This story was originally posted on my other account - SnowCrazy15 - I have moved it to this account. I have NOT stolen this story.

Title: Familiarity Over Uncertainty
Disclaimer: J.K Rowling and associates own these characters and universe. I am writing this for fun and make no profit from it.
Pairing: Future HP/DM with other canon pairings.
Rating: Rated M for swearing, violence, and sex.
Content Notes: Torture, Death, Blood, Gore, Swearing, Injury, Pain, Comfort, Sex.
Summary: Harry cannot face the Wizarding World after reliving the most painful memories of his past and seeks shelter within the familiarity of Hogwarts. In a bid to stay, he begins an unlikely career as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He did not expect Draco Malfoy to be the new Potions Master, however. How can he forgive who Malfoy was and accept that the boy he once hated has changed? Can they find an uneasy alliance or will their dappled past always be a barrier between them? Author's Notes: So this story is kind of feeding my nostalgia of going back to Hogwarts, although approaching it through an adult's eyes. It will be a slow burn story because both Harry and Draco have some skeletons in the closet that they're not quite ready to face. There will (hopefully) be M-Rated content in later chapters. Please see my profile for updates on this story.

Familiarity Over Uncertainty

Chapter One

"Calm yourself, Mr Potter."

Harry could feel the tension crackling in the room, along with a lick of his magic that made the window panes shudder warningly. The muscles in his jaw were so tight that they cried out, but he didn't grant them relief. Instead, he flopped unceremoniously onto the chair opposite the calm frame of Professor McGonagall –

Harry inwardly winced before correcting himself. Headmistress McGonagall.

He sighed heavily and covered his eyes with his left hand whilst his right hand clung to his wand like a life-line. He could feel the crusted blood on his face and the slight bite of pain on his hip. He didn't doubt that he looked as bad as he felt.

"Now, Harry, tell me what happened."

Her soft yet commanding tone caused the Auror to look up instinctively as the horrors of the night flew past his open eyes. He could still feel the nails raking down his arm, hear the scream in his head…

A breeze stirred the air around them and he saw McGonagall shift in her chair. His attention was caught by the office he was in.

So much of it was familiar, and yet, so very different.

The office now occupied by Minerva hadn't changed much from the last time he was in there. Of course, some of Dumbledore's trinkets had been replaced with Minerva's, along with some portraits. They were all watching him ominously, and as he caught a glimpse of bright blue eyes and white hair, he looked down. His hands wrapped around themselves as he fought down the rage barely contained under his skin.

"I… was betrayed," he breathed, his voice hoarse from screaming.

McGonagall's eyes softened and he felt a rush of affection for his former professor. She had always been nice to him, so much so that he considered her a branch in his somewhat twisted family tree.

Soft hands reached over and placed themselves on his forearm. He covered her lined fingers with his own but recoiled when he saw the blood and dirt smeared across them.

"Harry," she cooed, so lightly he barely heard her. Tears stung at his eyes and he forced himself to his feet, too restless and angry to let them show.

McGonagall didn't move, instead, she kept watching him with a neutral expression, although he could see the sympathy in her eyes.

"H – Harris, he… he sold me out. We were on this case for months. Some Necromancer was terrorising Muggles, bringing them from graves and trying to start some damn apocalypse. He was a slimy bastard and always seemed to be one step ahead of us. But it was all a fucking lie, just a bloody rouse to draw me out and away from the boundaries of the Ministry… Harris, he – he…"

The words caught in his throat and he choked back a sob. As his knees buckled, warmth and black robes enveloped him.

McGonagall's words were lost on him as he drowned in the memories.

Yes, the Necromancer had turned out to be a former Death Eater and had lured Harry to the same fucking graveyard he was in eleven years ago. He had been with Auror Katie Bell as his partner of four years, Luke Harris, had disappeared. Harry and Katie had been looking over his notes when an owl had swooped into his office bearing a letter and a button from the shirt Harris had been wearing the last time Harry had seen him. It was smeared in blood.

The letter had contained some threat or another, and fearing for Harris's life, Harry touched the button. Katie barely grabbed his arm before they were Portkeyed to that graveyard.

As soon as he saw it, Harry realised his mistake. But it was too late.

"Come on, Harry," soothed Minerva, slowly drawing him from the memories. He felt his throat stinging and his nose uncomfortably stuffed, signs that he had been crying. Part of his brain told him he should stop being such a baby, but everything was just too fresh.

He felt himself being guided across the floor, barely registering the direction before a flurry of activity caused him to look up.

