Eyes flittering open, a blur of color and voices met him through the distant screams. Oh hell, why did he have to be so confused? What was going on here?

"Potter... come on boy, open your eyes."

And now somebody was slapping his face as he fought to stay awake. Hands grabbed at him, pulling him back into blissful unconscious. Or so he would have liked as a particularly rough slap cracked through the air, the sound rather than the pain of it jolting him to the present again.

"Don't die again. Come on! Open them! Stay with us!"

There was something familiar about that voice, but it sounded wrong... aged somehow. He opened his eyes and tried to focus the blur and met a sallow face with curtains of black hair. Since when did Severus play Quidditch? He shouldn't have been out on the pitch!

He laughed then at the silly thought of Severus Snape on a broom zooming through the air, and allowed himself to break away once again from the conscious world. Let them worry about whatever the screaming was about. Let him sleep in peace.

* * *

"He is fortunate to be alive."

"Yes, although hardly worthy of it after a stunt like that. What possessed him to leap from his broom to go after the Snitch? He was a hundred feet in the air! He has no sense of self preservation!"

Groggy and confused once again, he reached up to probe his throbbing temple. Was his head even still attached? And who had leapt from their broom for the Snitch?

"Wassat?" His voice came out a whisper and his throat was a thousand knives as he rasped the slur out.

Suddenly there were multiple blurred figures beside him and there was more poking and prodding and words that made no sense.

"Harry my boy, you're awake."

"Huh?"

He squinted, and suddenly his vision came into focus as a pair of glasses was roughly shoved onto his face by a pale man with shoulder length black hair.

"That was the most idiotic thing I've ever seen Potter," he scolded suddenly, to reproving looks from the aging man and woman standing on the other side of his bed. "Perhaps you will enlighten us as to why you felt the need to take a death dive from a hundred feet up."

He rubbed his aching head again as his brows furrowed, trying to make sense of what was happening.

The three adults stared at him silently, and he thought that he recognized all of them, but again had the feeling that something was off, and the man with black hair was strange to him somehow.

"Mr. Potter, do you know what's going on?" It was the man with a long beard and kind face.

"I'm confused," he said, staring around the sterile room, not unfamiliar but somehow not right.

"Let us start at the beginning then dear boy."

"Ok." He waited expectantly as the elderly man sat down on the edge of his bed and conjured two purple overstuffed chairs for the other man and woman. They were not bade to sit, but forced to as the chairs hit them in the legs and knocked them backwards.

"You were in a Quidditch game out on the Pitch. This is Saturday by the way. Your team was down forty points when you saw the golden Snitch. Suddenly you dove off of your broom and snatched it from the air, realizing too late I presume, that you had no safe mode of transportation back to the ground. You were dead when we found you."

"D-dead?"

"Yes," the man with black hair spat with a glare that was somehow tinged with relief.

"Professor Snape and I were able to retrieve you from the afterlife before it was too late, although you lost consciousness shortly thereafter."

"Your body was very damaged from such a fall Harry dear. We've had to remove nearly every bone in your body and re-grow it. Your magical core was severely drained after such an extensive healing process, but in the last week has managed to restore itself again.

"How- how long have I been here?"

"Nine days," the motherly woman answered.

His brows furrowed again as he tried to piece it all together. He gave another look to his visitors and the room around him, but could still not place himself in the world, if he was indeed on the earth.

"And where is here?"

He watched as the three around him exchanged worried glances and then the older of the two men asked, "You do not know where you are?"

He shook his head. Of course not, hadn't he just said that?

"You are in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts Harry. Do you remember who we are?"

"You seem familiar... this place seems familiar but it's like I can't place anything. Certain things don't seem right... mismatched sort of, like they don't belong."

"Such as?"

He sighed and gave a fleeting glance to the man with black hair. "Him... he seems familiar but different... like he doesn't fit."

The man rolled his eyes and said, "Clearly he retains some of his feelings Headmaster."

"Harry, look at me." He did as the old man bade, and met piercing blue eyes and a smile. "I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. This is Madam Poppy Pomfrey, the mediwitch, and Potions Master Severus Snape. You are Harry James Potter."

"I know," he said. At the surprised looks he received, he said, "Well you keep calling me that, so I figured I must be him. But I don't feel like him. I feel different too."

"You are still full of potions dear," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Severus, is there a potion to restore his memory?" Dumbledore queried.

