Now that he was spending less time in Snape’s quarters, giving him a little bit of space from the man, he was able to recognize just how strangely the professor was acting towards him. How could he have just accepted so easily the patience that the man had for him? And what in the world had possessed him, such a private and rather ornery man, to take in Harry Potter to his personal quarters?

The more that Harry thought on it, the more that Snape’s actions seemed somehow… off. Surely someone else could see it? And as the gossip and whispering of the other students grew worse, he suddenly understood that this must have been Snape’s plan all along. Harry was now fully under his control. He was unquestioningly ingesting whatever potion Snape was giving him each morning, he was living with the man, sleeping in a room down the hall, and Snape had made everyone believe that he was crazy. Not only that, but Snape had quite a lot of influence in relaying to the others how well Harry was doing, due to their close proximity to each other, and in decisions regarding further treatments. Harry could hardly believe that he had not seen it before, and that he had doubted himself so fully.

The whispers were very quickly growing worse as well, and Harry began to wonder if Snape was somehow feeding the gossip vine. He was frequently overhearing comments about his freakish changes, and it was wearing on him, but he recognized that that must be Snape’s goal.

He bided his time, trying to act normally as he developed a plan, some way to break out from under Snape’s control and then to convince others that Snape was up to something. He began only pretending to take the poison Snape was administering to him each morning, holding the potion in his mouth until he could spit it out into the toilet. His mind began to slowly feel clearer, and he watched and waited for his chance.

A few days after he had stopped taking the poison, he was in Potions class and concentrating hard on a particularly difficult potion. He was stirring feverishly as Ginny continued to chop ingredients to his left, when there was a bang from the table to his right and he felt something splash his arm. He looked over to see a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor standing back from their exploded cauldron, somehow untouched. Then he felt a burning begin on his arm, and he looked down to see angry red sores begin popping up on his skin.

Snape glared at the offender from the front of the room and then snapped out, “Miss Weasley, please take Mr. Potter to the infirmary. I will join you there shortly.”

Harry felt a cold sense of dread settle over him. Had this been part of Snape’s plan? Perhaps he had meant to seriously injure him and his plan had failed? He did not have much time to ponder this as Ginny was pulling him up out of his stool and hustling him off to the hospital wing.

As soon as he had passed through the double doors to the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey began fussing over him and muttering about ‘inept students that shouldn’t be in NEWT Potions.’ He sat quietly on his bed and let her heal his arm, considering how best to move forward. He was growing increasingly afraid as he thought on his predicament. Snape had said he would come up soon, and he still had so much control over him…

Just then, the doors to the wing burst open and Snape came striding in and headed for Harry’s bed. Harry was unable to suppress a flinch and shrunk back against the headboard of his bed.

“Harry, there’s nothing to be afraid of dear, it’s just Professor Snape,” Pomfrey soothed him absently. Then she seemed to realize what she had said, and she examined Harry with a concerned look on her face.

Harry began to feel panicky. “Madam Pomfrey, you have to believe me!” He agitatedly tried to stand up and the matron pushed him back. “He’s trying to control me, to kill me, I know it!” He grew even more frustrated and afraid as Pomfrey’s face continued to look only sad and concerned. “Please!” he shouted and tried to stand again, but this time Snape stepped forward as well to restrain him, and soon he had returned to darkness.

xxXxx

When Harry woke, early morning light was filtering into the infirmary through the large windows in the outer wall. He blinked and saw a blurry face swim into view. The figure pressed his glasses onto his face, and he saw that it was Madam Pomfrey. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t, and as he looked around he recognized the signs of magical suppression and imagined he must be restrained again. He groaned quietly and lay back on his pillow. Not this again.

“It’s all right, Harry,” Pomfrey assured him kindly. “We only put the restraints on because I need Professor Snape here and we weren’t sure how you’d react just yet.” She glanced over at someone, and Harry turned his head to see McGonagall and Snape on the other side of his bed. “We have quite a lot we need to discuss with you. But first, how are you feeling? You’ve been out for a couple of days.”

Harry frowned. “A bit thirsty,” he admitted.

Pomfrey nodded and filled a nearby glass with water from her wand. She raised the head of his bed a bit and held the glass to his lips, and Harry drank greedily. Once he finished, he settled back and looked at the matron expectantly, trying to avoid meeting Snape’s eyes. He realized that, oddly, he felt embarrassed and uncomfortable about being restrained again. He had not felt an emotion so sharply in quite a while, and it was simultaneously unsettling and refreshing.

“Harry, when I scanned you after the accident in Potions, I found a couple of strange things. One was that I found only very small traces of your antipsychotic potion in your system. Had you stopped taking it?” the matron queried.

Harry flushed and looked away. He felt less sure of himself and more confused now. Snape plotting something nefarious seemed somewhat far-fetched as he thought about it again, but he had been so sure… Could he really be crazy? But he felt so normal… Well, as normal as the Destroyer of Voldemort could be.

“As I thought, Harry. It’s all right.” She gently placed a finger under his chin and lifted it until she met his eyes. “I found something else as well.” She released his chin and stepped back. “There were traces of a… poison in your system. Just enough to detect. Professor Snape has been working on analyzing it… It is quite likely that it is what has been causing your symptoms.”

Harry’s breath caught. Was she saying what he thought she was?

