Thursday, and the weekend was quickly approaching. On Sunday, following long-standing Weasley tradition, everyone would be off to Playa de Magico, an all-wizarding beach on the southern coast of Spain near Malaga. When they returned a week later, start of term would be less than a week away.

Harry and Molly hadn't gone on holiday last year as Ginny had still been in St. Mungo's. The accident had happened in May, and already hope for a full recovery was fading, so Harry had insisted that Hermione and Ron go, and they had offered to take the Potter children as well. It had been a godsend for the kids—helping to lift James out of his depression by returning them to something like normalcy and allowing all three to expend their excess energy with their cousins on the sand and in the sea and to toss their frustrations into the waves with the small, smooth stones of the Mediterranean shore.

"You have to come this year, Harry," insisted Hermione. They had been arguing back and forth now over tea for some time. Harry insisted that he stay with Ginny, allowing Molly to get a much-needed break and giving him the opportunity to further prepare for the imminent term. Hermione, on the other hand, proposed that Percy and Penny stay with Ginny. They were not going on holiday this year as Penny was seven months pregnant, a pregnancy that had both broadsided and delighted the couple, as Penny was well into her 40s. They had offered to stay at the Burrow with Ginny and their children would be accompanying George and Angelina and their brood.

"I want to come," said Harry, sighing. "I missed it last year. It was such a good experience for the kids after the summer we had." He looked across the table at Minerva, who reached out and patted his hand.

"Go, Harry. Don't feel guilty about it and don't use your new job here as an excuse not to go. You could teach Defense with a hand tied behind your back."

Next to her, Severus, who was trying to decompress after another memory restoration session with Stuart, snorted.

"Not your wand hand if you're in with a class of Gryffindors," he said.

Hermione laughed out loud.

"I think those sessions with Stuart are working," she said.

Severus grimaced. He had come down to the Great Hall from the infirmary fifteen minutes ago at Poppy's insistence that he have some fortifying tea before he headed home. Harry, Hermione, Minerva, Neville and Hagrid were gathered around an oblong table on the faculty platform, a smaller table used only in summer time when the majority of the staff was away. Today's memory had him removing the Sword of Gryffindor from its hiding place, preparing to bring it to the forest where Harry and his friends were camping. The memory, once replanted, had immediately brought forth a string of related images, of Severus watching, hidden in the trees, as Harry retrieved the sword, aided by Ron Weasley, of Ron ultimately destroying the horcrux. The rush of memories around that single event had left him panting, nearly out of breath, holding his head against the sharp pain until Poppy gave him a headache potion and Stuart advised him to come back the next day then take the weekend off.

"How did it go today?" asked Harry as the others continued to talk.

"Successful…again," said Severus. "The memory today seemed to trigger new…." Severus paused, looking for the appropriate word. "Connections, I suppose," he said. "The memory involved me removing the Sword of Gryffindor from its hiding place in my…the headmaster's…office but it triggered additional memories almost immediately, ones that were already within me, that I apparently had not given you twenty years ago."

Harry's gaze was steady as he regarded Severus. "The forest?"

Severus nodded, the briefest of nods. Harry could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "I remember watching you…following the doe…going into that pond after the sword. Your friend's arrival was fortuitous. I had no inkling that you would go into the water with the horcrux. I am not sure what I would have done if Weasley had not appeared."

Harry's gaze didn't waver. "I'm not sure what we would have done without that sword. That horcrux was destroying us. It was the only one we'd found up to that point, and we didn't know how to destroy it. The sword came…you gave it to me…at just the right time. All these years I've regretted never having been able to thank you for that. So…thank you."

Severus nodded again, acknowledging Harry's statement, then changed the subject.

"If I may…" he began, glancing at Hermione who had just poured herself more tea and was watching them. "The conversation you were having a moment ago, about going on holiday—why isn't Ginny going along?"

Harry had been reaching for a biscuit and his hand stalled in midair. Hermione slowly put down her teacup and Minerva and Hagrid stopped discussing the dwindling thestral herd. All eyes were on Harry, waiting for his response.

