DISCLAIMER: The only thing I have to my name at the moment is five dollars and a new vaccum...oh, and a sack of flour with a picture of George Bush's face on it...Translation: I don't own it.
Dark Heart
Beta: the wonderful moonyNZ
Introduction
I don't think I could tell you how or when it all started. Even to this day I am not sure of it myself. It all appears so extraordinary that the only logical explanation is that somebody with a twisted sense of humour made it all up.
Nevertheless, it was real.
No longer am I able to deny the truth, especially when it is right there staring me in the face. How I long to deny it…
Certainly I will never admit it. One in my position could never be expected to do such a rash thing. No, I am granted the right to keep it all to myself under lock and key, snarling at anyone who dares to try to overstep the boundaries I have established.
But even boundaries could not be kept for long, I soon discovered.
It would be two whole years before my resolve would be tested by the very being. I unexplainably found myself drawn to. Two long years would go by after the final battle before we would be thrown together once again.
Two long years would go by before I would have to open that door I had once closed and examine the unfamiliar emotions bubbling inside of me.
Damn that insufferable bastard who, even in death, couldn't leave well enough alone…
I was doing just fine as is. I had my work to keep me busy, my few 'friends' to keep me distracted, and a few bottles of Firewhisky to keep me from remembering. Yes, I was doing fine.
But then, fate has always been cruel.
Why now? Why now after two years of being…content with life did this have to happen? Why now when I was finally starting to forget?
I received no answer to these question neither then nor now, though I really don't expect any.
Two years had gone by without a word and now this? Their return…oh how everyone is soooo happy….but I'm not.
And why?
Because of things that I'd much rather forget, that's why. I was beginning to get good at forgetting too and then this had to happen to ruin it all.
Maybe I should just burn the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. At least then that old nutter would stop smirking at me knowingly.
Why can't he just leave me the bloody hell alone?
Once upon a time, I would have thought I could escape him, but he's still right there- those damn blue eyes always twinkling at me.
I'm quite cynical, am I not?
Don't answer that, I know the truth. Yes, I am cynical and foreboding, more so since the war. But now, now I really have no idea how to act. This feeling is new to me….
Why me?
Oh yes, that seems to be the question of the hour. Why me? I haven't done anything…recently, so why me? Can't the 'powers that be' or whatever the hell they're called just leave well enough alone for once and let life take its course?
Of course not because then they wouldn't be the 'powers that be' now would they?
I think I should move.
Yes, that's it. I'll just pack my bags and be out of the country before anyone can stop me. I'll go someplace where they'll never find me, somewhere they'll never think to look. But where?
New Zealand.
Yes, I can go to New Zealand and live out the rest of my life happily without anyone there to constantly badger me. I can send an occasional owl just to let them know that I am unfortunately still alive and that under no excuse are they to come and visit. I would hex the first person to try.
Of course moving is not an option.
That old hag that is the Headmistress now is just as interfering and infuriating as her predecessor, if not more so since she constantly takes advise from his portrait.
Yes, I am doomed to stay here forever.
But why now?
I still maintain the fact that everything is going just fine and they have no need whatsoever to do what they did, but do they ever listen to me?
No.
Maybe a vacation.
No, they would find that odd and assume that I am running from something. I never run.
Gods, my head is beginning to hurt.
Alright, I bet by now all of you infuriating dunderheads are wondering what the bloody hell I'm rambling about. Let me tell you.
After the final battle, Saint Potter and his two trustworthy sidekicks took off somewhere to 'get away.' Now they've decided to finally come back and disrupt everyone's life, mainly mine.
As they re-enter the wizarding world, I, who never fears anything, fear that I may be forced to face the most daunting of things- my feelings.
Who am I?
Well, if you impossible gits haven't discovered that already then I am not going to tell you. However, I will give you an accurate and detailed account of the events that occurred after the Golden Boy's return along with his sidekicks.
Here is my account. Be gracious that I'm even sharing with you. Do not talk during the tale. Do not even dare to breathe.
I will tell this once and once only. If you miss something then it is by no fault of mine that your ridiculously small brains failed to keep up.
This is my story…
Chapter 1
The frightening form of Severus Snape paced the length of the Headmistresses' office for the seventh time, ignoring the two pairs of twinkling eyes that observed him. He clenched his fists at his side as he finally stopped before the Headmistress herself, Minerva McGonagall.
"No."
Clear, precise, and to the point. Professor Snape never minced his words for any one. Even after the war when he was made to stand before the Wizengamot to account for his actions, he had not backed down nor offered any petty excuses. Somehow, he had made it out without even a slap on the wrist.
Now at six foot three, Severus Snape looked a foreboding opponent. He had resumed the title of Potions Master which was why they were in need of a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. That was also the reason for his clear refusal.
"Severus, I am not asking you. I merely thought that as my Deputy Headmaster you would like to know what I planned to do," Minerva's voice told him that she would not appreciate any argument from him on this master.
That did not mean he had to be happy about it.
"Minerva, I ask you to rethink this. Your plan is absurd! To willingly invite them, all of them I might add, back into this castle is just begging for trouble."
"You've always had a flare for the dramatics," she commented with amusement, earning herself a glare from the darkly clad man. "Severus, they're twenty years old, not children. They haven't been children for a while."
"They will always be immature, dim-witted, and stupid."
Dumbledore chose that moment to put his two knuts in. "Really Severus, how can you say that when you yourself worked alongside Miss Granger for a brief period on a potion? She can hardly be described as dim-witted or stupid."
