CHAPTER 2

What a strange feeling it was to enter Hogwarts in the afternoon, knowing that it would be packed with students later in the evening. That, and the fact that he, Harry Potter, would be sitting at the staff table with the eminent Albus Dumbledore and other wizards and witches – his former teachers, all of them years older than he was – were starting to give him a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was still a teenager, after all, and this was a big step for him. The surroundings were familiar and yet completely defamiliarised. The whole situation seemed as unbelievable as the time Hagrid had told him that he, an eleven-year-old little boy bullied hourly by the Dursleys, was a wizard. The Dursleys. How happy they had been to see the back of him on his seventeenth birthday.

"Harry Potter is back! We was dying to see Harry Potter!"

Harry grinned widely.

"Dobby!"

The house-elf beamed at him. He was wearing one of Mrs Weasley's jumpers (maroon), a jarringly green tea cosy on his head (tipped at a rakish angle) and odd socks, one blue, the other yellow.

"Professor Potter!" he squeaked.

Harry went a bit red.

"It sounds so odd…Professor Potter. I'm simply…Harry."

"So modest he is!" Dobby raised his hands to heaven in an expression of epiphanic realisation.

Harry laughed.

"Let me show the Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named his quarters, spotless and thoroughly aired out, brand-new furnishing…"

Harry had to nearly run to keep up with his enthusiastic friend.

His office and adjoining rooms were of huge dimensions and made him blink a few times in rapid succession. Wooden furniture with intricate carvings, a gigantic four-poster bed in the bedroom, a bathroom which was even more chic than the one the prefects enjoyed, small pictures of magical artefacts on the walls, herringbone parquet, lush Persian carpets, a fireplace, an enamel bowl containing Floo powder, tons of shelves for his books, cupboards and commodes en masse, a gleaming perch for an enthusiastic Hedwig…

"Wow!" he breathed.

Dobby hovered anxiously near him.

"Is everything to Harry Potter's taste?"

"Dobby, this is absolutely smashing. Amazing. Overwhelming."

The elf broke into a triumphant screech and scooted out of the office, hooting down the corridor and singing Harry's praises at the top of his voice.

After unpacking and dressing for the Sorting Hat Ceremony and following feast, Harry left his fascinating rooms to see whether he would meet a familiar face before attending the official business.

He was strolling along a corridor when he suddenly got the impression of being watched. He turned around and found himself facing none other than his enigmatic nemesis, the Potions Master Severus Snape.

Black hair, longer than ever, reaching till the small of his back. The oiliness coating the thick strands gone after Voldemort's downfall, the teeth white, but the cynicism still carved in his face, the unhealthy thinness still there together with the trademark sneer. And the hooked nose, radiating arrogance and disdain for the world. The thin lips ready to emit a caustic utterance. Not a handsome man, but not altogether lacking in appearance either. Overall, he looked rather forbidding because of his surliness.

"Potter." Silky smooth voice, subtle and soft, just like the way he moved.

"Snape." Expressionless tone. Green eyes and black eyes probing each other, Snape's dislike and frostiness evident. But Harry had matured a lot. He had been forced to do so, what with having Voldemort as an enemy and working together with skilled adult wizards besides his faithful friends Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the rest of the DA. Working with Snape, doing so reluctantly, never really trusting him.

"Well, well. What a pleasant surprise." Scornful curling of the lip.

"Ah, there you are, Severus and Harry."

The two wizards interrupted their eye-battle, directing their attention towards the majestic headmaster, who, with his usual lightning-fast perception, had summed up the tense situation within a second.

"Now, my dear boys. You fought against Voldemort together. I am sure you will be able to live together in the same building as well," Dumbledore observed mildly.

Snape's face remained unchanged.

"I am going to strengthen the wards around my quarters. If you need something from my store cupboards, Potter, it would be a good idea to ask instead of helping yourself liberally without permission. But then, it may be not be such a good idea at all."

He strode away with a sour sneer.

Dumbledore stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Ah, Severus, Severus," he murmured. Harry remained silent. He had mixed feelings about the former Death Easter and everyone's most despised teacher.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, my dear boy," he addressed Harry courteously, putting his arm around the young man's shoulders.

"It's wonderful to be back here, Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Professor? Albus, Harry."

Harry smiled.

"I'll always have a lot to learn besides teaching."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily.

"Excellent attitude, Harry. I think that the students will be arriving any moment…Let's go."

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