There was a word...

'Help'

It wasn't much of a word, it was pleading, yet it was still a word nonetheless. This word was strange, it was something that Severus never saw coming from the infamous Potter brat. Small and weak was such a young voice and it was making the Potions Master wonder just this: Where was that hint of Gryffindor courage was that was normally there? How odd, how...Vulnerable; yes that's what the boy was being at the moment! And Severus had to marvel at such a state this boy was in. After all, Potter had never asked for any form of assistance coming from him or anybody else before. Sure, Severus had saved Potter's life multiple times without the child's consent but this was just bizarre, even if the boy was oblivious to whom the snarky Potions Professor actually was. Still, memory loss or not, what was in the air that was making Potter want to trust him?

Was this what Severus gets in return for everything he had done to save the boy's skin through all these years? Was this what he got as payment for what he had put himself through; for this war, risking his own neck here and there and for this...this child?! Did he deserve to put up with such a mindless boy, a 'Potter' suffering from amnesia?

Severus turned to Potter only to find eyes radiating off a light that was bright green and lively. Lily's eyes, of course, were boring straight into Severus's own in a way that he couldn't quite depict. Suddenly he began to start re-thinking the whole situation through, that maybe the boy wasn't all to blame for what happened per say. Severus would never openly admit it, but deep down he knew that he deserved every single ounce of oblivious Potter time that he could get.

The Potions Master shifted uncomfortably beneath the boy's dazzling stare as he couldn't find flaw with the fact that Potter's painful expression was alien to that of the same boy.  Potter would often glower at him in classes and act out in ways that were intolerable. Really, this Potter was a mere clone of the first was he not? From the same annoying messy hair to the same stupid remarks Potter was his father and much more.

But at that proclaimed statement, and as if a Petrificus Totalus spell had been performed on him, Snape had stiffened tremedously on the spot. Ironically, perhaps he'd been correct that boy had turned out to be much more than he had expected him to be, even if it was Potter's spawn. But then why was Severus feeling so uneasy when the boy was so near and in need? What was this pleading 'sight' that the child was giving him? Was it hurt? was it discomfort?

No, it had to be something stronger, something that was more sincere. Snape turned to Harry Potter and couldn't help but stare in awe at what he saw.

'Guilt.'

Indeed, Severus had glimpsed at it before, but he had not really seen or have had the chance to break down the whole scene until up to this moment. That look, one in which Potter was displaying way too well for his breed, was burning inside him deeply now. It was only then that Severus saw that Potter was showing a sense of remorse for something that he did not come to fully understand, though wanted too, and for some reason could not remember.

An expression as such should be cursed to ever appear on a child's face. Severus wanted to kick himself for missing such an important reaction before. Was it remorse that Severus was too blind to notice when Potter had been reluctant to leave him be? Was it surprise that claimed Potter's mind right before that jar had penetrated through his skull? The child bore that same guilt filled appearance even before he was bleeding profusely from his head.. and what had Snape done about it? Nothing! Nothing but scowl at the boy and loath every bone in his body. The man was stunned that Potter hadn't been screaming bloody murder from all the pain that he must be going through. Had it been that Potter seen that jar coming towards him and had accepted the blow as if he deserved it all along?

Was guilt the last feeling that had seared through the boy's body before he had blackened out in the arms of his most hated Potion Professor? Had it failed to fade out of his green orbs just like the lively, beautiful lights had done as they died inside and out of all things Gyrfindor? Oh how it it had been...Severus wished that he could have seen this earlier.

The Potions Master jerked his head towards Potter and swiftly came to his aid just before the others in the room had even begun to realize that the panic-stricken child was going into shock.

And just why couldn't Severus put two and two together before?

When the others did happen to notice that their cherished Golden Boy was shivering in fright from an invisible force they had flung themselves towards him in assistance, but Potter only cried out more from the sudden movements from those around him.

He had to wonder if he was capable of doing that now; saving the boy not only because it was his job to do so.

The child's messy black hair was lying in a heap of sweat on the top of head, the whites in his eyes were so large that Severus could have sworn that Potter looked as if he was being strangled to death.

'And not just because of the threat of Dark Lord, what irony is this?' thought Snape as he rounded on Potter. 'The boy is more likely to die at my wand rather than that monster's' At the rate he was going, Voldemort wouldn't have to touch a single hair on Potter's head to kill him. Snape was already in the mist of doing so.

Severus was going to strangle the boy himself if Potter didn't put an end to this nonsense, that was for sure. There was no doubt that it took heaps of energy out of him to suppress the favorable urge to do. Unfortunately, any rough handling of this boy could be unrepairable. Instead, Severus decided to study the miserable child as if he was a highly reactive potion being concocted. A thread of a thought had great pleasure in torturing his mind.

