I Just Remembered - I'm Harry

November 4th

Today Professor Snape brought a big mirror to class and said that in the nearest half hour, everyone will have the honour of seeing a complete idiot in it with his own eyes. Then started calling our names. I waited my turn with great interest because I saw Hermione go pale when she looked into Snape's magic mirror. She goes pale like that only when the burden of indisputable truths flops down on her scrawny shoulders.
Ow, Ron, fine, not scrawny.
Hermy, tell me what you saw in there! Come on, tell, tell, tell... Ow, fine, don't.
My turn came. Am I mistaken or did Malfoy really say 'Scarheaded Freak?' I'll come by later and politely, like Hermy taught me, inquire about it. Malfoy will probably spend another night in the Hospital Wing. They say he has poor health.
Looked in the mirror, didn't see anyone. Asked where the idiot was. The professor hisses. I don't understand him, probably lost my ability to converse with snakes. Explain it to him politely. He's silent. Said to look closer. I look as closely as I can and I think the mirror breaks. I thought at first the professor was going to hiss again, but no, he started screaming; I don't understand what he's trying to prove by it. Five minutes later I learn from Hermione that I'm spending the night in the Trophy Room, and I wonder why. Twenty minutes later I find out why: turns out it's punishment - to stay in the Trophy Room for the night; so what, I like it, except some strange-looking old guy keeps asking me every morning, "Did you clean everything?!" To keep from upsetting him, made it a habit to shake down my robe at six am before he comes in, because he likes it when I answer his question with a "yes."
Before leaving the class I thank professor Snape long and sincerely for being allowed to spend the night outside the Gryffindor dormitory, because Neville snores horribly. The professor scowls and turns away, I want to pull his hands from his face, but Ron says, don't. I concede because I really don't like Professor Snape's hands, they're covered in scars and gray spots of some sort.
In History of Magic I devised to throw paper balls at Finch-Fletchley, but he didn't turn around until, instead of a ball, I accidentally hurled a textbook. It was fun hearing his merry cries after an unexpected blow to the head, and since I'm a fun guy (Hermy constantly says so), I threw another textbook at him. I've got two more, but won't throw the Potions book, I don't know why.
Finch-Fletchley left. When I asked where, Ron said to the Hospital Wing. I'm beginning to think they have regular secret meetings there, otherwise why would everyone keep going so often?
Later, at dinner, I get an idea to write Professor Snape a letter asking him to wash his hands; I almost got up and asked Professor McGonagall for a bit of parchment, but Hermione grabbed my sleeve and said I shouldn't. Fine, I'll get the parchment later.
At night, Madam Pomfrey informed me that, besides the yellow, blue and red pills, I get to take the green ones. I wonder if I actually jump off the Astronomy Tower, will they let me try the orange ones, too?

November 6th

Didn't want to wake in the morning and that's why Dean, the idiot, sluiced me with water from the basin I washed my brushes in yesterday, after drawing Mrs. Norris' portrait. Now my pajamas are all crimson. I chased Dean around the room until he gave me Ron's pajamas. Oh, by the way, where is Ron?
What should I remember?
Why did he go to the Hospital Wing without me? Dean, wait, where are you going?
Ugh, I'm so sick of them all. Going to breakfast.
They wouldn't let me into the Great Hall, said to go and get dressed. I decided to skip breakfast since my first class was Potions, and they make me sick anyway.
Professor Snape will be so surprised when I bring him the portrait of Mrs. Norris that I painted. But I won't give it to him, his hands are too scarred.
While I walked to Alchemy, I discovered two broken fingers on my hand. I decided not to give a shit at first, but Hermione promised to write my Divination essay for me if I went to Madam Pomfrey right now. I pretended to agree but when she turned a corner I went to the kitchen to drink pumpkin juice. That's where Professor Dumbledore found me. He brought me my robe and healed my fingers. When I asked him if he'd heard anything about Voldemort and whether I'd have to fight him soon, the professor choked and hastily left the kitchen, saying something about urgent business that awaited him in hog's mead.
I don't understand; what's hog's mead?
Hedwig looks strange. I definitely remember her being white - why is she black now? Hermione says it isn't Hedwig. I laugh. Seamus started to shift away from me; I pretended not to notice. I should go to Professor Snape and borrow a bottle of poison; he's a kind man, he'll lend it to me for a while.
Hedwig brought me a letter. From Ron! He says I shouldn't worry, that he's fine, he just has to go for an observation to St. Mungo's hospital, and what happened isn't my fault.
What happened?
I turned around and saw that Hermione's face is all wet. Asked who upset her; I won't let anyone upset her and will protect her with my last dying breath. She ran away.
I should ask Professor Snape for two bottles of poison.
Wow, today in Transfiguration, we studied the Polyjuice spell. I could transfigure my quill into an ink ball pen on the first try! But Professor McGonagall told me not to occupy myself with rubbish and stop producing ink ball pens. I just shrugged. If she doesn't like it, why should I agree with her opinion? I walked out of the class.

