Author's note: Here is, in a timely fashion, chapter two. With the significantly shorter chapters in this version, hopefully this sort of interval will be the typical one between updates.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! As always, you guys make my day. This chapter is dedicated to two of my reviewers—to HappyBunny6678, for correctly guessing the quote I used in this story's summary, and to Ichihime, for pointing out that Ravenclaw's mascot is not, like I wrote in last chapter, actually a raven, but rather an eagle. Sorry for the mistake. . Thanks also to everyone who added this story to their story alerts or favorites.

On with chapter two. :)

When Severus Snape had returned to Hogwarts, he had not done it for the sake of returning to an old sanctuary, or out of any inclination to teach bothersome brats once again; he had done it for survival.

The ending of the war against Voldemort had been, in many ways, the start of a new era for the Wizarding World. From the bleakness of the Death Eater threat had come a mass looking forward to new opportunities, to half-forgotten freedoms, to a better life. So it was that in the wake of Voldemort, an almost naïve sort of idealism had grown—more importantly, the wizarding population of Britain had grown up around it, the excitable mob of the general populace rapidly forming an unstoppable force which would do anything to protect the bright new horizon they saw forming in their future.

Severus, too, had felt that relief even more acutely than most. The end of the Dark Lord meant an end to the spying, to the necessity of double dealing, to the hopeless end Severus had always expected. The final battle had not ended painlessly for Severus—as Potter had finally put his damnable stubbornness to use, returning even from death to deal the fatal blow to the Dark Lord, Severus had been bleeding on the floor of a dusty shack, nearly dead himself. Only a combination of foresightedness and Potter's irritating persistence had saved Snape, in the end; had he not been carrying a vial of anti-venom created to negate Nagini's poison, or had Potter not thought to gasp out a reminder of his injury before giving in to exhaustion, Severus could very well have bled out alone in the Shrieking Shack. As things had occurred, he had woken a week later in Hogwarts' hospital wing with only a scarred neck to mark his near demise, and had been free, at last, of the Dark Lord's service.

The first thing Severus had done, once Poppy had cleared him to move about, had been to make the walk to what had once been Albus Dumbledore's office. He had, originally, gone there solely to talk to Minerva McGonagall about taking a year's sabbatical. However, when he'd walked into the office and seen it changed back to what it once had been, Headmistress McGonagall having restored the nonsensical silver instruments to their tables and the proper books to the bookshelves, Severus had known that it was time to leave. He spent two hours in an office which looked very much like a memorial to the late Albus Dumbledore, explaining to Minerva over tea why his resignation was vital, and had left as a former employee of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That was, as far as Severus was concerned, the end of his time at the school—he privately celebrated the fact that he would never be required to beat information into the mind of a recalcitrant teenager again, and would be forever free of Potter's bothersome presence. If he would miss Albus Dumbledore, and the security that Hogwarts had offered, well, Severus would never admit that this were the case, even to himself.

The summer that followed had been one of the best of Severus' life. He had settled in to the house on Spinner's End, if unpacking his bags there and proceeding to leave the house whenever possible could be called settling in. Between the sale of mass produced potions at a local apothecary and the invention of several new ones, Severus had had enough money to keep himself comfortably fed and clothed. That summer had been an exploration into life unfettered by secretiveness for Severus. Each day he read gleefully in the paper as Death Eaters failed to bribe or win their way out of jail, despite old connections and old blood, and each consecutive trial ended in one of Severus' old enemies finding their way to Azkaban prison in irons. Slowly, Severus had learned to sleep through small noises in the night, and had trained himself out of the habit of treating every raised wand as a potential threat. He would always feel uncomfortable without his wand close at hand, and would never sleep well on the rare occasions when he shared his bed with another, but, overall, Severus Snape came the closest to a normal life he had ever been able to.

Then Potter, in some fit of childish pique, had disappeared from the Wizarding World without warning, and everything had changed.

Severus had never been officially pardoned for the crimes he had committed during the war—actually, he'd never formally so much as gone to trial. It had never been necessary. Though he had never seen Potter after that humiliating exchange in what Severus had believed to be his last moments of life, he had always been aware of Potter's growing political strength. Hailed as the savior of the Wizarding World, the brat had, predictably, sucked up the approval of the public. Potter had become front page news, even more so than before—each and every one of Potter's actions had become newsworthy. After so long of hearing idle speculation about such insignificant details such as Potter's preference in food, and, to Severus' horror, undergarments, even the pathetic over-attention paid to Potter's split from the Weasley girl had been a welcome relief. More importantly, though, had been Potter's opinions, which had become near to law in the months after Voldemort's demise. Despite the fact that Severus, with his maudlin display of love for Lily Potter, had given Potter more reason to hate him than ever, Potter had been adamant in his defense of his former Potions Master. For one reason or another, Potter had been determined that the press know of Severus' heroism, of the vital part his spying had played to the war effort, and of his good intentions even in the death of Albus Dumbledore—Severus had found this rather comical at the time, given the fact that Potter himself had wanted to murder Severus personally only a few short months earlier. Still, the Savior of the Wizarding World had declared, loudly and frequently, that Severus Snape was innocent, and so it had become accepted truth. Severus, every bit the practical Slytherin, had been willing to swallow his own dislike for the boy—so long as Potter stayed well away from Severus and guaranteed Severus' survival, Severus was careful to censor his opinions of the boy in public. Without a trial, almost overnight, Severus had gone from villain to hero in the eyes of the Wizarding World, and, better, he could almost ignore that it was entirely due to Potter's influence.