"We never even considered it," he answered, a puzzled look in his eyes. He glanced over at Hermione, then back at Severus. "I suppose we all just assumed it would be too much for her—the floo travel, being away from home, all the people…"

"Keeping an eye on her at the seaside, dealing with her outbursts or odd behavior with all those other witches and wizards around…" Severus raised an eyebrow in query and Harry bristled slightly.

"I take it you think we're being selfish not to include her? You do understand that I've offered to stay home with her, don't you?"

"I'm not suggesting that you—or any of your family—are being deliberately selfish," answered Severus as he refreshed his tea, pouring piping hot water over fresh leaves. "I'm simply challenging you to examine your motives. You think, by not including Ginny in your family travels, that you are protecting her, shielding her, perhaps, from the outside world, keeping her from further harm. Yes?"

"Of course," answered Harry. "That's part of it, yes." He looked at Severus, narrowing his eyes. "But you have to remember that Ginny isn't just anyone. She's famous—famous for being a Potter, for being a Weasley, for being a professional Quidditch player. She'd be recognized almost anywhere we'd go."

"And?" asked Severus, looking at Harry as he stirred cream into his tea.

"And…" began Harry. His voice trailed off as he looked helplessly at Hermione.

"She wouldn't want people to see her like that." Hermione's voice was soft and she reached over and squeezed Harry's hand.

"Oh?" asked Severus. "So if I asked her today if she would like to go on holiday at the Spanish coast, she'd say she doesn't want people to see her…like that."

"You know what she means," said Harry tiredly. He caught Severus' eyes and stated more confidently. "But you think we're wrong. I'm listening. Go on—explain."

Severus placed his teacup on its saucer and rotated it slightly as he considered his answer. Finally, he looked up at Harry. Minerva stood and politely excused herself, calling for Hagrid to come with her and show her the thestral herd, but Hermione remained where she was sitting, waiting for Severus to speak.

"Harry," he said gently, his tone of voice so unlike the Severus Snape of Harry and Hermione's Hogwarts days that Harry wondered how much of Stephen Squires would remain in Severus once he had full control of his lost memories and hoped that a good portion would. "Ginny is not the same person that flew for the Harpies or gave birth to your children. She's not the same person you married. She isn't the same person that went to school here either. Brain injuries are complicated; the brain is complicated." Harry's face had taken on a certain look, a look Severus had seen many times in the years he'd been researching memory loss and brain trauma.

"I know all about the brain, Severus," said Harry. "Listen, I do appreciate what you're doing…what you're trying to do…but we've heard this all before…"

"Let me finish—please," asked Severus. "I don't think you've heard what I'm about to say."

Harry forced himself to relax in his chair. He leaned back and loosened his death grip on his teacup. Hermione chose a biscuit from the serving plate and placed it on his napkin.

"Harry, you need to let go of the Ginny you knew before the accident…"

"I have let her go!" protested Harry, interrupting Severus and rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly and he squeezed back, harder than he had intended.

"Again, let me finish. Please." The patience Severus was exhibiting both surprised and calmed Harry. He sighed and picked up his tea, taking a long drink and then looking back at Severus.

"As I was saying, you need to let go of the Ginny you knew before the accident. She will never be that person again. She may never be able to be a mother to your children, or a wife to you."

"I know that." Harry's voice was soft. "It doesn't make it easier to accept, but I do know that."

"But—and this is the part I don't think you've heard before, Harry—but that doesn't mean that Ginny can't get better. She is going to have to relearn nearly everything—how to make a cake, how to fly a broom, how to take care of a child, how to swim." He paused, took a deep breath. "The brain is incredibly complex. It will try to heal, but in order for Ginny to get better, she must have new experiences. She cannot learn to swim in the den of the Burrow, Harry."

"it's a metaphor, right?" asked Harry, thoughtfully regarding the tea leaves in his cup. He tilted it, looking, as he always did after finishing a cup, for the grim.

"Learning to swim?" asked Severus, smiling.

