A/N:For those of you reading this because of a story alert for Controlled Emotions this is the prologue for the next part of the story which is called "Losing Control" so please go to my profile and put an alert on the new story if you want to carry on getting updates xx

Well it has been a while. Sorry. I will not give excuses for my long absence... real life just took over. However, I will attempt to make good my promise on continuing my first story "Controlled Emotions". For those of you who have not read "Controlled Emotions" I plan for this story to be a standalone piece in its own right and is Snape's POV during the same time frame as that of the original story which is in Harry's POV. So obviously "Controlled Emotions" contain spoilers for this piece and visa vera.

The plan is that this piece will continue beyond the time frame of Controlled Emotions once we have discovered what on earth Snape was thinking!

Warnings:

This is a HP/SS story and is rated M for a reason. Also strong language in parts. The time frame for this story is not canon compliant. Harry did his 7th year before defeating Voldmort etc. but apart from the time frame most other things compliant to canon (apart from the relationship between Harry and Snape obviously LOL)

Not been beta'd. Sorry for any mistakes.

Losing Control

Prologue – A Time to Remember

10th September 2002

Severus Snape woke abruptly with his heart pounding in time to the loud pulsing screech of alarms he had hoped he would never hear. Sitting bolt upright in bed, he grabbed his wand with one hand, as the other searched blindly for the warm body he expected to be there, but all it found was a cold emptiness. Severus' looked down at the empty bed beside him as his surroundings came into focus and let out an anguished grunt when he realised he was alone. The phantom alarms faded, as did the images of his recurring dream.

Snatching his hand away from the coldness, he ran it over his tired face and slumped back onto his bed. He should be used to the monthly occurrence of waking in this manner, but this particular recurring dream always left him emotionally drained. It was more a memory than a dream - a memory that forced its way into his unconscious mind whilst he slept, and reminded him that it would die in the vial where it was stored if not replaced soon.

Severus lay for a moment trying to calm his racing heart and recapture the dream, but it was gone. He could never remember it, but it left him feeling sad and deeply lonely.

After a few minutes, once his heart had settled and his mind had cleared, he swung his legs out of bed, made his way over to an intricately carved cabinet that sat in the corner of his room, and opened its heavy wooden doors to reveal nine neatly stored crystal vials. The liquid these vials contained shimmered in the darkness, and sparks of red and green danced about in seemingly random patterns amongst the silvery liquid. These nine vials were the only thing that marked the passing of time in Severus life - the monthly ritual of waking with the phantom sound of Hogwarts wards being breached reminding him to replace memories he apparently would rather forget.

Sighing, he picked up the tray that held the vials and carefully carried them out to a small covered patio area, placed them on a coffee table that served as his breakfast table most mornings and slumped into a comfortable wicker chair. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the old yellowing parchment beside the vials and focused on his own flowing script.

Date: 10th September 1997

These vials belong to Severus Snape and contain memories from the 1st September 1997 to 9th September 1997 inclusive. They are stored here using the Repono charm and are not for viewing in a pensive or for transference to anyone other than their owner. An attempt to do so may irrevocably damage the viewer's memories of their own life to date, and result in mental displacement and insanity.

Signed

Severus Snape.

Beneath the transcript, there were notes - the first dated 10th October 1997, the last, which was squeezed in at the bottom right hand corner, the 10th August 2002 - exactly one month ago. Five years, thought Severus, as he read the notes. Five years of hiding from whatever these vials held.

All the notes encouraged him to let the memories die in a harsh untidy scrawl so different from his usual precise flowing script. Placing the parchment back beside the vials, he leant back and closed his eyes. Severus could not understand why he felt it necessary to remove these memories, month after month, and instruct himself to let them die. He wondered what could be worse than the memory of the night he took the Dark Mark, or of the Dark Lord killing his childhood friend or of Albus falling from the Astronomy tower after he had cast the Unforgivable. His life was full of painful memories, why did he feel it necessary to extract these 9 days, for 5 years. Should he just let them die, as his monthly notes suggested? Should he cut part of his life out as though it had never happened? Severus opened his eyes and sat up straighter; he knew he could not. He knew that whatever memories these vials held he had to learn how to deal with them somehow. Learn to live with what he had done, since he was sure it was memories of yet more atrocities he had committed.

Severus resolved that this time would be the last time he would replace them. He would not extract them again, and would face up to whatever it was that was he had done. After carefully unstoppering all nine vials, he drew his wand and dipped its tip into each in turn whilst watching in fascination as the shimmering strands wrapped themselves around the black ebony wood. The strands pulsed gently in streaks of red, green and silver, and made Severus wonder if there were any significance to their colour. Memories he extracted for viewing in a pensive, were silver or black; to have red, equally threaded though these strands made him nervous. Probably something to do with Harry Bloody Potter he thought bitterly. Hadn't everything been about Harry-The-Boy-That-Lived-Just-To-Die-At- The-Proper-Moment-Potter?

Something tugged at the edge of his consciousness as he thought about that Merlin forsaken brat. There was something about the way the boy had looked and spoken to him on the last two occasions he had seen him. The first occasion had been in the Great Hall just before the final battle. The little brat had stood up to him and said he had trusted him. Harry Potter had trusted him. It did not sit right in his memories of their past. The look in the boy's eyes that night had shocked Severus. He had expected hatred, but there had been no hate, there had not even been any anger; instead, his green eyes radiated a pained desire that Severus had thought was a desire to see him dead, yet, the boy had not drawn his wand to fight him or even to defend himself. It had been as though the boy knew Severus would not harm him – could never have harmed him.

Severus was fully aware his feelings toward the boy had changed over the years. It was not something he admitted to himself now, but he had grown to care for the boy as he had got to know him. Not that he had ever shown signs of that to Potter. He had maintained his outward facade of hate right up until the moments before the end, indeed, the last time he had seen the boy was just before the idiotic Gryffindor had walked to his death whilst Severus lay dying himself. The memory was hazy, but there had been something odd about the way Potter had held him in his arms that night. Something strange about the way the boy's surprisingly warm caressing hands had held closed the neck wounds from Nagini's bite. Those small hands had gently stroked his face almost tenderly as they collected the memories he had given him. Memories Severus had known would lead the boy to his death. There was no hate in those stunning green eyes then either - just a sad yearning - a grief.

Severus scowled, he was unable to reconcile the memories of those two occasions with what he remembered about his relationship with the boy. Yes, these strands of light slithering around his wand must be about that little runt, but he was determined to replace them regardless. Standing on weary legs, he returned to his bedroom and lay down. A shaky hand brought the tip of his wand to his temple, and he quietly muttered, "Restituo Memoria".

Pain instantly shot through him causing his back to arch and his eyes to slam shut. The strands of light burrowed in through his skull, and they felt like hot rods of iron hammering into his brain. Severus let out a muffled grunt of pain just before his mind shut down, his body slumped into unconsciousness and his world turned into a swirling black.

A/N: OK I know short start but this just sets the background for the story after we have relived Controlled Emotions from Severus' POV, which will be retold in the following chapters. I am actually feeling rather vulnerable about posting this since I have had a few problems with my writing recently. So please review and let me know what you think LH XX