Chapter 1: Home Sweet Home

     I should have known. Give these blundering idiots the slightest opportunity to throw a party and they blow it completely out of proportion. What ever possessed me to want to come back here? Severus thought, scowling at the mass of people crowding around them, and, for good measure, the world in general. I exchange one circus for another. Perhaps I ought to give up entirely, get a house in the middle of nowhere, and live out the remainder of my life as a recluse. At least then I could keep the level of stupidity that I find myself subjected to under a manageable level.

     Severus was not really sure what he had been expecting when he and Harry returned to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But whatever it was, it most certainly was not what he had found upon entering the castle. Due to the fact that it was impossible to Apparate on school grounds, the two of them had been forced to ride the Hogwarts Express in from the train station in London. This in and of itself annoyed Severus, who knew that riding the train would ensure that everyone at Hogwarts would know precisely when they would be arriving. All he wanted was some peace and quiet, to be able to go down into the dungeons and lock himself away until such a time as he felt that he had managed to get the feeling of Muggleness from his skin. Standing in the entranceway of the castle, forward movement impeded as a swarm of people, all seemingly bent on talking over each other, descended upon Harry, was not what he had been looking forward to through the frustration of their trip back home.

     Because neither one of them had felt like Apparating across the Atlantic Ocean, Harry had suggested that they take a plane back to England. Severus had seen these ‘planes’ on TV and in the movies that Harry had somehow managed to drag him to during the year following the defeat of Lucius Malfoy. They had seemed acceptable, rather like large comfortable buses that could get passengers to wherever they were trying to go in a relatively short amount of time. So, he had agreed. It had not taken very long, however, for Severus to realize that Muggle media was not quite as honest and realistic as Muggle reality. The seats, spacious and comfortable in the movies, were cramped and decidedly uncomfortable. There had not been any low-hanging baggage compartments that made stretching once in a while impossible in the movies. Of course, the movies had also glossed over the awful smells, the high pitched whiny noises of the engines, the terrible food, and the multitude of highly obnoxious passengers, such as the large man in front of him who had kept his seat in the recline position the entire trip or the bratty kids behind him who, when they were not crying and screaming, kept kicking and hitting the back of his seat. And worst of all, the movies had somehow neglected to mention that it took a lot more than an hour to get to England from New York.

     Many hours later, thoroughly disgusted, resolved never to go on another plane in his life, and feeling the beginning twinge of homicidal urges, Severus was finally on the Hogwarts Express that, while comfortable in any other circumstance, seemed just as uncomfortable as the plane. Dreams of holing up in his office were dashed when they got off the train and entered the castle, to see the entire faculty and a few assorted others standing there waiting for them. All they need is a bloody banner, Severus had thought irritably. And maybe some stupid hats.

     There had only been a moment of silence when they had walked in, before there had been a collective exclamation of “Harry!” and the large group of people turned into something resembling a rather excited mob that wasted no time in stampeding over. Luckily for Severus, none of them seemed to care whether or not he was there, so he was able to withdraw into a dark corner and watch the proceedings without being bothered directly.

     Stupid Muggle invention, Severus thought, minus the fluent cursing that had followed other such thoughts during the trip, as he tried yet again to clear the stuffed up feeling from his ears that the plane ride had left him with. It was a distinctly unpleasant sensation, making his head feel foggy and every noise sound muted, as if it were traveling underwater. He couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he should have taken Harry up on that offering of gum when they had boarded the plane, instead of snarling an emphatic “No” at the younger wizard. All he really needed, he knew, was a chance to get to his office and make a restorative potion that would make the awful feeling go away.

