Title: I Remember You

Author: Vay

Rating: G

Pairing: preslash, HP/SS

Disclaimer: I do not own nor even try to pretend that I own anything within the HP world. They are all property of the wonderful JK Rowling. I just abuse them

Feedback: Yes please! Sunshine_56_21@yahoo.ca

Beta: Lys (much thanks for the super quick job)

Archive: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm Challenge: “Not Here! Not Now!” Wave X

Author's notes: The only one out of four which got completed. Not the one I had hoped to finish, but alas we can't all control our muse.

“I remember you, you know.”

“Potter, I would hope that even someone with the decidedly low mental facilities that you seem to possess would remember their professor of 6 years and enemy of 12.”

“No, I mean, I remember you. 16 years ago? The park in Surrey, one chilly October afternoon?”

The man sitting behind the large mahogany desk stopped the quill in its sideways trajectory across the stiff parchment. It was these calm, even movements from the man that let Harry know he had gotten through to him, and that his ex-professor and the man he could no longer hate knew exactly what he was talking about. The man - Severus Snape, ex-Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and current apothecary owner just outside of Diagon Alley for the past 3 years, was still held to many stigmas of his past, perhaps the largest ones being a “known” Death Eater and not to mention murderer of the greatest wizard alive, Albus Dumbledore - even after the trials had cleared his name. Despite any ill repute he seemed much unchanged even now, sitting with his hands clasped tightly before him, piercing eyes glaring at the man who would always be a boy in his mind.

“I trust you have another reason for tainting my doorstop with your presence other than that of bringing up childhood memories that do not pertain to me.” The words were cold, like ice freezing the very air, and Harry could have sworn he saw fog emit from the man's mouth just from the temperature that tone elicited.

“I know you remember. Why can't you admit that you remember? Is it really so horrible to be seen as human?” Harry ran a hand through his mop of hair, still unruly even after he had matured. “I don't remember all of it, but I do remember. Did you know it was me at first? Did you know all along? Or did the realization come only after we spoke to one another, and you removed my cap? Were you there on Dumbledore's orders?” A flurry of noise drew Harry's attention from the stones of the floor up to the desk where the man he had come to interrogate (for surely that was exactly what he was doing) was standing up, eyes flashing in anger and wand drawn from god only knew where.

“Get out. Get the hell out of my store, and don't come back. We will not discuss this, not now, not ever!” A jet of silver shot from the wand and the door behind Harry slammed open, the cold winter air rushing in to whip around his legs and sting against the bare flesh of his hands and face.

“Sir, Snape…Severus, please ! I just…I just want to know. Did you know it was me?”

And suddenly he was on his arse, cobblestones digging painfully into his back, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the street. When he looked up the door he had just exited had its sign turned to ‘Closed' and all of the lights were out. He knew, though he did not bother to try, that the door was locked and nothing short of a battering ram (though he was quite sure even that would not work) could open it without the password to the wards. Sighing, Harry picked himself up off the ground and began the short walk home. He could easily have apparated but somehow he felt he deserved the physical strain, however small it may be.

On the other side of the door, Severus Snape stood against the woodwork, leaning against the wall so as to stay out of sight from the door, body trembling and feet barely supporting his weight. Out of the many scenarios he had thought up in his mind about his next fated meeting with Potter, that topic had never once been on the list of possibilities. He remembered, of course, and he had known, and he only now wished that he could forget it all – men such as him were not allowed to be given such pleasant memories.

The wind was cold and the sky filled with gray clouds that offered no hope for a sunny break. Leaves swirled lazily around the ground, crisp and dry in their death in the small whirlwind dance. A young boy, no older than seven, ran through the small beaten path in the park, paying no attention to the weather or the fallen leaves that were strewn about the grounds.

“Leave me alone!” His voice was high and shrill, a direct contrast to the low pound of his worn out shoes slapping the hard earth. He twisted his head around to look behind him, throwing his hat askew in the process and speeding up as much as he could when he saw the group of boys farther behind him chasing him on. One, he knew, was his cousin, while the others must have been friends of his – trust Dudley to be able to threaten an entire gaggle of school children into helping him hunt Harry.

