CHAPTER ONE

There was a noise at the window. Lurching forward and to the side, Severus Snape fell out of his chair. Hells bells. His head was throbbing with each movement of his body. Where'd his wand get to? Incessantly, the tapping continued. He was going to hex the feathers off of that damn bird. Snape stumbled to a half standing position and staggered into a precarious tower of books, which he cursed to the seven rings of hell, before swinging to a stop in front of the window. He leaned heavily on the frame as he got the sash open.

In the back corner of his mind, the one part of his brain that was almost not hung over, Severus wondered what a Hogwarts owl was doing tapping at his window. Warily, he unlatched the door and the owl glided into the room to perch on the coffee table. Minerva had even managed to turn the owls against him. This one glared odiously down its beak at him before thrusting out the leg with the letter tied to it. Severus bent to retrieve it, making his head pulse with the effort. The letter was written on the typical Hogwarts stationary.

'Severus,

I know we may have had our differences', Severus snorted. That was an understatement.

'But it pleases me'—

Bollocks—

'Know that I hoped to not have had to disturb you with this'—

That was more like it—

'—Have lost dear Wendell to Durmstrang, and am able to afford you with a job offer. If you are available, the position of potions master is yours'—

Severus stopped reading when he realized he was holding his breath. So the old cat needed his help.

His first inclination was spite, and he'd love to tell her to shove her potions position right up her arse. He'd finished with teaching after the War. And he wasn't going to go back to it—sniffling, whining, little inbreeds. The whole lot of them were just a pain in his arse. The emotional upkeep along when he'd been Head of Slytherin the students had quickly learned that coming to him crying was less than likely going to help them. He'd not been well liked as a professor. Hiring him back again was nothing short of a hare-brained scheme, and she knew it. What he wanted to know was why she was even extending the offer.

No. He'd made a terrible Head, hadn't he? And an even worse Headmaster. Severus crumpled up the letter and glared at the owl. It didn't even flinch. Long ago, he had a good enough glare that the bird would've shied away from him. Severus looked down at himself. Slovenly, wrinkled, his hair probably sticking up and sticking to his greasy skull. Severus snorted. He wasn't nearly like he'd been at Hogwarts. There was no respect for him still. Unless.

A thought flitted across his mind. But why should he send a reply? A personal telling-off was so much more fun! Severus tapped his chin thoughtfully. It was time to sober up…time to go back to school.

Tidying himself up as best he could, Severus drew a bath—or tried to. Then he realized that he had no running water. Curious, Severus flipped a switch. No power, either. Those bills were supposed to be paid automatically. Perhaps a stop at Gringott's bank was necessary, en route to Hogwarts.

Severus eyed his bank vault suspiciously. Once there had been a rather modest amount of gold in here. He'd been careful with his Hogwarts earnings and never living above his means. He could have been fine if the government had not pinched most of it when he'd been indicted. It's not like the Ministry of Magic was about to give it back even if he wasn't in that place any longer. Truth be told, he'd expected a different sight when he climbed out of the goblin's cart and opened the vault door. There was hardly a thing in it, but for the moths. Only six knuts to his name.

He'd been robbed. That had to be the explanation. But when Severus reviewed his bank statements with the goblin at the vault security desk, all the charges were regular ones—namely alcohol related. Severus Snape had literally drank his savings away.

Gods. He was like his father.

The dark look that suddenly passed over Severus' face made the goblin across from him squeak in surprise.

Severus tried to smile, but he was sure it came out more as a grimace, which probably hadn't set the goblin at ease. He flooed back to his hermit-like home.

He was not like his father. He couldn't be like his father. Subconsciously or no, he would never be like that man.

Severus just had a little drinking problem. Namely: the fact that he'd run out of money to support his drinking.

Then again, he'd just about worked through all of his savings…and his potion-by-mail business hadn't exactly flourished. He hadn't filled an order in weeks.

And bills must be paid—alcohol must be bought.

Perhaps he did have a bit of an addiction.

Although, really, who didn't, these days?