Suddenly he was a teenager again, being rushed into the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. Madame Pomfrey bristled at the sudden disturbance but stopped dead when she saw who was clutching to the Headmistress.

He barely heard her whisper his name before his legs failed him again. Sadly, he was no match for the two startled witches and crashed to the ground in an undignified lump.

"Good timing, Potter."

Harry spun his head around, searching for immediate danger. His wand swayed with him before finally falling on the figure before him.

"Harris, everything alright?"

But he wasn't alright. The maniacal smirk on his face didn't suit the man Harry had worked side-by-side with for four years. The usually pristine brown hair was sticking out wildly, his robes were torn and dirty. Chills rolled up Harry's spine before he heard the bark of a spell to his right. Katie was already rolling away, dodging Harris's hex.

But Harry was rooted to the spot. All he could see was the tombstone he had been imprisoned in all those years ago. He felt the bite of pain on his arm where he would forever bare the scar that brought Voldemort back to life. Now it was happening again. He was back again. The Dark fucker would never die. He was destined to be haunted by the vicious lunatic until the day he died. Harry felt the panic grab his throat and his lungs were being crushed.

Only a single cry brought him slamming back into reality.

"Harry!"

He spun on his heel just as Katie fell, brought down by a blue flash. He saw Harris send another hex her way and watched as she writhed in pain.

Then that smile was turned to him. In the second he should have acted, Harry didn't move. Harris didn't hesitate, stunning the Chosen One and sending him sprawling across the dirt.

Even though his body was paralysed, Harry could still see. But he wished what he saw was nothing but a nightmare. It felt like a nightmare, but the cold seeping into him from the muddy ground was too real.

Harris walked casually forward, almost sauntering. He knelt by the bound Saviour and snatched his wand up greedily.

"Oh, Potter… this must be horrible for you, mustn't it? I could only imagine what it's like being brought here again. Oh, and isn't that the place dear old Diggory died?"

Harry couldn't help but follow Harris's line of sight to where Katie lay. He felt anger flush his system, but all it did was colour his cheeks. Harris turned his spiteful gaze back to Harry, who could do nothing but glare.

"I've got something to show you, Potter."

Fear uncoiled in his stomach as Harris slowly reached the cuff of his shirt, rolling it up with a grin.

Harry's stomach dropped as he saw it. Dark and ugly against the skin, squirming in glee at his obvious distress. It was something he could never forget, nor would he want to. It branded people a traitor, a murderer, scum. And Harry couldn't believe how blind he had been.

Harris wore the Dark Mark.

"Shush, he's waking up. Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"

The voice was like a rush of pure joy, ringing through him and drawing him quickly from the deep recesses of his mind. He opened his eyes and felt a faint smile tug at his lips.

"Hermione?"

The sight was so familiar it left him reeling. Hermione looking down at him, Ron leaning against the wall. The bright ceilings and a faint tang of medicine in the air. The crisp sheets. He could almost laugh.

Instead, Harry choked out a sob.

Hermione jumped forward and wound herself around his neck. He felt her shoulders being wracked with sobs and heard her babbling something incoherent into his neck. All he could do was hold her, squeezing the comfort from her and absorbing her strength. He felt a strong hand on his right shoulder and he knew Ron was there, offering his own strength. It was so ridiculous, lying in the Hospital Wing, being comforted by his best friends.

He never guessed it would ever happen again in his life. Just like he never expected to go back to that graveyard. It seemed like Fate was sneering at him, forcing him to relive his most bittersweet moments.

Harry gasped as he felt something catching him in the ribs. He frowned before Hermione pulled back, rubbing furiously at her ridiculously swollen belly.

Harry sniffed and gave her a small smile.

"He's got quite a kick," he said teasingly, although his voice was so rough and forced that he winced. Hermione smiled through her tears before looking down at her bump.

"She. We found out yesterday it's a girl."

Harry nodded as his eyes filled again. "That's amazing."

He turned to Ron whose eyes had gone suspiciously red, matching his flaming hair. Suddenly it was too much. Looking at Ron, he knew just how close he had come to losing everything.

A new wave of grief swept over him, and his friends were there again, lending their strength when words all but failed.

Ron and Hermione stayed with him, even when Pomfrey forced another sleeping potion down his gob. His dreams moulded together, forcing him to relive both horrendous experiences in the graveyard, one after the other until they moulded together and Harris was dancing around Voldemort.

Finally, he roused himself completely, unable to lie in his dosed-up state.

That was when Kingsley marched through the doors.