Could the boy really have forgotten everything?

At first Severus had thought that perhaps Potter's own memories weren't as lost as they were assumed to be. They could be locked away behind closed doors just waiting for a key to be found. Perhaps time will heal all, and surly the rebounding Gryfindor Golden Boy will be back on his feet in no time. Then they could all go back to living their lives normally, pretending that the disaster never occurred in the first place. And if Severus had to obviate Potter afterwards then so be it. Doing so will be better for all of them. Both of their abasement would be spared.

Then again, because Potter is Potter, time might only be part of the cure. In Potter's case, (and Severus knew this well) nothing was simple when it came to dealing with the boy-who-lived, so why should all change now? The most absurd part of this whole entire situation was that Potter managed to remember Severus's name, and by recalling such a major detail what else was he capable of remembering?

'All thanks to the notorious Black for giving Potter that brain wave that was such a necessity', sarcastically thought the Potions Master as he gloated to himself about how the mutt was falling more and more apart by the second.

Potter, once again, had rejected the touch of his godfather's hand....

The corner of Severus mouth quirked upward from such a beautiful sight. Sadly though, as much as Severus wanted to leap for joy for watching his old childhood enemy succumb into misery, the old man standing right besides his defeated nemesis was strictly reminding him of otherwise.

It was the second time that day that Severus wanted to strangle the old coot.
That all-knowing expression was planted sternly on the ancient features even as his old battered hand entangled itself within such long, silver locks. The wrinkles that were tugging at the corners of Dumbledore's thinning lips were severely contorting his solemn frown. The old wizard's eyelids dropped suddenly as he shook his head in such a chiding matter at the young Potions Master. Reacting in ways as if he had been slapped in the face by the older man, Severus' thinly smirked lips retreated back to their normal harsh straight lines. A blush tinted his placid cheeks. Just leave it to Dumbledore to leave him feeling degraded like a first year. He deserved this though, even Severus had to admit that  he and Black are no longer the children they once were. Petty outbursts and name calling is clearly unacceptable for the two grown men.

Nonetheless, as "mature" as they were acting right at the moment, Potter's trembling was worsening as his godfather tried to shove his way past Severus to get closer to his kin. Black continued to reach out to the boy, either completely unaware of how distressed his godchild actually was or he was just plain dimwitted. Snape thought the ladder of the two, and so, had shot up in alarm. The idotic mutt obviously was ignoring how Potter's frame was going through such horrid convulsions and that his face was a sickly white color. It didn't help that both the werewolf and the Headmaster were enclosing themselves around the moaning Potter at an alarmingly fast pace as well. Madam Pomfrey also flew into action while she fiddled endlessly with the multiple glass vials of potions that were sprawling across Potter's night table.

Bat-like robes spilled beneath Severus' figure in such a grandiose matter attempting as he must to halt the boy's wild behavior. Potter, who was shaking his head side to side and babbling in complete nonsense, lifted up those haunted green eyes to Severus in a pleading way. To respond to this incredulous sight before him, the man's charcoal eyes began to search for what he so clearly never saw within Potter up until now.

"No...No please!" moaned the boy in what appeared to be uttermost agony, "Make it stop...please...make it stop!"

And as he begged, he slid closer to his Potions Professor's obdurate form seemingly sensing that there was a familiarity in the startled dark presence. Severus' was stunned, his emotionless mask had flashed in grand surprise.

The boy was wanting him, the evil Potions Master, as a direct source of comfort.

Two and two still failed to add up inside of the startled man's mind. Since when has Severus become classified as a coddler? Had he grown soft? Just what in the bloody name of Merlin is going on?!

Luckily for the startled Potions Master, he recovered quite quickly from the uncalled for movement. He always did, and not only that, he had too. If Severus could recover from one of the Dark Lord's infamous 'Crucios' then surely he would be able to get over this... sentimental type of sort coming from the form in who he loathed beyond no other.

"Potter," warned Severus in the heaviest drawl he could manage, but the boy's ramblings did not cease.

Hoping that his face somehow blundered to show the mortification that tainted his cheek bones of how Potter was "hugging" him, Severus could not find matters within himself to push Potter's clinging form away. The boy had to calm down somehow and the excess stress could very easily put him into a coma and cause more damage to his mind than what already was done. The boy needed potions, anything would help him now. Potter was going to flail into a full blown seizure if his trembling worsened.

"Easy now. Potter, You need to listen to me... focus on my voice. "

Greasy black curtains successfully hid away this concern quite well. There was no way he was going to allow the boy get into anymore danger than he was already in.