It was with no small amount of shock and dismay that Harry felt himself collide with something hard and solid, mentally berating as he fell to the ground. He was done-for now, Dudley would drag him away to another part of the park and use him for a punching bag the moment he had been kicked to the ground.

“Watch where you're going, you little hellion!” Harry looked up sharply, noting with surprise that what he had crashed into was a rather tall, rather severe looking man with dark hair and the blackest eyes he had ever seen.

“I…I'm sorry, sir! I was trying to get away and I wasn't looking where I was going and really I am sorry! Are you ok? Sorry!” It was at this point that Dudley and his entourage arrived, panting heavily but with grins across their faces all; Dudley's grin weakened as he saw the man, dressed in an odd sort of flowing cloak, standing imposingly above Harry. His grin was wiped off his face completely when the man sneered at him.

“Friends of yours, I presume?” The man's voice was deep and captivating, and it reminded Harry of forbidden sweets and the comforting dark of night. It took Harry a moment to realize that the man had even uttered words, so smooth was that voice.

Harry blushed and looked back at his cousin and the rest, wincing slightly when Dudley opened his mouth and began to speak.

“Like we'd hang out with a freak like him, the little runt. I mean… We were just…er…playing a game of tag, and he was the last one to be caught.” Dudley trailed off, weight shifting from foot to foot as he was scrutinized by the man.

“Leave.”

“Wh-what?” And Harry had thought that Dudley couldn't possibly look stupider.

“Leave, Go, Be gone from my sight; your presence is making me angry. Turn your obese body around and march in the opposite direction of myself. Quit this area, disappear from view, run off, depart - what part of leave do you not understand, boy?”

Dudley looked stricken, as if the man had physically slapped him across the face. Harry looked back at the man to notice his lips moving silently; a twitch of his hand, and suddenly Dudley and the rest of the children had turned around and fled, the echo of their footsteps and the rustle of their coats and jackets soon fading as well.

“Cowards; useless, the pack of them.” Harry stood up, backing away slightly from the man and apologizing once more before turning to leave. Something was not adding up here and he did not understand the feeling he was getting from this man; almost as if he could feel waves of something radiating off of him. He stiffened and came to a halt when he heard the man call out in that beautiful voice “Not you. You may stay.”

“Before you throw me out on my arse again, could I at least say one thing?”

Severus was surprised that the man had come back again so soon; he had known that the nuisance would return, but he had thought that he would have had at least three or four days to prepare himself. The very next morning was a bit of a shock.

“If it is about that ridiculous memory you claim to have of me from almost 2 decades ago, then no.” Severus raised his wand in warning, though his eyes never left the account book sitting open on his desk.
“I…no, that's not what I've come to ask.” Severus snorted inelegantly, the lowering of his wand being the only indication that Harry was to continue.
“I wanted to know…what you do here. Why you're still here, how the shop's been going, you know…about you.” It was all said in a nervous rush, which only gained him a sneer and those black fathomless eyes rising from the notebook to pierce his own. Suddenly Harry wasn't so sure that he wanted those eyes on him after all.

“While I may call you a brainless moron, I do not believe that you actually are one, at least not entirely. I would expect you to pay me the same courtesy. What I am doing here is quite obvious, and if you actually applied your primitive mind to the question at hand I'm sure you could garner both why I am still here, how my apothecary is doing,” here he gave a pointed look to an old man pouring over a barrel of spider legs with great enthusiasm, “and conclude how I myself am. Now if you don't mind, I have some business to attend to and you are only hindering me from proceeding further.”

“I…why were you so nice to me back then? When I first arrived at Hogwart's you practically glared me out of my chair. The two scenarios don't make any sense together!”