Well, he still had to go to Hogwarts—at least now he could go with a slightly different aim in mind. Instead of telling off Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Severus would instead secure his old position. He hesitated as he considered the impertinent idea. He could just do it for a year, mind you, and then he'd be off of it again. After all, how hard could it be if he was just teaching? The stress of two controlling masters wouldn't be in the mix this time. He could teach again, but properly this time.

And then he'd go back to his little house and live in the clutter and read his books and keep his dust bunnies company.

Maybe he should get a house elf.

…with what money?

Severus sighed and looked up to the heavens—in reality, it was only his low-hung plaster ceiling, splotched with water damage and age. Since returning to his childhood home after The Place That Will Not Be Named, he'd not noticed how much he'd reverted to his childhood lifestyle. He'd absorbed aspects of both of his parents' personalities, hadn't he? The drinking from his father and sitting around staring at things from his mother…. In fact, the only times in his life that he'd been industrious had been when he lived at Hogwarts. First as a student and then as a teacher. Even if he had been miserable at least he'd been productive. He'd been able to call himself a functioning member of society at least.

His hand had wrapped around the tail end of a bottle of scotch. He hadn't even realized it until he brought the bottle to his mouth.

Perhaps, a change of setting would be good for him.

Severus stepped out of the fireplace and directly into the Headmistress' office.

The older woman whirled around, clutching at her chest with one hand and the other hand holding her wand out at him. At least he wasn't the only one to remain jumpy after the war.

"Severus Snape!" Minerva exclaimed. Her wand arm fell to the edge of her desk as she slumped in relief at the sight of him. "What in heaven's name are you doing here?"

Severus dusted off his sleeves, and discarded his cloak over the back of the chair. "I got your letter."

Minerva sat down heavily at her desk and indicated the seat in front of her. "Returning the owl would have sufficed."

Allowing a moment's hesitation, he approached the other side of her desk and sat down. He aimed for a casual tone. "How have you been, Minerva?" Carefully, Severus avoided looking at the sleeping portraits of the past Headmasters behind her.

Minerva McGonagall scowled. "You never were one for small talk, Severus. Have you decided to take the job or not?"

Severus dropped his head quickly. He didn't want to appear too eager. "I'd like to review the contract, if you please."

"So you're considering it?"

He allowed a long moment to pass and could practically feel the tension building inside of her. Severus answered finally. "I am considering it."

Like a balloon deflated, Minerva let out a long sigh of relief. "I thought you'd come just to snark." She rifled through her desk looking for papers.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her until she blushed.

"Well, I'm sorry, but that's what I thought you'd want to do more than help out an old friend."

Severus very nearly snorted at her relaxed use of the word 'friend'. Apparently, they had different definitions. "Indeed."

Retrieving the proper copies finally, Minerva handed the papers to Severus with a flourish. "Take your time." She added, although she seemed to mean the opposite when she began to tap her fingers erratically on the desktop.

"Patient as always, I see." Severus quipped.

Minerva scowled at him again. "You're one to talk. That's the pot calling the kettle black if I ever heard."

For the first time in almost a year, Severus let out an actual chuckle. Then his eyes caught something in his teaching contract. Professors are required to maintain professional conduct in all common areas—Severus waved his wand over the document to reveal the charms.

Minerva huffed and crossed her arms in front of herself. "Honestly, they're all normal binding charms, no different than what you're already used to, Severus."

One of the charms glowed blue. A courtesy charm? "When did this come about?" His eyebrows lowered over his eyes as he surveyed the witch in front of him. "Are you trying to pull a trick?"

"It won't compel you to act in anyway, Severus. It's merely a way to enforce civility. It's almost the same as the contract that Albus used."

"Enforce civility?" Severus slid the document away from him. Nothing could make him bind himself to another, not ever again. "Don't you mean enslavement? If I can't behave the way that I please than I want no part of it. None at all."

Minerva's shoulders dropped a fraction, her face softened. "Severus, we both need this. I know you've crawled in a bottle and intend to stay there. But think of some good you could do. You could make a difference here. You're still useful."

"Useful to whom?" Severus' words came out in a snarl. "What do you know of my life? How could you know about any of it at all?"

