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CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR:

Severus had hoped that the long day, following by them making love, would end in a deep sleep for Harry. Instead, he had already been woken by a nightmare once, and it seemed that Harry wasn't done dreaming yet.

Harry's nightmares were hard on Severus, not only because it meant he had to see Harry in such anguish, but also due to the uncertainty each nightmare brought with it: For when Harry dreamt of his past, wariness and violence could be expected upon waking, while when dreaming of more abstract things Harry typically needed comfort and close proximity to his lover. But right up until the moment Harry woke Severus couldn't know whether or not his presence would be welcome, and it was taking its toll on him.

As Harry began to stir restlessly again Severus considered how to help his lover. Was it best to simply let him work through the nightmares and hope they decreased over time? Perhaps putting physical distance between himself and the location of his nightly terrors would help? Travelling to another country could certainly deal with both of those points, but what if the trauma ran too deep?

Severus's first thought was of course of a potion, but he had not the first idea how one would go about creating a potion to heal the mind instead of repressing memories. Occlumency, too, could only do so much, and Harry certainly wasn't a natural Occlumens. A psychologist, then? Severus knew that Muggle soldiers often needed professional aid after the trauma of a war. However, he knew that Harry would insist on dealing with it on his own, arguing that he didn't have the time to see a psychologist – which, Severus ruefully thought, was currently true.

Then Harry thrashed against the covers and Severus gently separated himself from Harry, recognizing that it was a dream of his past. He would give it until the end of the summer holiday – by then Harry should have gotten a restful vacation far away from Britain, and if that didn't help the nightmares then Severus would suggest Harry find some professional help. Silently illuminating the room with a spell, he kept his wand ready in case he would have to defend himself magically.

Harry bolted upright with a gasp, wand in hand and eyes searching. The room was quiet but for the breathing of another person… He turned and stiffened when it wasn't Daphne beside him, but Snape watching him warily.

"Snape?" he asked guardedly, frowning slightly when the man's face twitched at the name. Harry's eyes widened. "Severus," he breathed, all the tenseness going out of him. Turning away, he covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry," Harry apologized, as he did each time he awoke from such a nightmare.

"What did you dream about?" Severus asked, his voice still rough with sleep. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around his smaller lover and pillowed his cheek against Harry's back. "Tell me about it."

A shiver went through Harry's slight frame. "I once looked into the mind of a dying Death Eater," he began shakily, "and later transferred the memories I had taken into a pensieve. The strange thing is that memories taken from other people can only be viewed from inside their own bodies, regardless of who puts the memory in the pensieve – so when we viewed the memories of this Death Eater in the pensieve, the final memory ended with us reliving his death…" Harry shivered again.

Severus pulled away and tugged gently at Harry until he was turned facing him. "Show me," he ordered softly.

"No," Harry said immediately, his expression distressed. "I don't want to burden you with that..."

"Share the burden, Harry," Severus said gently, brushing the hair out of the younger man's face. "Let me support you." They locked gazes, the green one conflicted while the dark one was full of calm certainty.

"Alright, but only this once," Harry conceded reluctantly, but Severus promptly shook his head.

"No, Harry," he disagreed carefully. "I want you to be able to share all your dreams with me; the good and the bad. Let me support you," he repeated. Seeing that Harry was still conflicted he reached out and cupped his lover's cheek. "Would you not do the same for me if I were struggling?"

Harry exhaled slowly. "I would," he agreed wryly. "But it's so much to ask of you – too much. There are so many bad memories…"

"But there are good ones as well," Severus countered gently. "Why don't you show me the memory that haunts you, followed by a good memory? I care not which; it could be a Christmas present you received, a chess game you played with Weasley, something from the future, the present, or the past. You have bright memories as well, Harry; don't let the dark ones dominate your nights."

As Severus spoke a smile dawned on Harry's face, and by the time he had finished speaking the younger man had an expression of pure love on his face, causing Severus's heart to skip more than one beat.

"Thank you," Harry said softly, pressing his face into Severus's hand much as a cat would. "You're right; my days are so busy that there's no time to relive bad memories, but I let them control my dreams. Here, let me show you…" he reached out with his mind and magic, unwittingly beginning a new ritual of sharing one good and bad memory each night.

OoOoO

The new Lord Potter managed to get his two closest friends alone before breakfast on Sunday morning, the three of them hiding out in an abandoned classroom with the Marauders Map close at hand so that no one could interrupt.

"I already discussed this a bit with Ron last night," Harry said to Hermione, "but boys can't get up the girls' staircase, otherwise you'd've been there as well."

"You were out pretty late last night," Hermione nodded understandingly, a worried note in her voice. "Is everything alright?"

"No," Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair and messing it up even more than it already was. "Dumbledore's trial was yesterday, and it'll be all over the Prophet today – Hames just wasn't sure how much Skeeter would say about it. He said it's possible that she'll include the full transcript of the trial, which means that a lot of information will get out, and," he took a big breath, "it turns out that my mum was under a love potion."

There was a breathless pause where Hermione stared at him, for once utterly lost for words. "What?!" she finally squeaked. "Dumbledore dosed her with a love potion? Keyed to your dad? Oh, Harry," her lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes. "Did Hames know?"

"No," Harry said, biting his own lip to keep it from trembling.

"Oh," Hermione sobbed, throwing her arms around her friend and hugging him within an inch of his life. For once he didn't seem awkward at the hug, only squeezing her back just as tightly. "Are you okay with that?" she asked. "I mean, of course you wouldn't be okay with it – how could you – but I mean, there's the possibility that she would have grown to love him even without the potion, and your parents definitely loved you, there's no doubt about it-"

"Hermione," Harry cut her off with a breathless laugh, "I don't think I've heard you talk that quickly since we first met Hames."

