps I am being too hard on the boy, Severus thought as he watched Harry attempt to dry his burgeoning tears without his father noticing. He knew that if he wanted to keep his son sane, keeping him from talking to his friends – or at least just Hermione – was not the way to go about it.

“I know it hurts, Harry, and I’m sure he did mean it, and probably still does. He just needs a little bit of time on his own to straighten out his life. I doubt that this is permanent; you two have been through way too much to just simply forget each other.”

Dobby appeared then, hovering a tray of warm soup, bread, and pumpkin juice over to Harry, who looked like he’d rather climb under a rock and die than eat anything.

Severus watched the boy eat, making sure he consumed at least half of it. He knew it was hard to stomach anything with a broken heart, but the boy was already severely malnourished enough as it was. Harry pushed the tray away, and Dobby popped in to take it back to the kitchens once more.

“I will make an exception and allow you to invite Ms. Granger to study with you, but you must do it here and not elsewhere. You should get some sleep, you have much to make up in your classes tomorrow,” Severus said as he stood up and made to head to his own bedroom. He was shocked when he suddenly felt someone hugging him, and instinctively he put his arms around his son.

“Thank you, Dad,” Harry whispered into the thick wool of Severus’ robes, hoping it would mask the fresh tears that had started to fall. By Merlin, he felt like such a cry baby. He’d never cried so much in his entire life before that summer.

Severus pulled away from the hug and kneeled down in front of Harry, his hands held lightly to the Gryffindor’s shoulders. “I’m sorry you’re going through such a rough time right now, Harry, and in time I will forgive you. You must understand that I have considered Draco as a son since the boy was born, so yes, I am a bit biased. I am not saying I care about him more, I have just cared about him longer, and the boy truly has no one else in the world. Draco will forgive you too; he just needs to come to terms with the things he’s been through. We both know that none of it is your fault, but you could have made things a little bit easier by telling someone before he remembered on his own.”

“No, Dad, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t matter if I had described the entire scene to him a hundred times before he had that dream; it would never get easier. I promised Draco that I would never tell anyone, and he promised me in return that he would tell you about it when he was ready to. Unfortunately he never got that chance, and that is my fault. I don’t think it’s wrong to keep a secret for someone you love. How could Draco ever trust me again if I had told you? Having Draco remember it naturally was far better than thrusting the information at him before his mind was ready to cope with a memory like that.

“I’m sorry that Draco went through any of that, I truly am, and I’m sorry he’s going through the pain of remembering it like it’s fresh, but there was no way to prevent that. I love him, and I would do anything to keep him from feeling that pain, but having told either of you before he remembered on his own would have caused him more pain than not, and I don’t understand why you both don’t see that. Try to think of it from my point of view. What if it were Remus in Draco’s place and you in mine? What would you do, Dad?”

Severus took a few seconds to really think about that question. What if it had been Remus? Obviously they were all very different people, but if it had been Remus going through everything that Draco had been through, and he was in Harry’s place...a strong wave of guilt hit him so hard, he thought he might actually fall over.

“I wouldn’t have told a soul aMbout it if it were Remus, to be quite honest. I love him too much to betray him that way. I’m sorry, Harry, I’ve been so unfair to you,” Severus said as he pulled the boy into another hug, wishing he had stopped long enough before to think about what Harry was feeling. He had chosen sides too soon, blinded by the pain that Draco was feeling over the discovery of the abuse. He had abandoned his son so easily, and he felt terrible.

Harry felt such a sudden flood of relief that he felt almost limp in his father’s arms. Had it really been that easy to get Severus to understand? If only he could get Draco to see things his way and win him back. He felt so bereft and lost without Draco that it scared him. He had grown so dependent on the blonde’s partnership that he felt like half of him was missing without him.

“Thank you, Dad. I understand why you felt the way you did, but I was only trying to help him. I wish he would understand that,” Harry muttered against the Potions Master’s shoulder.

“Maybe he will, Harry, he just needs a little bit of time to come to terms with everything.”

S~S~S~S

Hermione simply loved essays. Especially if the essay was on something that she, Merlin forbid, didn’t already know everything about. Flipping through the pages of old and care-worn books in the Hogwarts library never ceased to amaze her. Sometimes she still feared that she would wake up and find that this was all a dream, even if it had been six years already. She had always been a very ambitious student, and that didn’t change when she received her Hogwarts letter and came to the magical school. She had researched everything she possibly could after she got all of her books for school, and her trusty copy of Hogwarts: A History. Even being a Muggle-born, she knew more about Hogwarts on her first day than most of the Pure-blooded students did.

Of course she was underestimated because of her blood-status; she’d read about the prejudice before she’d even boarded the Hogwarts Express. Now, six years later, the hate that Witches and Wizards with impure blood received was getting more and more violent and serious. With Voldemort on the loose spreading hate and discord, Hermione’s kind would never be fully accepted in the Magical community.