She pressed her lips together and looked out the window. They sat in a tense silence. Severus could feel his heart beating against his ribs. Anger had always come too him easily, leaping out of his mouth before he realized it. He'd probably ruined the exchange entirely. She'd rescind the offer and he'd return to Spinner's End with nothing.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd squandered an opportunity and had to go home empty handed.

The seconds ticked by, and still Minerva was staring out the window. Severus licked his teeth and screwed up his courage. Damn his pride.

"I apologize for my outburst, Minerva."

She looked back at him, squarely in the eyes. Surprise was smothered all over her face at his apology. Her brow crinkled for a moment. "Severus." She swallowed. "I'm sorry that I've not kept up with you. I won't make excuses but I would like to move forward with this. In the end, I'd like it if we could become friends again."

She'd tipped her hand, and shown him everything. Typical Gryffindor. He frowned at her. The guilt must be eating her alive. Good, she could be miserable in it for all he cared. He had enough guilt to carry without worrying about hers, too. Would they ever be friends? Doubtful. But a working relationship would be…helpful.

"You know what I was the last time I was here, Minerva."

She sniffed primly and looked away. "Those were difficult circumstances, weren't they."

"Oh, quite."

"You've been exonerated and awarded a medal for bravery since then."

He had gotten a medal. An Order of Merlin. They'd handed them out like candy during the cleanup. He'd not gotten his until much later, of course. The ugly, bronze thing was currently pushed underneath his sofa at Spinner's End, collecting dust and filth. Severus turned his mind back to the task at hand. "Some people haven't forgotten about the acts before all that."

"None of the students now were here then." She stared meaningfully at him. "I do not believe that you are a bad instructor, Severus. Stressed perhaps, at times."

She'd never been in the classroom with him, though, had she?

Severus stopped himself. Since when had he grown a conscience? He needed this job, didn't he? Was he really going to try to talk Minerva McGonagall out of giving it to him?

Severus pulled the parchment toward him and continued to scan the contract. "About this section here, let's change it a little."

"Length of tenure? I'm sorry Severus, but I can only guarantee a three-year stint at this time. Even my own contract with the Governors—" Realization dawned in her eyes. "You want a shorter tenure?"

Severus dropped his chin once in a nod. "A year. Only ten months since school will be ending in June."

"Ten months? Severus?" The dismay in her eyes scrunched her face between her brows. "You know how hard it is to find a potion master. It's not like your type grow on trees or anything."

He dipped a shoulder in a quick shrug. "As it stands, I have other commitments to attend to in the next summer."

She peered over her glasses at him. "What sort of commitments?"

Severus bristled at being caught in a lie. "Commitments."

She inhaled deeply through her nose and shot him a hard look. "Very well. We will re-negotiate in ten months. How's that?" She tapped the contract with her wand to adjust the wording.

"Better."

"Can't imagine why you'd up and leave after one school year, Severus."

"Can't you? Really?"

"There's no need for you to lose your temper again." Exasperated, Minerva threw up her hands. "This discussion isn't over until June then."

"Very well."

"It was a very generous offer in its original form."

Her petulance amused him. "Yes, well we potion masters don't grow on trees, I've heard. Couldn't possibly want other offers now could I?"

She just sighed again as they both signed their lives away. For better or for worse he was Hogwarts' potion master for the next school year.

Merlin help them all.

Minerva tapped the contract, and leapt through the air to join the other host of contracts in one of the filing cabinets across from them. "You've missed the Meet and Greet with the parents and the other professors already, but I'm sure you'll meet everyone as they come trickling back. I will need your syllabi by the end of this week, Severus."

He nodded. It wouldn't be too much of a task after he'd taught it for so long.

"And no making any of your students cry. I can't have them coming up here to wallow."

"That's not in the contract, Minerva."

She rolled her eyes. "It's good to have you back."

"The sentiment is rather tarnished by your sarcasm, Minerva." He stood up and wrapped his cloak around himself.

"Nonsense. You wouldn't believe me if I sounded sincere."