Hermione asked me why I walked out of Transfiguration. I laugh. I didn't walk out, she just didn't notice me! You are very inattentive lately, Hermy, do you miss Ron or something?
Ow, I get it; I get it, not Ron.
At night I went to look at the stars. People are mistaken when they think that stars are white dots on the black sky canvas. No, stars are those huge black spots amongst the barely visible in some places white background. I wrote my thoughts down in my Potions essay so Professor Snape would know it, too.

November 9th

It turns out Hermione's favourite place is the library. I didn't know. I asked her to show me where that is. Hermy said that as soon as the Defense Against the Dark Arts class is over, we'll go there together.
It hurts. I just talked to Malfoy. They carried him away, and I went to lunch. Hermione said Ron is coming.
Who is Ron?
Her face is wet again; I wonder if she likes it that way? Privately I decided not to ask her any more questions. I'd rather go to Professor Snape, he's much more interesting.

He was sitting at the teacher's table and not smiling. I climbed into his lap; I know it should have amused him. He's shaking and sighing quietly, maybe he's in pain?

Where does it hurt?
He has huge black eyes; I think I might drown in them, and I think I might like it.
Madam Pomfrey came and led me away to the Hospital Wing, maybe so I could sit with Draco. For some reason, he shies away from me and shrinks under his too thin coverlet. I'll bring him my own blanket from the dormitory - he looks cold.

I go downstairs and walk outside. The rain is warm, and a colorful rainbow stretches above Hogwarts. I just remembered, my name is Harry.

November 21st

I came to in a strange white room. Can't move, my hands are tied behind my back. Where is Severus?

November 23rd

He's telling me that everything will be fine soon, it's just my psyche is undergoing a difficult period of recovery and stabilization. I nod - because you have to agree with sick people or god forbid they'll have a breakdown. This one is definitely sick, because he's dressed all in white and talks rubbish about my psyche. My psyche is fine, fine, I say, I SAY IT'S FINE...

December 1st

Ron woke me up at 9 am, we were planning to go into Hogsmeade.
Isn't it dangerous?
I don't want to fall into Death Eater clutches. But Gryffindor blood flows through my veins, and I get dressed and bravely follow Ron. Outside, everything is white with snow, and the air is so cold that it's hard to breathe.
We'll spend Christmas at the Burrow, right?
Ron, where are you going?
I chase him and toss him into the snow; he's laughing and furtively, when he thinks I cannot see, wiping at his eyes. I try not to read into it, I want to be careless today.
We burst into the sultry, smoky pub to drink some butterbeer and give our tired feet a rest, because we spent half the day browsing the shops choosing presents for Ron's family, teachers and some girl with a terribly funny name Hermione.
Ron doesn't answer but I suspect that he is probably in love with her. I'm in love, too.
With whom?
Ron, who am I in love with?
He shudders and upsets the still sealed butterbeer bottle to the floor, and I sigh a little but crawl down to get it. Laughing at my friend's clumsiness, I wipe the bottle on the hem of my robe and clean off the dust and rubbish and return it to the owner. He watches me warily. Don't be scared, Ronny, I won't take it away!
My feet are wet, and I go down to the dungeons to change. Severus opens the door, I say 'hi' and walk past him into the bedroom where, I know for sure, an extra pair of clean dry socks are in a dresser. Didn't find mine, so I put on a pair of Sev's, then dragged to the fireplace to put my soaked shoes there, because Severus always yells when I throw my shoes all over the place.
He says to me, Mister Potter, what are you doing?
Is he upset?
What's with Potter again?
I'm Harry, remember?
He slowly slides down to the floor and covers his face. Sev, Sev, are you okay? My own, look at me, look at me! I kiss his hands, every scar, every finger, and he groans. What is it? Tell me what happened! I'm here, love, I'll always be here. I whisper it again and again, hugging his waist, burying my face in his hair; I listen to the beat of his heart and at some horrible point I think it grows quiet and stops altogether.
No!
I cling to him desperately, but he doesn't react. Severus, it's me.
It's me...
Who am I? I ask Madam Pomfrey, who leads me to the Hospital Wing by the hand. She doesn't answer, and I don't insist because it doesn't matter who I am, because it's much more interesting to watch the twisted shadows from the torches on the walls toss about, because suddenly I remember the lyrics of a very sad song, because I'm very, very sad, and there's a salty taste in my mouth, probably from swallowing tears - I've been swallowing them for ten minutes, I choke on them and I don't understand why.
I take my colorful pills one by one and draw in my feet, trying to get warm. Damn, where are my shoes? I laugh.