Snape broke in as Madam Pomfrey appeared to be at a loss for words. “Potter, that means that your previous diagnosis of schizophrenia is likely incorrect. This poison fits your symptoms much more closely. You had never shown more than the psychotic symptoms of schizophrenia anyway, which from what I know is quite unusual.”

So he wasn’t crazy then? Could he trust that what they were saying now was true -- what if this was just a hallucination? He still had not been completely convinced that he ever had been crazy, but it was so confusing wavering back and forth like this. “So what does this poison do?” he finally asked.

Again, Snape answered. “It causes extreme fear and paranoia, and makes it difficult for the mind to differentiate fears, dreams, and imagination from reality. At our best guess, it was being administered to you little by little since just after the winter holiday, allowing it to slowly build up in your system.”

Harry frowned, realizing that he had been under the influence of this poison for four whole months. “So why did the potion seem to help then?”

“For a couple of reason,” Snape responded, crossing his arms across his chest. “One is that the potion would have counteracted the symptoms (though with some rather unpleasant side effects, as you noticed) even though it could not neutralize or eradicate the poison itself. The other is that we believe you to have somehow been poisoned in the Great Hall, and you ceased eating there during that time period.”

“So then, I’ll be fine now?” Harry asked hopefully.

Snape and Pomfrey shared a look, and McGonagall looked at him sadly, an expression he was growing used to. Eventually Pomfrey answered him. “Not quite, Harry. Now that we have managed to neutralize the poison, the fear and paranoia should subside, even more than they had while you were just taking the potion. But, the poison has permanently affected your ability to tell what is real and what is not. This should be much easier to manage now that the paranoia seems to have subsided, though.”

Harry only nodded, having somehow suspectedsomething like that. Oddly, he did not feel too bad about it. He had managed so far. He was certain it would be difficult, and that he likely would become frustrated in the future, but for now he only felt determined.

xxXxx

He was freed from the restraints only a little while later, once they were positive that he was remaining calm and rational. Harry was heartened by what appeared to be a very rapid recovery; apparently now that they knew about the poison and had specifically neutralized it, rather than it just slowly working its way out of his system, he was able to return to reality much easier. He also thought it might help that his mind was not fogged up on calming draught this time around.

He returned to living in Snape’s quarters once he was released from the hospital wing, although he was immediately allowed to return to his usual full schedule. And Snape, since he was a master of the mind arts, began working with him to help him learn how to distinguish reality from fantasy.

And slowly, he learned. It was difficult, especially since the more permanent effects of the potion had grown worse after his second round of dosing. Pomfrey and Snape speculated that the poisoner had grown impatient with the progress and increased the dose the second time, which was why it had been found the second time but not the first. But that meant that even without the added paranoia, he still experienced many apparent hallucinations. Sometimes it seemed that every passing fear or daydream became a reality for him, and it became frustrating at times to try to sort through it all. But Snape taught him strategies, such as reading his environment and particularly the people around him for clues. He also learned to trust and rely on his friends and Snape when he was around them, asking them for clarification or confirmation when he could not determine the truth with absolute certainty himself.

As he considered it, he realized that it was not completely random that many of his hallucinations and delusions were centered around Snape. The man had protected him, and been, in a sense, a constant in his life for a long time. And yet the man had taunted him and hurt him the entire time he had known him, until this past year. Since viewing Snape’s memories in the pensieve, he had had a difficult time sorting out his feelings towards his professor. He felt a sort of vague, distant kinship with Snape, given their similar childhoods. And Snape was a connection to his mother, something that he could not really find anywhere else. Yet some part of him feared these new feelings towards Snape, finding it difficult to trust an adult who had hurt him in such a way, even if he had also protected him. But once he had recognized and named his conflicting emotions, he found it easier to begin to develop a relationship with Snape, even beyond their relationship as mentor and mentee.

Eventually, the poisoner was caught. He was found to be a seventh year Hufflepuff who was particularly talented at Potions, and whose father had been sent to Azkaban after the Battle of Hogwarts. They made a valiant attempt at keeping the legal proceedings quiet, but word did get out, as it always did somehow. Harry had a particularly hard time during that period, never sure whether the whispering he was hearing was real or in his head since either was very possible. But after a time the furor and press attention died down, although Harry still struggled with shame over the entire Wizarding World knowing of his condition. And at times his hallucinations were exacerbated by his fears of someone exploiting it.

But, with some hard work, Harry managed to graduate from Hogwarts with his best friends, Ron and Hermione, and his girlfriend, Ginny. He had done remarkably well on his NEWTs, especially considering the year he had had. With Auror training now out of the question, he was recruited by the Falmouth Falcons and ended up playing for them for a few years before retiring as their star seeker.

And when he married Ginny in a small, private ceremony, he asked Snape to attend as one of his very few personal guests. And when he met his eyes after saying the vows and being announced as bonded for life, he could clearly see the joy and pride in the usually dour man’s eyes.

The morning after his wedding, he woke up next to Ginny and could see soft sunlight pouring through the windows and bathing his wife’s peacefully sleeping face. He lay and watched her until she woke, then smiled when she stretched languidly.

After a moment of just staring at each other, Harry finally asked, “This one really happened, right?”

And with tears at the corners of her eyes and a smile on her lips, Ginny answered, “Yes.”