"Unfortunately there is no potion that can be used safely to restore full memory to a person who has lost it. There is a potion that can restore ones sense of self, but it takes at least a month to brew, and I do not have the needed ingredients."

Dumbledore sighed then and said, "It appears that you will have to recover from your amnesia on your own Harry. At least until we can find another way to help you."

Madam Pomfrey pulled out her wand and ran a diagnostic spell on him before saying, "He will be fit to leave by tomorrow, but I don't believe he should return to his common room."

"The reason being..." Snape drawled, fearing she would come up with some inane idea that he needed to be watched closely by a professor. It would not be the first time.

"If he is to recover his memory, it needs to be done on his own. If he is constantly told things that he should already know... such as his name, then he will always feel that something is amiss. Gendwort and Balsam studied the matter extensively at St. Mungos. His memory will return as his magical core did in time if exposed to familiar surroundings, but not told of things he should know."

"Then he should return to his common room," Snape said, still not liking where this conversation was going.

"You know his house as well as I do. His friends can be persuaded to keep their mouths closed," here Snape let out a snort, but she continued, "but an entire house cannot. Headmaster, I suggest he be given one of the guest rooms in a centrally located part of the castle. When he remembers the password and location of his house, then he can enter."

Dumbledore nodded and said, "I will have the house elves perform the necessary alterations on his robes and things so that his house symbol and colors are not present."

"Excuse me sir?"

The adults stopped and looked down at him.

"Yes Harry?"

"Won't I know which house I'm in because my friends will be in that house?"

Another eye roll from Snape, and then in a snide tone he said, "Surely you, the king of popularity knows that you have friends from almost every house. No doubt your fan club will be falling all over themselves to help you recover." He paused, and then turned to Dumbledore, and said, "I suggest you place a non-disclosure spell on certain information you wish for him to find out for himself. Placed on the grounds and any incoming mail it will stop any student or staff member from telling him."

"A wise idea Severus. What information should be restricted?"

Madam Pomfrey was quick with a list of details, including: his house, his allegiances, his favorite activities and foods, his goals, the people he disliked, and any past history with revealing details. When Snape had nothing further to add, Dumbledore preformed the spell and it was done.

"Try to reveal something from the list please Severus."

"Potter, you lemon drop me." With an annoyed look at the Headmaster, he continued, "You're in lemon drop house, and lemon drop from lemon drop house is your school enemy."

Pomfrey held a hand over her mouth to cover a laugh and Snape shook his head.

"As you can see Harry, whenever someone tries to reveal certain things to you, key information will be replaced with ‘lemon drop.' When we are satisfied that you have regained enough memory to live normally, the spell will be removed.

"And what if my memory is full of lemon drops?"

"You are immune from this spell. Fear not dear boy, we will figure things out." He patted him on the leg and rose to leave along with the others.

By himself now, he thought, they keep calling me Harry, but I don't feel like Harry. I feel like... I feel like... but the answer never came to him, and he lay back down, trying to recover any details he could from his life.

How odd it was to know the location of things, but to feel as if they were alien to him? He knew for instance that the charms classroom was just around the corner from his new room, but it was strange that Professor Flitwick taught there. Just like Snape, he didn't seem to fit right. And he kept thinking Transfiguration was the room on the right, when really it was the room on the left. He recognized Hagrid, the gamekeeper, and even knew his name, but didn't think he should be teaching Care of Magical Creatures, although he couldn't imagine anything else the man would be teaching. And then there were his friends... Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and a scattered bunch from other houses. He had met them the day he was released from the Hospital Wing, and had been sure to memorize their names and faces, but he was absolutely sure these people were not his friends. Where and who were his friends then if not these?

At first the other students in the school had found it funny to have their words involuntarily changed to lemon drop all the time trying to tell Harry of his life, but soon they became as annoyed as he did with it all. Why couldn't people just tell him about himself? It was a full four days after he had escaped Madam Pomfrey, and still he was nowhere close to the answers he longed for.

"It's this one Harry," Hermione stood in front of the next door down the hallway. Damn, why couldn't he just remember which room Transfiguration was in? He was so sure it was this one that was now empty.

"We could ask to put a sign up," Ron suggested.

"They want him to remember on his own Ronald," she scolded.