However, that didn’t stop her from enjoying the essay she had to do for her Muggle Studies class. Yes, she was Muggle-born, but it was interesting to learn about Muggles from the eyes of Magical folk. This particular essay made her smile as she flipped through a book detailing Muggle appliances and their uses. She giggled to herself as she read the exact use of a blender, and thought that Potions might indeed be easier if they used a few Muggle appliances.

Hermione jumped quite violently as someone sat down in the seat beside her, dropping a book down on the table. She looked over, a glare already in place, and saw Draco, who looked paler than she had ever seen him before.

“You scared me half to death!” Hermione whispered, turning back to her essay and the book on Muggle appliances with an annoyed air.

Draco sighed heavily, pulling out parchment, ink, and quill from his book bag. He had spent nearly fifteen minutes looking for a book to complete his Potions essay in the wrong section of the library, too distracted by his own thoughts and this horrible, nagging headache to realise it. He flipped the book open and searched the index for what he needed before turning to look at Hermione, who didn’t seem to require an answer to her statement, but was going to receive one anyways.

“Sorry, I’m just a little frustrated and my head is killing me. I’ll try to be quieter,” Draco said in an undertone, his voice a slight bit frostier than he had intended for it to be. He shouldn’t being taking things out on Hermione; none of his problems were her fault.

There was a tense silence as the two students worked on their separate essays, flipping pages in their books every so often to check a fact. Hermione couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer, but she knew she had to be subtle, lest she send Draco running from her prying questions.

“I noticed that Harry skipped all of his classes today after Defence.”

Draco’s breath hitched and he felt a deep pang in his chest, making his heart feel like it was lodged in his throat. He took a few deep breaths and gulped before trusting himself to answer. Then he realised he had no idea what to say. What did she know already, and could he trust her anyways? After all, she was Harry’s best friend, so her loyalty would obviously be to Harry first.

“Hmm,” was his brilliant answered, accompanied by what he tried to make appear as a nonchalant shrug. What was it about Harry that always made him look and feel like a complete moron?

Hermione sighed exasperatedly as she set aside her quill and turned to face Draco properly. She’d been pretty worried about Harry all day, but seeing as how he ditched all of his classes, she figured he wanted to be alone, so she hadn’t gone searching for him like she so wanted to.

“What happened, Draco? And don’t pretend like you don’t know, because I know you do.”

“Look, I don’t really want to talk about it, alright? I just want to finish this stupid essay and go to bed,” Draco ground out through clenched teeth, wondering why on earth he had bothered to sit with the Gryffindor know-it-all in the first place. Huh, there was another memory he regained. He tried not to think about the special Rememberall Harry had given him, stuffed into the bottom of his trunk. Truth be told, Draco wasn’t sure that he wanted to remember everything. He was happy with his new life, or at least he had been before that damned dream. He shuddered as goose pimples spread across his too pale skin.

“I know about what happened the other night. He didn’t tell me the memory that you regained, he just told me it was something bad and pretty horrible for you. He explained the entire situation to me. I really think you and Professor Snape ought to give him the chance to explain why he kept that memory from everyone. I mean, really think about it, Draco; do you really think you’d want Harry to tell anyone about that memory?”

Draco did stop to think about it many times, but he always felt so betrayed. Why would Harry keep something like that from him? He could have at least told Severus. However, Draco thought about his godfather’s expression when they had talked about it, and how he felt so dirty – tainted – and instantly felt like a fool. Of course he wouldn’t want Harry to tell anyone, he’d want to make sure no one ever knew, especially his godfather. He was already ashamed enough of what had been done to him without a whole slew of people knowing about it as well.

“No, I’d want him to keep it to himself. Actually, I would prefer that Harry had never seen it either. I don’t know how he can even look at me without being completely disgusted. But it’s alright, he won’t have to anymore. I broke up with him this morning,” Draco said, his resolve even more secure as he thought about it all over again. Harry would never have to feel dirty by being with him; he had saved him from that, at least.

“Oh Draco, you’re such an idiot. Harry had seen that memory over the summer, before your accident, before you both started dating. If he was disgusted by anything, do you think he would have stayed by your bedside while you were in a coma, or helped pull you out of that coma? Do you think he would have fallen in love with you if that memory had changed his views on you at all? You deeply underestimate his capacity for love and compassion. He didn’t tell Professor Snape or you or anyone else about that memory because he was trying to protect you, and keep his promise to you. Even if you don’t remember it, you made him promise not to tell a soul – swear on his mother’s grave – and I think it’s very petty of you to hold that against him now. You’re a fool, and Harry doesn’t deserve any of this.”

Hermione gathered her essay and books, shoving them pell-mell into her book bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She paused to glare at Draco, who looked on the verge of tears. She didn’t care.

“Now I’m going to find Harry and make sure he’s alright, because that’s what real friends do. I think you should just stop and think about all of this – really think about it – because I won’t let you hurt him like this again. When you decide what you really want, find him and apologise.”