     No one is even going to notice that I’m gone, he thought, giving the hall a perfunctory once-over. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Harry turned his head and looked him right in the eyes. Severus was annoyed at the surprise that he felt at such a simple action. It was only natural that now, surrounded by all of his friends and fans, Harry would forget about Severus. That he was refusing to act in the expected manner frustrated Severus, especially when he could easily read the plea not to leave in Harry’s eyes, to wait until Harry could leave too. But that’s the point, I don’t want company, Severus wanted to yell, but instead was forced to keep that particular thought to himself. He frowned at Harry then, expressing his annoyance plain enough for Harry to read, yet nodding minutely, just enough for Harry to understand that yes, while he just wanted to escape from the crowd, Severus would wait. That they had gotten to know each other well enough to be able to have a conversation through only the barest of facial expressions was another aspect of his life that Severus was having severe reservations about. But, like everything else anymore, one that he was unable to do anything about, even if he truly wanted to.

     It was not, of course, because of any special feelings of caring that made the silent communication possible, Severus was quick to point out to himself. Rather, it was the amount of time that they had spent together during the past year, from Harry’s senior year of college to the summers spent in the beach house that they and Harry’s friends had rented in an effort to send their last year together out in style. It was only natural, living with someone for that long, to become accustomed to mannerisms and expressions. That he was still no closer to understanding Ben and Kevin’s particular habits, Severus chalked up to the fact that he had only known them for a year and a half, not nearly as long as he had known Harry. And that was the only explanation that Severus was even going to bother considering. Otherwise…well, he knew where the other path led and he was not ready to journey down it.

     Adopting his best ‘come near me and you’ll have the honor of being subjected to the best self-esteem shattering observations in my power to reveal to you’ attitude, Severus leaned back against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and settled in for the long haul, effectively shutting out the loud, inane chatter going on around him. If he was going to have to be subjected to this, he was going to make damn sure that everyone else felt as uncomfortable as he did. And so he resorted to staring and closely scrutinizing everyone present.

     There was Dumbledore, standing toward the fringe of the crowd surrounding Harry, obviously trying to stay out of the way of Harry’s most immediate friends. Albus looked over at Severus, giving him a smile and a wink, before turning back to watching Harry. Severus felt his upper lip twitch in a snarl. Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve done. I have exercised a rather large amount of patience in waiting for the moment when I could face you about this. You may have been able to ignore my letters, but you will not be able to avoid me now that I am here.  Before this week is over Albus, you are going to tell me what game it is that you’re playing at. And you’re going to tell me what exactly you’ve done to me.

     Closest to Harry were Granger and Weasley, who kept interrupting their conversations with him to give him a hug, as if he were going to vanish if they did not keep reassuring themselves of his physical presence. It seemed strange, now that Severus was watching them interact, that neither Granger nor Weasley had shown up during the summer to visit Harry. All they had needed to do was ask Dumbledore where Harry and Severus were staying; after all, Severus did make sure to keep Albus updated on both their whereabouts and their lives. Severus’ eyes flickered back to Dumbledore. It was you. I do not know why, or how, but it was you. I know it was. I remember how Weasley acted, two years ago when you told us where Potter was. You prevented them from going to see him. Why? Damn you, Albus. What are you doing?

     It did not take very long for them to feel the weight of his stare, and both Granger and Weasley glanced at him. Granger offered a tentative smile before turning back to Harry, while Weasley glared at him hatefully before leaning in to say something to Harry that made Harry look up at Severus again. Severus stared stonily back. Yes, Potter. You friends are back at your side. May the customary hatred resume, as if there had never been anything else. They stared at each other for a moment more before Harry turned back to Weasley and said something that made the Auror blink. Was that a word in my defense, or an agreement with whatever insult Weasley made? In the end, it hardly matters. Giving it no more thought, Severus allowed his gaze to continue roaming about the crowd.

     There was McGonagall, standing near Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. She too felt Severus’ stare immediately and returned it, pointedly staring at his leather pants and raising an eyebrow. Severus felt the snarl returning and Minerva looked away, leaving him with the uncomfortable feeling that she had somehow managed to win that particular round. The other teachers and faculty members were present; Hagrid-Don’t tell me that great idiot is teaching again-who had moved to the front to give Harry a hug that lifted him off the ground, Flitwick, Sinistra, Sprout, Binns, the list went on. Since the school year did not start until the following day, and Harry had wanted to arrive before the Sorting and the beginning of the term, there were no students in residence yet. Severus could just imagine the furor the following day when the new and returning students were treated to the guest appearance of everybody’s hero, Harry Potter. Severus rolled his eyes in disgust. All we need is for Black and Lupin to show up, and then the fun can really begin.