Severus paused at such a thought; If Potter managed to push the "off" button inside his head as he previously had... then...well...Severus couldn't fail him twice in a row now could he?

Could you? pushed his subconscious mind. Severus answered back with a swift infamous up curl of the lip.

Well what type of cretinous question was that to ask such a man of his intelligence? Of course he could fail Potter again, but would he? Now that was another.

It was two and two again...

No. He would never. Not after what he did.

Severus affirmed himself of the afterthought. After all, there was no way he would dare look into those fading emerald eyes for a second round. Severus was going to make sure of it, that they will be restored no matter the cost. He would sacrifice himself to bring them back to the body they belonged to he would do it, even if that particular body was the carbon copy of the first Potter...

Charcoal black eyes fell to a sorrier sight as that smaller body next to him pressed up roughly against his robes. There was a voice, feeble and smaller than one could imagine coming from the boy who was suppose to vanquish the Dark Lord one day.

"Please...," it said to Severus, "I didn't mean it...I'm sorry...

Then something in those charcoal black eyes of Severus' have shifted, and this time didn't recover. Two and two had finally became one, like as if the two guilts had been ceremoniously came together at last.

Severus, not believing that this could be true, that it was possible for he himself to be able to feel such guilt the same as Potter's, had grabbed onto the boy's shoulders to keep him balanced. Those emerald illuminations just had to focus upon his swallowing black ones, they just had too!

And they did brilliantly! It was their guilts that collided extraordinarily into one force. Never to be separated again.

Alive were those eyes, they had to stay that way! The must, they were the dark man's life sources and their survival was depending on him. They were abundant with the life that both of them needed more than anything else at that moment, Snape couldn't deny their importance. The boy was here to stay; Severus would make sure of it.

The snarky Potions Master leaned into his nemesis' ear and whispered to him in a voice that was not snarky at all. In fact it was rather soothing actually.

"Calm yourself," murmured Severus in a surprisingly gentle voice to the child he had proclaimed to hate for the past fifteen years. "Clear your mind, Occlude your thoughts."

Potter squeezed his eyes shut, his hyperventilating chest continued to rapidly heave up and down at a deadly fast pace. Fists that were too small for the boy's age were unconsciously balled around Severus black robes. The boy moved closer to his protector in blind fear of what was happening around him or rather, to him. Potter quickly glanced up to see the normally indifferent expression in Severus' eyes swirl in minor discomfort.

Potter had clung to Severus for the second time that day, but what else was left for a greasy haired Potions Master to do when he had to fix a broken child? The boy had to calm down, he just had to.

"Look at me," whispered Severus again so low that he was certain that only Potter could hear. The boy's panicked breathing began to recede slowly. His eyes cracked open to peak around but he did not dare look up at the other's perplexed expression. Dazed and confused, the broken boy remained transfixed in his unstable state until two hands were gently cupping his tear stained cheeks.

"Potter, Look at me."

The command was silkily said yet stern enough to be taken seriously, and as Severus brought a steady hand to Potter's chin and tilted it upwards, green eyes interlocked with black ones once more.

"Nobody is going to hurt you, Potter. I promise you that."

A truth? A lie? The bemused man could not decide upon it. Could he, Severus Snape, ever hold such a promise after what had just occurred back in his office? The look of security that Severus had tried to portray to the boy wavered in dubiety. He couldn't chance to fail again now could he?

But no, he had to. He had to chance everything now.

The frightened boy calmed as he gazed into Severus' face wanting to believe and to entrust himself to this strange man but also wanting more, what was possibly denied to him at such a young age. Severus' face grew harsher wanting that look to end, wanting it away...

"Now..." he started quickly snapping back to his old demeanor from feeling so uncomfortable, "Gain some control."

Then it changed again, the old way of handling Potter faltered as Dumbledore and the rest of them approached him and the boy as a union. Potter recoiled away from the crowd slamming his back against the wall.  Severus flared up, but this time differently.

How absurd was it that the outlet to his anger was no longer all on Potter.

"Away from him!" shouted the greasy haired man at the unwelcome mob. "He needs room to breath. Step. Away. Now."

Immediately, as if being stabbed by the harsh tone, Remus and Dumbledore retreated from the two of them. Black, still deranged and puzzled by his godchild's unusual behavior, continued to creep towards the unresponsive boy. Severus' eyes turned into two narrow slits as he gave the other man one of his infamous deadly glares. Again Black, who absolutely affronted by Severus, proceeded to crawl towards the boy ignoring the warning given. Hooded eyes widened and flashed in alarm as Potter's babbling nonsense only increased. This time more hysterically...

