Chapter 13: Another Year or Two

     Someone was speaking. Although, what that someone was saying sounded like a whole lot of unintelligible gibberish to Harry, who was only vaguely aware that he was indeed conscious and not having a bizarre, only slightly lucid dream. As the minutes passed and the muzzy feeling in his head slowly began to thin and fade away, Harry realized that he was lying in a heap on the floor. The reason why he was lying there, however, remained lost in the haze of disorientation that was clouding his mind. Deciding that perhaps resuming full consciousness was not in his best interest at the current time, Harry patiently laid there and listened to the voice speaking, not understanding a word of it, and yet feeling oddly at ease for reasons that remained as mysterious to him as the meaning of the words themselves.

     Moments later, when he was alert enough to recognize that the cause of the darkness he found himself in was due to the fact that he not yet opened his eyes, instead of his original assumption that he was lying in a room that no one had bothered to turn the lights on in, Harry mustered as much energy as he could to complete the seemingly impossible task of forcing his eyelids to rise. Harry’s reward for accomplishing this was not what he had been anticipating: rather than finding answers to his questions of where he was and what was going on, all he got for his trouble was a stab of pain when the light hit his eyes and an intense feeling of nausea as the room began to spin wildly around. Stifling a groan, Harry closed his eyes and waited for the vertigo to pass. It was as he was lying there, trying to regain some sense of equilibrium, that the words being spoken finally resolved themselves into a language that Harry could understand.

     “…wish I knew why, but I cannot go back and ask you, can I? The answers that I have always wanted, you have managed to take with you,” the voice stopped talking then, pausing to laugh bitterly. After a moment, it continued, “This world is safer without you. Yet I cannot help but wonder if it would make you happy to know that now, it is also less exciting.”

     The disorientation finally lifted completely as Harry identified the owner of the voice. Severus. Along with that recognition came the memory of what had transpired, moments before Harry had lost consciousness. Harry’s eyes flew open of their own accord, his anxious curiosity to know what happened overriding the pain and nausea long enough for him to pull himself up into a sitting position. The resulting noise he made sitting up, combined with the inevitable groan that escaped him as his body protested movement, caused Severus, who had been standing with his back to Harry a few feet away, to whirl around.

     “How are you feeling?”

     Harry blinked at him in confusion. How am I feeling? How are you feeling? Conversation, muddled as he still was, seemed like too great of a feat for him at the moment. Shouldn’t I be dead?

     Severus stared at him a minute, as if waiting for a response, before shaking his head impatiently and walking over to where Harry was sitting, propped up against the wall. Harry couldn’t help flinching when Severus pointed his wand at him, half expecting the other man to finish off the job that Lucius had started and obviously did not complete. “Are you injured? I can heal you if you are.”

     “I…no, I’m not injured,” Harry answered, gaping up at Severus in disbelief.

     “Kindly stop gawking and get up if you are not hurt,” Severus snapped irritably.

     “Are you really you?” the words burst out of Harry of their own volition, sounding incredibly stupid even to him.

     “While there are any number of snide remarks that I could make to such an idiotic inquiry,” Severus muttered, scowling at him, “I will excuse your lack of eloquence on account of the circumstances. Yes, Harry, I am in complete control of myself. No, I am not, nor was I ever at any point today, under the Imperius Curse.”    

     “But-”

     “Get up, Potter,” Severus demanded. “I do not know how long we will have until the Muggle authorities arrive. And the last thing we need right now is to be found in here, standing over the body of a dead man.”

     At those words, Harry noticed that the room was empty. All of the Muggles who had been sitting in the seats were gone. With the exception of Lucius’ body, which Harry could see lying on the floor behind Severus, he and Severus were alone in the theater.

     “What happened to everyone?” Harry asked, looking back up at Severus.

     “I will explain everything to you when we are safely away from this place,” Severus responded, appearing as if he were going to haul Harry to his feet himself soon, if Harry didn’t cooperate. “Now get up.”

     Getting to his feet was a shaky process that Harry managed to complete only by bracing himself against the wall and using that for support. Although Harry was telling the truth when he said that he hadn’t sustained any type of injury, the adrenalin that had been coursing through his veins during the exchange with Lucius had left his body in a rather unsteady state. Once the laborious task was finished, with Harry leaning against the wall to take his weight off of his trembling legs, his focus shifted back to Severus.