     Severus was just about to return his gaze to Granger, for lack of anything better to do than to see if he could sufficiently unnerve her with a fear that he was going to start screaming at her for the job she did with his class, when he noticed that there was someone else there, hanging back on the outside of the crowd in the same manner that he himself was. For the briefest second, Severus thought he was seeing a ghost. A tall, pale-haired, grey-eyed ghost. The image wavered then, and he saw the outsider for who he really was: the son of that ghost, Draco Malfoy. 

     Over the course of the year following his killing Lucius, Severus had been given to the occasional wondering of what had become of the son. Though it did not plague him and mock him with his past sins, as so many of his other thoughts did, he still had not been able to forget that somewhere out there, Draco had been set free from the chains of his father’s crimes. And Severus wondered what he would do with that newfound freedom. The last thing he had expected, however, was to see the young man standing there in Hogwarts during Harry’s impromptu welcome back celebration. Unbidden, the echo of a frantic, panicky voice rose up in his mind: “Hell, maybe Draco is going to be out for my blood now that his father is dead.”  Severus’ eyes narrowed then, as he stared intently at Draco, who was still watching the group around Harry and had not yet looked in Severus’ direction.

     What are you doing here, Draco? Here, of all the places in this world that you could go to. Why? Severus had not spent many years of his life as a Death Eater to put all of his caution and suspicion to rest. And there was something about the way that Draco was watching the group in the center of the crowd, watching Harry, that made the back of Severus’ neck tingle in warning. I did not save him from you only to have your son kill him, Severus thought darkly, speaking, as he had found himself doing of late, to the man that he had so recently murdered. Is that why he is here, Lucius? Was it your dying charge to him to come here and finish what you started? To succeed where you failed? For his sake, I hope not. Because just as I would not let you harm him, neither will I allow your son that opportunity.

     Perhaps it was the intensity of his gaze. Or perhaps Draco could just tell whenever someone was staring at him. Because his head turned suddenly, meeting Severus’ eyes confidently. Time seemed to crawl to a stop, as they stared at each other. There was something there, in Draco’s eyes, that Severus just did not trust. Something that spoke of some type of special knowledge, secret knowledge. Draco knew something. Of that, Severus had no doubt. It was just a matter of uncovering that secret. Damn it all. Is it too much to ask for some peace and mundanity? Must there always be another puzzle, another plot? I am getting far too old for all of this.

     Draco was the first to break eye contact. He glanced around the room, as if to see whether or not anyone was looking at him. Then he did something that Severus found to be very strange. After assuring himself that no one was looking at them, for indeed no one was, Draco made a halting, abortive movement that looked as if he wanted to walk over to Severus but then caught himself at the last minute. He opened his mouth for a second, then closed it and shook his head at himself before turning away from Severus completely and returning his focus back to the group in front of him. Severus was left staring at the back of Draco’s pale head. What just happened there?

     It did not take very long for him to become lost in a tangle of suspicion, fear, and frustration. In fact, it was only when he felt a hand at his elbow that his eyes focused and he returned to reality. “What?” Severus snapped, glaring at whoever had had the nerve to touch him.

     It did not come as a surprise to Severus that the owner of the hand was Harry. Only Harry would risk bodily harm by voluntarily touching him. “Are you all right?” Harry asked, looking up into Severus’ eyes in concern.

     Severus scowled at him as he shook Harry’s hand off his arm. “What do you want?”