"STOP! I'm not-can't-them-I'm sorry...please! I'm sorry! NO!"

There wasn't much thought in what Severus did next, the normal precaution became irrelevant to him, thoughts weren't there, and only actions could speak for what couldn't be said. Jumping into something he should have foreseen, something that could have been prevented, Severus Snape assertively maneuvered his own body between Black's and Potter's. By doing so, and to everyones shock, he had effectively displayed an act of protection for a boy who was the carbon copy of his childhood enemy.

Yes. Concern for Potter.

Severus wanted to kick himself. Hard. Once again, there was no thoughts of "recovery" there.

It had been those "odd" feelings again that have been clawing at his insides earlier that had finally broken through. It had been what he wanted to be away from all along... and what he needed to be close to.

'How touching, are we caring for the brat now?' Scolded the dark robbed man silently to himself. The boy's pratty father would for certain turn over in his grave if he ever knew "Snivillus" had acted to protect his precious son.

The Potions Master's stomach did a back flip just as his face whitened several shades beyond what was the usual ghostly pale. How abhorrent that Severus felt forced to lower his eyes away from Potter's own godfather? He wouldn't look at the other's baffled expression now. Any other time, the priceless dumbfounded expression on the mangy mutt's face and the hanging jaw would have been a laughable sight. Instead, he was forced to advert his gaze away from Sirius Black, which at any other time would have been a death sentence. Not this time though, and not with Potter clinging onto the wrong man like he was and Severus being just that; the wrong 'parental' figure.

Snape was more than just mortified for life.

Not wanting to claim another mind grain, Severus caught the Headmaster's eyes blue and all-knowing, twinkling delightfully at his spy's atypical behavior toward the child Severus proclaimed to deeply dislike. The older wizard seemed to be enjoying Severus' humiliation more than he would be enjoying his blasted lemon drops.

Did it have to be the Potter boy? Did it have to be the living, breathing reminder of Severus' past and present and soon to be future? Why was it this child, the spoiled, pampered prince? Why was it Dumbledore's Golden One? Why Potter!??!

Why did have to be Harry Potter that he, Professor grueling Snape, had showed some type of concern for?

The child then grabbed two fist-fulls of his raven colored hair and pulled on the chunks repeatedly. Severus swiftly turned around to face the distraught boy. Immediately and with strong, steady hands, the man took hold of both wrists.

They were thin; too thin actually...and despite the chaos flailing towards Severus at every twist and turn, he had somehow managed to raise an eyebrow at this "minor" detail. Had the boy's wrist always been fragile enough to snap in two? Imaginably, this is probably why Potter always ends up in the infirmary. Malnourished was he? Severus was almost hesitant to wonder why.

Nonetheless he had, it was just that right now wasn't the right time.

"Poppy," Snape said trying to untangle the tightly gripped heaps of hair out of the boy's white knuckled fists, "I do believe that a sleeping draft is in order for him."

The little mediwitch with twitchy, jerky movements wrestled the cap off the top of one of the vials at hand. She quickly scurried over to Severus and bent down to examine the boy who was huddled up close to his side. Her calculating, beady eyes blinked multiple times as she handed the potion over to Severus.

"This should put him out for the rest of the night."

But the Potions Master was far off from being patient as he snatched up the draft, yanked back Potter's head, took the boy's jaw, pried it open, and emptied the contents down his throat.

Potter fell limp in his lap only moments afterwards and at this, Severus curled up a lip. His face contorted in anger as he lifted the unconscious boy up into his arms and rose to his feet. Unconscious or awake Potter always found a way to humiliate the hell out of him...so why was he so caught off his guard?

Luckily for the Potions Professor, he recovered in the nick of time.

It seemed that glaring daggers at the other shockingly still forms in the room and daring for them all to meet his malicious stare, came as naturally as brewing did for Severus. All did not insist to meet his livid expression except for one: the mutt.

Lifting up his abnormally large nose at the other individual, Severus carried the burden over towards the other insufferable being who looked so appalled that he might have as well regurgitated his lunch on Severus' shoes. On the contrary to that statement, the Potions Master was quite worse off than the mutt was. If he was given the opportunity he would have willingly threw up all his intestines and stomach on Black, the very organs which kept on giving him those familiar, horrific "odd" feelings.

