“There’s a way you can live, Harry. There’s a way we can all live. Yes,” Dumbledore added when Harry looked up. “Even Professor Snape.”

“You are sure about this.” Harry couldn’t help sounding doubtful. It couldn’t be so easy, could it?

“Yes,” Dumbledore replied. There was an odd look in his eyes. “Yes. I’m fairly certain.”

“There’s a catch, isn’t it? There’s always a catch.” The ground was trembling slightly. It’s getting closer, the war.

Silence reigned uncomfortably.

Then finally, “He might lose his memories, Harry.”

And suddenly Harry was falling, with nothing to catch him when he finally hits the ground.

***

“Good morning, Harry.” Harry turned towards his father with a smile.

“Morning, dad.” And they settled into breakfast, a precious routine which—Harry hopes—will restore whatever peace it could, however tenuous.

His dad was almost functional again, now that the nightmares were fairly over. The time spent in St. Mungo’s had helped both their nightmares a lot, but there wasn’t a lot they could do for the lost memories.

But Snape had finally gotten used to Harry being his son, and there were times where they spent time together happily, just like a family does. Sometimes Harry felt grateful that Snape couldn’t remember any of those hostile memories back at school, but sometimes … He just wants Snape to remember what it meant for him—Harry—when Snape had finally called him family.

There were also times when his dad would get that foreign look in his eyes, forget who he was and disappear into his own world. Everything will fall then, one by one, toppling like dominoes, and Harry had to be there to pick up the pieces and put them back together.

It wasn’t all good, but it was better than none.