Harry rubbed his back in sympathy as he picked himself up off the stones of the street outside. He hadn't even seen Severus move his hand, let alone take out his wand and cast the spell. Giving the shop's door a murderous look Harry spun on his heel and went home to work out his next strategy.

“I should be getting back, sir. Once Dudley goes to Aunt Petunia, well I…” Harry trailed off, flushing slightly as he realized what he had been about to say. If there was one thing he had learned in his rather young, rather short life, it was that most people either did not want to hear what he had to say or they did not care. Scuffing a toe on the cold ground, he looked up under the brim of his hat at the man, waiting for him to either dismiss him or demand he stay. His hands fell down to the hem of his jacket and began to fiddle with the fabric, twisting it into knots in his hands as the man simply continued to stare. Harry almost flinched when finally the man moved, reaching a hand out to lift the brim of his cap off his face. Harry noted in passing that the man's fingers were long and elegant, though they seemed to be stained at the ends by some sort of substance – like the tobacco-yellowed fingertips of the homeless he often saw in the park.

A small nod, as if the man knew what he would see when he removed the cap, and suddenly the man was kneeling before him, their faces almost nose to nose.

“Po… tell me, what's your name, boy?” Harry's eyes widened as he chewed his lip; really, though, he could see no harm in telling this man – he could be no worse than the Dursley's.

“Harry, sir.”

“Surely you have a last name?”

Here Harry paused, almost as if his last name were taboo. Thinking it over, Harry thought that it probably was. In a tiny voice, he answered.

“Potter.”

“Ah.”

It turned out that the next day Harry didn't even need to utilize his next strategy; a new one presented itself immediately upon him opening the door.

“Damn it, Potter! Don't just stand there, lend me a hand!”

Severus, for Harry had stopped thinking of him as Snape long ago, was standing precariously on a wooden chair, body stretched out and hands raised high above his head as he tried to balance the large box he had been attempting to pull down from the top of the shelf (and what impressive shelves they were, extending from floor to ceiling and lining the entire shop. Each shelf contained bottles, vials, and small boxes full of potions and ingredients on the lower shelves, while the higher ones held larger boxes and what appeared to be supplies) while still maintaining his balance on the chair.

Harry chuckled softly and walked over, holding onto Severus' legs to steady him. He felt the muscles tense beneath his fingers before the man quickly juggled the box from the shelf and down to the floor, hopping off the chair and brushing Harry away in the same movement.

“Your timing was most convenient. Now either buy something or leave.”

“I believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Severus; aside from when I was 7, of course.”

Severus gave him an angry glare, but with his hands full of the recently acquired box he was unable to hex the boy. Harry silently sighed in relief and thanked whatever gods may be for small miracles. Harry figured a change of topic was necessary at this point.

“Why didn't you just use magic to levitate the box down?”

“ Why didn't you just use magic to levitate the box down?” Harry flinched at the mocking tone. “Because, you imbecile, certain potion ingredients are contaminated or ruined from the residue that magic leaves behind and must be treated carefully and cautiously until the brewing stage. Any first year would know this; ah, but then again, you always were less intelligent than the rest.”

Harry blinked and shrugged, grabbing the box from Severus' arms (and staggering a little under the weight. Funny, it looked so light when Severus was carrying it) and looked around the shop.

“So; where do you want it?” Severus sneered but pointed to a door near the back of the shop.

“In there should be sufficient. Don't break anything on your way in. Place it on the table, but be mindful of the cauldron on the desk. It is in a delicate brewing stage right now.”

Harry snorted and marched his way into the room.

“I suppose you're feeling just as reluctant today as you were yesterday about discussing what you know I want to discuss the most, eh?” Harry set the box down, sending a curious look towards the cauldron Severus had mentioned. Purple smoke was slowly wafting out of the mouth and Harry could just see a dull red liquid gently bubbling. Turning around to head back into the store Harry nearly crashed into the table as he jumped in surprise. Severus was standing mere inches from him, having crept up silently to make sure that Harry did not touch anything valuable; or so Harry assumed.