"Take him, Black," he lazily drawled dumping Potter into the other's receiving arms, "Feel free to coddle him until he's senseless. That is of course, if you don't mind that he already is. "

The pronounced sneer was a challenging one but the other did not come forward for the fight. Instead Black brought his solemn gaze down from Severus to the flaccid body that was now accumulating the space in his arms. The werewolf, Lupin, came to his aid as the two of them together and with great gentleness, lowered the boy back down onto the empty cot. With sweeping black robes and a heated expression, the Potions Master turned on his heel and strolled down the infirmary isle way in a matter that was full of haste and bitterness. He wanted to get away from there, he needed to be away.

Away from Potter. Away from all of them!

Most importantly, Snape wanted to be away from those odd feelings constricting his judgment. Away from what is to come, what is to begin, yet to be seen, to be felt... Away from that word, that simple pathetic word "help" coming from the boy who never deemed to ask it from him.

Away from those eyes that had once belonged to the women he loved but implanted in the face of the man he hated. Away from the truth that he would see and from what he didn't want to see about the boy.

The truth. That in which he was away from what he had done...

Away from Potter.

"Severus," commanded the gentle voice of the old man whom he wanted to distance himself from as well. The younger man with his back still facing the older, came to a halt and managed to turn his oily curtains to the side. Dumbledore's expression wavered in knowledge unknown. His eyes, bright blue and lively, told Severus to follow him. The greasy haired man could only give the headmaster a curt head nod before he trailed off behind him to the other side of the room where it was private.

There was no running away from this now; Severus just had to accept that the fact was laying right out in front of his abnormally large nose.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and out of thin air, two rather plush armchairs popped into the room. One across from the other. The tension pressed roughly against Severus' spine as he sat down awkwardly in one the chairs, intently watching Dumbledore sit down with ease. Another snap of the old man's fingers and a coffee table with a rather large bottle of Firewhisky emerged before the two men. Two glasses appeared as well, and Dumbledore took both and filled them copiously.

"Whiskey?" insisted Dumbledore. Severus' eyes narrowed incredulously at the old Headmaster.

"I have already surpassed my alcohol consumption level, no thank you," said the younger man with a pronounced sneer.

Could it have been strictly the alcohol before that was the direct cause of his previous inane reactions to the-boy-who-lived? Blame just had to be put on something, might as well be the liquor.

"If you insist, my boy," sighed the older man, taking a small sip from his own glass. Holding the glass level with his eyes and swirling the rich crimson liquid from within, Dumbledore spoke frankly.

"I would like to discuss with you the possible mentoring arrangements for Mr. Potter for the duration period of his recovery. Finding a suitable mentor for the time being is indeed a priority. I was hoping you had an adequate suggestion, Severus." It was only then that the Headmaster thoroughly met Severus' gaze, the answer already clear on the distinct wrinkled face.

What was so dourly twinkling in the old Headmaster's eyes as well and did not pause in tormentingthe scowl on the Potions Professor's face which was deepening as minutes continued to pass at a dreadfully slow rate.

"None at all, Headmaster," declared Severus between clenched teeth. Dumbledore clasped his hands together happily and smiled wryly behind his lengthy beard in a way that made Severus seethe in pure anger.

"Then it's settled. Harry will stay with you."

The dismayed expression failed miserably to stay hidden behind the blank stony exterior that Severus had been struggling to retain throughout this entire nightmare.

"WHAT?!" shouted Severus in a voice that was wavering in total confusion and of shock.

Well of course he knew that he had to fix the boy but allowing Potter to live with him? That was suicide! He assumed that he would just be brewing potions, not bloody housing him! Dumbledore was crossing major lines, deadly ones, ones that should never be crossed without a price to pay.

"Potter? And in my personal quarters? That's abominable, Dumbledore!"

Hearing his own tone of voice made him flush a deep crimson color while his lingering eyes tried to pick up if anyone had heard or seen his outburst. The old wizard smiled at him lightly appearing free from the distress that Severus was displaying quite perfectly.

"Not to worry, my boy. A privacy charm is already in place."

"Oh really?" questioned Severus in pure hostility. "Then by all means go ahead and enlighten me on how Black's house-elf got a hold of our conversation."

The chuckle being emitted from the older man made the crimson color deepen several shades redder on the younger wizards distasteful features. He couldn't be sure if it was from the humiliation or out of his blinded anger that his face was being so contorted. The Headmaster's chuckle was replaced with a sigh; a reflection of a mistake that was made.

"Severus, that was my error, I do apologize for it," admitted Dumbledore humbly. "I should have set up a stronger privacy charm. It must have slipped my mind that house-elves are impervious to some minor spells and charms... "

However, Severus wasn't taking this from the sodding old man nor the thought that he, Severus Snape, could possibly be a mentor. Especially Potter's! His expression soured tremendously from the thought of it and the possibility that such a fairy tale could exist.