     “I’m up,” stated Harry, scowling at Severus. “I might be down again if I step away from the wall. But I’m up for now.”

     “For your sake, I hope you are not in need of holding my hand,” Severus replied sarcastically. “Because you and I are going our separate ways for the moment.”

     “What?”

     “Has your hearing been damaged in some way that you have neglected to inform me about?” Severus snapped shortly. “As I have already told you, we need to vacate this theater. We have tarried here long enough, while you recuperated from banging your head on the floor.”

     I ought to start wearing a helmet, Harry thought inanely, fighting down the urge to start laughing. Somehow, he had the feeling that if he started, he wasn’t going to be able to stop any time soon. You’re cracking up, Harry. Get yourself together and figure out what’s going on. Then you can fall apart, once you’re completely sure that Severus is free of the Imperius Curse. There was something that was nagging at the back of Harry’s mind, something that was demanding he not forget it. It was just such a shame that whatever it was wasn’t identifying itself to Harry.

     “All right,” Harry told Severus. “Just give me a moment.”

     “We have wasted enough moments already, standing here arguing over this,” was the annoyed response.

     “Are we just going to walk out then? ‘Oh no, officer. It only looks like we’re coming from the theater.’ Yeah, that’ll sure be convincingly innocent.”

     “You are a wizard, however often you choose to blatantly ignore that fact,” Severus replied caustically. “Apparate to your room. When I went there to retrieve the invisibility cloak, I made sure to lock the door, in the event that we would actually survive the day. That way, we could safely Apparate back, without the possibility of your friends walking in and witnessing it.”

     Harry could almost see a veritable light bulb turning on in front of him. “I’m not leaving without my cloak,” he stated suddenly.

     Severus waved a hand dismissively. “You are entirely too predictable, Mister Potter. Your beloved cloak is right there, waiting for you.” He pointed to a folded up square of silvery cloth, lying a few feet away from where Harry was standing. The sight of the cloak reminded him of something else.

     “Or my backpack,” he added obstinately. “I left it outside when I came in. If someone sees it and goes through it, there are enough folders and notebooks in there with my name on it to-”

     “Yes, yes. Fine.” Without waiting for Harry to finish his protest, Severus turned and walked over to the door. He paused there, listening, before marginally opening the door and looking out cautiously. Then he slipped through the open door, leaving Harry standing in the theater with nothing but Lucius’ body for company.

     It was morbid fascination that caused Harry to stare down at Lucius. He couldn’t help wondering if the Avada Kedavra curse had bounced harmlessly off of him and struck Lucius instead. It was as if Lucius was sleeping: his body was unmarked, his eyes were closed, and the lines of arrogance and hatred in his face had smoothed away during death. Strange. He doesn’t seem quite as dangerous like this, Harry observed. He looks harmless, almost peaceful. I wonder if this is how he looked when he and Severus were friends, before he became a Death Eater. The words that Severus had been speaking before he had woken up fully came back to Harry then. What happened between you and Severus, Lucius? What are those answers he was talking about when he thought I couldn’t hear him? What did you do to him? Lucius was beyond providing Harry with any answers, however, and before he could consider the matter further, the door to the theater opened again, admitting Severus and Harry’s backpack.

     “Here, is this everything now? Or did you manage to bring the entire contents of your room with you?” Severus asked, stooping down to pick up the invisibility cloak before thrusting both the backpack and the cloak at Harry, who only wobbled a little when he took the objects from Severus.

     “No, that’s all of it,” Harry answered, ignoring Severus’ irritated glare.

     “Good. Now, Apparate back to the room and wait for me there,” Severus instructed Harry. “I will answer any questions you have about what occurred today when I return.”

     “Where are you going?” asked Harry instinctively, before he could think better of doing so.

     There was a flicker of sadness in Severus’ eyes that passed so quickly Harry almost thought he was imagining it. Almost. “There are certain matters that I must take care of. Promises that cannot be broken,” he answered softly.

     “Okay,” Harry agreed, understanding what Severus was saying, and what he was not. “I’ll see you back at the room then.”

     Harry was readjusting his grip on his belongings in anticipation of Apparition, when Severus stopped him. “Harry.”

     Harry paused, looking up at Severus curiously.