November 3rd

Hmm, what's this awful picture doing under my bed? God-knows-what all in crimson, and a signature - Mrs. Norris. Did she draw it?

November 7th

Neville exploded his cauldron again, no matter how much Hermy tried to help him. Professor Snape is mad and disgusting as always; took a bunch of points from him and gave him detention. The scum.
And why is he looking at me so suspiciously? Drilling me with his black-eyed glare like it's perfectly normal. Nothing to pick on, eh? I brewed my potion correctly today; so what if Hermione helped me, you didn't notice it anyway. Bastard! Death Eater! Murderer!
I hate him so much.
My chest explodes with all-consuming anger. I am completely certain that he will betray Dumbledore as soon as Voldemort calls on him, he'll betray Hogwarts, betray us all. Voldemort marked him like a dog marks his territory.
Hate him.
I want to hurt him as much as he hurt me when Sirius died. Think, Harry, think, you've got a Marauder's blood in you, you'll come up with something to open Dumbledore's eyes to his black and rotten personality.
I glance in his direction; hmm, he's still looking at me. I smile, and in surprise his eyes widen and he quickly turns away.
I know what I'll do.
Sirius, I know you can hear me now. You'll understand me, you're always with me.
I'm in Dumbledore's office.
Snape, pale and ugly as always, clenches his hands into fists. I, tear-streaked and flushed, sit in the chair across from the Director's chair.
For a moment I think that everything that's happening now is a dream, a pre-dawn nightmare; that it wasn't me who, an hour ago, threw myself at the walls to put a bunch of purple spots and bloody scrapes on my own body, that it wasn't me who tore a tuft of hair off my head, that it isn't me who's going to introduce Snape to a Dementor. I'd feel sorry for the Dementor.
Yes, I say, he grabbed me and tried... I pause as if I can't continue in this agitated state... tried to... I force another tear to roll down my bruised cheek... tried to rape me...
Snape closes his eyes.
McGonagall gasps.
I bury my face in my knees and sob hysterically. I'm glad, I'm bloody glad.
Am I sure? Am I sure?! I whimper and sob; I say if they want to, let them call Pomfrey and examine me - it hurts, it hurts everywhere...
Quiet, Dumbledore says, you need to take a sedative and go to bed. I nod, smudging tears across my cheeks, I dash aside when Snape makes the tiniest move, I gloat, envisioning how madly I shall laugh when Snape is dragged off to Azkaban.
Let him die there, the scum.
Snape tries to tell me something; he reaches out to me with a trembling hand, but Dumbledore shakes his head, and the bastard freezes and closes his eyes again. McGonagall wraps me in a blanket and leads out of the office, I can't stop shaking. The last sound I hear is a short muffled sob.
Whose?
At night I take a pillow, walk over to Ron's bed and press the pillow into his face. He flutters and writhes, but I'm stronger. He ate my piece of lemon pie without permission.
I dreamt Ron died.

December 10th

I dreamt Hermione died.

December 18th

Professor Snape gave me detention.
I hate him so much!
Ron said I shouldn't react that way and I agreed. I missed Ron, he only came back a few days ago, some observation at St. Mungo's again. Carefully trying to sort out what's wrong with him - something chronic? Can I help?
He shakes his head and I return to my thoughts. I'm glad this is the seventh year and I get to say goodbye to Potions and my least favorite teacher soon. But for now I have to wait, because I want to become an Auror and be ready to face Voldemort.
At night, Hermione and I were packing Christmas presents. I love Christmas so much! I'm calm and contented, and want to hug Hermione and swirl around the room with her; I don't care if everyone looks. I'm happy.
I'm anticipating the holidays at Hogwarts, the bright décor of the Great Hall, the banisters decked with golden holly, the ringing of bells on pine branches, the spirit of joy and sweet pudding at the Holiday Feast.
I charmed Ron's card to sing Christmas carols.

