Charming Memories

Snape had stalked into Dumbledore's office, scarcely pausing to spit out the password. Crabbe and Goyle stumbled nervously behind him, occasionally stepping on the back of the Professor's heels. They ascended the revolving staircase and popped out in front of Dumbledore's desk. The Headmaster seemed to be amusing himself by transfiguring sheaves of parchment into various types of flowers, which took root on top of his desk and began dancing what a Muggle might have recognized as the Electric Slide.

"Severus!" said Dumbledore, looking up and flicking his wand at the flowers, which returned to normal. Crabbe and Goyle looked somewhat disappointed. "Good afternoon, Vincent, and Greg," he said, nodding at the boys. "What brings you here, Severus?" He smiled mildly.

"It's Draco Malfoy," Snape said sourly, and related what had happened.

"I see," said Dumbledore, when he had finished. He stroked his beard thoughtfully for a few moments. "Vincent, Greg, you are excused from classes for the afternoon. You may return to your quarters." Return to their quarters?! Snape gaped at the Headmaster in outrage.

"Albus, I don't think you understand--" he spluttered.

"Don't worry, Severus," said Dumbledore, waving a hand dismissively. Crabbe and Goyle scampered down the stairs, probably eager to get back to doing... it didn't bear thinking about.

"Albus, you do realise--"

"Relax, Severus. We have no right to interfere in their--ahem--romance." Snape could swear his eyes were twinkling. Twinkling, dammit!

Snape emitted a series of choking noises.

"Would you like some tea?" Dumbledore summoned a hideous flowered pot. Snape nodded mutely, lowering himself into a chair with hands that gripped the armrests so hard he thought they might snap. He snatched the cup that Dumbledore offered him and clutched it sullenly.

Dumbledore sipped his tea in a thoroughly unhurried sort of way while Snape sat stiffly. "I think what we ought to do," began the Headmaster, "is to have Malfoy examined by Poppy and Filius, to see what state his mind is in, and to decide the best course of action. I understand your Anti-Obliviate charm seems to have restored him more or less to normal?"

"Yes," breathed Snape.

"Hmm." Dumbledore levitated the teapot, and watched it swerve lazily about the room. Snape was glad he was familiar enough with Dumbledore's ways to realize that the wizard was deep in thought, and not merely wasting time; otherwise he would have felt inclined to throw a fit. That still seemed like an appealing idea.

"I don't think we need inform the boy's parents, at least not at the moment." Snape nodded, relaxing slightly. "I have always been of the opinion that it is far better to face one's fears than to hide from them--and therefore I think the best thing, in the long run, would be for young Malfoy to come to terms with his friends' relationship." Snape opened his mouth to disagree.

"However," Dumbledore continued, raising a hand to placate him, "he may be unable to cope with the situation immediately, and would likely try again to alter his memory, doing damage to himself in the process. Memory Charms are tricky even for Obliviators, as you know." Dumbledore guided the teapot over the desk, and tipped it so that a trickle of tea refilled his cup.

"In the meantime, all three of the boys should be separated from one another. Draco is in too fragile a state to continue rooming with his friends, and the knowledge that Vincent and Gregory were still sharing quarters would no doubt plague his mind. His bed will be replaced, and he can use a school broom."

"The school only has Cleansweeps! We'd be mauled in the Quidditch matches!" Dammit, the old bastard's eyes were twinkling again!

"I am sure Lucius Malfoy would not hesitate to replace his son's broom with another Nimbus 2001, or even a newer model." Snape glared silently at his lap. Dammit.

"Draco will be kept under careful observation, and warned of the dangers of attempting another memory alteration. Additionally, I recommend he see the School Counselor, to come to terms with what he saw."

Snape groaned. "Professor" Hugo Feely, an American wizard (and recent émigré to London), author of numerous Self-Help books, had joined the Hogwarts staff this year. At the staff meeting that summer, Dumbledore had told all the professors about advancements in Muggle therapeutic techniques, which he said allowed Muggles to deal with stressful situations in a healthy way.

"Because of increasing fear of the return of Voldemort--fear that is completely justified--and because of the shock and sorrow we at Hogwarts have all endured in the wake of Cedric Diggory's tragic death, I expect that the next year will be a difficult one for our Academy." Dumbledore then went into a brief segue about Muggle therapists. Snape had wondered what the hell he was talking about, and found out all too soon.

"It is my hope that Professor Hugo Feely will assist students and faculty alike, helping us all to cope with our anxieties and grief in a way that helps us to grow as individuals," (Snape felt rather ill at this point), "and to gather strength for the difficult times ahead, rather than allowing that anxiety and grief to cloud our minds and weaken our resolve." Dumbledore then rose from his chair, and gestured to a smiling wizard seated amongst them. "Please give Hugo a warm welcome!"

So that's who the git in the loud, fuzzy sweater had been. Snape had been afraid of that. He was rather hoping that Dumbledore had brought along a daft grand-nephew, and would send him off to the kitchens for some snacks before they began to discuss any privileged information.