"Has it also slipped your mind that this is Potter who you are trying to appoint me as temporary guardian for?"

Albus shook his head and kept smiling that same pleasant smile. A rather controlled demeanor swept over his ancient features as he relaxed into his arm chair and watched with tranquility furthermore of the scene. Now riled up, Severus Snape stood abruptly from his seat.

"No, Severus it has not slipped my mind," replied the old man with an air of enlightenment swirling around his words. Severus, still looking absolutely livid, standing, had wasted no time to point a quaking, accusing finger at the Headmaster.

"Then you're mad, Headmaster! You can't be serious about appointing me as his mentor! Really? And in my quarters? It's Potter! How---?"

But Severus couldn't finish his sentence as his mind flew into a frenzy; his sweeping black robes bellowed out from bellow his feet as he rounded on his elder in a bat-like fashion. He was menacing enough to make any wizard fall over from the display. However Dumbledore did not flinch as his spy strode up to him, placed both hands on the arms of the chair and leaned in.

"Albus, you can't do this. There has to be somebody else."

However it was unfortunate that Severus' demand came out sounding more like a plea.

"I'm sorry, my boy, but I'm afraid there's nobody else fit for the job," frowned Dumbledore, yet to Severus he didn't appear as apologetic as he sounded. The Headmaster was eyeing him carefully in the same matter that he don e before at Grimmauld Place where Severus had unforgettably told a flat out lie about what happened to the boy.

"Fit for the job?" exclaimed Severus in a voice full of animosity as he dug his finger nails deeper into the armchairs cushions. "What about you, Albus? Who is better to protect the-boy-who-lived other than yourself? Take him back to headquarters with you where he'll be safe from both the Ministry and the Dark Lord."

But Dumbledore could only shake his head.

The Head of Slytherian was now fuming as he tore away from the chair and started to pace in fury, "Fine then. Hand him over to the Weasleys instead. I'm sure they'll keel over in joy for the opportunity. Or better yet, just send him back to his relatives where the blood wards are in tack. He'll be safer with them than with me! He'll be safer anywhere else!!"

Severus continued to ramble as he paced unevenly back and forth in front of the older man with the greatest energy he could muster up in each of his steps. His lungs felt like collapsing as he panted heavily.

"Harry has to stay at Hogwarts, Severus. The school is the safest place for him."

Severus' mobile eyebrows shifted upwards as he momentarily ceased his pacing and turned to the older wizard, "Safe? And with your absence? I think not, old man."

But Severus' words did not discourage his elder at all. An easy grin played gracefully on the ancient lips instead, "That's where you come in." The headmaster answered, folding his hands in his lap as he watched Severus continue his furious pacing.

"If he leaves, there will be too much talk about his whereabouts. Danger for Harry is at its peak." The headmaster continued, "The Ministry will get involved and so Voldemort will be on a hunting party for him if he is to discover his absence from the school. This we certainly can not risk to chance."

Severus spun around with a face that looked too painful for him to wear. He wasn't winning and he wasn't recovering well, "Then let McGonagall watch him! She's his Head of House."

But the headmaster did not take to the idea like he would to his own. Instead he shrugged, angering Severus severely.

"I'm afraid she doesn't have the time."

"And I do?" was the new flamboyant question.

"Severus, it can only be you. Her Gryffindors are being targeted by our new Headmistress. Professor McGonagall already has her fair share of work cut out for her with my absence from Hogwarts."

Severus spun around again to face the man who he wanted to get away from.

"What does that have to do with anything, Albus? You know I'm in over my head enough as it is with the classes that I'm teaching, spying for you and for the Order, and attending those grueling Death Eater meetings...The Dark Lord..." the man paused, his eyes swirling with a whole new form of energy.

"...what if he calls me when Potter is in my quarters? What am I to do then? Would I go to the Death Eater meeting or attend to the petty Potter brat instead?" murmured Severus more to himself than to the man who was sitting in front of him with ease.

"Then you may ask for assistance from Madam Pomfrey if it is required. Trust me Severus,  who is a better match to look after Harry and the wellbeing of his mind and health other than you? Really my boy, you should be giving yourself more credit. You are but a very highly skilled Occumens, a Healer and a Potions Master at large."

Severus suppressed the urge to groan as he raked his brain for other alternatives to get out of what was to smack him right in the face.

"Understandable, Headmaster, but there is much more at stake besides healing Potter's infernal brain of his. I am going to assume that our new Headmistress will find great difficulty in determining that the boy is oblivious to the world around him. Although I dare say that she won't with what Potter had displayed to us earlier," silkily stated Severus with a hint of malice in his voice.