     “Are you certain that you are all right?” asked Severus, the usual sarcasm absent from his voice. In fact, much to Harry’s surprise, it actually sounded as if he were concerned about Harry. “You will be able to Apparate successfully? I know that it has been quite a few years since you have done it, and it wasn’t very long after you passed your tests to do so that you confronted Voldemort and lost your memory. To go through all of this, only to end up splinched…” Severus trailed off, studying Harry closely, as if gauging just how capable he was of performing the difficult spell.

     It was on the tip of Harry’s tongue to make some kind of sarcastic remark, much the same way Severus always did whenever Harry asked him something serious - He must be rubbing off on me. – yet, hearing true concern in Severus’ voice was such a rare occurrence that Harry was hesitant to say anything that might ruin it. “Yes,” he finally replied, after thinking it over carefully. “I can do it. Don’t worry.”

     Apparently, that last bit was the wrong thing to say. Severus snorted and rolled his eyes. “You overestimate your importance, Mister Potter, if you think that I would expend the effect necessary to actually worry about you.”

     Had Severus said that to him before the last few months had happened, Harry probably would have been hurt by such a comment, feeling as if he had grossly misjudged the entire situation. But now, after all that they had gone through together, Harry knew the comment for what it was. And so the walls go up again. You’re slipping Severus. One of these days, you’re going to make a mistake, and everyone will know that you really have got feelings in there somewhere. “We can debate my importance later. As you said, we’re short on time. Be prepared to talk, I have a rather large selection of questions for you,” Harry responded easily.

     Severus merely nodded, standing exactly where he was. Harry knew, without really having any evidence to prove it, that Severus was waiting until he Apparated away, to make sure that he really was all right. Knowing that to dally any longer would only result in having to deal with an irate Severus later, Harry initiated the Apparition, leaving Severus, the theater, and Lucius’ body behind.

*   *   *

     That was one promise I did not believe I would ever fulfill, Severus thought, Apparating away from the one place he had never expected to return to, and never would again, for as long as he lived. Farewell Lucius. Our past is truly dead now. May it find some manner of peace. And you as well.

     As he was beginning to Apparate, something suddenly occurred to him. Before Harry had left, Severus knew that he had not said anything about keeping all of Harry’s friends away from the room until he had also Apparated back. There was about a second’s worth of time for Severus to worry about whether or not he was about to appear out of thin air into a room full of Harry’s friends, before he was there. Luckily for him, the room only contained Harry Potter, who was sitting at his desk in front of the computer. Severus breathed a sigh of relief. He had determined, on his way back to the dorm room, that if he were going to be casting any more Memory Charms today, the charms were only going to be on himself.

     Harry turned around when Severus appeared, looking calm and far more in control of his faculties than he had been upon waking up in the theater. Severus was uncertain whether or not this was a good thing. He knew that Harry was going to have a lot of questions for him, and the fact that Harry was no longer disoriented meant that in addition to actually making sense when he talked, he was going to be a lot more perceptive. Severus could only hope that Harry would not be perceptive enough to ask any questions that Severus was going to be damned if he would be answering.

     “Are you okay?” Harry asked, peering at him intently.

     It is going to be one of these, I see. “Of course I am all right,” Severus snapped irritably. Perhaps if he were nasty enough, Harry would be unable to think to ask him anything…awkward. It was worth a shot, at any rate. “You must be under the delusion that I am one of your brainless friends if you think that I am going to break down and weep over the death of a madman.”

     Harry just looked at him a moment more before nodding. Whether that easy acquiescence was a good thing or a bad thing was indeterminable at that point. “So what happened?” asked Harry finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between them after Severus’ last comment.

     “Starting from when I left you in the hallway?” Severus asked, sitting down on the bed next to Harry’s desk.

     “I think I’ve got that part figured out,” Harry answered. “The plan was to go get the invisibility cloak so that you could pretend that you had taken his invitation to escape, in an effort to throw him off, right?”

     The conspicuous lack of using Lucius’ name did not go undetected by Severus, who felt that perhaps Harry did not believe him when he said that he was perfectly fine. Making a mental note to drive that point home, Severus nodded. “Essentially yes. I had hoped that I could apprehend Lucius, take him to the Ministry, and let them sort it all out. I had been expecting him to talk to you; Lucius always was partial to melodrama. I did not, however, expect him to use the Cruciatus Curse on you. You have my apologies for that. I should have acted immediately, instead of allowing him that opportunity.”