"Harry," he said apologetically, although he seemed uncomfortable. Harry had forced Hermione to go home, but she only did so when she made Ron promise to stay.

Ron was draped in a chair by his side, snoring loudly.

Harry nodded towards the other chair on his other side, which Kingsley looked at briefly but didn't take. Instead, he started pacing.

"Harry, I –"

"Did you get him? Did you get Harris?"

Kingsley's face darkened, but he nodded grimly. "Dementors got him. He's getting the Kiss."

Harry's one brief nod was all he had to convey his satisfaction. It was more mercy than the bastard deserved. Harry would have gladly flayed him alive.

"Katie's funeral is tomorrow if-"

Harry had to raise a hand to stop the man from talking because he couldn't find his voice. His tongue was heavy and his eyes burned, and it took all his strength to steady himself.

"I'm not coming back."

Kingsley started, staring at Harry as if he had confessed he was Voldemort.

"Harry, you cant just-"

"Oh yes, I fucking can. Don't you dare try and convince me back into that office. Don't you dare."

Harry's angered voice roused Ron from his sleep, leaving the redhead to look around blearily. He seemed to pick up on the immediate tension and drew his wand instinctively.

"What's going on?"

Kingsley turned to Ron as if noticing him for the first time.

"Potter's quitting."

Kingsley's tone was obviously seeking Ron's support in convincing Harry to stay with the Aurors, but Ron just nodded.

"Yeah. I don't blame him."

Harry shot his friend a grateful look before setting his icy gaze back to the Head Auror. But Kingsley wasn't done fighting.

"Harry, I know what happened was horrible but you can't just quit! What happened to the Saviour of the Wizarding World?"

Harry's face twisted into a sneer and there was a definite rush of magic in the air.

"He left when you let a Death Eater into the Aurors."

The insult stung and Harry saw a flash of anger in Kingsley's dark eyes.

"If you leave now, Potter, don't ever expect to be welcomed back."

Harry's look was all the confirmation the Head Auror needed. With a frustrated grunt, Kingsley turned and marched from the room. As soon as he saw the figure leave, Harry sagged into the mattress, suddenly overwhelmed.

The weight of Ron's hand on his shoulder was reassuring, and he let Ron's presence support him before a noise to his right drew his attention.

Harry's heart dropped as Ginny smiled at him sadly.

"Hello, Harry."

The wind billowed past him, soothing his heated skin as the sun bore down mercilessly. He glanced to the side where Ginny walked beside him silently.

Her hair was longer, almost past her shoulder blades and it was now lined with lighter tones of red. Her skin was now a becoming gold, spreading the freckles on her cheeks evenly and making her look even more beautiful. He felt his heart bounce uneasily inside him, but he stayed quiet, not knowing what to say.

The grounds of Hogwarts spread around him and he took a deep breath, feeling more settled than he had in days.

"So… how was Romania?"

She kept her eyes down as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nice."

Harry felt himself sigh before looking out at the grounds again. They were walking slowly down the path that led to the lake, basking in the late summer sun. yet somehow, Harry felt a chill.

"Harry, I heard what happened."

His jaw tightened before he nodded curtly, not wanting to think about it.

"Are you… alright?"

He glanced upwards to see that she had stopped before him. Her eyes glittered, standing out like emeralds in the soft curves of her face. Her hair was windswept and he noticed that she had grown in the two years she had been away. The light white dress she wore hugged her comfortably and Harry was suddenly swept in a memory of a time when he craved comfort in her curved hips.

He looked away.

"I'm fine."

"Harry," she breathed, her tone touching his heart. Harry felt his resolve slip as he looked back up into her face. She hadn't changed. She was still his Ginny.

And for a moment, when his grief swept over him and he couldn't breathe, he let himself hold her like he used to. She was petite and warm and he could have so easily given into the breathy sighs. He felt her head angle in that familiar twist, and he knew that if he gave in he would be lost. So instead he stepped from her embrace, before being struck with a jolt of cold.

Ginny worried her lower lip but nodded as if she knew that she was pushing the boundaries.

So instead of talking about the horrors of his life, Harry steered the conversation to her adventures in Romania with Charlie and George. She talked about her brothers openly, but her features were marred with sadness when she mentioned George.

"He's… better. Learning to live with it."

Harry nodded and didn't stop her as she turned the conversation to Hermione. They talked about the pregnancy and even smiled when she gushed about the baby being a girl.

When they reached the lake, they found a space to sit. As the sun started to dip and Harry's head started to throb, Ginny got to her feet.

"Well, I should go."