Dumbledore sighed and brought a hand to his beard which made the younger wizard turn to him in wonder.

"Yes, Dolores Umbridge will propose a great threat to Harry if she is to discover his condition. This is why we will have to create a different excuse for the time being until the boy regains back most of his memories. Until then he won't be able to attend his classes or roam the school freely...please take your seat, Severus."

Severus glowered at the other before he gave up his pacing to reluctantly settle back down into the vacant armchair. "And to what extent are we excusing his condition?"

Severus was looking murderously at Dumbledore. The voice inside of him was screaming  to back down but continue to blindly protest what the old man was setting him up to do. He watched closely as Dumbledore leaned back into his chair and sipped at his whiskey contently.

"I was thinking something more along the lines of Mr. Potter coming down with an illness that will excuse his absence."

At this point Severus sat up his seat, his back went completely rigid and his expression and unreadable one. Severus looked back at Dumbledore with two broadly raised eyebrows and then sighed as he rested heavily in the armchair.

"Unless stupidity is an illness, Headmaster, I do not believe that Umbridge will fall for something elusive as such," he sarcastically commented.

Dumbledore gave his spy a chiding look, "An illness that is contagious, Severus. Perhaps then we can give reason for the boy to be quarantined in the infirmary when really, he will be staying with you in your quarters. "

"Is stupidity contagious, Dumbledore? I beg to differ...." Severus snidely remarked as he followed suit to pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Enough!" exclaimed the powerful wizard as his voice increased in volume, "This is a serious matter of discussion and your cooperation is needed so if you please..."

Severus stood up again, and not knowing what else to do, rounded on the Headmaster for the second time. His voice started out deadly low and only increased as he spoke. His normal black calloused eyes were glinting wildly, dancing like the flames in the mantle.

"Then if you want me to be serious, Headmaster, I highly suggest you abandon this hebetudinous idea of yours because if you haven't noticed already, Potter and I dislike each other entirely. This plan will not work. It. Won't", snapped Severus, his voice stinging like venom.

Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes turned to ones of ice as he glared at Severus in a way that meant business. Like a reprimanded student, the younger man paled and dumped himself back into his seat to deal with more than just the excruciating pain that flew into his head. He brought a hand to the bridge of his nose again, this time pinched it until it went numb.

Dumbledore looked at him seriously, "There is such a fine line between love and hate, surely you of all people would understand this most basic of ideas, Severus?"

Unfortunately, the younger man didn't want anything to do with the boy anymore. He wanted to make Dumbledore understand just that.

"It seems that I still remain unable to grasp the concept of why you can not allow us to simply leave him in the infirmary in order for the boy to receive the intensive care he needs. I will surly still be able to brew him the proper potions as it will be my responsibility to do so, and Poppy will be able to tend to Potter's every whim in more proper environment."

"Severus, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't ignore my question..."

The younger man scowled back at him, "Well I find that it does not meet the requirements to deserve an answer."

He shook his head at this again. He wanted to be away, he wasn't going to do it! There was too much silence between them untill...

"I won't do it, Albus. Not for Potter."

But he couldn't confirm this statement, not on the inside at least. He had known that Dumbledore had this coming to him so why did he keep denying that he would have to take full responsibility for what he done to Potter? Why was he running away from what he promised he would do to protect Lily's son?

Dumbledore sensed it, he knew it since the moment the younger man came to him that day that Severus was afraid.

"Will you do it for her then, Severus? Why.. I thought we've been down this path before.", said the Headmaster, throwing the words that Severus told him before right back at him in full force.

His expression had turned soft at this as he waited for his most trusted spy to answer him. The Potions Master looked up; a gleam was noticeable in his dark eyes despite how he tried to compose himself.

"I don't want to end up failing her again, Albus. Have you not come to realize this?!"

Dumbledore nodded his head in a comprehensive matter as Severus averted his painful gaze elsewhere. He couldn't meet the old man's expression acting out in such a piteous fashion.

Instead the Potions Master looked to the other side of the room where Black, Pomfrey, and Lupin were solemnly standing next to the cot of a boy with messy raven colored hair. There faces radiated off nothing but sadness.

"I know that, my boy. Believe me I know."

Severus slowly turned his haunted gaze back to the Headmaster.

"No you don't", the lower voice responded dejectedly, "If I can't fix him... "

Severus didn't get to finish his sentence as he allowed his black oily curtains to fall over his monotonous, yet crumpled expression. His eyes gleamed in something that was new, something that was strange. The unbearable, odd feelings were swarming up inside his chest eating him alive and he could not take it...