     Harry shrugged it aside. “It isn’t something I’ve never experienced before. I think that one of Voldemort’s favorite pastimes was seeing how long he could subject me to it before someone interrupted him.”

     “That is not the point.” For once in my life I actually apologize for something and he completely ignores me.

     “It’s over, I’m fine,” Harry replied, changing the subject. “What happened with the Imperius Curse? I thought that…”

     Severus shook his head. “Under Voldemort, I was subjected to many things, one of which was the Imperius Curse. He liked to keep us in line: when he felt that we were straying, or when he was disappointed in our behavior, he was not afraid to punish us. Repeated exposure to some of the more…interesting…curses has taught me the precise manner in which they affect those unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end. After that, it was rather easy to pretend.”

     “But wouldn’t Lucius remember that? He was a Death Eater, so the same thing probably happened to him on more than one occasion. Why didn’t he know you were faking it? How did you manage to do that in the first place? Lucius was powerful in the Dark Arts.”

     “I knew Lucius very well,” Severus explained clinically, his voice betraying no hint of how he felt about any of it. “He was fundamentally the same today as he was over two decades ago. And if he had one major personality flaw besides being drawn to the Dark Arts and Voldemort, it was that he had a tendency to believe something because he wanted to, regardless of whether or not what he believed was the truth.

     “Lucius wanted to believe that I was under his control. Because I acted as if I were, because I acted the way he wanted me to, he believed it. He relied a bit too heavily on select portions of the past, disregarding everything else. That is the problem with belief, Harry. It distorts reality for you to the point where it is not so much what is truly there as it is what you wish to see,” Severus said quietly. “And that is a very dangerous thing.”

     “Did he just cast the spell badly?” Harry asked, looking as though he felt there was something beneath all of this that he needed to know, but having no idea what it could possibly be. It was a perceptive look that made Severus just a little uneasy. “Was that how you were able to fight it off?”

     “Oh no. Lucius was very accomplished at using the Dark Arts. It was almost second nature for him to do so,” Severus replied in an offhand manner totally at odds with the gravity of what had just occurred. “The spell was correct, as powerful as any spell that Lucius has ever cast,” he laughed softly, under his breath. “But the problem was, that while the Dark Arts were almost second nature for him, they have always been second nature to me.”

     “What?” Harry asked, looking startled.

     “Yes. That was why Voldemort wanted me. Not only was I incredibly skilled at something a large portion of the wizarding population has trouble with, I was also amazingly proficient at using the Dark Arts,” Severus smiled ironically. “I was not that very adept at the more beneficent, healing sort, but the Dark Arts were never a source of difficulty. So no, all things considered, it was incredibly easy for me to avoid being placed under the spell’s control.” It was true, what Severus was saying. And if he summed a lot of things up under the general heading of ‘all things considered’, things that Harry probably would have been terribly interested to know about, Severus felt that he really couldn’t be blamed for it. After all, some things, regardless of whether or not they actually were Harry’s business, were really none of Harry’s business.

     Were he anyone other than who he was, Severus would have thanked Harry for the things that Harry had said in his defense, when Harry thought that he was under Lucius’ control. It had been a shock to Severus to hear Harry, of all people, stand up for him. And although it pained him to admit it, he was grateful for that. At the time, it had been everything Severus had not to smirk a bit smugly at Lucius, who had probably been expecting Harry not to care at all about what happened to Severus. However, that gratitude was something he could never bring himself to express to Harry. There was something entirely too personal, too open, about doing so. Severus’ pride would never allow him to thank Harry for that surprising loyalty, but privately, Severus could be just a tad proud of him, even if he would never be able to tell Harry how much it had meant to him.

     “And Avada Kedavra?” Harry was asking, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Severus had been lost in thought. “How did…” here he trailed off, looking uncomfortable, as if afraid that to say anything about Lucius’ death would automatically mean upsetting Severus.

     “Why was Lucius killed instead of you?” Severus asked bluntly.

     Harry nodded. “I can remember hearing your voice, just before I blacked out. Although, why I blacked out doesn’t make any sense either.”

     “His trust that I was under his control was his downfall. While he was distracted with the casting of the spell, I merely override his control of it and turned it back on him,” Severus shrugged, as if it wasn’t that important of a matter. “At that point, he had no chance of deflecting it.

