Severus Snape stood in the ornate office, unsure of how to proceed. Only twenty-four hours ago, he was inhaling his own blood in the Shrieking Shack. He was overwhelmed with the anxiety and strange comfort that came with his surely impending death.
Granger, for reasons totally unbeknownst to him, took pity and saved his life. He had no idea why she was equipped with bandages and a venom antidote, but he was thankful nonetheless. She left him, he fell unconscious, and when he awoke he was on his back in the Great Hall. In an uncomfortable rush of information, he learned that Potter defeated Voldemort, and he himself had been granted a full pardon.
By Harry Bloody Potter's word, of course. Just what he needed, another debt to that name.
Draco Malfoy was in a similar situation. In some way, Narcissa spared Potter's life. He tried to grant her a pardon, but she wouldn't accept it unless Draco was included. He'd never been marked, and careful inspection of his wand proved that he hadn't killed. Both mother and son sat at Severus's side, three lost Slytherins in a sea of painfully emotional Gryffindors.
With his pardon, Severus was still technically Headmaster of Hogwarts. He intended passing the title onto Minerva as soon as possible, but the process was stalled by the aftermath of the battle. School wouldn't resume until the next year, anyway. He had months in which to complete the paperwork.
This stall allowed for a particular bonus – Severus was able to take refuge in the Headmaster's office. Quite a few of Hogwarts' most ancient wards intersected at this point, making the room impermeable to battle damage. The recent stress that the wards endured made their magic pulse with power, thereby affecting the magic of the witches and wizards in the room. The ramifications of this effect were mainly emotional, but Severus somehow didn't mind. No one would see him in here. No one could enter without his permission. He was happy to sacrifice his composure in exchange for some much-needed solitude.
However, the longer he sat in the plush chair, the more he considered that this might have been a bad idea. It had been hellacious to occupy this office. He could never truly call it his. It belonged to one Albus Dumbledore, or appropriately Minerva McGonagall after his death. The Potions Professor never should have laid claim to it. The room always tore at the bottom of his stomach (a similar sensation to the moment one's realized they've fallen off of a broom); the epicenter of the wards amplified the feeling. Embarrassed, though alone, Severus succumbed to tears. The relief that the war was over, the loss of Lily, the loss of his mentor, the physical pain where Nagini attacked, the mortification that he owed his life to a couple of foolhardy Gryffindors; it all crashed through him like a storm. He couldn't remember the last time he'd so thoroughly let himself go. Perhaps when he found Lilly's body, but in his fragile state he couldn't allow himself to dwell on that particular memory.
He was so lost in his mind that he didn't hear the voice until it had been calling for quite some time. "Severus? Severus, my dear boy."
He pulled from his reverie with a great jerk, searching for the source. Most portraits were politely regarding one another (sneaking glances at the man), but one addressed him directly. Severus chastised himself for not recognizing that voice instantly. "Yes, Albus?"
"Rumor has it we've succeeded."
"Indeed." Severus sighed.
"And our boy survives?" Albus was hopeful.
"Your boy. Yes, Potter is alive." He rolled his eyes at an infuriating smile that the portrait gave him.
"I hope both of my boys will finally get some peace." Albus reasoned. "You've returned to your office? I hope you plan to stay with Hogwarts."
"If I do, it will be in my laboratory. This has always been your office, Albus. Soon it will be Minerva's. I have no business running this school." He insisted.
"That's a shame. I'm certain that under… I think, brighter conditions, you'd have made a legendary Headmaster. Not to doubt dear Minerva, of course. She'll earn a place in history books, as well." There was a slight pause. "I'm very glad to hear she wasn't a casualty. Have we suffered many?"
Severus braced himself. He wouldn't let them see him cry again, even if they were only imitations of the deceased. "No, not many, just over fifty. Nothing compared to how we handled them. Molly Weasley disposed of Bellatrix Lestrange."
Albus looked fierce with pride. "The strength of that woman –"
Severus had to interrupt. "After Rookwood killed Fred Weasley."