December 19th

Suddenly at dinner, when I was watching the teacher's table, I remembered that I haven't packed Sev's present yet. I want to give it to him right now, but I don't because I want Sev to have a wonderful holiday with presents.
I bought him a potions book. I know it isn't a rarity or the most expensive present out there, but with Severus, every potions book becomes adored and guarded with care.

I couldn't' find the book!
Who took it?
Ron, where is Severus' book?!! Can't I leave my things in this room without someone swiping them?!
Ron says Hermione took it to find a wrapping that matches.
Oh yeah? Sounds like her.
Fine, I'll pick it up in the morning.

December 20th

Hermione asked me if I liked the color green. Of course I do. Then she asks whether I mind if she wraps Severus' book in green wrapping foil.
What book?
I didn't buy any book. I didn't get Sev a present yet.
Thanks, Hermione!! Severus will be so happy, and thanks for thinking of me, or I would have looked for a present for that impossible man until the last minute. He's so complicated. Look, I'm smiling at him, and he's pretending not to notice. Although he's right of course, Dumbledore might get angry if he finds out we're together.
But, Hermione, you're a miracle!!

December 30th

I hurt badly. I wrench inside out and vomit bile that burns my tongue, and my stomach is about ready to follow it. I'm cold and hot and I don't understand where I am, I can't see anything.
Washed-out silhouettes, hushed voices, can't hear any words.
Can't move, I'm tied up.
Water...
Please, water.
Why does it hurt so much? The seizures twisting my body make me howl, I bang my head on whatever I'm lying on but it doesn't help, my head is splitting, I choke on my own sobs and tears. I growl and writhe, scream and want, I desire, I beg for death. Please...
I beg you.

January 12th

He's asking me if I'll talk to him. No, I won't.
When I come to? I don't know. Where am I now? I'm here, here, I just don't want to.
Don't want anything.
This is my doctor. A smiling Mister Anderson, he pushes me in a wheelchair to every group therapy meeting, and I listen to the different stories of the people that surround me. I'm ill. So they say. I suffered for the world.
I don't remember any of it. I don't remember who I am.
Once came a tall, gloomy and sullen man. He had beautiful hair, long and black, with silver strands woven into them. He said, look, baby, what you're doing to me. I didn't answer, and he took my hand and talked for a long time.
Others came, too, but I don't remember anyone else.
Saliva dribbles down my chin and drips onto the collar of my hospital gown, I can't move.

February 17th

Professor McGonagall says I'm making progress. I noticed it myself. Before I could never transfigure a mouse into a golden goblet, but now I can do much more than that. It's the approaching spring, I love springtime.
Today we had potato pie for dinner, mmm, love it! And for the first time in a long time Dean sat next to me. For some reason everyone keeps clear of me, except Ron and Hermione of course. Someone probably spread some ridiculous rumors about me again. But today Dean sat near me, broke the ice, and I joked and laughed all dinner long.
Leaving the hall I tripped Malfoy and he banged down to the floor, and Ron poured pumpkin juice over him. Hilarious!
And then Ron and I did our Divination homework until one in the morning, and Hermione wrote her Arithmancy essay. It was cozy, the logs crackled in the fireplace and suddenly I caught myself not remembering Christmas. I probably had too much to drink at the celebration.
At one-thirty our warm little world was broken into. Pomfrey and McGonagall burst into the common room, panting and disheveled.
Professor McGonagall, seeing me in pajamas and with a chocolate frog in my mouth, started, closed her eyes with her hand, moaned something and ran away. Maybe she's allergic to chocolate?
Madam Pomfrey just shook her head and asked me why I hadn't come to take my medicine at regular time. What medicine? I thought I was healthy.
Hermione jumped with widened eyes (why? What frightened her?) and jabbered something about vitamins, but I saw her put a finger to her lips, and Pomfrey nodded. And Ron whispered, "He's fine today, he's quiet." Are they talking about me? Funny, I'm always quiet. I'll sort out later what they're playing at.
I said, fine, give your vitamins, I'm sleepy. There were lots of them: green, yellow, blue, red, orange, two white ones and a purple vitamin. Then they made me drink a potion. I spat it out, and Pomfrey patted my head like I was some sort of a child.
She left, and I noticed a dark figure behind the portrait, whom Pomfrey told he's fine.