There was more truth to that statement than Severus was comfortable with. She shot him a wink over her eyeglasses. It was time for him to head home, pack a few things before he reported back to Hogwarts. He stepped into the green flames of the fireplace and disappeared out the floo.

Severus felt better than he had in a long time. He stepped out of the hearth and looked around his house. Seeing it with sober eyes depressed him. He'd let the place really go, hadn't he? Chewing a fingernail, Severus wondered if he should bother with cleaning up or if he should just incendio the whole place down already.

The owl was still there. Severus could have imagined it, but it seemed to judge him from its perch.

"What are you looking at?" Severus muttered and headed for the kitchen.

He was due back at Hogwarts tomorrow, to work on his curriculum for the year, and wouldn't be back until the summer. Probably the takeaway boxes on the end table would mold over by the time he got back. Wrinkling his nose distastefully, Severus opted for a quick shine of the place. Just a few spells. To get rid of the trash mostly. He didn't want to have a rodent problem when he came back to Spinner's End, anyway.

A half hour later, the house looked mostly unchanged. The trash had been taken out, and Severus had awarded himself with the last fifth of alcohol in his liquor cabinet. He'd done enough for the day, anyway.

The next thing he knew, his mind was fuzzy. Severus rolled over and stared up at his ceiling, which looked uncommonly far away. Ah, he was on the floor. And his head was pounding. Where was the blasted sobering solution?

His arrival to Hogwarts held little fanfare, which he appreciated. He'd rather slink around in the shadows just like old times. He knew the public's opinion of him was divided, and if Minerva chose to keep the hiring of an ex-Death Eater quiet that was fine with him. She held nearly as much sway over the House of Governors as the old coot had, it seemed, if she'd been able to offer him the potions position in the first place. Severus looked up at the familiar towers, his eyes carefully skating away from the tallest one. Gaze lingering over the lake, Severus sought out a wayward tentacle of the Great Squid. A quick wave would have been reassuring; the occasional Squid sightings had always brought him a little luck. And he could do with a stroke of that. The tentacle never appeared however, and Severus couldn't stand about all day waiting for it.

Making his way through the foyer, Severus reveled in the quiet. Soon the halls would be bustling and buzzing, constantly filled with footfalls and childish shrieks.

Shaking off the unease at returning to the halls of Hogwarts, Severus set off for his rooms, careful to avoid the hallways that would dredge up unwanted memories. The rooms were on the third floor. They were modest and toward the back of the castle. Out of sight and out of mind, just as he wanted. The room was plusher than he was used to, less sparse than when he'd resided down in the dungeons. A bedroom with a sitting room as well. The shower pleasantly surprised him—washing in a tub had always been annoying, his hair bearing the brunt of being washed under the tap. He looked at the toiletries. It was obvious that Minerva was set to make a good impression. Severus wasn't above accepting bribes of soaps. Unknown to most, he loved a hot shower as much as the next.

Without the responsibility of being Head of Slytherin, Severus had a bit more leisure time, but he really did have to hurry through setting up for the year, there were only days left before September 1st.

After seeing to his quarters, Severus made for the lab and set it to rights. Dust had collected and Wendell had been less than organized.

It was at dinner that he ran into his first real surprise.

When had Neville Longbottom joined the Hogwarts staff? And what in Merlin's name did he teach?

Severus tried not to show his surprise at the young man's appearance at the dinner table. Neville Longbottom sat far down at the other end, between Aurora Sinastra and Minerva. They were all chummy in a way that Severus envied. Even in the old days it had taken him years to establish any semblance of camaraderie and it had never equaled their display. Severus couldn't help but notice that he was alone at his end of the table. Was he to be excluded again? So be it. What did he want with that lot anyway? In a year he'd be gone again. Greece was cheap, wasn't it? The blue tiled rooftops of Santorini, the sunsets off the cliffs in Sicily. It was a nice thought, and enough of a distraction from being alone.

Just as Severus was set to dig in, he heard Longbottom's voice ring out through the room.

"Oi, Professor Snape."

Severus froze at his name being called out through the Great Hall.