Harry looked up at the ceiling in the Great Hall. The sky was a deep cerulean blue today, with lazy white clouds grazing comfortably in it. It looked like a child's drawing.

"Yeah," said Harry. "You're saying I have to let her go, aren't you? Stop hoping the old memories, the old Ginny, will come back and let her back into the world to start all over again."

Severus was quiet for a moment. Hermione looked resolutely at Severus, her eyes beginning to glitter with unshed tears.

"If you love her, yes," answered Severus.

"If you love something, set it free…" began Harry.

Severus scoffed.

"I'm afraid that saying has only partial relevance when it comes to brain injuries, Harry," he said. "What I'm telling you is this—Ginny has the capacity to learn. Consider last night at the Burrow—she was not able to tell us how many eggs she used in the cake but she knew how many. She was able to show us by miming the process of breaking the eggs into the bowl. You need to learn to think outside the box with Ginny…" He paused, considering their puzzled expressions. "Muggle saying," he explained. "It means to look at something from a new perspective—unconventionally."

"I can't just give up on her," said Harry, his voice plaintive. Severus had not seen Harry like this in the short time he'd been back in the Wizarding World. "I love her…"

"Harry." Severus' voice commanded Harry's attention and he resolutely looked up. "I am not asking you to give up on Ginny. No one is asking that. No, I'd suggest that you help her get better because you do love her. But I caution you now that love grows on top of many other emotions and experiences, and those emotions and experiences may be missing or different with Ginny. I know no easy way to say this Harry—divorce is very common among patients with brain injuries."

"I have no plans to divorce my wife," said Harry flatly. He looked up at Severus, his eyes direct but not cold. "You probably don't remember, Severus, but divorce isn't common in the Wizarding World."

"Which may explain why my mother stayed with my alcoholic, verbally abusive father," said Severus tightly. His memory restoration session the day before with a young Lily asking him how things were at home had brought some of the more unpleasant aspects of his childhood to the surface.

Harry's face had taken on a pained expression. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "That's not what I…"

"I know," said Severus. He paused, considering how to continue down this very difficult line. "Harry, I am not advocating that you set your wife free in the world to develop new relationships while you start dating other women. I am simply trying to be realistic and to spare you from… surprises… down the road. While I have specialized in Alzheimer's and senior dementia these past seven years, I started my research five years before that with brain trauma patients, like Ginny. In the Alzheimer's wards, I have seen new relationships form between people who have been married to others for nearly fifty years."

"You don't paint a very uplifting picture," said Harry darkly.

"I'm pragmatic. One has to be in this profession. You wondered if I could help Ginny. I think I can. But I want to make it very clear to you that helping Ginny might not mean restoring her to be a mother to your children and a wife to you again. I cannot put it any more plainly than that."

Harry was quiet for a very long time. Hermione did not let go of his hand. Finally, he blinked his eyes several times then looked up at Severus.

"Thanks. I appreciate your candor, as hard as it is to accept. I suppose when I get right down to it, I want Ginny to have a better life." His voice shook slightly as he spoke. He turned to Hermione. "Well, let's go tell Molly that Ginny's going with us to Playa de Magico."

Hermione leaned in to hug Harry, giving Severus a grateful smile over her friend's shoulder.

/

Packing occupied most of the next day, with even more activity now that Ginny was going with them. The children seemed happy, if a bit confused, and Lily peppered Harry with questions. Where would Mom sleep? Would she wear her nightgown to bed as she did when she lived with them or her two piece pajamas like she wore at the Burrow?

Severus had gone in to work again in the morning, but had asked to meet Harry and Molly in the evening to discuss some ideas he had about Ginny and the coming holiday. Harry, for his part, wanted to speak to Severus privately before his first introduction to the Hogwarts Board of Governors, which would happen while they were away in Spain. He also needed to make sure Severus could apparate. He felt like a nervous father, sending his first son off to Hogwarts, leaving him alone to face the magical world.