     Harry, much to Severus’ annoyance, did not look the least taken aback by Severus’ tone. “Well,” he began reasonably, “I wanted to go unpack my stuff. Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to offer me a room while I’m here. If you want to stay in the hallway, I’m not going to stop you.”

     A flicker of movement drew Severus’ eyes away from Harry. The hall had finally emptied out; the last few stragglers were only just now leaving. One of them, Draco Malfoy, had paused to regard Severus and Harry closely before turning and disappearing down a side corridor. Severus’ eyes narrowed after Draco’s retreating back. How long were you standing there watching us? And why were you doing so in the first place?

     “Severus?”

     Severus turned his attention back to Harry, who was glaring at him. “What?”

     “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

     Shaking his head, Severus started off in the direction of the dungeons. “There is nothing wrong, Mister Potter. Now, as you so kindly reminded me, I am going to unpack,” he paused in mid-step, before throwing over his shoulder a muttered, “Welcome back to Hogwarts.”

     There were perhaps five seconds of time during which Severus thought that he was actually going to get some time alone, before the sound of footfalls shattered that illusion as well.

     “That’s it?” Harry asked, catching up to him. “You’re just going to walk away?”

     Thoroughly irritated, Severus glared at him. “Are you having a problem, Mister Potter?”

     “No, but I think you are,” Harry shot back.

     That sense of disorientation came back to Severus at that point, much like it had back when he first tried to type and Harry had started yelling at him. Somehow their conversation had taken a decidedly antagonistic tone and Severus was at a loss to explain how. Maybe if he just ignored him, Harry would go away. It was worth a shot, in any case. And it would solve the problem, albeit temporarily.

     It wasn’t until they had descended the stairs to the dungeons and walked up to the door of Severus’ rooms, Harry still refusing to just leave him alone, that Harry grabbed Severus by the arm and twisted him around to face him. The momentary feeling of surprise rapidly turned into anger, and Severus was just about to start berating Harry when Harry beat him to it.

     “Look,” Harry started, looking as if he was about to give Severus a good shake, “I don’t know what you think coming back here means, but if you even for a moment start entertaining the idea of forcing things back to the way they were when I was a student here, you’re in for a rather rude awakening. Do you hear me?” Harry hissed, accenting his question by giving Severus a sharp poke in the chest.

     Severus snarled at him. “Touch me again, Mister Potter, and I will break that hand of yours.”

     “You won’t and we both know it,” Harry retorted. “Convince yourself of whatever you want, I don’t care. But do not start trying to convince me of whatever excuse you want to delude yourself with. Voldemort is dead; you have no reason to back to that old charade and I’m not going to tolerate it if you do. We’ve been through far too much for all that nonsense again. As much as you may not like it, we are friends.”

     “Your friends are up there,” Severus gestured curtly to the floors above them. “You may want to sort out your facts first, before making assumptions about your relationships with people.”

     “I’m making an assumption, am I?”

     “It certainly seems so,” Severus snapped, wrenching free of Harry’s grip on his arm. “Now if you’d run along and do whatever it is you plan on doing here, perhaps I can-”

     “Don’t you dare start treating me like a child!”

     “Then perhaps you shouldn’t act like one,” the words slipped out before Severus could stop them.

     “What are you talking about?” Harry asked him after regarding him in silence for a minute.

     “Has your command of the English language somehow deteriorated during the last few minutes that you are unable to comprehend what I am saying?”

     “You know damned well that…” Harry trailed off as they stared at each other angrily. “Oh, I understand,” he said slowly, giving Severus a measuring look. “You’re wrong, you know.”

     Severus frowned. “I am not going to even pretend to know what you’re going on about now.”

     “Oh, you’re right about what he said to me. But you’re obviously terribly wrong about I said in return.”

     Someone has been spending far too much time with Ben, apparently. Do not go trying to psychoanalyze me, Mister Potter. It bothered him, more than Severus cared to admit, that Harry had seen to the root of the problem so easily. Annoyed, Severus was turning to open the door to his office when Harry grabbed his arm. Again. All right, that’s it.