"Wont' you sit down here with us? You'll have all year to sit down there."

Severus glanced up at the smiling face of Neville Longbottom, and sensed for a trap. The other staff members looked either noncommittal or disinterested, but no one had open scorn. Minerva was staring hard at him. She clearly expected him to move down to sit with them.

He snorted. He couldn't remember the last time he ate with someone else. Detecting no discord, Severus made a split second decision. Knowing he was being a fool by leaving himself open to attack, Severus moved three places down the table to the edge of the staff members, leaving an empty seat between him and Flitwick. That was a bit better. And Minerva couldn't possibly argue he was acting a loner. He could keep this up for a year. He ignored the lot of them, and none of them tried to start a conversation. He was half grateful for that, because he doubted he could manage a conversation at that point.

But he did focus on the plate before him. He took controlled, measured bites. One after another in a slow manner. He concentrated solely on his food and ignored the conversation flowing around him. He'd developed a habit of eating quickly since his tenement in the island prison, when he hadn't been sure he'd be allowed to eat the entirety of his meal unless he bolted it. The thought of someone bringing up how quickly he ate as a topic of conversation however, made him cringe. Personally, he'd rather not be noticed at all. So carefully controlled bites of food it was.

Other members of the staff joined them Mr. Filch was still in resident, as was Hagrid the half-giant. Vector and Sinastra were seated next to each other, murmuring a private conversation together. The DADA professor was a petite blonde witch, with a keen look in her eye: Adriana Marquette, one of his former students in Slytherin. There was a brown haired, blue-eyed witch seated across and over a seat. Her glances were languid, and if she were curious about him. She said nothing.

Rolanda Hooch came late to dinner and crossed behind him, patting Severus on the shoulder as she passed him. He stiffened badly, and tried to cover his movement as if readjusting his seat, and glanced up guiltily to see if anyone had recognized his start for what it was. He'd become easily startled after all that had happened, but he hated the lack of control he felt when it did. Only one witch, the one with pale blue eyes seemed to take note. She sipped from her glass, but her gaze skimmed over him.

Severus glowered at her and returned to eating.

So was his first day at Hogwarts.

As Severus climbed into bed that night, abnormally tired, and uncomfortably full, he wondered still if he had made the right choice in coming back. Some small part of him warmed over at the thought that he'd secured his future for the time being. He Severus Snape, was a survivor. Not a man of good moral character or a man of strong principles, obviously, but he saw to it that what needed doing was done. He'd made many sacrifices in his life, for most of his life and this was nothing to all that had already happened. After all, Hogwarts was a temporary solution. And Greece was always an option in June.

Hermione eyed the row of photos along the wall as she waited for Emma to come down the stairs. Taking her first steps—demonstrating her first bout of uncontrolled magic. Emma's wide smile and flyaway dark curls dominated each moving picture. First bicycle, first time seeing quidditch, first finished book. One of Hermione's favorite pictures of her daughter had been when Emma had received her Hogwarts letter only a few months ago. Magic and wonder filled her daughter's eyes that day—and the rest of the summer Emma had been able to speak of nothing else.

Hogwarts, a Histroy had appeared on Emma's bedside table and was religiously pawed through, as if it held the secrets to the universe. The girl had read the book cover-to-cover half a dozen times by now, and had spent hours trailing behind Hermione quoting her favorite facts and bits of trivia about her new favorite place. Inside, all Hermione could do was grin, had she been so determinedly precocious as an eleven-year-old?

And now her baby girl was going off on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. It made Hermione feel old, and well worn. Memories surrounding Emma's arrival had been happy and full of well wishes. Harry and Ginny had been there. As had Ron. He'd stayed outside until the whole thing was over, but it was reassuring to have him more or less present. Ron and Harry had been troopers throughout Emma's life, readily engaging her with their own children. She couldn't have raised Emma by herself –the help of her two best friends had been a godsend. She'd never have been able to balance work and raising a baby alone. Her parents had never returned to her—but Hermione certainly didn't want to think of that now.

"Emma?" Hermione called over her shoulder. They'd packed the night before, so what could the girl be doing? "We're going to be late." Hermione set down the last framed photo.