The mood became very grave, very quickly. "Fred, you say?"
Severus nodded.
"Too young. Much too young." There was a long silence before the former Headmaster spoke again. "Tell me, who else?"
"Colin Creevey. Lavender Brown. Septima Vector. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks are both in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey's prognosis for the two is a state similar to Frank and Alice Longbottom." The words nearly slid from his mouth. In his exhaustion, Severus lost his will to craft or care for his sentences.
Albus' eyes were lightly closed, tired. "Their son?"
"Safe, at home with his grandmother."
"See to it, in the years to come, he looks to Neville as a mentor." The elder allowed himself a hint of a smile. "I see I'm still doling out orders to you. You are, of course, free to act as you wish. Your duty to the Order and myself has been well beyond fulfilled."
Severus didn't know how to feel about this. A good part of him wanted to head for the hills with that permission – to flee and never see Hogwarts again. Never walk this ruin. Stop reliving the memories. He ached for relief from the memories. However, a stronger part contemplated sharing with Albus what he'd been feeling most recently. It came to him that he wasn't only working on an aged promise. As the war waged on, he felt like less of a pawn and more of a soldier. He found himself believing in the Order's cause.
It was a troubling subject, so he stayed safely silent.
"I'm proud of you, Severus." Albus spoke softly. Severus realized that his concentration had probably – albeit correctly – been mistaken for emotional frailty.
He looked up, quite slowly. "I'm only saying this once, Albus. Listen: I miss you."
Quite unexpectedly, a tear ran down the portrait's face. "I miss you, my boy. Know that. I'm still with you, Severus."
The younger man had to choke back a sob. He gave a curt nod. "Well, then… yes. I'll be excusing myself, now –"
Albus stopped him. "There is a matter I need to discuss with you. Do you have a moment?"
Severus looked up again.
"I trust the castle is in a degree of ruin?"
He sighed. "That would be an understatement. To renew the wards, rebuild, and clean should keep a good portion of us busy until September first. I suspect areas of the castle may still be in progress, even then."
"And where do you plan on staying, during this?" There was something less than mischief, but more than curiosity in the old man's voice. It worried Severus.
"My dungeons will be seen to as soon as possible. I'll make sure of it." Severus reasoned.
"You're smarter than that, Severus. With weak wards, directly after a war, is that truly a safe choice?" Albus chided.
"I've delt with dangerous choices, Albus, as I'm sure you recall."
"I hope you realize how truly Gryffindor you sound."
Severus felt a bit of vomit rise in the back of his throat. "What suggestion do you have? My home at Spinner's End has even less to protect me from rouge Death Eaters. I'm not trying to be brave," he spit the word like a taste of sour milk, "I'm being realistic."
"There is one place still protected, possibly more heavily that Hogwarts at this point. I'm confident that the owner would take you in, for as long as you need."
"I'm not comfortable staying with your brother, Albus." Severus rejected.
"He fought?" Albus asked, veering from the topic for a moment.
"Not only. He took in Potter, Weasley, and Granger when they were foolishly walking the streets of Hogsmede. He's also been feeding your little student army."
"I have quite a but of unfinished business with my brother, one of my strongest regrets. I hope that you will sometime soon ask him to pay me a visit?"
"Of course." Severus agreed.
Albus took a moment to regain himself. "I didn't mean Aberforth, in terms of your housing. I suggest you confer with the owner of 12, Grimmauld Place."
Severus found himself bearing the incredible urge to laugh. "You want me to live with Potter? This is surely not an fitting time to joke."
"Then you should be all the more aware that I'm not, in fact, kidding. You have nowhere to stay. Harry has a large, safe house. It is less than ideal, but I'm not requesting a friendship, or even kindness. Civility would do. It's only a roof for the summer. Think about it." Albus was somewhat insistent.