"I concede with you on that one point. Miss Granger is an exception to that particular statement." Severus bowed his head slightly.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even in the confines of the frame. "Come now, Severus, even Mr. Potter has his strong points in academics…"
"Albus, you've already forced me to admit that Miss Granger is above average, I will admit to nothing else, especially something that I could not consider to be true."
"As charming as this conversation promises to be," Minerva drawled, "we are not here to discuss their intelligence, but their prospect as future…"
"No, no, absolutely not." Severus was once again pacing the length of the floor. He glared hatefully at the two staring at him. "I do not approve of what…"
"As I said before, I was not asking you anything," Minerva stood from her seat behind the desk and went to stand directly in his path. "Severus, I am not asking your permission but I would like your approval."
"Forget it," he snapped.
"Severus," Albus said in a way of warning.
"Albus," he returned with a quirk of his brow.
Minerva suddenly snapped into her Professor mode. "Listen here, Severus Snape, I will hire them as teachers and you will be pleasant to them. They will be your colleagues and you will treat them as such. If I hear one word about you hassling them in any way, then you will regret it."
Severus glowered at her for a heartbeat before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the office. The two watched silently as he disappeared. When they heard the gargoyle slide back into place downstairs, Minerva turned to Albus' portrait.
"What do you think?" she inquired, moving back around the desk to sit down. She crossed her hands over her knees.
"I think he is feeling much more than he is letting on," he replied.
Minerva only shrugged. "If you say so."
o-o-o-o-o
The plane landed at Heathrow at exactly six fifty-nine in the evening on August seventeenth. Amidst all the normal muggle passengers sat three wizards, each with an impassive look on their face as they thought about finally returning home.
Ronald Weasley, better wise known as Ron, sat thinking about the family he left behind. Though four of the Weasley's had regretfully died during the final battle- Percy, Charlie, Fred, and Molly- his still missed his family.
He was also thinking of chocolate frogs.
Harry James Potter was remembering his life in London and his memories of his time at Hogwarts- the only time he could remember when he was ever truly happy. His thoughts then shifted to all those who had died during the final battle including his former mentors Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore.
He was also thinking of a certain redheaded Weasley.
Hermione Jane Granger was sitting there thinking of her late parents. They had been among the fatalities in the final battle. It appeared as if Voldemort himself had killed them in an attempt at sending her over the edge. However, he had ultimately awoken a blind rage within the bushy haired witch and she had did everything in her power to bring about his destruction.
She was also thinking of the crush she left behind.
Each didn't seem to notice the stirring of the other passengers as the plane's wheels touched down on the runway. Nor did they notice the excitement of their fellow passengers as they shared memories of London.
They were lost in their own private memories.
Only when they were completely still and the other people on the plane began rising from their seats did they snap out of it. Hermione was the first to rise, Harry the second with Ron following suit shortly after.
No words were exchanged, none were needed, as they gathered their stuff and excited the plane. They were finally home after two long years, returning to the place they had once called home.
The war was over, but had it changed?
"Luggage pick up is this way," Hermione informed them as they walked through the terminal, weaving in and out of the crowd.
The other two nodded and followed her as she lead the way. They had learnt a long time ago that Hermione knew the muggle world far better than they and so they trusted her completely. That was another thing they had learnt- trust.
Their baggage was amazingly on top of the pile just waiting for them. They snatched it up before quickly dispatching from the crowded terminal.
No one had even noticed the three war heroes.
They walked a good way before signaling for a taxi to take them to the flat they had rented for the rest of the month. Harry had insisted on paying for it. They made the ride in complete and total silence.
"This is odd."
The comment came from Ron and finally broke the silence that had settled over them. Harry and Hermione both started to chuckle softly before finally just laughing out right.
"I can't wait to get a large cup of tea and some books," Hermione said, her eyes shining happily as she thought of the bookstore.
"I can't wait to walk back onto a Quidditch pitch again." Harry's emerald eyes were shining as he, no doubt, was remembering the sensation of flying. "I also want to visit the Quidditch shop again."
"Honeydukes," was all that Ron said with a large smile on his face.
"Of course," Hermione said with a large smile. "Anyway, it's good to be back."
"Yeah," Harry said wistfully, "now that there's no one out there trying to kill me every time I turn around."
Ron laughed while Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but now there's no reason for us to continuously get into trouble," the redhead commented.
"Nor any excuse to get us out," the bushy haired witch retorted.
Harry placed his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her lightly. "Oh Hermione, there is always an excuse."
All three of them laughed. The taxi driver observed them oddly in the rear-view mirror which only made them laugh that much harder.
"So," Harry said as they walked into the large flat about fifteen minutes later, "we're officially home. No turning back now, eh?"
Ron shrugged but Hermione remained noncommittal. She walked past them further into the flat, her eyes looking around the space.
Harry walked up behind her and wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her back against him. "Do you really want to go back to Hogwarts?"
She spun around in his arms and hugged him around the waist. "No, not really…I just… I don't know." She sighed and rested her head against his chest. "I've wondered what it would feel like to be back, but it's just weird."
"It has been a while," he commented.
"Two years," she said. "It's been two long years." She leaned back and smiled up at him. "We're not home yet, Harry. Home is Hogwarts."
He pressed a friendly kiss to her forehead. "You're right about that."
From the direction of the kitchen, Ron's voice drifted to them, causing them to laugh. "Where's all the food?"
A/N: This story is another short one...only 7 chapters. I hope ya'll like it...
Much Love,
MiZZ AmAyA