"Well I don't see why we can't tell him he's in lemon drop house. I mean why can't he come stay with lemon drops? Urg!" He gave out a grunt of annoyance.

"The whole thing is stupid," Harry said. "They won't even give me my broom... they said I had charmed the team name onto it."

"Fred helped you do that," Ron told him as they took a seat on the left side of the classroom behind a group of Hufflepuffs. Harry had been insisting they sit on the left side in Transfiguration and Potions, much to Ron's dismay.

"Who's Fred?"

"Lemon drop," Ron said, crossing his arms.

Harry blew air up at his bangs and after a pause asked, "D'ya think I should get a haircut? I mean, it's a little messy isn't it?"

"Hasn't it always been?" Hermione asked.

"I guess," Harry said, reaching a hand up to feel the tangled mess of black hair on his head. He hated looking at himself in the mirror in the morning since he didn't recognize his own face. He did know that he didn't like his hair however, and knew in his heart it should be shorter.

"Do elves cut hair?"

"We can ask Dobby after dinner," Ron told him as McGonagall walked in.

* * *

Who cared if other people didn't like it? He admired his new hairstyle in the mirror of the boy's bathroom outside the Great Hall. Whoever this Dobby was had done a good job cutting it exactly as he had instructed. His face still didn't look right, and his hair color seemed off to him, but the style was spot on. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt more at ease in his body knowing the hair was different. Perhaps if he rid himself of the glasses as well?

He took them off experimentally and when blurred vision met him, he dispelled the idea immediately. Nope, the glasses would have to stay.

* * *

"I wonder what's gotten into him?" Minerva asked quietly as she leaned in to speak privately with Albus and Severus the next morning at breakfast. "Just look at his hair! And I wonder how he sees without those glasses."

"Speak for yourself Minerva," Severus said. "It's about time the brat took care of that tangle of hair. He's got a proper hair cut now."

"And it's the oddest thing don't you know," she continued, as if she hadn't heard him. "I hadn't thought about it until last night, but when he comes to Transfiguration, he always tries the door down the hall before his friends remind him it's the next door up. And I remembered that my class used to be in the other room until ten or so years ago when it grew too small after Bill Weasley's transfiguration accident."

"He's obviously still forgetful," Severus told her, leaning back in his chair.

"Is he? Because he seems to remember other classrooms just fine, as well as his friends names once he was introduced."

"You're making an oddity out of nothing," Severus told her dryly. "This Potter seems more respectful and less foolhardy. I'll be sorry to see the old Potter return."

She huffed and turned a cold shoulder to him, but continued to watch Harry interact with his friends, where he had been invited to sit at Gryffindor table today.

* * *

"Yuck Harry."

Harry frowned and looked up at Hermione.

"What?"

"You've smothered your eggs in ketchup! It looks like they're bleeding."

"So?" he shrugged and took a big bite, smiling to let a little ketchup show. "They're wonderful. Try them."

"I thought you hated ketchup."

Another shrug, and then, "Well maybe I like it now. Tastes can change."

They'd been having a similar conversation at least once a day for the last week. He would do something they considered strange, like ketchup on his eggs, the new haircut, or asking Hermione to spell his eyes right each morning, and they would tell him how unlike himself he was being. But truth be told, he was feeling more and more like himself every day.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Professor McGonagall would let me change subjects?"

"To what?"

"I've been thinking about kicking Divination at picking up Runes. I mean, I'm daft at seeing the past or the future, so why stay in it?"

"I've been telling everyone that for ages. But if you switched to Runes now you'd be three years behind... we're already sixth years and I don't think Professor Babbling will let you into her NEWT class now."

"But I can try it can't I? I feel like I'd be good at it."

Hermione gave a snort and Harry glared at her, making her quiet and serious again. "Well we can ask, but don't be disappointed."

Harry was in fact rather pleased with himself later that day when he was given a sheet of Runes to decipher by Professor Babbling and read it aloud perfectly. Hermione was dismayed because she had studied long and hard at it, only to have Harry be proclaimed as a natural, and be let into the class.

"It just doesn't make sense Harry," she told him. "You go three years without any interest in the subject and then all of a sudden you can decipher last week's homework?" She crossed her arms as they walked Harry back to his room on the second floor.

"So?" Ron asked. "Good on you mate! Mum has been bugging me for years to try Runes because it was her favorite subject!"

