It was mid-afternoon the following day and still Harry's word lingered in Snape's mind. He sat in his office and flipped through the instructions for the potion he was sure they both needed, although he was still quite skeptical if the timing was right or if they just wanted a solution to the insecurity and unfamiliarity of the situation.

It was going to take a little while to brew, not nowhere near as long as something like the polyjuice potion. There were a few complicated ingredients and preparations, however Snape had never run from a potion before and he wasn't about to start now; although, it wasn't the potion itself he felt the urge to run from but rather its effects.

There was a knock on his office door, even though it was partially open. He looked up, prepared to scowl at a student until he noticed who it was. Snape exhaled and turned back towards his reading, not sure if he looked forward to the upcoming conversation or not.

'Is this a bad time?' Synthia asked as she approached him and walked around behind him to look over his shoulder.

'Ah.' She nodded with understanding and moved to sit across from him. She felt weird sitting there as though she was a student again.

'I assure you're not merely “passing through” as you so falsely stated during our previous encounter?' Snape questioned and continued to move his eyes across the page he intently read.

'I could never lie well to you.' Synthia muttered, unhappy with that fact in which he kept reminding her of. 'And not entirely, I just wanted to see how you were doing. Is that so terrible?'

'If you must create an excuse to do so, yes.' Snape said.

'Okay I get it, you're an intimidating former Death Eater and the dungeon bat of Slytherin.' Synthia said in annoyance. 'But quit treating me like you do everyone else, as though my mere company is displeasing'.

He glanced up at her and stared at her expression for a moment before he spoke casually, clearly not bothered by what he had just said. 'Something is bothering you'.

'And so it is.' Synthia crossed her arms. 'I'm having trouble sleeping again.' She confessed.

'And you wish to acquire a vial of dreamless sleep?' Snape asked but narrowed his eyes as though he dared her to ask for it because in doing so, she would be going against their previous agreements.

'I wish to, yes. But I won't.' Synthia stated regrettably and lowered her head. 'I'm having dreams about dad again'.

Snape stiffened slightly but said nothing as she continued although he would much rather read about the potion and think upon Harry calling him by that same word, “dad”.

'Is it like this with Draco?' She wondered.

'Draco's parents remain alive.' Snape state in a low tone.

'Even though, the situation is the same.' Synthia was on her feet again. 'You went to school with both his parents and mine! You became friends with...well, actually you only went to school with my mother, but you knew my father from your neighborhood, that's close enough!' As she spoke, Snape quickly warded the door and magicked it close.

'They made you godfather of us both and to us you're like our uncle' Synthia said. 'Granted, I am an adult now...but still, Severus...I'm lost.' She sank back into the chair. 'I need to feel, even for a moment, that I am helping with something or changing something for the better'.

Snape thought about this for a moment and glanced down at his book before the idea came to him. 'Perhaps, there is a task in which you may assist me with.' He told her.

'Really?' Synthia glanced up eagerly until she became suspicious and narrowed her eyes. 'What? And don't say brewing a potion because I may be tempted to act childish'.

'Apart from myself, the boy and the headmaster, you are the only other person aware of the situation.' Snape said and she sat up straighter.

'You are more apt at dealing with children than I. Perhaps you should introduce yourself? You are so fond of stating our relation even though there is none, and yet, perhaps Harry would delight in discovering he has a...cousin? One in which he can get along with; I have gathered that he does not like his muggle cousin'.

'It won't be the same though.' Synthia said. 'Since I'm an adult, maybe Draco would be a better option?'

Snape could only smile at that suggestion. 'Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter are not what you would refer to as being “on friendly terms”, Synthia. However, I am sure you can familiarize with Harry's situation...as an orphan'.

'Hm.' Synthia nodded and glanced at him. 'Okay, I'll think about it. But I better get going, I was only meant to drop by shortly and I feel you have a visitor.' She stood and waved goodbye before walking towards the door. Sure enough, there stood a Slytherin prefect behind the door, about to knock.

'Thank you for the suggestion, Professor Snape.' Synthia called over her shoulder and disappeared from sight.

'What?' Snape glared at the prefect and snapped his book shut. Ten minutes ago he had been peacefully reading and stressing; it appears that moment has been lost.