“Merlin, Severus, don't do that!” Severus merely smirked, turning on his heel and exiting the room, Harry close on his heels.

“To answer your question, yes, I am.” Severus seated himself behind the counter of the shop, flicking his wand to tidy up a few stray papers that were lying about the marble surface. “However, if it will stop you from hounding me, I will concede that I remember the incident to which you are alluding.”

Harry knew when to press and when to back away; this was a definite case of the latter. He knew it was all he would get for now and frankly his backside was bruised enough for the moment. He did not want to be sent out on his arse again, and so he beamed at the stoic man behind the desk, reveling in the shudder that passed visibly through Severus, before turning his gaze back to the many shelves.

“Think it's going to be a busy day?”

Severus just groaned.

“Well, Mr. Harry Potter, I suggest that next time fate deals you such an unfortunate hand, you make a point to watch where you are fleeing to before you crash so unceremoniously into another stranger.” The man stood up, giving Harry a small smile as he brushed off his knees. The smile looked odd, as if he hadn't had much practice using it, but Harry got the sentiment all the same. Blushing furiously, he mumbled another apology.

“M'sorry.”

“Don't let it happen again.”

“No sir. Can I…I was wondering…” His hands clenched the edge of his jacket tightly now, eyes looking at the man's shoes. He somehow could not find the courage to look him in the eye. “I was wondering if…I could see you again sometime.” He didn't know why he asked, only that he wanted to see this man, who had been nice to him for no reason even after he had ran straight into him, and that he didn't want to go back home right now. It seemed that the Dursley's had left him horribly desperate for kindness, and when he found it he couldn't help but latch on to it.

The heavy silence eventually drew his eyes up to the face of the mysterious man. His smile was gone, and he had an almost sad, almost angry expression that marred the lines of his face and gave his mouth a jagged edge to it.

“Why must you insist on annoying me? Every day, for the past 2 weeks now, I have been unable to get rid of you. You are like a stain upon stone stairs – impossible to remove and unsightly to the eye.”

Harry glanced up from the bucket of – things – he was examining to give Severus a huge grin.

“Admit it, you pine for my company. A day without me would be like a cloud obscuring the sunshine.”

“I happen to like it when the clouds obscure the sun; cloudy days lead to the better quality of my ingredients. The sun has not had the chance to dry out the moisture of the day yet, and thus the plants are fresher.”

Harry huffed in resignation.

“Is that even true or are you trying to make me look stupid again?”

“One hardly needs to try, Mr. Potter.”

“Ha-ha. Anyways; what's on the agenda for today?”

“Well, you were just about to leave my shop and I was just about to start cataloguing, organizing, and labeling all of my newest ingredients.”

Harry's face fell at the thought.

“But that could take all day!”

“Luckily for you, you were just leaving, so you don't need to concern yourself over it.”

Harry gave a look of longing towards the door; he had made a habit of visiting Severus every morning, refusing to leave until he closed the shop. He had to admit to himself, when he was here he usually had fun. It was enjoyable to sit and banter with Severus, to discuss random topics and yes, even potions. He loathed the idea of leaving. Rolling up his sleeves, he gave Severus a firm look.

“So; which box is first?” Severus groaned.

“Will you ever let me alone, you vile incubus?”

“No. Not unless you sit down and talk with me about that memory.” Severus threw his hands up in the air, stalking towards the first box while he muttered about obnoxious children and their stubborn attitudes.

“It wouldn't take more than an hour, Severus! Come on.”

“No. I already admitted I remembered. Why do you want to know the rest?”

“Because I think…I think that there's more than you're letting on. And I like it when I spend time with you. And I want to spend more.”

Harry dodged the hex just in time, vaguely noting in satisfaction that it was a stool out on the street right now and not him.

“Don't spew out such nonsense, you idiot boy! I am your ex-professor; I am your enemy; I am one of your most hated acquaintances of all time. I am not a nice man, no one desires my company or my time, and your attentions would be far more appreciated elsewhere! Be gone from my store, I have no use for the insincere ramblings of children.”