"No it's not good Ronald," Hermione stopped walking as she scolded him. "There's something very odd about Harry and nobody seems to care! He knows Runes, he changed his hair, he likes different foods now, and this morning he went to Slytherin table and sat down!"

"Hey," Harry said indignantly, "Professor Snape said I had friends in all houses, so why can't I sit there?"

"Because you lemon drop Slytherin house Harry!" she screamed.

Ron raised his brows and Harry glared at her. "Well lemon drop to you too Hermione! If you were my friend you'd accept me for who I am! Not who I used to be!" Harry stormed off down the hallway and slammed the door to his room around the corner, throwing the borrowed Runes book on his bed. Suddenly angry with his brown bedspread, he shot out a spell that turned it Slytherin green, and felt satisfied that something else in his life had been set straight.

He flopped backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He felt right at Slytherin table for the brief moment he'd been there this morning before Ron had dragged him away, and had felt awkward at Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables. And he did like the new green bedspread. Perhaps he was in Slytherin house? It would explain why he'd been getting dirty looks from the other Slytherins whenever he was with Ron and Hermione, which was constantly. He did know the location of Slytherin common room, which was something at least. He had been let into Gryffindor when he followed Ron and Hermione one day, but he hadn't remembered it at all.

An idea hitting him, he grabbed his wand and made his way down to the dungeons, to the bare patch of wall that felt familiar. He traced his fingers along the edges of one particular stone, and a word popped into his mind. "Cauldron."

Nothing happened. He thought again and said, "Pride." Again nothing. A flash of memory hit him suddenly and he recalled standing in front of this very patch of wall with a lean boy his age, with pale skin and long black hair.

‘C'mon Sev, it's not that bad, she's only a Gryffindor.'

‘Easy for you to say, all your friends are in Slytherin.'

‘Lemon drops,' he muttered, and the bare patch of wall opened wide to reveal an entrance.'

‘Well, let's start our Runes homework or we'll be up all night with it.'

Harry shook his head, amazed that he'd had a clear memory. So he was in Slytherin after all!

Excited he stepped up to the wall and said confidently, "Lemon drops!"

The wall moved aside to grant him entrance, and he strutted in, confident that he would receive a warm welcome, the lost Slytherin finally returning home.

"Do not jest with me Miss Parkinson," he said, rubbing his temple as he tidied up a stack of essays on his desk.

"But sir it's true! He walked right in and sat down on the couch next to Draco! You'd better hurry because Draco looked murderous when I left!"

He rolled his eyes but followed her out of his office at a brisk pace nonetheless. True to her word, there was Harry bloody Potter, lying on the common room floor in a scuffle with Draco and several other Slytherin boys, even some in seventh year.

"Get out of our house!" Draco was shouting as he tried to lift Harry and drag him across the floor to no avail because Harry was desperately holding on to a wooden couch leg. Secretly Severus had to admire his grit, because he held tight despite the kicks and punches he was receiving.

"Enough!"

The commotion and shouting stopped as every eye in the room turned to look at the cross Potions Master.

"Sir, he just came right in!" Draco panted, exasperated.

Harry sat up and wiped a little blood from the corner of his mouth. "It's my common room too! Tell them Sev! Tell them I live here!" There was a desperation in his voice, but it didn't deter the shock and anger Severus suddenly felt aimed at the boy.

"OUT! GET OUT!" He pointed a finger at the still open entrance to the common room, face tinged red.

"But tell them! I live here!"

"OUT POTTER!"

He took three long strides to where the boy sat and hauled him to his feet. Harry looked confusedly up into his face and wondered at how odd the name Potter sounded coming from his lips. This wasn't right. He wasn't James Potter... and he wasn't Harry Potter either... and how were the two of them connected?

Suddenly Harry was being dragged down the hallway to cheers from Slytherin house, and he felt hurt by it. How disgraceful to be dragged from your own common room like a common traitor.

And then he was in an office he'd yet to see being thrown into a chair. Apparently this office belonged to his friend, although he still couldn't figure out why he looked different... older somehow. Maybe he'd finally brewed that aging potion they'd been talking about for so long and tricked the Headmaster into hiring him? He was so confused.

"DO NOT EVER, call me by my given name again Potter!"

"But Sev... I mean sir, why? I don't understand."

"I don't know what you think you're playing at Potter, but the game is over. You can stop pretending to have lost your memory now. You have crossed many lines today and I am not pleased!"