Draco watched as the Gryffindor flounced out of the library, every step looking angrier than the last. He felt a little indignant that she had the nerve to tell him what to do, but deep down, he knew everything she said had been right. He was a fool, and he’d hurt Harry because he was feeling ashamed of what had happened to him. His boyfriend had tried to protect him, and Draco repaid him by breaking his heart. Maybe Harry was better off without him.

Draco sat at that table in the library, staring off into space and thinking of the right way to apologise to Harry and try to win him back. He left only when Madam Pince walked through and informed him that the library was closing as it was ten minutes to curfew. He packed all of his stuff away and left the library, intending to wander for a while. After all, even with his amnesia, he was still a Slytherin Prefect, so he could claim he was doing rounds, despite the fact that he hadn’t been to a single Prefect meeting all year. No matter, he’d just wander around anyways. Maybe this damned headache that had plagued him all day would go away.

Wait, I’m a Slytherin Prefect?

S~S~S~S

Severus felt like he was a hundred years old as he sat back in his cushy armchair, a cup of tea steaming on the table beside him. It had been half an hour since he’d sent his son to bed, and he was finally able to relax. He felt drained after the confrontation with Harry, and all he wanted to do was finish the most up-to-date Potions Compendium from Germany before heading to bed himself, where he would sleep alone again. His irritation and worry for Remus surged as he tried not to think about where his lover was, or what he was doing. He wanted him home, and waiting for his return without any word of his whereabouts was practically torture.

Just as he opened his book to continue reading, there was a gentle knock on the door to his dungeon quarters. Severus sighed, sat his book aside, and he went to the door to answer the knock.

“Ms. Granger, what can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry, Professor, I know it’s late and close to curfew, but I just had a talk with Draco and he told me what happened with him and Harry. I wanted to come and make sure Harry was doing alright. Is he here?”

Severus sighed as he opened the door wider and motioned for her to come in, shutting the door carefully behind her. “He retired to his room about half an hour ago, but I’m almost positive that he is not yet asleep. You can knock and ask if he wants to see you; I’ll not force company on him if he’d rather not have it.”

Hermione smiled her thanks and moved down the hall towards Harry’s room, pausing at the closed door to gather her wits about her. She had no idea what state Harry was in. Perhaps he did want to be left alone, but she had to at least make sure he was ok. She knocked gently, waiting patiently.

Harry had rolled over for about the ninth-hundredth time when he heard the knock on his door, and was silently glad for the distraction. Figuring it was probably just his father, Harry sat up and lit his wand. “Come in.”

When Hermione came into the room, looking all the part of a worried mother hen searching out her injured chick, Harry felt the last of his resolve break free again. He didn’t bother to hide the anguish on his face, because he knew he’d never be able to fool Hermione.

“He’s such a fool, Harry, he really is.”

Hermione sat on the edge of her best friend’s bed, glad to offer comfort when Harry leaned his head on her shoulder and let out a shuttering breath, full of heartache and exhaustion. Some people just had all the bad luck, and Harry was unfortunately one of them.

“When will these storm clouds stop following you around, eh?”

Harry laughed for the first time in a while, but only because Hermione’s statement was completely true. When would Fate decide that he’d been tortured enough and just let him live his life? He sighed as he realised that that would probably never happen.

S~S~S~S

It was dark and extremely cold, too cold to be outdoors dressed so leniently, but he had to grin and bear it. He’d had to follow the scent of the pack for some distance before finally catching up to them. He’d carefully cast Glamours to hide his real identity, as Fenrir Greyback was very familiar with Remus Lupin.

The waning crescent of a moon didn’t give off nearly enough light, but as he was supposed to hide the fact that he was a Wizard as well as a werewolf, Remus could not light his wand to see better. He had pilfered a scrap of parchment from one of the other pack members, and a Muggle pen had been stashed in his tattered coat pocket. He scribbled at the top of the parchment to test the pen and, when satisfied that the ink had not dried up, he began his letter.

‘Panther,

I am well, though I must say that winter is most unforgiving these nights. I wish I had you here to keep me warm. I predict that it won’t be much longer now before I am home; there has not been a scrap of information regarding my hunted. I hope you and the pup are doing well, and I miss you both dearly. I love you.

Yours truly,

Moony’

The owl who had hovered over the make-shift camp was sitting high in the tree that Remus was sitting against. Most everyone in the camp was asleep, though they all had extremely good hearing as well. Remus stood with his scrolled letter in his fist, scratching the bark of the tree to get the owl’s attention. When the curious barn owl gave a soft hoot, Remus coaxed it down with a gesture of his hand. The owl landed gently on his outstretched arm and gladly offered its leg, which indeed had a delivering strap on. Remus quickly attached the scroll and whispered the destination of the letter to the owl, which gave a hoot of understanding and took off into the night.

Remus watched as the owl got smaller and smaller, disappearing in the weak moonlight illuminating the camp. He hoped that Severus had forgiven him enough to at least read the letter before attempting to throw it away. Merlin, did he miss that man.