Harry sat in the library nearby the historical section and under the constant gaze of Madam Pince as he tried desperately to focus on his school work but with little progress. Hermione was around somewhere busy with her many other studies while Ron had bailed out of homework to play chess with Fred in the common room. Harry was determined to continue with his task of keeping his grade higher than they normally were and as a result, to impress his father as well as feel good about his own skills. But with the way his mind was constantly shifting to non school-related topics, it was extremely difficult to find the earliest history of Goblin wars to be even remotely interesting.

Sighing with premature defeat, Harry removed his gaze from the sentence he had been staring at for at least ten minutes and looked over towards a group of colder students nearby. He spotted mostly Ravenclaws and Gryffindors and envied them for having done the homework he was working on already as well as for enjoying themselves while he suffered through his assigned hell. A Ravenclaw boy noticed his gaze and narrowed his eyes angrily as though Harry had offended him. Blushing, Harry quickly glanced away and tried to focus on his schoolwork again but it was with no progress than the one paragraph he had struggled to write an hour ago.

After he returned his borrowed books back to their rightful shelves, Harry gathered his things and left the library. He didn't glance back once but if he had he would have noticed the Ravenclaw boy suddenly ditching his friends to follow him.

'Hey, Potter!' Harry heard a voice call him and quickly turned around, thinking for a brief moment that it was Draco. He raised an eyebrow at the sixth year Ravenclaw that had frowned at him earlier and wondered what he wanted.

'Er, yeah?' Harry asked.

'Where are you going in such a hurry?' The boy asked and reached into his robes pocket for something. Harry thought for a fleeting moment that he was going to have a wand pointed at him and instantly tried to think of a spell that he could use to defend himself against a sixth year; something he believed to be impossible.

'Why do you care?' Harry asked defensively.

'I don't.' The boy smirked and revealed a small container that he had pulled from his pocket. He opened it as he approached Harry and instead of the crawling spiders or goo that Harry had expected, he saw only a fine light power.

'Know what this is?' The Ravenclaw questioned.

'No.' Harry rolled his eyes. 'Washing power?'

'Huh?' The boy looked confused but shook his head. 'Not stupid, it's your future.'

'I don't think I want to be cremated.' Harry took a step back and didn't like the weird conversation with this boy. He vaguely wondered if he was in danger or if he was going to be pranked. Seriously, what did this boy want with him? He didn't even know who the Ravenclaw was!

'I'm...gonna go.' Harry stepped back again.

'No, you're not.' The older boy grabbed his shoulder tightly and sneered close to Harry's face. 'You make yourself out to be some sort of hero, well you're not.' He growled.

'You're a fraud and an idiot. People worship you for your luck and ability to escape what you deserve.'

'Let me go!' Harry squirmed and hoped someone would walk along the corridor to see them and maybe report this boy to a teacher because his grip was too tight and he couldn't free himself.

'Your father got what he deserved.' The Ravenclaw said. 'It's time you should too.' He shoved Harry hard and as the younger Gryffindor stumbled backwards, the Ravenclaw blew the contents of the metal container all over him.

Harry hit the floor roughly, his elbows and rear hurting as he glanced up at the cloud of ash-like powder. He coughed and choked as it hit him and felt his lung ache with the impact of inhaling whatever it was that the boy had blown on him; it certainly wasn't washing powder.

'Enjoy.' The boy chuckled and turned to leave.

Harry remained on the stone floor and squinted as his vision blurred and the corridor he was seeing became two darker ones. There was a figure up ahead but he couldn't quite make it out until he heard Hermione's voice calling to him.

'Harry!' She rushed to him. 'Harry, are you alright?' Hermione knelt beside him and placed a hand on her shoulder.

'Huh?' His vision returned to normal and he recognized his friend more clearly. 'Oh, yeah. I think so.' Harry got to his feet and dusted off his robes although despite the powder he'd had blown on him, none of it fell from his clothes and his glasses were not clouded with the substance. He inhaled sharply when his head suddenly hurt and his balance suffered, causing him to fall onto the ground again.