     “As to why you blacked out, the spells that he had cast and was maintaining, including the one that was keeping you held up against the wall, were ended the moment he died. Unfortunately for you, the spell keeping the Muggles frozen and silent ended at that point as well, and I had my hands full dealing with them. Otherwise, I would have caught you before you fell. When you hit your head on the floor, the blow knocked you unconscious. Undoubtedly, it was due the fact that your head had taken two rather hard blows already. Coupled with the stress you were being subjected to, your mind probably just got fed up with it all and decided to take a break.”

     Harry mulled the information over for a bit before nodding in acceptance. “What happened to the Muggles?”

     “I cast a few Memory Charms on them before they managed to stampede their way out of the theater,” Severus explained. “It was a bit more complicated than usual, since I could not just blank their minds completely. Others would have noticed their absence, and losing a rather large chunk of time would have caused more problems in the long run than just subtly altering what they believed that they saw.”

     Harry looked at him suspiciously. “What did you do to them?”

     Severus affected an insulted attitude. “Why do you naturally assume that I did something bad to them?”

     “Because you’re you.”

     “You’ve finally figured that out? Bravo,” commented Severus snidely.

     “Oh shut up.”

     A few minutes of silence passed before Harry finally threw up his hands in disgust. “Well, are you going to tell me what you did to them or not?”

     Severus raised an eyebrow curiously. “I am afraid that you are contradicting yourself again. Do you want me to keep quiet or do you want me to finish explaining what happened? All of these mixed signals are not clearing the matter up for me.”

     Severus was amused to see a muscle twitch under Harry’s eye. “Keep talking,” Harry ground out through gritted teeth, looking as if nothing would please him more than to smack Severus.

     “They are under the impression that a man with a gun was holding them all hostage, and that another student, whom they are all unable to remember, wrestled the gun away from him, knocked him unconscious, and told them to go get help,” Severus said seriously. “Hopefully the other Muggles will attribute their collective confusion as some form of traumatic experience and eventually drop it.”

     “Why that scenario?” Harry asked.

     “It was the closest to the truth. And I figured that you would not want another collection of people following you around, subjecting you to yet another wave of hero worship.”

     “Me? What are you talking about?”

     Severus shrugged. “I know that you are tired of the wizarding world thinking of you as their savior. I just assumed that you would want to retain some level of anonymity here as well, without having to deal with the assorted fan groupings.”

     Harry was shaking his head. “But I didn’t do anything. You were the one who saved those people. You’re the hero, not me. If you hadn’t killed Lucius, he would have killed them after he was finished with me. All I did was hang on the wall.”

     Severus looked him in the eyes, wondering if Harry really was unaware of the role he played in saving the lives of the Muggles. “I did very little today,” Severus responded. “It was you who saved us all.”

     “I don’t believe that. How did I save anyone?” Harry asked in disbelief.

     “Just because you do not believe it, does not mean that it is not true,” Severus replied. “Were it not for you, Lucius would have murdered all of those Muggles, I would be nothing more than his unwitting slave, and you would be lying dead, nothing more than a symbol of his power.”

     “What?” Harry asked for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour. “That doesn’t make any sense at all. You just got finished telling me how you were never under his control, how easy it was for you to break the Imperius Curse. Now you’re telling me you would have been his slave? You’re not making any sense at all.”

     Severus smiled wryly. “No, Harry. I am making perfect sense.” It would be easier to explain it to you, of that I have no doubt. Then you would understand precisely why the Imperius Curse failed. But I find that that is something that I cannot do. You do not need to know what the curse urging me to do. You do not need to know why it was impossible for me to comply. Harry was looking at him as if he were insane. “You are just going to have to trust me here, Harry. You’ve done it once or twice before. Once more cannot possibly hurt.”

     Harry scowled. “That’s right up there with the whole ‘what else can go wrong’ comment. Whenever someone says that something can’t possibly hurt or get worse, it invariably does.”

     “Superstition does not become you, Mister Potter.”

     “Being deliberately obtuse does not become you either, no matter how much you wish it would,” Harry shot back.

     Severus smirked at him. Yes, Harry was definitely getting better at standing up for himself. You will be what the wizarding world needs soon, Harry. You will be the man they can turn to in their times of need. You will be strong enough to face anything. And what’s more, you will know that you are.

