Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely writing this for my amusement as well as the amusement of those who read this fic.

Title: The Slave

Warnings: Cursing, maybe some slash later on (that's male/male romance, people; don't like? Don't read!)

Pairings: Sirius x Severus, Remus x Severus

Rating: PG-13 to be safe

Genre: Humor

Summary: When Harry is pushed too far during an Occlumency lesson, Severus Snape suffers the consequences…

Notes: OK, I've decided to take a break from SSBB for a while. I've got bad writer's block… Anyway, my husband is sitting this one out; he's not too interested in Harry Potter, and is too busy to write fics anymore… =( This fic is the result of reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix too many times. Oh, and the SB/SS pics on DeviantArt… Anyway, I don't really know how long this one will be. It could be a few chapters, or it could go on for twenty! Either way, enjoy! ^_^

Chapter 1: Occlumency Gone Wrong

Harry Potter sat on the stone floor, confused and a bit afraid. He didn't know what had happened. Snape had been probing his mind, he had gotten angry with the potion master's taunts, and then… With a sick feeling in his stomach, Harry looked across the room where said potions master was now sprawled unconscious on the floor. He had actually attacked his teacher. He had meant to cast a shield charm, but had been thinking about casting Crucio on the greasy-haired git… Actually, he couldn't remember which of the two spells he had actually shouted.

It wasn't as if he felt very sorry for hurting the man. Snape was, after all, his most hated teacher. However, he was sure that if the unconscious man wasn't actually dead, then he would certainly make sure that his student was. If he was dead… Needless to say, Harry didn't want to think about that scenario…

For a long time Harry sat on the floor, uncertain about what to do. "First I should see if he's alive…" he thought, though he was reluctant to approach the teacher. Finally, he stood up and crossed the office. Looking down at the man, Harry could see that his chest rose and fell steadily. His eyes were closed, and he was very still. He was alive, though.

Now Harry wondered what he should do. He remembered a bit of information from a Health class long ago, when he attended muggle school. The voice of his fourth-grade teacher sounded in his head, saying, "Should you ever come across an injured person, or witness a person being injured, do not move them until help arrives."

That was one option down. Harry glanced towards the door, wondering if he should go find help. He hesitated to do so, though. If he left the room, then there was a chance that the professor would wake up and notice him gone. If that happened, then Harry was sure that the greasy git would go flapping off to Dumbledore's office, complaining of Harry's "hit-and-run attempt at murder." Then again, there was the more likely possibility that someone else would come into the room and see the unconscious professor. A few inquiries would reveal that Harry had been seen going into the office last, and then his fate would be sealed.

Deciding against going for help, Harry began steeling himself for the moment when Snape would wake up and kill him.

He didn't have to wait long.

The corridors were deserted at that time, as most of the students had gone to their dorms or were still at dinner. Still, Harry had stationed himself by the door just in case someone passed by. He hoped that he could flag down a teacher and ask for help. He was straining to hear the sound of footsteps when his ears picked up an entirely different sound. Snape was groaning behind him.

With a feeling of dread, Harry turned to see the potions master sitting up groggily. The man blinked a few times, and then looked up at Harry. The boy didn't say a thing as Snape frowned up at him. Harry was sure that he'd get a thorough tongue-lashing before being hexed into the middle of next week. The professor opened his mouth, looked about to say something, then closed it again. He did this a few more times, and then spoke with obvious sincerity.

"Who are you?"

Harry was startled by the soft tone of the professor's voice. "Um… Sir, surely you don't mean me?" it couldn't hurt to be polite, especially under these circumstances.

"Who else is in this room, besides us?" there was the familiar tone, though it lacked the usual malicious edge that Snape reserved for Harry.

"I- it's me, Sir," Harry took a step towards the professor, "Harry Potter, remember?"

"Harry Potter…" Snape seemed to think about this for a moment, then he said, "I do not remember that name. As a matter of fact, I do not remember this place…" A frown creased his brow as he looked around worriedly, "Where am I? And… who… am I…" Slowly, he looked down at his own hands. They were trembling, and Harry realized that the professor was afraid.

