"Really, I do think the problem is the head injury." Ernie McMillon told Ginny and Harry as they stood anxiously outside Tim's room. Normally, they would have seen Ernie at his office in St. Mungo's, but Harry was not above trading shamelessly on personal favors to get his children special treatment, when they were hurt. Ernie was still in his green healer's robes, having come over as soon as he'd finished seeing his last case for the morning.

Ernie's specialty was healing related the brain and the nerves. He had followed Tim's case since he'd first treated him for damage from the Cruciatus curse, four years ago, when Tim had first come to live with the Potters. He had, in fact, built his reputation on Tim's case and others like it. He had also had a good deal of success treating people who'd had their memories wiped out by accidents, injuries, or badly done obliviation spells.

"The damage is fairly extensive, but strictly physical." Ernie went on, "I've looked at Poppy's report and I don't think it's the potion that has affected him. " The healer hesitated.

It was never good news when a healer hesitated like that. Harry's stomach twisted itself into a tight ball and Ginny grasped his hand. Harry squeezed back hard.

"So, I think," said Ernie slowly, "Given that we're dealing with simple mechanical trauma, rather than magical injury, a few days of standard healing potions should put him right."

"But..?" Harry prompted, wishing Ernie would just get to the point, hoping he hadn't sounded as snappish as he felt.

"It's probably nothing." Ernie's brows were knitted in concentration, "I just...I'm just really astounded at how active Tim's magic is. His magical activity levels are what you'd expect in a fairly powerful adult wizard." His brows were knitted in concern and he glanced back at the boy's bedroom door, "That would lead me to look for magical injury, but I can't find any. I worry that, perhaps, I'm missing something."

Ginny nodded, "Yes, but Tim's always been a special case, hasn't he?" she glanced at Harry for support.

"Well, his magic has occasionally overreacted rather spectacularly, " admitted Harry, "The first time I laid eyes on him, he'd transfigured a man into a cockroach. I doubt many seven year old wizards could have done that."

Ernie looked speculative and then relieved, as though solving a puzzle in his head "Hmm. I suppose...yes... A purely physical injury could wake up precociously activated magic that's gone dormant. A sort of learned response to early-on magical injury." Ernie gave Harry a wry look, "That's how it always worked with you, from what I understand."

Harry just shrugged, more concerned with his son, than whatever powers he, Harry, allegedly held as a child, "So, you don't think this memory loss is permanent?" Harry said, bringing the conversation back to the point.

The healer shook his head, "No. This doesn't look any worse than a bad Quidditch injury. I would expect some disorientation for the next week to ten days, given that he cracked the back of his head on the floor. Poppy said there was considerable brain swelling before she got the first potion into him, so it was pretty bad. If he'd been a Muggle, he'd be dead." Ernie shifted uncomfortably on his feet, "To be honest, we should be grateful that Tim's magic is at a strength level that you usually don't see in young wizards. He'd still be comatose, otherwise."

Ginny nodded. As she had told Tim, she had, indeed, had her share of Quidditch injuries, over the years, "So, what should we be doing?" she asked.

"Just the usual thing." Ernie said, pulling a bit of parchment out of his pocket and writing down some instructions, "I'll prescribe a nerve healing potion twice a day. Leave his wand with him. You're right about that-it's helping his magic focus. He can get up tomorrow if he feels up to it. If he feels worse, fire call me or send a Patronus, if I'm not at the office." Ernie handed the parchment to Ginny, "Don't leave him alone for the next couple of days. Have your house elf look after him over night."

Ginny and Harry looked at each other with a bit of a smirk. As good as Kreacher was with the children, they had never let him sit with one of them when they were ill. Unlike many Pure Blood parents, Harry and Ginny were definitely the hands-on type.

Harry took a breath and asked what had been plaguing him since he'd heard Tim refer to him as "Mr. Potter" and seen his closed off, frightened expression, "You don't think...this is going to set him back do you?" he swallowed, "It won't reactivate the damage from the Cruciatus?"

No one had ever sustained as much documented damage from the Cruciatus Curse as Tim had, and come out whole. Many suspected that during the last year of the war, there were others who had been Cruciated just as often, but they had all been treated with the Snape potion, secretly. Tim was really the only test case they had, apart from Alice Longbottom.

"Rattling his brains isn't going to undo what the potion did, Harry." Ginny said firmly. Ginny always had much more faith in the potion than Harry did. Harry hated to think of why, "I've never had any trouble."

The healer nodded, "That's right. I told you, as far as I can tell, it's strictly a physical injury. I'll come back tomorrow and check on him. I think a normal healing draught will do the job. I don't think we need anything specialized." Ernie said, "Only, don't be surprised if he's...well, a bit funny 'till his memory comes back."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny, concerned. She slipped her arm around Harry's waist and he put his arm around her shoulder. They'd had a lot of experience with Tim's "funny turns" in the past. It wasn't anything they couldn't get through again.

"Well, that's part of the reason I don't want you to leave him alone." Ernie said crossing his arms, and leaning up against the wall, "Head injuries are very inconsistent in their effects. You'll notice, it seems like he remembers most people, but he's fuzzy on his relationship to them."

"He was like that at school." confirmed Harry, "Knew almost everyone, but wasn't sure how he fit in. Went back to calling me Mr. Potter."

"Unfortunately, traumatic memories are the strongest. He might be only remembering you as "Mr. Potter" right now. He's also likely to have some nightmares or even flashbacks before his memory comes back properly. He might also be very moody, irritable, possibly tearful. All very normal, after an injury like this. It'd safe to use Legilimency on him, if you think you can stop him from working himself up into a state. I dislike using a calming draught after a head injury, to be honest. Tends to make one a bit sluggish."