If he couldn't fix Potter, than what was he going to do? How would he deal with himself knowing that he had failed Lily again? How could he deal? The failure would be too much for him to live with.

Dumbledore's stringent expression forced Severus to sink deeper into the cushioning of the chair.

"Then at least you would have tried," he relentlessly said, "you would have realized the fear; you would have acted on the fear by doing what you feared to do anyway."

Severus' eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared daggers at one of the most powerful wizards in the world. He sank deeper into himself and for what he didn't want to be known.

"I am not a coward" snorted the Potions Professor meeting his gaze without shame. He watched carefully as the old man stood up from his seat and approached him with great caution. A gentle hand was being placed on his shoulder just then making Severus' head jerk up in surprise from the sudden touch.

"Then you know what you must do, Severus"

The realization had dawned upon him. Potter was going to live in quaters at Hogwarts and he, Severus Snape, was going to be a mentor, Potter's new guardian figure.

What is the wizarding world coming to? Severus had to wonder what was going to happen next. Perhaps The Dark Lord will strike them all down now while everything is spinning out of control.

And if Severus had to fix Potter, he would have to attempt fix himself along the way if he expected to get anywhere with this boy. Especially with those pesky memories returning back to that thick head, Severus had to be able to control himself around the unfavorable brat. At least Potter was oblivious for the time being and did not know who the sodding hell he was, but besides that Severus knew that nothing else was going to be easy for him.

While Severus was staring at practically nothing and allowing the realization to soak into him, Dumbledore's withered hand squeezed into his shoulder. The movement was enough to awaken the younger man out of the haze he was suffering in.

"I will see to the arrangements made to your quarters by the end of the week, Severus. Harry will have to stay in the infirmary until then, of course. I believe the rest you already know. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey will be happy to assist you with young Harry if you require the help."

Snape scuffed at such a thought "I will need nothing of the sort. My only concerns will be for Potter's mingling with that insufferable toad."

A raised hand cut him off with grace.

"Dolores will remain ignorant, but I do caution you to be on your guard at all time. Any suspicions and she will see to them in full force. I will assume that you will inform her immediately after her return that Mr. Potter has come down with a case of Spattergroit and will have to be quarantined in the infirmary until it passes. Do you have anymore questions for me, Severus?"

Will he survive this? Will Potter drive him into insanity after this mess ends?

These of course were all childish questions to ask the Headmaster so he refrained from voicing them. He would have persisted though if the fight was worth it or if he didn't feel so drained and so torn apart from the brutal discussion about the possibility which had just became a reality; that is mentoring the boy-who-kept-living.

There was still one more reasonable concern left on the outskirts of the Potions Master's mind not minding the others. Severus strengthened up and took a stand as well, watching as the armchairs, coffee table, Firewhisky, and glasses disappeared with a resounding pop.

"Yes, Headmaster," replied Severus in a tone that wavered between scattered thoughts. "What do I do with Potter when he starts to remember?"

Oh how that question was haunting him in more than just one way. What will he do when the boy realizes he had no parents? What will he say to the boy when he starts to see images of the Dark Lord? What about the numerous other ordeals Potter suffered prior to this point? And what about his friends? What about the memories Potter has of Severus himself? What if he doesn't understand at all? Or worse-what if he understands too much? He will have to relive it all within the small confines of Severus' quarters, within the even smaller confines of his mind. Severus will have to watch it all, help the boy, and hope that they both survive through such torture.

What if...

What if Potter remembers that it was he who threw that Jar of Dead Cockroaches at the boy's head because of Snape's worst memory of what he had seen?

Severus cringed as he thought of the word. No, not the word, the emotion that he often numbed whenever he thought back to times when he had felt it for her. That unatural sensation of worrying for another other than just his own skin. Black eyes glistened and bore into a twinkling blue that was full of sadness. No words were needed, they never have been.

But what will he do if Potter remembers that Severus had showed some type of concern for him afterwards? What will he do then? Dumbledore seemed to have an answer as he gazed at Severus with such great knowledge of what is yet to be understood.

"Severus, I believe you will know what to do when the time is right."

Severus ogled at the older man and his mouth was left gapping with such a riddle. For that moment in time he was wondering just how much the old man knew. The wise wizard smiled at him sincerely and patted his most trusted spy's shoulder in such an encouraging matter. With nothing left to say, Dumbledore turned to speak briefly with Madame Pomfrey as well as remove Potter's other companions from the room, leaving Severus standing in the mist of the confusion with such words swaying previous thoughts.

His face showed nothing but the pain that was so heavily placed upon his impassive expression. And this time you may ask? No, this time there wasn't any recovery.

No recovery at all...