"But I didn't do anything!"

"You snuck into my house Potter, MY HOUSE! Go sneak into LEMON DROP house!"

"I didn't sneak ANYWHERE! I remembered the password! Lemon drops! Just like it was when I left it! I thought it was cauldron or pride at first, but then I realized it had been changed again." He fidgeted with his fingers just then, and it bothered Severus just how familiar the gesture seemed to be.

"What did you say?"

Harry repeated himself and confirmed that the man had heard right. He knew three of the five passwords the house cycled through every year.

"What are the other two passwords?"

Harry thought a moment and then said, "Restricted, and Sluggy."

"And who told you these passwords?"

A frown came along with his answer. "Professor Slughorn! What's wrong with you?"

"And when did you meet Professor Slughorn?" Slughorn had stopped teaching at Hogwarts the day after James and Lily Potter had died.

"Don't be silly! The day we were sorted into Slytherin Sev. Has your mind gone barmy too? They didn't say you'd been hit in the head, just me. Why are you so angry with me? Dumbledore said if I remembered my common room I could go in." Although still not sure why he was in trouble, he was suddenly feeling very empowered. Many memories had come flooding back to him in the last half hour, although some still didn't make any sense, such as where Lucius Malfoy and his other friends were and why there were so many people at Hogwarts that he didn't know aside from having been introduced to them three weeks before.

"You are not Harry Potter," Severus said quietly, realization dawning on him as he sat down behind his desk heavily.

"I've been trying to tell you all that. I don't feel like Harry Potter. I don't even know who that is! Is he related to James somehow? I'd heard he had a cousin at Durmstrang."

"What is your name?"

"You don't even know your best mate? Come on Sev, it's me, Joshua."

"Joshua?"

"Yeah, Joshua Illatoby Ignotious." He held up his arms as if showing his muscles and gave a short laugh that faded when he saw how pale Severus had grown.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You are not Joshua," he finally proclaimed.

Joshua's brows furrowed. "What do you mean I'm not Joshua? I finally remember who I am and you go telling me I'm not him either?

"In spirit perhaps, but in reality you are Harry James Potter, bloody boy who lives to make my life miserable."

"I don't know what you're going on about. I told you already, before this week I'd never even heard of Harry Potter."

"He is James Potter's son."

Joshua scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. James is only a sixth year! And I'm a sixth year too... he can't have had a son when he wasn't a year old yet!"

"No, but he had a son sixteen years ago, when he was 21. And then he was killed a year later by the Dark Lord."

"So... somehow I ended up in the future? In somebody else's body? But last thing I remember I was on the pitch playing a game against Hufflepuff. How can I have traveled in time? C'mon Sev, just listen to yourself, my broom's not that fast," he gave a little chuckle.

"Listen to yourself Joshua. What happened on the pitch that day? It was windy and raining and there was lightening. Did you ever catch the Snitch?"

Joshua bit his lip, the one nervous trait he and Potter seemed to share. "I was flying, and Lucius smacked a Bludger at O'Conner to free the path for me to the Snitch, and I was just reaching out for it when... when..." he looked up, confusion in his eyes. "I can't remember. I woke up here."

"You were just reaching for the Snitch when lightning struck you and you died."

Eyes wide, Joshua sat up straighter. "No I didn't. I'm here aren't I?"

"Three weeks ago Harry Potter fell a hundred feet in the pitch and died, and when we brought him back to life, you somehow came back instead. Do you remember any of this?"

Joshua felt as if Severus had struck him all of a sudden. He sat back in the chair and slouched down a little. Who wouldn't be disheartened to find out that they were really dead?

"So... 21 years have passed? What ever happened with you and Lily? Is the Dark Lord still around or did you beat him? Where are Lucius and the others?"

"Two weeks after you died I called Lily a mudblood. She never forgave me and married James Potter. Harry, the boy you are inhabiting is her son. When Harry was one year old, the Dark Lord attacked him, killing both parents and then himself as his magic rebounded off of the boy. He has been trying to regain corporeal form and power since. You met Lucius' son, Draco, when he was trying to remove you from the common room. Lucius entered into the service of the Dark Lord before you died, unbeknownst to anyone but Narcissa, now his wife.

"And the others?"

"Some of them have children here, but most are in Azkaban for services rendered to the Dark Lord."