When Potter had disappeared, he had taken that opinion with him. For a while, of course, all of the Wizarding World had been up in arms, demanding a world-wide search to return their Savior to them. Only a published letter from Potter, delivered to the Daily Prophet with Hermione Granger acting as the middleman, had been enough to reassure the public. In it, he had spoken of recovering from the final battle, of spending some time amongst friends and away from his adoring public in order to heal. The public had treated this with the cooing acceptance that was to be expected; Severus, who still spoke with a slight rasp from the aftereffects of the venom, was of the opinion that, save for Potter's brief foray into death, he had suffered less than most. Regardless, Potter had vanished into thin air with only a letter left behind and, unsurprisingly, the public soon began to forget about the opinions of their Savior. Out of sight, out of mind did not fail to apply; the longer Potter was absent, the less his views were remembered.

The brief peace had made Severus soft—entirely too much so. Until the night that a brick sailed through his front window, shattering the glass and his sleep at once, Severus had not even been aware that the public had begun to turn against him. That night he had stood, wand furiously clenched in a white-knuckled hand, brick painted to read "DEATH EATER" in green script levitating before him, and had cursed himself for failing to anticipate it. There would always be those who had suffered during his year as Headmaster at Hogwarts, or who had adored Albus Dumbledore to the point of idolization, or had lost a family member to the poisons his position as spy had forced him to brew for the Dark Lord. Perhaps, had Potter remained, those unhappy wizards might have remained forever silent, voices drowned out by the influence of the Wizarding World's Savior; without Potter acting as Severus' shield, Severus was just one man, who had never received an official pardon and still bore the incriminating ink of the Dark Mark on the skin of his left forearm. Severus sincerely doubted that his vigilante enemies would be skilled enough to assassinate him—he was talented enough to defeat the large majority of the wizarding population individually, and doubted they had the organization to attack him as a group—but what they could do was call for a trial. Without Potter there to play his advocate, Severus had no doubt of where that trial would end. He had stood for an hour, looking at the painted brick but contemplating other things, mind racing to secure his freedom as it had been forced to do all too many times in his thirty-eight years of life.

In the end, his only choice of sanctuary had been the one he knew oldest and best. Hogwarts, the shining center of education, recently much popularized by the battles won there and the obvious affection Potter held for the school, had offered Severus a chance to publicly do good. Hogwarts was not traditionally known for harboring political asylum, but it had been Severus' best chance.

Driven by his Slytherin instincts towards survival at all costs, Severus had packed his bags once again and sent a letter to Minerva McGonagall.

…

Though he would not admit it, his letter had amounted, in short, to this: Your help is required, Headmistress. Please tell me you have an available post which will not force me to waste my talents on a class of empty minded teenagers?

Though Minerva McGonagall would never admit it, she had always quietly fostered a sort of fond tolerance for Severus. Her response, in short, had read: This is a school, Severus. You may teach either the teenagers you seem so fond of, or, if you wish, can help lead the Apprenticeship program I intend to reopen. Hogwarts is in need, fortunately, of a Potions Master willing to take on an Apprentice or two.

Though Severus did not hold memories of his own Apprenticeship in a particularly pleasant light, he was well aware that he was hardly in a position to demand another post. His reply had been, simply: When would it be most convenient for me to arrive?

…

The first year of the Apprenticeship program had seen five Masters flock to Hogwarts, Severus among them. All five were extremely overqualified for the first job they were put to; namely, airing out the Apprentice wings, getting to know their new colleagues, and responding to what few letters arrived.

"Don't look so glum," Kennis, the Spell-Shaping Master, had told Severus, a week into the process. The man, who had taken to Severus the first day and clung like a burr ever since, was unshakably cheerful. Had he not been a Master in his field, and a veritable genius on the matter he taught, Severus would have found him entirely insufferable. As it was, he merely found the man bothersome. Severus had dispelled the urge to tell the unpleasantly bright man that he was not in any sense of the word glum, and instead had raised an eyebrow as if to ask what on Earth the man thought he was talking about. Kennis had waved six letters of application before Severus' face. "I just got six applications in today. The program's off to a slow start, but it'll do alright."

Severus had thought of the two letters sitting on his new desk, the only two he had received since the announcement of the program. "Perhaps," he had agreed, reluctantly.

…

The second year had gotten off to a better start. The Apprenticeship program had gone beyond its trial period, and was settling well into the general landscape of Hogwarts' educational system. Five more Masters had joined the teaching staff of the program, diversifying the Apprenticeships available. Severus' highly publicized involvement with the program had kept him, thus far, from the proverbial noose. As opposed to the two Apprentices Severus had taken on the previous year, he had received no fewer than six worthy applications by the last week of July, leaving a few more days before the application process closed altogether. All in all, Severus' life had looked to be improving.

