Harry Potter sat alone in his cabin. The entire point behind secluding himself in the forest was exactly that, seclusion. After the war and his break-up with Ginny, he wanted nothing to do with the world around him. Unfortunately, the Hogwarts owl perched on a tree limb outside the window was enough to tell the 25 year-old that his peaceful life was over with. Biting back a sigh, he drew his wand from the holster around his forearm and waved it, watching as the window slid open and the owl flew inside. The bird deposited the letter on the table and landed on his shoulder, earning a soft huff and a scratch on the neck from the young man. Leave it to McGonagall to send an owl and demand that it waits for a response, Harry thought bitterly to himself.

Grumbling softly about "crazy old women," he peeled open the envelope, carefully setting it aside as he unfolded the parchment.

"Mr. Potter,"

Harry scoffed at this, shaking his head slightly. He could practically hear the short, snappiness of her voice. He could always hear the love behind that voice, though, and found himself smiling fondly at his memories of Hogwarts.

"It has come to my attention, as of recent, that it has been two years since you've been seen. The only indication that you're even living is your occasional letters to Ms. Granger-Weasley and Mr. Weasley. While I understand a few months of peace, I am very disappointed in you for worrying the people that care about you."

Harry found himself grimacing slightly. He hadn't thought about his absence hurting anyone. He knew his friends understood, but he'd forgotten about the teachers and peers he'd been close to. Now that he thought about it, he really should have owled them at least once or twice. Maybe a visit would make up for it...

"With such in mind, I took it upon myself to assign you the position of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor for the approaching year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are expected a week before the first semester begins. Contact me, or my deputy headmaster, Professor Snape, if you have any questions. Sincerely, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall"

He set the letter down and began massaging his temples, groaning slightly as he felt a headache coming on. Snape, deputy headmaster? Of course, this wasn't terribly surprising, the man was very responsible. No, that wasn't nearly as upsetting as his old Head of House manipulating him with as much finesse as Albus Dumbledore himself. He didn't have a choice, really. He could only imagine the fuss that would occur if he didn't show. Giving in to the inevitable, he summoned some parchment and a quill, letting out a sigh and starting to write.

"Headmistress McGonagall,"

He choked down some laughter at the formality. The woman had practically been a grandmother to him. In fact, he could probably address her as "Gran-gran" and get away with it. The image of her flustered reaction led to a bout of sputtering chuckles.

"I clearly have no choice in this, so I will arrive at Hogwarts within a week's time if there are no unforeseen circumstances. I request my students of every year be required to purchase the book I wrote under an alias, Magical and Physical Defense. Inform Professor Snape that I request a weekly and steady supply of strong headache potions and Dreamless Sleep, or at least the ingredients as I will be away from my garden and lab. I look forward to seeing you again. Harry Potter."

He rolled the parchment neatly and held it out to the owl along with some treats for the creature. "Snack on those for a second, I need one more thing," he murmured, standing and heading to the kitchen. He dug through the cabinet and pulled out a small baggie of lemon drops, tied with a red and gold ribbon. A soft smile on his lips, he extended it for the owl to take and watched as it flew off. This would be a very interesting year.

Harry sank down on his bed, letting out a long sigh. He'd been planning his week and packing his bags for the past few hours. Tomorrow morning, he'd finish washing his clothes and pack them, and then make his way to number 12 Grimmauld Place. Then, if he still had time, he'd go shopping for better robes and supplies for the school year. Even if he may only teach for a year, he wanted to leave a great impression as a DADA teacher, unlike many others before him.

Now, however, he was reminiscing, as he always did when reminders of his past were presented to him. This time, his only thoughts were of Severus Snape.

The last time he'd seen or spoken to the man was at the Battle of Hogwarts. Of course, this was a mutual decision, as it would be far too awkward for both of them. After all, they'd saved each other's lives. He didn't regret doing it, but they both had a reputation as enemies to keep up.

He could hear Voldemort talking to Snape, feeling his heart plummet. He knew, he knew Snape was a traitor, and he'd kill the man. It didn't take a genius to realize the potions professor was a spy for Dumbledore, and Harry thankfully had. His heart pounding in his chest, he pushed all common sense aside and charged into the room.

Both the Dark Lord and his traitor were shocked at the Boy-Who-Lived, but Harry didn't give them time to think. He saw Nagini ready to strike, and flung himself between Snape and the poisonous serpent. He shuddered, feeling the fangs pierce his throat. He slumped to the ground, barely hearing Snape's angry curses accompanied by his own name. He could, however, hear Voldemort laughing. "How touching, the traitor and the savior, each to die in another's arms. And here I thought killing Harry Potter would be difficult…" The dark wizard sneered.

Harry closed his eyes, reaching out and grasping the snake. Before it could turn to bite him again, the creature burst into flames as he murmured the simple word "fire." Appalled by what had just happened, the Dark Lord stumbled backwards slightly. He could feel Snape's surprise as well, and reached out to the man. Weakly, he forced his heavy eyelids open.

"Professor," he had whispered, able to hear how hoarse his voice was, able to taste the blood filling his mouth and dripping from his lips. "Y..you have to kill him. He's mortal now...you have to do it..he hasn't a horcrux left.." Despite the agony, Harry Potter smiled. "Do something for me for once in your life, you greasy git…" And everything had gone black.

When Harry had woken in the professor's potions lab, he was sure he'd gone to Hell. He had never believed in such a place, but this had to be it. Not because of where he was, but because of the pain. It was like every nerve in his body was on fire. If he wasn't so exhausted, he'd be screaming his head of and writhing. Instead, he settled on letting his arms twitch on the cold, stone table.

The man he'd saved stepped into his sight, the classic sneer gone from his face. In those cold black eyes, he saw...concern? Worry? Fear? Harry couldn't tell.

"He's dead, Potter. You were right," the man whispered, pulling a chair over and sitting beside the teen. "I always thought you had a death wish, but I never could have dreamed…" Snape's voice shook slightly as he trailed off, but his face was now an emotionless mask. This felt wrong. The git was supposed to be mocking him, harassing him, not..not being civil with him.

Harry wanted to cry or scream, but instead, he chuckled quietly. "My whole existence was a death wish, Snape," he mumbled, reaching up feebly to rub the sleep from his eyes. "...how am I alive, anyway? The venom..I couldn't be…"

Slight shock and pain showed in Snape's eyes, but he schooled his expression quickly. "You fool...like I would honestly let you die…"

Harry shivered, laying down under the covers. The days following that conversation had been completely silent, only involving rest and regaining strength before his friends came to retrieve him. He'd wanted more than anything to talk to the man again, but he could never think of the right words. No pain potion had been able to quell the pain in his heart following those days.