Joshua sighed. "Guess the world didn't turn out the way we wanted it to then huh?"

"No." Severus rubbed his temple. It was odd to feel the teacher explaining something to a student, and yet to feel at ease with him as if it was only yesterday that he himself was 16, and throwing paper airplanes at his friend across the common room.

"What now? I mean, you brought me back from the dead and Harry is dead now. Can we bring him back?"

"You can't mean that you want to die again?" Severus sat forward, suddenly alarmed. It had nearly killed him when Joshua had died, and he didn't want to lose the miraculous recovery of him now.

"Well it isn't fair to Harry then is it? I don't belong in this world Severus. I belong back at the Hogwarts where the Hospital Wing walls were still wood and Slughorn was head of Slyhterin house, and when we had plans of defeating Voldemort when we were older. Back when Lucius was still our hero and you were falling over your own feet whenever Lily walked by you. How am I supposed to just steal somebody else's life?"

Severus sighed heavily. He was right of course, but how could he let his friend go in favor of returning the Potter brat? And then again, how could he not? True, Harry should have died, but this was Harry's body and life, not Joshua's.

"There is one chance, but you would have to die again. And there is no guarantee that we could bring either of you back, or that we would not bring back yet another consciousness."

Joshua bit his lip as he thought. "The pitch is fairly empty I think," he said plainly, as if that made the matter simple and clear.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know. I have this memory of an empty pitch. Dark and quiet, but still lit up with lights. And there's other people there, but not many... they're all students like me. And there's a door, but I've never been through it. Every once in a while one of them goes through it and never comes back."

"A door?"

"There was a girl... she said she was ready and she went through it... said she heard someone calling her name. And there was a boy, and he swore he'd never go through the door, and he disappeared."

"Are you sure you're remembering correctly?"

He nodded. "It's so clear now. It's as if there's no time there, just moments. And I've heard them calling my name beyond the door, but I never go through. I don't want to die you know." He looked up into Severus' dark eyes and the man saw the sparkling eyes of his friend once again rather than the eyes of Harry Potter.

"The boy... have you seen him? He had blond hair and glasses, and he was a Beater."

"There is a ghost of that description that frequents the Quidditch Pitch during practices and games. He lives in the Ravenclaw locker rooms the rest of the year."

"So that's where he went," Joshua smiled. There was such a calmness in his voice that hadn't been there before. Acceptance even.

There was silence for long moments, and then Severus said, "Do you truly wish to return Potter's body back to him?"

"Yes. I think I can make sure he's the one who returns."

And what of you? Are you to become a ghost as well?"

"No," he smiled sheepishly. "I think I'm done waiting. It's time to go home."

* * *

They were all watching him as he made his way to the hospital bed. His old professors were there, smiling at him and looking on in wonder. He had been given some time alone with some of them, like McGonagall, who always had liked him. And he had sat for long, silent moments with Severus, not talking, not reminiscing, just being, and taking comfort in the fact that his friend had made it through turbulent times, even if he had done it without him.

"Ready Joshua?"

He nodded at the medi-witch, and then turned to Severus, who was looking rather pale.

He put a hand up on his friend's shoulder and said, "Take heart Severus. We'll meet again someday. Go through the door when you're ready." He gave him a warm smile, and Severus returned it.

"Farewell old friend."

Joshua sat down on the bed and waited. When a potion was handed to him he uncorked it and said, "If he has not yet gone through the door, I will send him back to you." And then with a single swig of the black liquid, he lay down and was gone.

Silence filled the room as the six Professor's and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked on at the lifeless body, wondering what would happen next.

"Has it been enough time?" Minerva asked after a few moments.

"He said there is no time there. We should resuscitate him before Potter's body begins to decay," Severus said, his words sounding as lifeless as the body on the bed.

Together he and Dumbledore moved to opposite sides of the bed and began the long incantation that had once brought back sixteen year old Joshua Illatoby Ignotious. It was long, drawn out moments before the spell was finished, and they waited patiently to see what would happen. Finally, there was a deep breath, as if gasping for air, and then his chest was rising and falling rhythmically.

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore intoned quietly. "Harry?"

The boy stirred and weakly opened his eyes. "Where's Snape?"

Excitement flitted through Severus for a moment before he realized that Joshua would never have called him ‘Snape'.

"Here Potter." He moved closer so the boy could see.