Anna had, of course, been invited on holiday with them, but Severus has declined, noting that it was the last full week he'd have with her before she set off to Hogwarts, leaving him to rattle around all by himself in his big house. Harry countered that it was hardly big, being more like a cozy cottage than a rambling mansion, but had told Severus that he certainly understood. Maybe next year, he had suggested, they could all go together, with the Snapes joining the Weasleys for the traditional holiday in Spain.

Stuart moved Severus' Friday session back to four o'clock, and Harry arranged to meet Severus at one o'clock for lunch in London. Severus named a pub close to his place of employment, and Hermione mapped it out for Harry and printed out directions. While Harry, having grown up in a Muggle household, was comfortable with Muggle transportation, money and basic technology, he'd gotten lost so often in London when left to his own devices that his friends and family routinely drew out maps for him now.

Severus was already at the pub when Harry arrived, sitting in a quiet corner with a pint and thumbing his smart-phone. He had on a pair of dark-rimmed reading glasses. He looked every bit a Muggle in this environment, but Harry knew that Severus' wand was somewhere on him now and that before the new term was out there would be a potions lab in his house and he'd be haggling with the apothecaries in Diagon Alley over ingredient prices. "Highway Robbery!" he'd say, after learning that armadillo bile was three times the price he remembered it being. "Armadillos have taken over the American South and Midwest! Surely the price should have gone down!" And there would be explosions and mishaps as Severus combined Muggle chemicals with traditional wizarding potions ingredients, and Muggle test tubes would be drying on the rack next to hand-blown potions vials.

Harry ordered a pint at the bar then joined Severus, settling into the booth and sliding his ale across the uneven surface of the old wooden table.

"The meat pies are particularly good here," said Severus. "And the treacle tart."

"I love treacle tart," said Harry idly. He had picked up a menu and was studying it. Severus pocketed his phone, pushed his glasses up on top of his head and took a long sip of his drink.

They chatted while they waited for their food, discussing Severus' announcement to his employer that morning that he would be taking a sabbatical, and Harry's continuing insecurities about how successful he would be as a Hogwarts professor. When their food arrived, Harry cast a non-verbal Muffliato and launched into the reason he'd wanted to confer with Severus in the first place—Lucius Malfoy and the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

"I am not surprised that the man has ulterior motives," Severus said after listening to Harry. "I assume he expects to be able to control me—and my decisions—on the board."

Harry placed his fork on his plate and swallowed. "Control you, yes," he said, "but not necessarily on the board, Severus. I'd suggest that he wants to keep you close instead. By arranging this position for you, he's elevated you in status. He's done something very specific for you and everyone will know it. In short, he's either paid you back for something and you're even now or you owe him one, Severus."

Severus considered this for a moment, eyes focused on something off in the distance as he struggled to work with the implications of this statement.

"It's different in the Muggle world," said Harry. He pushed potatoes around on his plate, soaking them in the gravy swimming there. "At least in Muggle Britain. Here," he drew his fork in an arc, indicating the pub around him and by extension, the Muggle world to which it belonged. Potatoes flew off the end of his fork and Severus frowned. "Sorry," said Harry, replacing his fork, but he looked much more amused than apologetic. "What I mean is that Muggles are grateful when someone helps them out, pushes their resume to the top of the stack or gives them a heads up that there's going to be a vacancy somewhere, but wizards, especially wizards of higher status like Malfoy, are very deliberate about these things and are always planning three or four steps ahead."

Severus was dabbing at his shirt with a wet napkin and Harry realized that the potatoes must have landed there.

"Here—let me," he said, doing a wandless, non-verbal Scourgify. The shirt was immaculate again and Severus dropped the napkin, examining it then looking up at Harry with eyes narrowed.

"Don't tell on me," said Harry. "Technically, we're not supposed to do magic in front of Muggles…"

"Harry, I'm aware by now that not every witch or wizard can do magic without a wand. You elect to let me see you but hide it from others. Why is that?

Harry shrugged, picked up his pint glass and downed the dregs of his drink. "Just a feeling, really," he answered as he leaned back slightly in his seat and regarded Severus. "But I think you're going to find yourself in a similar situation—when you start immersing yourself back in our world."