A moment later, Emma Granger tripped down the stairs decked out in full Hogwarts robes. "I'm ready, Mum."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and Emma froze halfway down the staircase. Before Hermione could open her mouth, Emma rushed to defend herself. "I'll take the robes off before we leave the house—and I just wanted to be efficient, look, I won't even have to change on the train! Don't I look wonderful?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Robe into the trunk and let's go."

They wrestled Emma out of the robe and neatly folded the robe to go into the top of the trunk. With a tap, the trunk shrunk down to fit inside Hermione's hand. "Now then, off we go."

Looping an arm around each other, Hermione disapparated them to King's Cross Station.

Going through the magical barrier between gates nine and ten sent electric prickles from her scalp down to her toes. The steam from the bright scarlet engine swirled around the families, painting a rather romantic picture. Hermione grinned at the lovely sight. She'd not been here for over ten years, and the scene still remained the same. With mothers weeping gently into creamy handkerchiefs, and dads patting children on the head or on the shoulder in farewell. They'd have been an interesting family, had Emma's father wanted to stay around.

"Mum, come on!" Emma could barely contain her excitement and nearly yanked Hermione's arm off in her rush to join the Weasleys. Bill and Fleur were standing to the side, and Hermione greeted them with a hug and a wave. Their daughter Victoire, was going to be a second year at Hogwarts, and had promised to show Emma the ropes. Hermione enlarged Emma's trunk and gave the girl a tight hug and a peck of a kiss on the top of her head. "You be good, my darling." Hermione whispered. She blinked rapidly for a moment, and grinned. She was in control by the time she released her grip.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You always say that."

Hermione nodded, and felt the waterworks coming back. It was silly for her to be crying, she'd see Emma in only a few weeks. "I'll be up there for work next month, you know, and I expect there to be no reports of misbehavior."

Emma looked ready to dash off at any moment, so Hermione released her. "Go, go."

Silvery wand clutched in her hand (eleven inches, black laurel wood, and unicorn hair core), Emma darted to the train, her trunk bouncing along behind her. Hermione held her hand to her mouth, and pressed a knuckle to her lips. Letting children go should not be this difficult.

A hand brushed her arm. It was Fleur. Behind her stood Bill.

"It feels 'orrible, no?"

Hermione nodded.

"Come eat lunch with us, 'Ermione."

Hermione thanked them. "But I've got to go to work today." She watched them walk toward the exit, arm and arm, their heads bent together in conversation. Hermione smiled at the pair of them.

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned to see Harry, waving to her as he approached.

"Did I miss Emma?"

"Wild hippogriffs couldn't have kept her from boarding the train." Hermione smiled. "Is Teddy settled all right then?"

"Oh, he's fine." Harry glanced at her through the fringe over his forehead. It was the way he looked at her, when he didn't want her to know he was looking at her. "How're you holding up?"

Hermione couldn't help but spare him an indulgent smile. "Everything's fine. It's not like I won't ever see her again."

Harry grinned. "Right."

"It does feel strange to do this alone, though."

A significant look crossed Harry's face. "You're not alone, Hermione."

"Of course, I'll always have you and Ginny. And Ron." Hermione nodded. "You're right."

"You know, Ginny's been talking you up to that quidditch bloke. Maybe you should meet him?"

"A fat lot of good that would do me, Harry. I can hardly manage the quidditch talk between you lot. Add in another quidditch player? I'd cry from boredom."

"It's just someone to think about. No harm done."

Hermione laughed. It was as fruitless a conversation as ever. "See you later, Harry."

"Don't forget about the party tonight or Ginny will have both our heads."

"I finally don't need a sitter!" Hermione called over her shoulder as she drifted toward the apparition point. "How could I not take advantage of that?"

In the distance, she saw Fleur and Bill disapparate together, his arm around her waist. For a moment, Hermione felt a twisty feeling in her abdomen. She should be leaving with someone special, too. But who was there?

—Certainly not Emma's father.

No. Never.

He'd been quite adamant that he'd wanted nothing to do with them.