"I'll see." Severus didn't even attempt to hide the implication that he would not inquire. "I've been holed in here for too long. I'm sure suspicions are already being raised about me. I've got to go, Albus, but I'll be back soon."
Albus gave a soft smile as the Potions Master left the office.
Severus took the hall at such a fast pace that he nearly trampled a boy waiting outside his office. The two made eye contact, and Severus cursed what he was sure was Albus' otherworldly interference – he collided with one Harry James Potter.
"Potter. Inconveniently under my feet, as always."
"Professor. Always a pleasure."
Severus rolled his eyes and continued.
"Wait! I was hoping to have a word." Potter called.
Severus didn't do him the honor of turning around, but he did reply. "Yes?"
The boy caught up. "When you have a moment, I'd like to speak with you."
"Ah, but one of the many benefits of this war coming to a close was that I'd never have to interact with you again. Don't tell me you aren't just as eager." Severus said, maintaining his quick pace.
"There are quite a few things you owe me an explanation for, and I've got things to say, as well." Potter explained.
This stopped Severus short. "I don't believe I owe you anything."
The boy sighed. "That didn't come out right. Just… things I'd really like to know. If you have any time at all."
"Look around you. The castle is in pieces. Just because you've done away with Voldemort doesn't mean the world is to your beck and call." Severus chided.
"I never said that!" Potter insisted. "Would you stop with the threats and insults for ten seconds? I'm asking for a simple conversation."
"Unfortunately, I won't have the time." Severus resumed walking.
"I could speak with you while you work?" Potter offered.
"Highly unrealistic. Do you not have any more autographs to sign?" Severus taunted.
"I finished those a while ago. I don't have yours on me, unfortunately." Harry said with a smirk.
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Ten po-"
"I'm not a student." Harry reminded.
"Do you really think infuriating me further is a good tactic?" questioned Severus. He took advantage of the boy's faltering to gain a few strides in distance.
"I told Hermione to turn back, you know." Harry offered.
"So it was your fault I was spared the mercy of death? I'll be sending out the thank-you note shortly."
"Don't pretend you're suicidal."
"Don't pretend you care."
"I'm not."
"Then stop speaking to me."
"I can't."
"Potter, I swear –"
"Fine!" Potter nearly yelled, causing Severus to stop again. "You want to know what this is about? If the boy-who-lived were to grovel at your feet and beg, would it please you enough to grant him a short audience? I'll do it, you know. I'll beg." He had a fierce determination in his eyes that Severus hadn't before seen. It didn't reflect on the older man's face, but it was disconcerting, to say the least. "You knew my mum before Hogwarts, and you were good friends, from what I can tell. Everything I know about her is from Remus, Sirius, or Dumbledore – as a mate's girlfriend, or as a student. I know the facts, but I don't know her. To be honest, it kills me that you do. She was my mum, after all. From what I saw in the pensive, I gather that you cared about her. For Lily's sake then? I don't want your memories, just… what she was like. Please."
Severus pinched the bridge of his long nose. Another day he might have hexed the brat and left. His time with Lily was special, and he had no intention of sharing it with James Potter's carbon copy. However, the last thing Potter said struck a chord. Lily would be appalled to know he denied the boy a small discussion. In fact, if he could concentrate just a bit harder, he could faintly hear her voice in his head, urging him on. He spoke before he could change his mind. "It would be prudent to conduct this conversation – that you insist on having – in a more private setting."
The way Potter's eyes lit up was nearly revolting. "Thank you, sir!"
"I'll expect you in the Headmaster's office this evening, nine o'clock. By then those who are actually working, not tracking down former professors in empty halls, should be finished for the day. There will be no discussion if you are late." Severus warned.
"Of course." Potter nodded, fervent. "Thank you, again!" The boy headed in the opposite direction.
Severus spoke under his breath. He couldn't do without correcting Potter's mistake. "Care about her, not cared."
The younger heard the mumble and turned. "Sorry?"
Severus offered no reply. He persisted down the shattered hall, robes billowing above the rubble.