He nodded and gave her a ghost of a smile. Before he could protest, Ginny leant up and gently kissed the corner of his mouth. Her eyes were sad as she ruffled his hair playfully.

"You'll be OK, Harry. You always are."

And even though the words should have been comforting, they left Harry feeling somewhat hollow.

"Yer been 'ere for two weeks now, 'Arry. What're yer going to do?"

Harry sighed before accepting the gargantuan mug from Hagrid. The hut smelled like it always did – wet dog, dirt and hay mixed with something sweet. He leant back in the chair, shrugging as Hagrid's bulk planted itself in the opposite chair.

"I don't know, Hagrid. I don't want to go back to London. Just thinking about it makes me…" He shrugged again.

Hagrid gave him a nod before taking a gulp of his tea. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the last of the summer heat.

Harry didn't know why he was still at Hogwarts. He didn't even really know why he had come in the first place. As soon as the Aurors had come to the graveyard, it had been too late to save Katie and Harry wasn't much better. When he saw Harris on his knees, he Apparated to the first place that came to mind.

Only when he looked up at the eagle statue guarding the stairs did he know where he was. The wards protecting Hogwarts were ringing loudly at his intrusion and he had been momentarily thrown. Then McGonagall was there and he was being ushered up the stairs to her office.

Harry took a calming gulp of the tea. It was sweet and had a hint of something that he couldn't quite place. Lavender? Jasmine?

"I quit my job."

Hagrid didn't look surprised as he regarded him. He just nodded, as if it was expected. The patient look under the bushy beard was a little unnerving, but then seeing Hagrid with silver streaks in his hair was unnerving. Harry still couldn't believe that it had been six years since Hogwarts was the centre of a war. Part of him had vowed never to return. There was too much death, too many memories. And yet, here he was.

He was damned to loathe and love the castle with every inch of his being.

And even at twenty-six years old, Harry was hiding in the school's embrace, almost as if he had never left.

Then, as if by some divine intervention, an idea came to his mind. He chugged his tea and muttered something incoherent to the Magical Creature's teacher before bolting from the hut and towards the towering walls that may hold the answer to Harry's longing.

"So you're saying that you want to stay?"

Harry nodded, clenching and unclenching his fists in quick succession. Now that he had voiced his idea out loud, the weight of their foolishness pressed on him.

"And do what, exactly?" asked the Headmistress calmly.

He shrugged. "Teaching, assisting – hell, I'll even help Filch."

That got a small smile from her, easing Harry's anxiety somewhat. Then her face dropped and hardened, and Harry felt his stomach sink.

"Harry…"

He watched her hopefully, attempting not to make himself look as desperate as he felt.

He didn't want to leave. Being back in the school's embrace, smelling the familiar scents, hearing the natural hum of magic in the walls, it was everything he wanted. Hogwarts had always felt like home, and only being away had made that realisation possible.

Maybe he was hiding from his life, but he'd be damned if he didn't think he deserved a little hiding.

He heard a small sigh from Minerva before she turned her stern look on him. Harry smiled as he saw the familiar lightening of her eyes, the small quip of her lips. He recognised that look.

"Fine. In all honesty, Neville is an atrocious Defence teacher and he's been edging towards the Herbology position for months now. All I have to do is try and get Poppy to share the position since 'retirement' isn't in her vocabulary."

Harry's smile cracked his jaw. Before he could really think about it, he had thrown himself at the Headmistress.

Minerva tolerated the attack for a brief moment before shooing him away.

She sat behind her desk, urging him to take the opposing seat, her face set for a serious business transition.

"Although teaching at this school isn't what it appears, Mr Potter. You have to know your subject through and through, learn to devise and plan lessons and homework. You need to be as dedicated to this job unlike any other. Are you prepared for that?"

Her eyes were serious, but Harry nodded. He was no stranger to complete devotion, a notion that apparently wasn't lost on the Ministry.

Minerva's eyes searched his for a moment before deciding something. She turned to the portrait to her immediate left. It was a rather portly woman who was sat at a table, drinking tea and talking to the dog by her ankle.

"Geneva, will you please get the potions master?"

The woman got resolutely to her feet before disappearing from the frame.

Harry studied her openly. He had wondered who the next potions master would be but decided that no one would be as ruthless or as thorough as Snape. Harry both recoiled and warmed to the memory.

That was until the door to the office swung open and a figure clad in black swooped in like a predator.

"Minerva, I told you that the potion wouldn't be-"

Their eyes locked and Harry felt his heart hit his ass.

"Potter?"

Harry set his jaw into a sneer. "Malfoy."