     Severus couldn’t help feeling just the slightest bit of satisfaction. His job at the university was done. Harry had his memory back, he was safe, and Lucius was dead. Now Severus could return to Hogwarts, go back down into his dungeons, and lock himself in his rooms for however long he needed to come to terms with everything that had transpired since he had arrived in New York. He knew that in some cases, it would take quite a while until he was completely reconciled with some of the things that had happened, and some of the things that he had learned.

     Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing. “You can go back now, can’t you? Your job is done.”

     Was it Severus’ imagination or did Harry sound just a little unhappy about that? Sitting there, Severus felt a tingle of regret at the thought of leaving. They were not the best of friends. He doubted that they would ever be. But they could actually hold a real conversation now. And Severus found that, as much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed those conversations. There were very few people who would bother to expend the effort needed to talk to him, who would take the time to try and sift through the myriad of insults he was more than willing to subject them to in an effort to pro-… keep them from bothering him.

     It didn’t take an excess of intelligence to know that the loose alliance that existed between him and Harry would dissolve when they parted. He would return to Hogwarts, and perhaps later Harry would come by to visit Granger, Weasley, and whatever other friends he had left there. And if he crossed Severus’ path during that time, the animosity would be back. Severus wasn’t enough of a fool to think that the uneasy friendship they had at the university would extend to Hogwarts, where once again Harry would be surrounded by a slew of admirers and friends.

     “I imagine that Granger will be more than happy to relinquish her control of my class,” Severus said, opting for something easier, more impersonal, to say than what he was really thinking. “By now, she should have come to the realization that teaching a subject as precise as Potions to a group of first years is not only impossible, but highly aggravating.”

     “Say hello to her for me, will you?” Harry asked. “Let her know that I miss her.”

     “You could leave this place,” Severus suggested, “and tell her yourself.”

     “I’ve only got one more year left,” Harry objected. “It would be too much of a waste, to just leave now. A Muggle degree doesn’t mean much in the wizarding world, I know. But it means something to me to have completed it. Besides, who knows what I’ll end up doing with my life. It’s always good to have a backup plan, even if I don’t know what it is,” he added as an afterthought. “Plus, my friends would wonder what happened to me if I just disappeared now. I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I just abandoned them without saying goodbye.”

     “When you are finished at this place, you should go to Hogwarts. I know that your friends there will be anxious to see you again,” Severus advised him, blatantly ignoring the minute twinge of disappointment he felt at hearing that Harry refused to leave the university. “You’ll probably want to write to them sometime soon. I will tell Albus what happened, naturally. But I am sure that your friends will want to hear from you personally, telling them what happened and that you are all right.”

     “Wait, are you going to leave right now?” Harry asked, getting halfway out of his chair before the words were even out of his mouth.

     Severus shrugged indifferently. “I might as well. Albus will know, of course, that Lucius is dead. But even he is only so patient when waiting for a report, especially where you are concerned. It is far more practical to give him that report in person, as I have no true reason to remain here any longer.”

     “Oh,” Harry said, sinking back down into his chair and sounding, although Severus could not conceive of why, as though he were attempting, and failing miserably, not to appear dejected in front of his audience. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You’re probably looking forward to playing with your potions again.”

     Severus scowled at him. “I do not ‘play’ with my potions. You do not hear me speaking of you fooling around with your broomstick, do you? You have your hobbies, I have mine.”

     Harry laughed, though it was a more subdued laugh than what Severus had become used to while dealing with Harry. Is it possible that he really will miss me? Severus pondered, before dismissing the notion entirely. I believe that it is you now, Severus, who is thinking too highly of your own importance. It has been an…interesting…couple of months. Just leave it at that and go home, where you really belong.

     Deciding that standing around, further debating when he should be leaving would accomplish nothing, Severus set about packing up his meager belongings. This was not me anyway, he thought, throwing a pair of leather pants into his duffle bag. It will do me a great deal of good to be back where I can truly be myself. Instead of pretending to be…whatever it was I have been pretending these past weeks.

     “What should I say to Kevin, Ben, and Cate when they ask about you?” Harry inquired, when Severus was packed and ready to Apparate back to Hogwarts.