     “I wasn’t making a joke at your expense, Severus,” Harry said through gritted teeth as Severus dug the nails of his free hand into the hand of Harry’s that was gripping his arm. “If it makes you feel better to know, I told Ron off for what he said.”

     “If you think that I would waste the energy needed to care what you and Weasley say about me-” Severus began, prying Harry’s hand off of him. It was not helping matters that Severus found that deep down, he really did care what Harry was saying about him to Ron Weasley.   

     “Would you stop it?” Harry interrupted. “This is me here, Severus, or have you forgotten that? You don’t have to pretend and you don’t have to be such a prickly bastard about everything.”

     They continued to stand there glaring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Funny, how different things are between us now that we are here again. Perhaps we cannot help but live up to the expectations of the others. Severus pondered the matter a moment more before heaving a mental sigh. “Did you notice Draco in your crowd of well-wishers?” he asked quietly.

     The tension between them faded as Harry blinked. “For a second there at the end, I did. To tell you the truth, I thought I was imagining it.”

     Severus glanced up and down the hall, knowing that there was no one lurking there but feeling the need to check, just to make sure. “No, you weren’t imagining it,” he responded as he turned to the door and opened it, gesturing to Harry to follow him in. “You were not imagining it at all.”

     “You’re worried about it,” Harry observed as he walked in after Severus, turning to shut the door behind him.

     “I am not worried, merely wary,” Severus corrected him. “I do not know why he is here. It is not as if he has friends here with the staff, as you do.”

     “There’s more to it than that. What else are you thinking?”

     “Remember a year ago, when you were trying to convince me to stay with you? Do you remember what you said to me?” Severus asked.

     “I said a lot of things,” Harry replied, sounding puzzled. “Not precisely, no.”

     “One of the reasons you threw out was that perhaps Draco would seek revenge on you for the death of his father,” explained Severus.

     Harry’s eyes widened. “Do you think that that’s why he’s here?”

     Severus shrugged. “It sounds a bit farfetched, but at this point, I hardly think that that is a good enough reason to write it off completely.”

     “But surely Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t let him stay if he was intent on murdering me!” Harry protested.

     “Albus Dumbledore has a notorious habit of picking up strays and giving them second chances that some of them do not deserve,” Severus muttered darkly. “Just, be on your guard if you must have dealings with him.”

     Harry ran a hand through his bangs and laughed in an expulsion of nervousness. “Never a dull moment, is there, Severus?”

     “It does not appear so, no.”

     Severus was staring off into space, unaware of Harry moving around behind him, when a startled exclamation brought him out of his reverie. “What the hell is this?!”

     “Hmm?” Severus turned to see what Harry was talking about. Oh bloody hell. But, I guess it’s all right. There is no possible way that he’s ever going to recognize it. Sitting on the floor next to his desk was the burnt out, blackened husk of what at one time used to be Harry’s microwave. Harry was currently prodding it with his foot, trying to figure out what it was.

     Severus shrugged nonchalantly. “An old project I was working on, I believe. I had forgotten about it.” That was at least partially true. He really had been trying to get the thing to work. And he had forgotten that he had sent it to his office after it had blown up.

     “How long has it been sitting here? Why didn’t anyone come in and remove it?”

     Yes, I wouldn’t mind knowing that as well. “I have no idea. However, speculation about old experiments has nothing to do with our previous topic of conversation,” Severus added, trying to take Harry’s attention away from the ruined appliance. “Now, if you could just-”

     “Eew, Severus this is really gross. I think it’s got stuff growing on it. Maybe you ought to do something about it.”

     “Yes, yes, I’ll take care of it later,” Severus said, waving a hand dismissively at Harry. Just bloody leave it alone.

     “I don’t know, maybe you should…” Harry’s voice trailed off.

     Good, perhaps he’s gotten over his curiosity and will leave it be.

     “Wait a minute!”

     Severus winced. So much for that.

     “Severus, is this my microwave?!”