'Harry!' Hermione stressed. 'Don't move, I'll go get Madam Pomfrey.' She told him and hurried off in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

Harry winced and lay on his side, his face paling as his head pounded with pain and blood dripped from his nose onto the stone floor. His schoolbooks and belongings were scatted around him on the floor and the air felt thicker to breathe. Harry wondered what that powder had done to him, if he was being drugged or if it was a powdered potions ingredient; he wasn't sure which could be worst.

--

'Harry?' A voice spoke softly to him and abruptly all his pain and confusion was gone. He was no longer lying on the cold floor of the corridor but instead the carpeted floor of a living room. He rolled onto his back to get a look at who was talking to him since his entire body felt sluggish and unresponsive. He saw her red hair and emerald eyes. He gasped and stared at her, sure that this couldn't be real.

'Harry?' She asked again. 'Why are you lying on the floor?'

Harry looked around and saw that he was in an unfamiliar house decorated in mild colours and oak furniture and yet it was covered in cobwebs and dust.

He swallowed and went to ask her what had happened but found he could not speak, his throat was dry and numb, as though it hadn't been used in a very long time.

'Oh Harry, have you been up to no good again?' Lily sighed as she shook her head and straightened, dusting off her blue robes. As she stared at him, she began to fade away until Harry was all alone. Suddenly he could move and speak again as he jerked upright and reached towards the place where his mother had just been.

'Mum!' Harry shouted to her. 'Come back!'

'Your mother doesn't like it when we raise our tone inside.' Another voice said and Harry glanced over at his father with the same glasses and hair as he had.

'Sorry.' Harry wanted to say but his voice was gone again. He wanted to run to his real father and hug him, tell him how much he missed him and how he wished he was still alive. He couldn't.

'I could always tell what you were thinking, Harry.' James said. 'You look confused and thankful, but you shouldn't.' He shook his head in disappointment.

'This isn't real. We're dead, remember?'

Harry swallowed and inhaled sharply, still void of pain and yet he felt the loss of losing them all over again, the dull ache in his heart whenever he thought of the parents he had lost.

James glanced towards his watch and sighed. He stepped towards Harry and crouched in front of him with a sympathetic expression.

'This isn't real.' James repeated in a low voice. 'It's all a delusion. You're losing your mind, Harry. All of your memories and pieces of your life, of reality, are fading and soon they will all be gone.' He told him and Harry felt cold when he heard those words. Fearful, and cold.

Harry tried to speak, to deny what he was being told by his dead father, determined that it wasn't true, but words failed him once again.

'You won't remember anything.' James stood again and stared down at him in his deep red robes as he fixed his glasses higher on his nose. 'Every memory will be replaced with fantasy...you won't know what's real or who anyone in your life was.'

'No.' Harry choked out as his father began to fade away.

'It will all be gone, Harry.' James said with a dark expression as he vanished.

'Not even Severus Snape can save you from this one.'

Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore and Snape stood around Harry's bed where the boy lay pale and unresponsive. His eyes were closed but he winced every once and again, mumbling incoherent words as he mostly remained still. They had been tending to him for over three hours and nothing had worked. He would not wake nor did he appear to be aware of anything around him.

'I think we have no choice now.' Dumbledore said gravely. 'We're going to have to transfer to him to St. Mungo's.'

'Are you sure, Albus?' Poppy asked worriedly while Snape turned as pale as Harry was, silently having a mental fit of concern and desperation to do something useful.

'I fear it will be too late if we don't.' Dumbledore sighed. 'There's nothing we can do for him now, but I will make sure he's under our supervision still. Severus, if you would?'

'I will not leave the boy's side.' Snape nodded as he continued to stare at Harry. His words sounded more like a threat than a promise but no one noticed.

--

Meanwhile, in Hogsmeade...

'I received word from Arron.' A wizard stated as he pulled his hood around his face and left the Hog's Head with his brother. 'It is done.'

'The Potter boy has been infected?' The darked toned and more heavily scarred wizard returned, not caring about showing his bearded face to the crowd.

'The powdered potion has entered his system upon immediate contact, yes.' The first wizard nodded. 'My son did as he was told. Potter will shortly begin losing his mind, voiding it of anything important and replacing it with random uselessness.'

'Good.' The darker one chuckled. 'Then the revenge begins. Our tormentor may be gone, but his son will suffer in his place. Even in death, James Potter will regret ever thinking he was above his schoolmates.'