Severus dropped his voice a notch. "I felt the spell you put up earlier. What was it?"

Harry grinned. "One of yours—Muffliato. It muffles the sound in a confined area so you can't be overhead. Dead useful."

"What do you mean—one of mine?"

"Literally, one of yours. You created a number of spells yourself, some while you were a student at Hogwarts." Harry leaned in. "Do you remember…the Half-blood Prince?"

Severus closed his eyes as the familiar name washed over him. Yes, he did remember. The memories of his years at Hogwarts, of his life at home on Spinner's End, all of those were starting to seat themselves in his mind, anchoring to other memories before and after them. He wondered how long he'd have to have the memories back, how many times he'd have to sort through them like lost artifacts, before they would feel like family members in his brain instead of like houseguests.

"It is a name—a moniker—I used for myself. Prince was my mother's name. My father was a Muggle."

Harry nodded. "When I was a sixth-year, I had your old Potions textbook. But I didn't know it was yours—it was inscribed 'Property of the Half-blood Prince' and it was full of spells and notes and alterations to the potions instructions—all in your handwriting. I tried a lot of the potions instructions and they were brilliant." He paused, then drove on. "I also tried out some of the spells, some like Muffliato have become pretty widespread today."

Severus gathered that others were not so useful. He didn't ask Harry to continue. The man was obviously uncomfortable.

"Where is this book now?" he asked instead, wondering if having it would help him tie even more of his past together.

"Lost," said Harry, his voice full of more regret than Severus thought should be accorded a book.

"Lost?" he asked. "Care to explain?"

Harry shrugged. "There was a fire during the Final Battle. It gutted one of the manifestations of the Room of Requirement. That's where I had hidden the book."

Severus leaned back and stared at Harry Potter for a long moment. There was another story here but he let it go for the moment, knowing that there would be a large number of these stories as he worked to understand the man he used to be.

"We've digressed from our original topic," he said instead. "Lucius Malfoy."

Harry nodded and leaned in, more comfortable with this topic of conversation than with the previous one. Retired from the Auror Corps or not, his mind still worked like an Auror's, strategically fitting details together, rearranging and reconnecting them until they led to a logical conclusion.

"I'm suggesting that Lucius gave you this position for a reason. He either wants to be even with you so he is no longer beholden to you, or he wants you to be beholden to him. The problem is, I don't know which one it is and my guess is that you don't either."

Severus shook his head slightly. "I am beginning to recall much from those last few years before I lost my memory," he said. "I believe my position with the Dark Lord was different than his." He looked at Harry, trying to find the words to express this gut feeling he had. "Higher…more trusted, I believe," he finished. Oddly, saying this made his stomach feel hard and tight, like he had eaten too much at one sitting.

"You were his spy inside Hogwarts, or so he thought at least," supplied Harry. "But during that last year, while you were headmaster at Hogwarts, Voldemort based his operations out of Malfoy Manor. He used Draco, had given him the task of killing Dumbledore the year before. Lucius and Narcissa lived in constant fear…"

"As did I," interrupted Severus, his voice hard.

"I'm not trying to belittle what you went through," said Harry. His own voice was calm. He met Severus' eyes. "Listen, these are difficult waters to tread. There's no way we can sort this out without dredging up things that frankly should stay just where they are—undisturbed. They'll be time enough in the coming months to sit over a beer or two or four and work through it all. For now, let's focus on Lucius' motives for putting you on the Board of Governors. I think he's trying to even things out, frankly. He doesn't know what you remember and what you don't, but I'm betting that he wants you close to him if you do realize what he owes you." Harry fiddled with his spoon. "As if making the Unbreakable Vow with his wife wasn't enough—or saving his son after you killed Dumbledore…"

Severus stared at Harry a moment. He had a brief flash of something, of joining hands with Narcissa Malfoy, of vowing to help Draco accomplish the goal the Dark Lord had set for him. As for killing Dumbledore, that particular memory had come to him two nights before in his dreams. He pushed it back down where he'd buried it, wanting to be somewhere alone when he allowed it to surface again. There would be plenty of time next week, when Harry and the Weasleys would be away on holiday.