Then, on the second of August, the day before the enrollment had been set to close, Hermione Granger burst into a staff meeting, flushed, out of breath, and carrying a letter in her hand.

"I'm sorry, Headmistress," Granger gasped, managing to keep eye contact with McGonagall even while nearly doubling over. Severus watched her from his uncomfortable chair in the far corner and wondered what could have motivated the usually rule-abiding Granger to make such a disorderly entrance. He thought, too, of the letter of application which sat on his desk back in his room, wondering if he could disqualify Granger's application on a technicality like such disorderliness. He would have to reply to her shortly, and, with each passing day, it seemed alarmingly more likely that he would have to accept the application. "I've just run all the way from the owlery, and I don't mean to intrude." Kennis, who was Granger's appointed Master, grinned at her encouragingly when she met his eyes briefly. Severus made yet another mental note to remove himself from the man's chosen company, though he no longer suffered any delusions that such an effort would be successful. "But this letter is important."

Granger handed the letter to Minerva with the air of one delivering news of the utmost importance—Severus, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, knew then just what the letter's contents would divulge.

Indeed, Minerva looked up from the letter moments later, and announced, eyes bright, accent thickened by a sort of proud satisfaction, "Harry Potter will be joining the Apprenticeship program."

Crescenzo, the Master of Battle Magic, leaned forward interestedly. "Which Apprenticeship is he applying to?"

"Dual—," Granger and McGonagall began at the same time. Granger flushed and murmured an apology, allowing Minerva to complete the phrase with, "Dual Apprenticeships in Healing and Ritual Magic."

The Masters for those topics, Selwyn and Colby respectively, drew to attention at that; Selwyn sat up in his seat, hands gripping at the armrests, while Colby's eyes lost their disinterested glaze and sharpened their focus on the letter in McGonagall's hands. Crescenzo sighed in discontent. Surprisingly, though, the next question came from the Herbology Master, Theirn, who asked, "He will not be taking a Battle Magic Mastery?"

"No," Granger supplied, half-frowning, "which is a little unusual—I didn't know Harry had any interest in rituals or healing."

Healing. This time Severus heard the word and processed it fully, even as Selwyn and Colby were taking the included letters addressed to them. The Ritual Magic Apprenticeship alone would have been well enough, in that it never would have forced Severus into contact with the irredeemable idiot that Potter often became. However, a routine part of the Healing Apprenticeship was work on the Potions aspect of the recovery process. During this segment of the course, Selwyn and he had decided that they would essentially swap classes for a few short months, allowing Severus' Apprentices vital insight into the bodily processes their potions would be affecting, and allowing Selwyn's Apprentices to better understand the potions they would give their patients. If Harry Potter was to be accepted into the Apprenticeship program for Healing Magics, Severus would have no choice but to once again attempt to teach the boy potions for the better part of three months.

"So?" Crescenzo asked, gaze flicking from Selwyn and Colby. "Will he do? Or can I try and steal him from you?"

Colby, with a characteristic methodicalness, folded the letter which had been addressed to him back inside the envelope and placed the entire thing in a pocket within his robes. "Oh," Colby responded, a Welsh accent playing clearly across the words, "he'll do."

Severus did nothing quite so juvenile as hold his breath while Selwyn finished reading, though he was very nearly tempted to. Potter had been a menace to him for nearly seven years—surely that was enough. He had no need for a student as hopeless as Potter within his class, no matter his opinion towards the boy; his opinion of the boy, too, was something to consider, low as it was.

Luck had never been especially generous with Severus, nor had any sort of fate looked on him kindly. This being the case, Severus was not exactly surprised when Selwyn, too, folded the letter and nodded in acquiescence. "He'll do," Selwyn echoed, in his low, soft manner.

It would be, Severus reflected, an interesting few years.

I realized the timeline of this might have confused readers, when one of the reviews I received mentioned this story starting earlier than Dicentra formosa. Let me just clear this up for you guys really quick—Harry disappears at the end of the summer, when he's just turned eighteen. Severus is left alone for the better part of a year, and the brick incident occurs the following summer. By the time the Apprenticeship program starts, and Severus starts teaching again, Harry has been missing for a year and is then nineteen. The main part of this story occurs one year after that, in the second year of the Apprenticeship program. At that point, Harry is twenty years old, and has been missing for two years. I hope this makes everything clear—if you weren't confused in the first place, sorry for rambling.

Anyway, please drop a review if you've the time. Feedback helps me write better, knowing your opinions allows me to make sure everybody enjoys, and getting reviews makes my day. :) I respond to each of my reviewers via PM—one reviewer from last chapter, Kamiyoukai, has that feature disallowed, so just know that I read the review, appreciated it, and thank you for giving it. :) Your reviews do matter a lot to me, lovely readers.

The next chapter will be dedicated to any reviewer who can correctly guess which canon Harry Potter characters from Harry's year in school will also be entering the Apprenticeship program. Double credits to anyone who can also place those characters in their correct Apprenticeships. :D