Harry and Ginny were nodding in unison.

"Don't be too concerned if he's disoriented over the next day or so. Might ask odd questions, even find himself unable to remember how to do particular complex tasks. Answer any questions he has, no matter how peculiar they seem. More than likely it'll jog his own memories. If it seems like its getting worse rather than better, contact me right away, all right?"

"Yes." Said Harry, "I'll sit with him first, shall I?" he told Ginny.

"Right." Said Ernie, pushing away from the wall, "I just leave you to it. Let me know if you need me."

Ginny looked at the list of potions, "I'll send Kreacher out for these." She gave Harry's waist a last squeeze before letting go and started down the steps to see Ernie out, "Harry? Do you want me to get Kreacher to bring your lunch up here?" she asked.

"Yeah, go on." Nodded Harry. He gave Ernie a smile and turned back to Tim's room.

"I'll come and take over after Mum gets here." Ginny said over her shoulder, "She just owled that she'll come stay the night."

Harry smiled. Molly was always to be relied upon.

The bedroom door was still half open, the way Harry had left it when he'd walked out. Tim was sitting in his bed where Harry had last seen him, pretending to read.

Harry knew he had to have been listening in on the adult's conversation. It was what he would have done, after all. Harry hadn't cast a silencing charm, because if he had, Tim would have probably assumed he was dying and the adults weren't telling him.

Again, Harry would have assumed the exact same thing.

Tim looked up, as though he'd actually been absorbed in the book. The child was getting to be a damned fine actor. Probably taking lessons from Al.

"What did the healer say?" a calculatedly casual tone, that hid real fear. Tim's eyes had taken on that flat, too-old look that Harry was familiar with. A sort of old-soul, eleven-going-on-forty, world weariness. Waiting for the worst.

Harry sat down in the rocking chair next to the bed and met Tim's eyes before he started speaking, "Come on, Tim," he said, with a wry little smile, "Don't try to tell me you weren't listening."

The boy's mouth thinned, and he seemed to brace himself, as if he expected Harry to give him a smack for being caught eavesdropping, "I heard...some." he replied warily.

"So, Healer Ernie thinks you just have a concussion. Your magic will put it right in a few days." Harry assured him, "Until then, he doesn't want you to be left alone, in case you get dizzy or sick again."

Tim stared at Harry, not speaking.

"You want to play some chess?" asked Harry, tentatively.

Tim shook his head, still staring at Harry.

"Okay." Harry pulled out his wand and summoned one of the parchments he'd been reading from his study. Sometimes, Tim just needed some time by himself to collect his thoughts. Harry thought he'd be a little more at ease if Harry just got involved in something else.

Tim just did not move. He didn't take his eyes off Harry. The intensity of the child's stare was unnerving.

Finally Kreacher came in with a tray, "Mistress Ginny says that Master Harry and Master Tim should eat." The old elf croaked. Surprisingly, Tim didn't even have a smile for Kreacher, although he did mutter his thanks when served a bowl of soup.

Kreacher tilted his head a bit, then leaned up to whisper something in the boy's ear.

Tim drew back looking astonished and Kreacher gave him a conspiratorial smile, "Don't you worry about anything, Little Master." Kreacher patted the boy's hand, "It'll be fine, you'll see." He vanished with a crack.

Harry grinned to himself. He never would have believed, years ago, what a good child minder Kreacher could be. For some reason, he always was knew what to say to the children when they were sad or worried.

Tim seemed to turn his attention more to his food and Harry sat eating his own and reading his report.

"Mmm...Dad?" Tim said, after a while. He used the word as if he was humoring Harry.

He very likely was, Harry knew. Tim hated to upset people.

"Yes?"

Tim had put his bowl of soup aside on the bedside table. He was holding his wand up between his hands, studying it, "Why do I have this wand?"

"You don't remember?" asked Harry.

Tim shook his head.

Harry smiled, "Well, like the portrait told you, that used to be Severus Snape's wand. He was headmaster of Hogwart's, the greatest potion's master of the 20th Century, a hero of the Second War with Voldemort, head of Slytherin House and a good friend of my mum's."

Tim went back to staring at Harry and simply waited.

"Do you remember how ill you were when you first came to live with us?" Harry asked, quietly.

"I think so?" the boy didn't sound too sure.

"Well, I was going through Professor Snape's journals looking for something to help, and I had his wand. It called you. Do you remember that?"

Now the child just shook his head.

"Well, at the time, we were worried that you'd never be able to control your magic, but your Auntie Luna said it proved you'd be able to. That wand is one of the best, you know." Harry said, "And Professor McGonagal once told me that the only wizard she'd ever known who was greater than Severus Snape was Dumbledore himself."

Tim's mouth fell open and his eyes widened. Again, Tim seemed to have no trouble remembering the history he'd read. It was hard to beleive that two wizards in a Century could have as much power as Snape and Dumbledore. And for a young boy to realize he'd inherited that wizard's wand-Harry hoped, belatedly, that he wasn't going to end up overexciting the boy.

Harry reached over and pulled Severus Snape's brooding Chocolate Frog card off the wall, where it was pinned up next to Slytherin (Tim had alphabetized them), "See, you've got his card."

Tim took the card, reading the back with the information and statistics for a while.

"It says that he's got a biography." Tim said, suddenly, urgently, "Do we have it?"

Harry nodded. Summoned the book from his study with a flick of his wand, "You're going to turn into your Aunt Hermione, you are." Harry said good naturedly, grateful that Tim sounded a little more like himself. Alive with curiosity; off and running on a new project. By the end of the holiday, Tim would know everything there was to know about Severus Snape.