     “Whatever you want. If it would be easier, tell them that I died in the fire, before the Muggles arrived to put it out,” Severus suggested, not caring either way. “I cannot imagine that it will much matter, what you tell them. Albus will take care of the details with the school, so you will not need to explain my absence to anyone else.”

     “It’s going to be strange here, with you gone,” Harry said quietly.

     “You will grow accustomed to it, much as you did when I arrived,” Severus offered, not knowing what else to say to him, since he really didn’t know what Harry meant in the first place. “After all, you will finally have your room back.”

     “It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Harry admitted slowly, “having a roommate. It’s actually been kind of fun.”

     “Perhaps you can request another one? One who is more your age, and who has similar interests?”

     Harry studied him in silence for a moment, before shrugging. “I guess.”

     “I ought to be going now,” Severus said, adjusting the shoulder strap on his duffle bag, which was beginning to cut off the circulation to his arm. “Good luck, by the way, on your next year. I am sure you will do fine, if this year has been any indication. Goodbye, Harry Potter.”

     Severus was never much for sentimentality or long drawn out farewells. He had taken care of everything else and said what he felt needed to be said. That was enough. Gathering his concentration about him, Severus was about to Apparate when Harry blurted out, “You could stay!”

     Concentration shattered, Severus looked at him in bewilderment. “What?”

     “Stay here,” Harry explained, waving his hand around emphatically. “It is only another year, after all. And you said that Hermione’s teaching Potions. I’m sure that Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t mind if you stayed. He’d probably like it actually. I mean, I have just gotten my memory back. Who knows if Lucius had any underlings that might want to avenge him? Hell, maybe Draco is going to be out for my blood now that his father is dead. Professor Dumbledore would probably want you to stay and protect me until I am able to leave and come to Hogwarts with you,” he finished in a rush.

     Of all the things that Harry could have said to him, this was something that Severus had not been expecting. Staying there, in a city full of Muggles, being forced to live in a tiny room in a building packed with Muggles, had never once been a consideration of Severus’. He wanted to leave. Get away from them all and go back to the normalcy of his role as teacher to-the greatest group of dunderheads that Hogwarts has yet seen, Severus realized in disgust. Going back would mean more furtive, suspicious looks when the students didn’t think that he was watching; more dancing around Albus’ well meaning, but highly obnoxious, interference in his life. And while it would be incredibly satisfying to confront Albus about whatever happened that made the headmaster alter his memory against his permission, Severus also could not ignore that small glimmer of hope that had sparked to life when Harry had prevented his leaving. What precisely that glimmer was hoping for, Severus didn’t know, and outright refused to explore.

     “You want me to stay?” he asked Harry carefully, thinking that perhaps Harry didn’t really know what he was talking about.

     “Why not? I mean, on one hand, it will be much easier for everyone,” Harry brightened to the topic when he saw that Severus wasn’t leaving yet.

     “I fail to see how staying here is easy for everyone.”

     “Look at it this way. If you stay, Professor Dumbledore doesn’t need to meddle with the college, making excuses for your absence and all. I won’t have to make up some ridiculous story about where you’ve gone and why I’m not the least bit concerned to my friends. And you won’t have to go back to teaching right in the middle of a term,” Harry said, laying the persuasiveness on thick. “Besides, you could get a college degree.”

     “What would I possibly want or need with a degree from a Muggle college?”

     Harry looked at him blankly; obviously having no idea what Severus would do with a Muggle degree. “Uh…well…”

     “Precisely. Nothing,” said Severus succinctly.

     For the briefest of seconds, Harry looked crestfallen. Then the expression melted into one of inspiration. “There’s always the countless opportunities you’ll have to make fun of me.”

     Severus felt his lips twitch. “Countless? Is that a promise?” He couldn’t believe that he was actually seriously considering this. It was madness. Him staying, having to suffer through spending yet another year with Harry, which would most certainly pass at a snail’s pace, before he would get to return to the only place he could even begin to call home. I must have lost my mind. What in the name of the nine hells is wrong with me?

     “If you’ll stay,” Harry replied, looking at him anxiously. “You can mock me all you want.”

     I can just imagine what Albus would say. ‘Sorry I cannot come home right now, but I find that I would like to spend another year with the annoying brat. I’m sure you can get Granger to cover for me another year. But after that I’ll be back. Honest.’ Oh yes, that would go over splendidly. There was far too much wrong with this suggestion. He had a job back in England that he could not just desert because he felt like it; he hated the university, wanted to leave it and never return; he just knew that he and Harry would spend the majority of the time fighting with each other; by tomorrow he would have already changed his mind about the whole thing; it was just a plain stupid idea, and against all rational objections, Severus found that he wanted to stay.