“I'm not insincere, I mean every word! I like you, Severus! Do you have any idea what that means? At first I just wanted to know about that memory. If you knew it was me or not. But now I find myself wanting to spend more time here, even if it is,” Harry fingered a box disdainfully, flipping the lid open and then closed to make his point; “organizing ingredients or shelving potions. I just…I like it here. With you. I like you .”

Severus' face was blank, the only expression visible being the slight frown at the corners of his mouth and the crease between his eyes. They stood there, staring at each other for what seemed like ages, before finally Severus answered, voice strained and clipped.

“I knew it was you. Before you even crashed into me, I knew it was you. Dumbledore told me where you would be, and I could feel your magical signature before you even became visible to view. Even at that age, you radiated power. I was only meant to observe, I was never supposed to let you see me. But you looked so pathetic, almost begging for attention, and I found it hard to turn away. You were not what I had expected. You should never have remembered; I cast a mild memory charm on you as you were running away. Clearly I should have cast one stronger.”

Severus turned around, waving his wand gracefully through the air. The door behind them clicked open and cold air rushed in. Neither of them felt the winter chill, to them the room was far too cold already.

“Please leave my store; I think we have had enough reminiscing for today.” Harry heard a small clicking noise as the sign on the door turned from ‘Open' to ‘Closed'. “I must tell the customers that the store is closing early; good day, Mr. Potter.”

Once he was gone, Severus could not help but notice that the air was so much colder and that the silence was deafening.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it! I'll just, I'll just go home now. Th-thank you for your help with Dudley, sir. Sorry for running into you, sir. I…” Harry rummaged through his pockets, looking for something to give as compensation. All he found was a piece of string and a pebble he had picked up and kept earlier because he had liked the smooth surface and the combination of colors within it. Holding out the rock, with a small amount of disappointment, he offered it to the man. “This is all I have, and I know it's not much, but please take it.” He almost thrust it into the man's hand, picking up his wrist and forcing it into the unmoving fingers.

Face flaming and body shaking in embarrassment Harry spun on his heel and began to run. After a short distance he turned around, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called out to the man who was still standing there, hand still held out with the pebble clutched lightly between his lifeless fingers.

“Thank you again, sir! I won't forget it! I hope I get to meet you again, sometime!”

And then he was gone.

Severus looked down at the pebble in his hand in surprise, eyes only now registering its existence. A hint of something indescribable flashed within his eyes before he closed his fingers tightly into a fist, holding the gift preciously for a moment before placing it delicately into his pocket. With a quick look around to assess his surroundings, he nodded once and disappeared with a faint ‘pop'. He had an appointment with Dumbledore soon about today and the boy, and while he winced at the thought of all that tea and sweets he would have to endure, he refused to be late.

Upon appearing at the gates, Severus put a hand over his pocket, giving in to a moment of foolishness as he decided that not all of what happened today needed to go into his report.

The next time he saw Harry Potter was four years later, and the boy had clearly forgotten their first meeting. It could have been the minor memory charm he had cast as the boy had dashed off, or it could have just been the forgetfulness of young boys, but either way Severus was determined to make sure that Harry did not remember that day again. He was determined to make the boy hate him with all of his might; the future of the Wizarding World depended on it. Severus depended on it.

As Harry was leaving the shop he noticed a small paperweight resting on Severus' desk, an empty quill leaning against its' edge as if forgotten. The paperweight was a small rock, composed of dull reds, deep greens, and a shade of bluish-gray. Harry smiled as he ran a finger over its surface – it was as smooth as glass. He remembered; more than he let Severus believe, but he still remembered – Some mysteries were best left for another time. The smile stayed strong as he walked out of the shop, a new bounce in his step. There was hope for him yet; he couldn't stop now. He whistled tunelessly as he began to devise another strategy for tomorrow. He'd make Severus see he was genuine in his emotions, even if it took all the potions stacking and ingredient labeling in the world.