"I will do what I can to exhibit the appropriate amount—and kind—of gratitude to Lucius," said Severus.

"Good," said Harry. "I think it should come naturally to you, after a time, anyway. Remember that your name was totally cleared after the War. He spent time in Azkaban. You may both be free men today, but wizarding society looks at you as a war hero and at Lucius as a reformed Death Eater."

"I dislike that name," said Severus. "I think I always have."

"Me too," answered Harry, thinking for a moment of the Resurrection Stone and the brief time he'd walked with his parents, and Sirius, and Remus. They sat quietly for another long moment, then Harry spoke up again.

"Severus, there's something else we should discuss—we don't have a lot of time now, but I'll bring it up so you can consider it before I get back from Spain."

"Go on," said Severus. He checked his watch. Two thirty in the afternoon—they'd have to head back to his house in Surrey soon if he was going to make his four o'clock appointment with Stuart.

Harry saw him check his watch. "Don't worry about the time," he said. "I'll side-along apparate you to the gates of Hogwarts when we're ready. I wanted to work with you on apparition, anyway…"

Severus nodded and tried to let go of his long-engrained muggle worry about time.

"It's about the Board of Governors position. You probably noticed that Minerva perked up quite a bit when it came up with Lucius." Severus nodded. He'd definitely picked up that she was more than delighted. "Well, she's more than just happy for you. She's going to retire at the end of this school year and the Board will choose the new headmaster of headmistress. She's held on so many years because she's wanted to accomplish a few things before she retires—some things that she believes will make Hogwarts a better school. She's managed to get a couple items on her agenda pushed through, but some others have been blocked by the board—specifically, by old Arturis. He was one of the ones that promoted an increased attention to physical education and helped establish the swimming team. Seems that Dumstrang was pulling ahead of Hogwarts in that area." He laughed. "Minerva was thrilled about that, but then he blocked her move to introduce something similar for fine arts—music, for example, and drawing, photography, writing… He said that the responsibility for instilling an appreciation for the fine arts lies solely with the family."

"That's ridiculous," protested Severus. "How can a child's mind develop fully…?"

Harry cut him off. "Hogwarts students study the History of Magic but get no world history, no European history, no ancient history…"

Severus' face was beginning to color. Harry held up a hand.

"Severus, I don't think this would have bothered you twenty years ago."

Severus closed his mouth. He'd opened it, ready to voice another protest. He waited a moment, composing himself.

"You are correct. Twenty years ago, it was all that I knew. But it's different now, I'm different now. I could not in good conscience sit on the Board of Governors and not introduce reform."

"You might be considered a rebel," said Harry. "The Board is mainly made up of old men from pureblood families."

Severus smiled then, a crooked, devious smile that screamed "Snape" and once again transported Harry to those days of sitting in detention, scrubbing cauldrons.

"But Mr. Potter, you forget with whom you're speaking…"

Harry grinned. "Minerva is going to die happy, isn't she?"

"We shall see," said Severus. He raised his hand and signaled the waitress, reaching for his wallet and pushing the crumpled bills Harry pulled from his pocket back at him.

"My treat today," he said. "Save your money for your holiday."

Harry smiled his thanks, mentally deciding to use the money on a ridiculous vacation souvenir for Severus. 'The Boy-who-Lived Went to Spain and All I Got was this Stupid T-shirt.'

"What?" asked Severus, noticing Harry's smile, as they walked out of the pub.

"Nothing," answered Harry, then, after a pause added. "It's just…what's your shirt size?"

Severus stared at Harry as he followed him around the corner and into an alley.

"I don't wear t-shirts," he said.

But Harry smiled, placed Severus' hand on his upper arm and said "Hang on." Moments later they were at the gates of Hogwarts and Severus Snape grabbed onto the bars as he grabbed his stomach, wishing he hadn't eaten quite such a large lunch.