"Ah, well…" Hermione pulled back, blushing now. "I just- We're here for you if you need anything, Harry, really," she said, gesturing in Ron's direction but keeping her gaze locked on Harry.

"I know," he smiled that endearing crooked smile that she only associated with Harry. Nobody else smiled quite the way he did. "And that's all I need, really. I just wanted to make sure that you knew before the Prophet tells everyone…"

"Thanks, Harry," she smiled back, wiping the moisture from her eyes. "Any other unpleasant surprises?"

"Well, I think Hames mentioned something about Zabini and Dean being half-brothers…"

OoOoO

The Great Hall that morning was a study in reactions. As Harry had expected, there were several articles covering Dumbledore's trial as well as the full transcript – and there was enough there to upset anyone. To his relief, his request had been honored and not a word of possible abuse was mentioned, so at least his younger self would be spared that ordeal. In fact, most personal information linked to him had been edited out – including that his mother, and Severus, had been dosed with love potions. He'd have considered doing something nice for Rita if not for the fact that he had literally made her career by getting her into the trial and setting up the book deal for her.

When Minerva stood to address the students it took a while for her to be noticed, but harder than that was finding the words.

"For the second time I find myself standing before you with a heavy heart," she began slowly, looking out over the full hall – for every single student had turned up when news of the articles had spread. "The first time it was to inform you of the trial of Dolores Umbridge, as well as apologize for her actions at this school. Today I find myself doing the same, but for our former headmaster, Albus Dumbledore." She paused, closing her eyes briefly. "I am not even sure what to say to you," she confessed. "As you will have taken from today's Daily Prophet, I was even more blinded to his true character than most others, and I have no words of apology to give you. No," she corrected herself, "I have no apologies for Dumbledore, but I have an apology of my own to make. Perhaps I was under the influence of character-changing spells, but even so I regret the part I unwittingly played in separating Slytherin House from the other students. I regret favoring the Gryffindors over the other students despite my efforts to be fair, and I regret not being the supportive professor I had hoped to be. For that, you all have my sincere apology," she bowed, the motion exactly the same as she had given when apologizing for not stopping Umbridge.

Behind her she heard a chair scrape against the stone floor as someone stood, and she straightened, knowing instinctively who had risen and finding it completely appropriate.

"I, too, have an apology to make," Severus Snape spoke from his seat at the end of the High Table. "It is only briefly mentioned in the transcript, but I, too, was under a great many spells and potions that altered my personality. I will not deny that the basis was there – I truly do take pride in Slytherin House, and I was never a patient teacher – but I would like to think that I would have treated my students more fairly, and with a great deal more patience, than I did. I was not hired to be a teacher; I was hired so that Dumbledore could have his spy close at hand. I was never meant to impart onto you my knowledge, and I apologize sincerely for putting so many students, over so many years, at such a disadvantage. For that, you have my apologies."

Severus bowed exactly as Minerva had, at the waist until his torso was parallel to the floor. He held the position for several heartbeats, then straightened and took his seat smoothly, meeting the eyes of his students levelly. When his gaze met the stunned one of Neville Longbottom he felt regret take over his features: There was a student he had treated appallingly, and he knew that the Gryffindor deserved a complete apology. For he knew that without Dumbledore's meddling, he never would have treated Longbottom the way he had – with a mix of resentment for not being the child of prophecy, since Alice Longbottom and not Lily had survived (conveniently overlooking that the boy's mother had been tortured into insanity), annoyance at the boy's utter incapability of brewing anything, and a healthy dose of irrational, all-consuming hate. Why Dumbledore had put compulsion charms on him to hate Longbottom was beyond him, but now he had to live with the results.

Then Minerva resumed her address, moving on from the topic of apologies. "Only once the spells were lifted from me and the potions flushed from my system," she had spent a sleepless night suffering the aftereffects of a flushing potion, "did I realize how terribly Hogwarts had suffered under Dumbledore's rule. We have a History professor who does not truly teach history, a Muggle Studies course that is woefully out of date, a Divination teacher who cannot teach the subject, for one is either born with the Sight or not, and many other problems beside. I have already begun addressing these problems, and will do my utmost to bring Hogwarts back to the excellent level of education it used to offer. There will be more courses, including a course on wizarding cultures and customs; the current subjects will be revised, with separate teachers teaching differing skill levels, and there will be more amenities such as clubs and parent visits. I will arrange for a front-page article detailing the planned changes as soon as I have narrowed them down, as the entire wizarding world, including your parents, are to be kept abreast of the changes. I am not like Dumbledore and certainly do not plan on hoarding information, nor am I planning the changes alone. If you have any course or club you would like to see established, please approach your Head of House with your suggestions; I welcome your input."

She clasped her hands together before finishing, "As I requested the last time I stood before you this way, I hope that we can all work together to the best of our abilities. Let us prove to the world that despite the hardships cast our way, we are capable of overcoming them and bettering ourselves." Minerva paused briefly to let her message sink in. "Thank you for your attention. Please read today's newspaper attentively in its entirety and write home to your parents; they all deserve to know what the situation within the castle is, and I will organize a visiting day post haste." With that she returned to her seat, acknowledging the applause she received with a relieved nod.

Severus, meanwhile, wondered how well a parent evening would go over when several of his charges would have to face the reality of their parents being in Azkaban.