Hugo Feely stood up, and threw his arms wide in a gesture of pleased acceptance, grinning warmly. "Everyone, it is my honor, and my pleasure, to meet you! I've heard so many wonderful things from Albus about each and every one of you! I'm looking forward so much to working with you all!" His face was just shining with friendliness and goodwill. It was disgusting. He went forward and hugged Dumbledore, who rocked back slightly at the enthusiasm of his embrace, but patted his back benevolently and smiled. Then he began to proceed around the room. He intended to hug all of them! Severus sprung up from his seat as though it had been transfigured into a needle.

"You must be Severus!" Feely exclaimed, taking Snape's rise as a sign that he wanted to greet him. He strode towards him, arms outstretched. No!

"Um. I'm sick," Snape muttered quickly, backing away.

"Awww, that's all right! I'm sure ol' Poppy here can fix both of us up in a jiffy!"

"No, really," said Snape, coughing hastily. "Wouldn't want you to catch it."

"That's so considerate! Thank you, Severus, that was very nice!" Thankfully, the man now turned towards the other professors. Snape saw Dumbledore watching him with ill-disguised amusement. His blue eyes just twinkling away. Bastard. McGonagall, naturally, was hardly bothering to suppress her smirk at his extremely out of character "consideration." Sprout tittered, Vector and Sinistra were too busy backing away themselves to care, Trelawney was looking at Feely through her huge mosquito glasses with what looked like... Oh God, she fancied him. Hagrid looked like he was about to make some sort of loud remark about Snape, but was thankfully cut short when Feely tackled him about the waist.

"Rubeus, you're just a big cuddly teddybear, aren't you?" Feely exclaimed.

"Erm... I dunno abou' that," said Hagrid, looking rather embarrassed and trying to detach the man from the front of his shirt. Snape shot a pointed smirk in his direction.

From what Snape heard, Feely was managing to help the students somewhat. Some of them, especially the Slytherins, seemed as disdainful of the idea of "therapy" as he was, but many students went to him to discuss everything from Voldemort to their latest crush.

"I feel like Hugo really cares about my problems," he had overheard a Ravenclaw girl saying to her friends, and they had nodded in agreement. "If only other men were such good listeners!" They giggled, and Snape felt queasy.

Even if Feely had gained the allegiance of many of the students, Snape somehow doubted that Draco Malfoy would want to "open up" and "share his feelings," as Feely would put it. It would hardly help that therapy was a Muggle practice, though Feely augmented it with magic. Empathy Charms, Relaxation Potions (Snape reluctantly supplied Feely with some of the more complicated potions, though Feely was competent at brewing the more basic and common ones needed for his practice), magical plants... Feely was cross-disciplinary, even using Transfiguration to help his clients "explore other perspectives. Feel what it's like to truly be another type of person." Feely would be the one to Transfigure his client, and sometimes himself, for their "role-playing sessions."

Professor McGonagall had been extremely nervous about this. She was not convinced that Feely was skilled enough in Transfiguration to routinely perform complicated switches on humans, though she admitted that the implications of using Transfiguration for therapy were interesting.

"Helpful though it may be, Hugo, even I would feel uncomfortable performing frequent Transfigurations on students, and I have far more experience than you!" she had argued once. But Dumbledore remained unruffled, and was convinced that any mishaps could be corrected. Feely claimed he was fully licensed to use Transfiguration in his practice, and had plenty of experience.

"Hugo, you're the Head Advisor to the Magical Therapy Bureau, which you co-founded!" McGonagall pointed out. Feely obstinately persisted in failing to see her point.

And now, Dumbledore was suggesting that Draco pour out his heart to this man?! Snape knew very well that Dumbledore possessed one of the finest minds of any wizard living, and his powers of discernment were unsurpassed. Despite jibes and murmurs that the Headmaster had long ago lost his marbles, Snape knew that Dumbledore's eccentricities and gentle manners disguised a shrewd and extremely sagacious mind. So why in God's name did he even suggest that Malfoy go to therapy?! If Lucius heard about it, he'd try to pull Draco from school and fire Dumbledore, with little regard to his recent loss of position in the Ministry.

Snape gave Dumbledore every argument he could think of, plus a few more he pulled out of his arse while he was talking. He knew Dumbledore well enough to realize that the old man would know exactly which points had some merit, and which points were bullshit Snape had just made up, but he didn't care. Anything, to make Dumbledore see the sheer ridiculousness of what he was proposing. Dumbledore listened patiently to it all, until Snape could think of nothing else to say, and began repeating himself. He lifted a hand, and Snape fell silent.

"I am well aware you have little faith in Feely, Severus," said Dumbledore. Snape opened his mouth to vehemently affirm this, plus some, but the Headmaster raised his hand for silence again. "However, I think that Draco should give it a try. It may be exactly what he needs." His eyes were twinkling. Of course.

Snape sighed. There was no way out of it. He only hoped Lucius didn't find out. On second thought, maybe he hoped Lucius did find out, and enlisted Feely's help in the testing of all sorts of new and innovative hexes.