     He honestly wants me to stay, Severus thought in amazement, studying Harry, who looked as if he were going to explode waiting for Severus’ decision. But…why? It made no logical sense. But then, nothing about the entire task that Albus had given him had really made much sense from the start. Unbidden, an image flashed through Severus’ mind: a memory of the day Albus had told him that he would be going to New York to protect one Harry Potter. “Ron please, stop antagonizing Severus. That is not helping anything. Hermione, calm down and don’t worry. You are more than qualified to teach Potions for a year or two while Severus is away.” Severus could almost feel time come to a screeching halt. “You are more than qualified to teach Potions for a year or two while Severus is away.”

     “He knew,” Severus whispered.

     “What?” Harry asked, confused.

     Severus looked up at Harry, feeling as if the ground had dropped out from under his feet. “He knew. Albus. He knew.”

     “He knew what?” Harry got up from his chair and walked over to Severus. “Come on, Severus, you’re starting to freak me out. What’s going on?”

     Severus shook his head. “I don’t know.” Harry was about to demand an explanation, when Severus continued. “I’m going to stay,” he announced, apropos to nothing. At the time, Severus hadn’t thought anything of Albus’ comment. He had been too concerned about whether or not he was losing his job to wonder if Albus was speaking generally or specifically. Now though, Severus knew that it was not a general comment. Albus Dumbledore never said anything accidentally, without purpose.

     “You’re staying?” Harry repeated, nonplussed. 

     “Yes.”

     “What made you change your mind?” Harry couldn’t help asking. “Not that I’m wanting you to leave, but before it seemed like you were against staying.”

     “I do not think that I have any other choice but to stay another year.”

     “Severus, please, this isn’t making any sense. What’s going on?”

     What is going on, Albus? I could excuse a great many things as just being part of your particularities. But not this. Not this. “Albus knew, Harry. He knew that I was going to accept your invitation and stay the next year,” Severus explained, looking intently into Harry’s eyes. “He told Granger, the day we met to decide what to do about you, that she would be filling in my place for two years.”

     “But that’s impossible!” Harry protested. “How could he know that?”

     Severus shook his head. “I do not know the answer to that,” he said darkly. “All I do know, with any certainty, is that Albus is up to something. And when we return to Hogwarts, I intend to find out what it is.”

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Author’s Notes: First, I should probably say that this is the end of Fine Lines. There will be a sequel to it though, Shades of Grey, that I have already begun working on. So the first chapter of that ought to be out sometime soon. The semester is almost over, and I’m no longer sick. So I should have more time to write soon.

There are two people specifically that I want to thank for their part in the process of writing this: Quennethe and SkyKennel. This story is dedicated to the both of you.

   Quennethe, you kept me writing even when I wanted to just say ‘the hell with it’ and stop. I thank you for that, and for patiently putting up with me subjecting you to printouts of my story nearly every day at work.

   SkyKennel, you also deserve effusive thanks for allowing me to send you chapter after chapter, asking for you to take the time to read over it and point out all of my errors. Thank you so much for that.

   To the both of you, thank you for providing me with the comments and suggestions that I so desperately needed on those parts that I just couldn’t make work. You both have been invaluable to my writing. So, thank you. Very much.

   To everyone who has been reading this story, I owe you my thanks as well. Getting feedback from everyone provided the impetus that I needed to keep writing. Knowing that people read it, and knowing that people liked it, prevented me from getting bored with it. Thank you.

I’ve said it before and I’ll undoubtedly say it again. I never thought this story would well received, or to be honest, even received at all. I’ve never put any of my writings out for anyone else to read, and I was astonished by the response that this got. The idea was a simple one that I got one morning on my way to college, that somehow got out of my control and developed into quite a long story. I found that there was a depth and complexity there that I wasn’t even remotely aware of, when I first began this. In effort to prevent my author’s notes from becoming a book in and of themselves, I’ll stop. If I’ve forgotten anything, I’ll make sure to get it at the end of Shades of Grey.

Thank you everyone. I cannot tell you just how much I truly have appreciated everything.