Harry Potter had forgotten Severus Snape.

At least, this is what he told himself each day he awoke under a different sun than the one that shown down on London. His apprenticeship with Master Ailin was such that he hardly had the time to spare for his bleeding heart. There was research to be done, dangerous Dark creatures to pursue, and Dark Magic to learn how to reverse. Still, his thoughts always found the time. Most often, it was as he crawled into bed just as the sun pressed towards the horizon that his introspection wrung his heart free of its vestibules of darkness. But, under the burning gaze of Earth's brightest star, he could pretend that he had forgotten.

By the end of July, he almost believed it.

Harry was meeting with Hermione in Diagon Alley. This was only the second time Master Ailin had returned them home. Their latest adventure had depleted their supply of healing potions, and she'd wanted some time to relax with her husband while they waited for their completed order from the Apothecary. Harry, who was staying the week in Grimmauld, was responsible for collecting the order when it was finished. His days were filled mostly with corrective research that might prepare him for the next time they ran into a nest of rabid Thestrals, and he'd invited Hermione to come see him. A friendly face could only be a blessing.

They were enjoying lunch in the bustling hub between the magical and Muggle worlds when this small blessing reminded him that friendships could sometimes be a curse.

"Neville told me you broke up with him the last time you came home," Hermione said almost nonchalantly.

Harry scowled into his stew. It had been such a nice visit. "I'm not in the mood to be berated, 'Mione."

"I'm not berating," Hermione returned innocently. "But…you and Neville were such a nice couple. And he said you didn't really tell him why it wasn't working. You just said you were 'done pretending' and left."

"That is why, Hermione," Harry said, looking up at his best friend. "I'm actually surprised you never noticed. I was never invested in my relationship with Neville. He's a great friend, he really is, but that's all we'll ever be to each other. I just…I don't feel towards him the way he feels towards me, and I couldn't keep leading him on."

"Well, I suppose I never noticed because I wanted so badly for you two to work out," Hermione told him a little bashfully. "You were adorable together, and I'm a sucker for a nice romance. I don't understand why you led him on so long, though, if you knew you didn't feel the same."

Harry shrugged, pushing his food around his bowl. "Probably because I didn't know how I felt," He admitted. "I've never been in a serious relationship, so I never knew what I was supposed to feel. Neville is my friend, and I do find him physically attractive, so I thought that was enough. Now I know better, I know what I should've felt for him. As soon as I figured it out, I left him. It's not like I promised him forever, we both knew it had to end eventually."

"So…" Hermione hesitated. "Does that mean you found someone you do have feelings for?"

Harry glared at her over the table and she raised her hands in mock surrender.

"Okay, Harry, I won't pry. It's just…it's not Professor Achesan, is it?"

This surprised a chuckle out of the Wizarding Savior. "No, Hermione, I can honestly say I have no romantic feelings at all for Master Ailin. She's married, even if I was interested in the fairer sex. And, by the way, that is prying."

Hermione giggled. "I know, but I couldn't help myself."

They laughed together for a minute, and when their chuckles had tapered off, Harry felt better. He smiled at his friend, who stared back curiously.

"What?"

"I love you, Rabbit," Harry said softly. "You know that, don't you?"

Hermione nodded, rolling her eyes endearingly. "I know, Harry. I love you, too." She paused. "What do you say to a trip to Fortescue's after lunch? We haven't gone since last summer, and I'm feeling nostalgic. I'll buy you an ice cream for your birthday."

Harry grinned. "You have yourself a date, Miss Granger."

-Break-

When Harry returned to Grimmauld, where he was staying with Remus, he returned to find a pile of presents stacked in the library. With a long-suffering sigh, he called Kreacher to sort out the gifts from people he didn't know, and then set about the task of opening the relatively few from his friends. He took it as a sign of goodwill that Neville had sent him a book on dangerous plants he might encounter in his travels with his Master. Hermione sent a book that would help with his current research assignment.

Harry couldn't stop grinning over the other gifts he received. Kingsley and Tonks had sent him a wand-care kit and new leather calf holster; the twins had sent him their new line of gags; useful, they claimed, in distracting Dark Wizards. Dean and Ginny had apparently pooled together to buy him his own snitch, to keep his reflexes sharp. And, of course, Molly Weasley had sent her usual box full of delectable treats. Harry decided, upon opening the larger-than-normal package that, with a few days left in his time off, he would visit The Burrow before he left. It didn't even matter if Ron was there, he missed his surrogate family.

At the bottom of the pile from his friends, Harry discovered an unmarked package wrapped in simple, brown parcel paper and twine. He studied the box curiously turning it in his hands; it smelled nice, but this said nothing of its contents. Kreacher, who had taken a shine to having a "good" master without the portrait of Sirius' mum around to rile him, had been overly diligent in all things. Though Harry doubted the elf would have missed a package from someone unknown, he questioned the elf on principle.

"Wasn't from strangers," Kreacher insisted. "Came with an owl Kreacher recognized from when those nasty, Muggle-loving blood traitors was here."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Do you mean the Order?"

Kreacher grimaced, lowering his eyes. "Yes, Master Harry."

With that, the elf disappeared to go about his duties of house-keeping and Harry turned back to the package. At first, he couldn't think who from the Order would have sent him an unmarked package, but then he realized that he knew one man who was paranoid enough to leave his name off. He and the ex-Auror weren't exactly close, but it was more than possible that Kingsley or Tonks had mentioned his apprenticeship to the battered older wizard.

Shrugging, Harry ripped off the paper and twine. He lifted the lid on the box, and when he saw what was inside, a darkness settled over his heart. The clawing shadow snuck into the recesses of his chest, even as his heart began to thunder rapidly against his ribcage. It was not from Mad-Eye Moody. Harry swiped away a lone tear that trailed over his cheek, even as a small smile twisted the corners of his mouth. Inside the box, resting innocently on white tissue paper, was a bag of coffee beans and a blossoming black rose.

So much for forgetting.