"Joshua says hello sir. He went home to be with God and his family."

Severus sat back in the chair he'd been occupying next to Harry's bed and felt as much relief as he saw spread on the faces of the others gathered there.

Hermione and Ron stepped forward tentatively and then asked, "Harry? Is it really you?"

"My memory's kind of foggy... except what Joshua told me. But he said you'd be waiting here... and something about me keeping his hair cut trimmed."

Ron laughed along with McGonagall and a few other staff members.

Severus rose and left the room. He didn't think he could bare to sit there and listen to Harry joke with his friends, alive and well, knowing Joshua was once again gone.

* * *

"Sir?"

Severus looked up at the knock on his open office door. It was Potter, but he expected to see Joshua, there to tell him he had somehow managed to return again.

"What is it Potter?" He tried to inject some annoyance, but was too tired to manage the tone.

Harry came in and stood in front of his desk. It had taken a couple of weeks of lemon drops for him to regain his memory, as Joshua had done, but since then he seemed back to his normal self, aside from one thing.

"Sir, I just wanted to say thank you, for helping me I mean."

"Those are rare words coming from your lips."

Harry bit his lip and scratched at his newly re-grown hair, unruly once again, but still tidier than it had always been. "Well Joshua told me some things sir. Things about you I mean, and my mum." Severus had set his quill down now and was looking a little pale, staring just beyond Harry. "What I mean to say is, I understand some things now that I didn't before."

"Fine Potter, you can leave now."

Harry gripped the strap of his backpack tighter, as if it might have suddenly grown too heavy hanging there on his shoulder.

"I just wanted to say that I don't mean to be the bloody boy who lived to make your life miserable sir."

Severus' head snapped up. So Joshua had told him quite a bit about his time there had he?

He breathed deeply for a few moments, and then said, "Fine Potter. Return to your classes or you will be late."

Harry looked a little sad as he left, but Severus didn't know if he cared to care or not. It didn't matter that weeks had passed, he was still emotionally burnt from gaining and then losing his friend once more. Why should he go and put his emotions on the line again like that caring about the Potter brat? And yet he found himself relieved all the same that Potter seemed different somehow... more contrite and respectful. And perhaps a little less headstrong and foolhardy he admitted.

* * *

Harry sat in Potions the next day next to Ron and Hermione. It had been a while now, and people were still giving him odd looks, especially the Slytherins, now that the school knew he had been inhabited by a dead Slytherin who was once friends with Professor Snape.

He didn't know how to explain it, but he felt tired and calm. Before the accident he was angry and upset, and unhappy with his life. Now he was just normal. It was almost as if he had been on a rollercoaster and had finally come to a decision to get off. What use was it being so angry all the time when life was so short and fragile to begin with? He had even tried to make amends with Professor Snape, even though the man had been the one to start the feud in the first place. It didn't seem to work, but Harry just couldn't get himself worked up about it.

Ron and Hermione chatted happily beside him as the Potion's Master walked in and tapped the blackboard with his wand. The class quieted and started to work.

It wasn't long before Professor Snape was standing over his shoulder, ready to criticize Harry's work, as was their routine. Harry brewed, Snape criticized, Harry seethed, class ended. That was normal. But not this time. Harry couldn't get angry and Snape was just standing there, no foul insults being thrown Harry's way.

"Acceptable Potter," were the words that left the Professor's mouth as he looked down into the purple solution. Time seemed to stop as the class froze, some mid stir, to watch Snape cautiously. He had never praised Harry's work before.

"You have perhaps added too much bezoar. Put in another Guffer pod to counteract it and you will receive full marks."

Snape moved back towards the front of the room, and Harry stared after him, along with the rest of the class.

"Thank you sir," Harry said quietly, and Snape gave one nod, not turning back to him.

"D'you reckon somebody else has inhabited his body?" Ron asked quietly, although Snape's sharp ears were still listening.

Harry thought on it for a moment, and then said, "Joshua maybe. I know he's still here with me."

Ron and Hermione looked alarmed for a moment, but Harry waved their looks away and Severus turned just in time to see Harry tap his chest above his heart.

"Can't share a death without leaving something behind," Harry said quietly as he dropped another Guffer pod into his potion.

"Or a friend," Severus whispered quietly at the front of the room. But nobody heard, and he sat down at his desk to contemplate his life once more.