March 1st

Wow.
Wow. Wow.
I'm top of my class at Charms. Professor Flitwick said so in front of everyone. It's all Hermione's influence, she's making me pour over numerous textbooks, says it has a very calming effect.
On whom? On her?
Ron, Seamus, Dean and I played Exploding Snap on wishes. Seamus had to give Ron all his chocolate frog cards, Dean stripped in the common room, Ron said to some first year he loved her, and I had to scare the first person I saw by jumping out of a corner.
I hid behind the statue of a one-eyed witch and waited, listening for approaching footsteps. Waited for twenty-five minutes until finally someone was coming; I got ready and jumped out of my hideout with a scream.
Banged into someone, they hugged me so tightly, inescapably. And the scent is pleasant - dried herbs and mint. I lift up my head...
Damn! Snape!
I shrink, screw my eyes shut, pull my head into my shoulders, he's not letting go. Presses me closer, his arms are strong and warm, I feel it through my robe. He says, Mister Potter, look at me.
I shake my head and keep my eyes closed.
He embraces me, lifts me off the floor and I feel his breath on my hair. Baby, he says, look at me.
No!
He gently kisses my forehead, sighs heavily and I understand that he'll let me go now and leave.
No!
I throw up my head, butting his chin, but it's ok, he didn't even notice, and I stare, stare, stare and drown in his eyes. Drown. And he's staring, and then bends down and lightly touches my bitten lips with his, dry and warm. It's so good, so strange.
He presses tighter and I give in, I open my mouth because somehow I know that's what he's waiting for. And then I'm driven torturously mad by the languid strokes of his tongue, but it ends quickly, he pulls away with a groan, kisses my lashes, my cheeks and pushes me back. Leaning against the wall, slowly sliding down it, I watch him sweep away without a glance, his back so straight, his stride so even...

I'm in love.

March 6th

I'm still in love.
Told Ron. He's laughing, muttering something like wow, how unexpected, but I don't give a shit, I'm looking at HIM.
I realize I love Potions classes, I love all the fragrant and friable ingredients, I love the smoke above his cauldron, I love watching his long nimble fingers, dancing above the cutting board.
I don't want the seventh year to end. I want to go to school forever. This mine aspiration is supported only by Hermione.
I told her I'm in love with Snape.
She said, "I know."

March 24th

I wait for him by the Potions office. Bite my lip and recite my thought-out speech, but it doesn't help a bit - I'm insanely nervous. He appears at the end of the corridor and he isn't surprised at all to see me there, propping up the wall. He stops near and I... I can't squeeze out a word, my mouth is dry and my knees almost buckle. He scoffs, opens the door and walks inside. And leaves the door open.
I come in and he sweeps me into his arms, presses me to his hard chest, and finally my hands dig into his hair.
He says, you came, baby.
I say I came.
Came to you.
To you.

He is laughing, and for some reason his laughter sounds more like a sob, I stroke his face to make sure it's dry, and it is.
He carries me to his rooms, he says the password 'blossoming fern,' and I know it, I somehow know it.
He undoes my robe, I stare at him and drown in his eyes again. I'm all right. Now I understand that at this moment I'm finally all right. I'm myself. I'm home. I'm adequate. I'm pacified. I want.
Him.
Later, when he enters my body with a jerk, I arch and scream, I clutch at his shoulders, and tears keep pouring out of my eyes because I know that it will end, no matter how beautiful and perfect, it will end.
He's thrusting into me, and it's amazing. Every thrust is rewarded with a kiss, and it's great. I whisper to him, "Don't leave, don't leave."
No, he says, never.
I plunge into the dawn, the dusk, the tempestuous ocean, into his heart, his veins, and I come, I cling to him tighter and come.
Falling asleep, I hear him whisper that I'm right, that stars are the black parts on the sometimes visible white background.

April 5th

Sev, I say, remember when we used to go to Diagon Alley... and break off. Where did I get that? We never left Hogwarts together since I started sleeping here this March.
What? No, I'm perfectly all right.
But for some reason I can't remember any of last year, but I don't tell him that: I don't want to destroy our fragile happiness.
I just remembered - I'm Harry.

April 12th

I worry that Voldemort has been quiet and not shown for a while; maybe he's plotting something. I go to Dumbledore and ask him about it.
He looks at me sadly and says, enjoy your life, my boy, forget about him.
I don't understand. How can anyone forget Voldemort? I ask Severus, and he walks around upset all evening. And late at night he wakes me and asks, urges me, begs me about something.
Don't Harry, don't, don't think, don't remember, don't leave...
Die without you.
Baby.
My head hurts all morning.
I dreamt Severus died.