With this realization came another cognizance that he, Harry, was responsible for this. At a loss for words, Harry said the only thing that seemed appropriate at the time: "Oh, bollocks…"


By the time Harry had explained everything to Dumbledore and McGonagall, Severus was already in the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey was busy with a sick student when the two elder professors entered the room. They both walked directly to Severus' bed, where he lay with a look of utter confusion on his face.

"Hello, there, Severus," Dumbledore pulled a chair closer to the bed to sit on it, "How are you feeling?"

"… Not so well…" Severus frowned at the other two, "Forgive me, but…"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said before Severus could finish, "Forgive me, my boy. I've not properly re-introduced myself. I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster here at Hogwarts. I assume Poppy has told you that you are at Hogwarts?"


"Good, good. Then allow me to re-introduce Minerva McGonagall."

"…It's a pleasure…" Severus said, extending his hand to each of them in turn, "I suppose you know who I am…"

"Of course," McGonagall said, "We have worked together for fourteen years. Professor Dumbledore and were also your teachers when you were a student here. Do you remember?"

"I- I'm sorry… No…" Severus shook his head, lowering his eyes to his lap.

"It's all right, my boy," Dumbledore patted Severus' leg reassuringly, "We'll find out what's wrong with you, and hopefully have you cured soon."

"I'll go get Poppy," McGonagall said, and walked into the little office where the med witch was still applying an ice pack to the student's forehead. The two women returned in a moment, and Pomfrey greeted Dumbledore warmly.

"Poppy," the elder wizard asked, "What is his condition? Did you contact St. Mungo's?"

"I did," Pomfrey nodded, "They said they can't do much about it. It's retrograde amnesia, you see. It's very hard to cure completely. It seems to be magically induced. What happened?"

"Just an accident during a lesson," Dumbledore said, "I'm afraid a student underestimated his own strength. What is the outlook for his treatment?"

"I'm afraid I don't have a treatment planned yet," the med witch sighed, glancing at Severus' glaring face, "However, we need to keep him someplace quiet. It would be very bad for him to be confronted with too many familiar things at once, and we need to keep the number of visitors down for a while. It could actually make his condition worse if we were to overload him with information."

"I see," Dumbledore turned to Severus, who was scowling up at them, "Well, Severus, would you be comfortable with changing your living arrangements for a while?"

"Oh, are you addressing me?" the dark-eyed man sneered, "Am I to assume that I should turn my sense of hearing back on, as you are finished talking about me?"

"Haha!" Dumbledore chuckled and patted Severus' leg again, "Good to see you've retained your personality. That's something, at least. We're terribly sorry for speaking about you while you were present."


"Very well, then. Severus, would you object to a change of scenery?"

Severus looked around at the plain infirmary. He didn't really like being stuck in that bed, and he didn't feel like staying there for Merlin knew how long. "I would be agreeable to that…" he said, looking back at Dumbledore.

"Good, good," the old man stood up and nodded to Severus, "Until tomorrow, then. It is a good idea for you to remain but one night here, so Poppy can keep an eye on you."

"Yes, Sir," Severus agreed, and leaned back on the pillows as Dumbledore and McGonagall left the room.

As they closed the infirmary door behind them, McGonagall asked, "Well, then, what place did you have in mind for Severus' recovery?"

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place," the headmaster replied without hesitation.

"G- Grimmauld Place?" McGonagall put a hand to her throat in surprise, "Headmaster, permit me to ask why, of all places…"

"Oh, it's the safest place I can think of. Unless you want him to stay here, and possibly be driven to madness by the crowds of students who, I'm sure, will be very curious about this new development."

"I see your point. However… Well, with his rivalry with Sirius… You don't think Sirius would do anything to harm him?"

"Minerva, you know Sirius as well as I," Dumbledore paused to observe a small group of students scurrying away from the library as Madame Pince shouted at them. "He is not the same foolhardy schoolboy he once was."

"Yes, but he is an exceedingly irresponsible man…"

"Perhaps, considering Severus' condition, he can find a bit of maturity in himself."

"I hope you are right…" Minerva sighed as she parted ways with the headmaster to deal with the giggling group of students who thought that they could get away with causing mischief in the library.


Well? It's sort of an experiment, since I've never written HP fiction before. I'll continue if I get at least one good review, so… please review! Good, bad, neutral… I want to know what you, the reader, thinks of this story. I'm open to criticism. ^_^