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Forgetten Life	By : sybersnake Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 7982 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling is the creator and true owner of the characters of Hogwarts and the Wizarding World, and no infringement of copyright is intended. We’re just playing with them for our own amusement and that of our readers; no money is being

Chapter List
- 1-Forgetten Life
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Title: Forgotten Life

Author: SyberSnake

Beta: LostLenore

Chapter 2

     Harry Potter rushed down
St. Mongo’s corridor as fast as he could in his
injured state. It was not one of his best decision to
leave behind his comfortable bed, but he knew he needed to be as far as he
could from this place, these people.

     He could not believe that
Dumbledore would lie to him, again, but the absurdity of his statement was too
much, him and Snape together. He felt like throwing up. How could a man say
something like that, so soon after Sirius’s death. It
was all Snape’s fault, his and the interfering old fool. The man never would
tell him anything important, always lies and half truths. But to lie about
something like that. What did Dumbledore think, that
he, Harry could not even fathom what or how the old fool thought he would
believe this outrage lie.

     He, Harry Potter married
to that bastard, slimy, greasy git, lying Slytherin snake, Death Eater. He shuddered at the thought of
touching that man. For crying out loud, that was Snape. Nobody would touch him
that way. He felt sick and not just from his injury. He could almost see the man naked as his,
Harry’s hand ran down his side. Oh my god what was his problem, he needed
to get out of this place. He saw one of the emergency exits not far from him so
he stepped up to it and opened the door.

     As he stepped outside of
St. Mongo’s, the early night sky and chilly wind
welcomed him. He felt himself waking up as he stood in one of London’s dark alley. He needed to get away
from here, he needed
to think, and without really thinking he appareted
away. It never really occurred to him that nobody had taught him how to do it.

     He found himself in the
side alley not far from his old home,
Privet Drive.
He felt drained, his legs trembled, his breathing was
labored. He almost collapsed, he needed to prop himself up by the wall to be
able to stand. He could hear Snape’s voice dripping with sarcasm and malice: Famous Harry Potter could not even apparate, how … embarrassing. Foolish
Gryffindor. Ungrateful brat. The man’s deep voice was like a litany in
Harry’s mind, he could feel his own embarrassment, anger, rage and lust. WHAT! No, not lust. What the hell is wrong with him.
He desperately shook his head to escape the voice which listed his every
failure.

     He looked up and around.
He was not sure why he came here, but in a way this place was his home and
prison for the longest time. He looked toward the Dursley’s
house and noticed something was not right, he could not put his finger on it,
but something changed. His mouth felt dry, he hoped nothing had happened any of
them, he may not like them, but he did not want them at Voldemort
or the Death Eaters mercy. He started to walk toward the house to try and
figure out what had changed.

class=Section2>

     He narrowed his eyes as
he noticed the board in the front of the yard, he could not read what was on
it, yet. As he moved closer, with every shaky step, he saw more and more
change: his Aunt’s garden was dried out, the lawn was too long, it hadn’t been trimmed for a while. Despite the darkening
night sky, no light crept out from the house. It had an air of neglect and
desolation.

     Panic crept up on Harry,
what could have happened, had the Death Eaters found them, that’s how
Dumbledore laid it to him, his mind created the worst of scenarios: where his
family was laying on the floor in their own blood, screaming and whimpering
under Cruciatus. He tried to go faster but his legs
almost buckled under him, but he could not stop, he needed to know what had
happened.

     Then he saw the board’s
dingy writing: FOR SALE. His eyes saw the words, his lips read them out loud,
but his mind could not understand for a moment what they meant. He held out his
hand toward the board with his fingers almost touching it, before he pulled
them back. He looked up at the Dursley’s house and
for the first time this night knew it had been empty for a long time.

     Hundreds of questions, if
not thousands, swam around in his mind: the hows, the
whys, and the whens and he did not have an answer for
any of them. He needed answers, and he needed them now. But who could help him
with it. Who…. The Weasleys.
Yes, the Weasleys could help him to find the answers.
With a last glance at the house he apparated
to the Borrow.

     As soon as he landed he
fell to his knees, not just from fatigue but from the pain he felt in his heart at what
he saw. The only place beside Hogwarts he really called home,
had been destroyed. The remains of the once cheerful home was
darkened by the fire that consumed it and left it desolated like a tomb.

     “Potter move. NOW!” screamed Snape’s voice in his
ear as he tried to pull him away from the burning house, Harry looked up with
tear-filled eyes to see the Dark Mark a clear symbol on the night sky.

     He pulled his thin robe
tighter around him,
like it would, could keep
away these nightmarish … memories. He pulled himself to his feet and moved
closer the ruin. The doorway was almost intact, only burned out, as he leant to
it a new… memory assaulted him.

     “I should have been here.” Harry cried and
raged.

    “You could not have helped them if you had
been here. You would have died.” Snape’s voice tried to put a
firm stop Harry’s ravings. Harry could feel as Snape’s thin long fingers
grasp his shoulder, as Snape turn him toward him and
pull him to his chest. Harry tried to get away from the man, tried to twist out
of his hated teacher’s embrace, but he could not and after a short while he did
not even want too. He needed the support, he needed
this to be able to fight back. As Harry turned toward the darkened ruin which
radiated heat from the not so far away burning fire. He swore to God, to Merlin
he would kill Voldemort.

     Snape’s words swam in his
mind and replayed again and again “You
could not have helped them if you had been here. You would have died.” As the words ran through his head, Harry’s
mind added it, the unsaid part. Oh, God someone had died, someone from his
surrogate family was no more. Harry was not sure he could bear the thought that
one of them had died. But he needed to know, he needed to know because he could
not leave with that terrible uncertainly.

     He could see what once was Molly’s kitchen, some of the pots were laying on the
floor. On the other side of the house he found the fireplace and a burned out
couch. He felt his legs trembling, he slipped down
onto the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest. What should he do now?
Where should he go? Back to Dumbledore and Snape? Was
the old man telling the truth or lying? He did not want to go back before he
knew the truth, or before he remembered. He felt like something missing, some
clue for the puzzle to be complete, so he could see what it showed. But who can
help him? Ron, Hermione, Remus. But where were they,
how to find them.

     “I want to kill him, and I need to find
that bastard Snape!” Harry raged as he stormed into the Potion Master’s room.
Snape was wearing black trousers and a white shirt, which was opened. Harry
could clearly see the man’s white skin and the faint movement of muscle as he
turned toward him. Harry felt himself flush, as he saw the man’s annoyed gaze.

     “Please come in Potter. Make yourself at
home!” Snarled Snape as he tried to button up his shirt.

     “Sorry.” Said Harry as
he tried to avert his eyes from the white skin and delicate long boned fingers.

     “Conquisitio, is
one of the most powerful spells, it requires a huge amount of energy and power
to properly cast and you need to completely know the one you search, be it a
property or person. You need to be able to remember every detail of the object
of your search.” Snape’s silkly voice lectured Harry,
but Harry could not entirely concentrate, he felt himself harden…

      “Conquisitio
Ronald Weasley.” Whispered Harry as he tried to
visualized his best friend.
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Forgetten Life