April 27th

I'm unwell. I snap, I refuse to take these damned pills in the mornings, too. I was sick all night, I feel like I've forgotten something.
Dragging reluctantly to Potions class.
I hate Snape so much!
For fun, threw a pinch of Dragonsbane into Malfoy's cauldron. The explosion took off Malfoy's head and the entire eastern wall.
I'm vomiting bile, I'm dying.

June 10th

They tell me it's summer, but of course I don't believe them, because where is May? Did they cancel it this year?
I laugh. The doctor recoils.
Can't remember his last name, I think it starts with an A. I'm in bed and I'm tied up.
Why?
What do you mean you have to?
Get Severus. I'm asking you, get him, I need to see the scars on his hands. Yes, I insist. Don't you understand? Tell me...
Where is he? What's the matter with him?! Get SEVERUS!!
I twist and holler, trying to dislodge the straps that tie me to the bed. It's me, the Boy-Who-Lived! You can't treat me this way, I'm this world's hope, I don't understand why I'm here, why I'm tied up. Have I been captured?
Sparkling dots float before my eyes, I can't breathe, the air is soaked with poison. I feel the straps tear - or is it the skin on my struggling arms?

June 12th

Severus?
Where is he?
He'll come, right? Why can't he? Why isn't he here? What's the matter with him? Is he... alive?
Oh god.
Please, be merciful, burn me alive.

June 20th

How is he? Did he wake up?
I want to go to him. They won't let me, they say he was hurt in some explosion and is still in a coma. I say I need to look at him. I'll do anything you want! If you want, I'll kill Voldemort!
They say no thanks, he's dead already.

June 26th

Hi, my own. You're so beautiful. You're asleep. Wake up, I love you.
Take his hand, it's cold. I warm it with my breath, I kiss his scars. He's covered in them, his face, his arms, like my soul.
I say I killed Voldemort, long ago it turns out, and I'm crazy, got a note and everything.
I blew you up.
I strangled Hedwig.
I crippled Ron.
I killed... Draco.
Wake up, please, or I'll forget everything again.
Honestly, if you wake up, I won't ever do that again, I won't forget, I won't leave; remember you asked me not to? I finished school; we can go someplace far, far away, where no one knows us. I'll call you Sev and you'll keep me on the brink.
It's so easy to go mad, so difficult to restrain myself now: I want to rant and rave, sink my teeth into your arm and gnaw all your scars off.

Wake up. Please, I won't ask for anything else. Want me to list all the colors of my pills? Some of them aren't even supposed to exist.

I love you.

August 14th

A wall. White. Familiar. No matter how much you hit your head against it, it won't crack. On the twelfth time I realized it. I think this wall alone keeps me calm; I achieve some sort of peace and can catch at my thoughts.
Alone.
This is forever. I'm sick forever. How many more people could I have killed? I hate these fits. I hate the Potions Master or I love him?
They tell me if I sign this he'll take me away, and I say no, because then I'll kill him.
He came to me, limping, and asked me, and I said I'm crazy, he doesn't need me.
I said, find Draco and be happy with him.
He slapped me.
And I laughed because I just remembered - my name is Harry.

September 1st

He spent the entire day with me in the hospital park.
What about the school? Retired? Frightened the children? No, you're insanely beautiful.
He smiles, pats my cheek, a leaf falls on my lap, still green, maple. Insane. I want to take a walk but can't, can't feel my feet; I spend all my days in bed. And I want to kiss him in the rain. I say, will you take me home?
Yes, he says yes, I'll kiss you silly and definitely in the rain.
The shower will do also.
He laughs.

October 1st

I walk, slowly and uncertainly, but I do. And wait for the next fit, though Severus said it won't be too soon, but I don't care, I care that he's safe when it happens. He swears he will be.
Today he gave me my wand back. I said Nox, and he understood and kissed me.
Hedwig brought me a letter.
Severus, was Hedwig always this black?
Ron writes that learning to be an Auror is terribly difficult, and I'm lucky I've gone crazy in such a timely manner. Well, well, I'll remember that.
I just remembered I drew Mrs. Norris once with crimson paint. Severus brought me some paints.
I dissolve them in a pitcher of milk. Severus laughed all night, because Dumbledore visited and asked for a glass. So what? Serves him right. By the way, I realized I can have a normal life and still be crazy. Dumbledore does.
Will you make me your heir?
Severus grasps my shoulder.
At night he makes me scream, and it's our first time after the explosion.

November 4th

I just remembered - I'm Harry.
I never recall my former last name.

Fin.