Hey everyone, I just thought I should warn you that updates will be probably slowing down. I will be studying abroad in Japan for fall semester starting the end of August, so I probably won't have a lot of time for fanfiction. It's so exciting and a little nerve-wracking.

So, thank you for all of your kind reviews, and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.


You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time.

-Abraham Lincoln

All human beings should try and learn before they die
what they are running from, and to, and why.
-James Thurber

Albus, thankfully, hadn't woken to discover Harry gone, or he would have been waiting to confront him about his disappearance. He would also likely be some combination of worried and angry should he see Harry's appearance. His hands were trembling so violently that he was barely able to fit the key into the lock, his lips were likely blue from the cold, and no matter how he tried to calm himself, he knew his eyes were wide and panicked. Faint screams still echoed in his mind, pulsing with the throbbing in his head, and there were moments when he just couldn't catch his breath.

Chocolate. He needed chocolate.

As quietly as he could, Harry ransacked the cupboards for candy bars, and choked three of them down before he felt a little more like himself. He really needed to stop running into dementors if he ever wanted to like chocolate again.

He sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair, wincing as the touch sent a bolt of pain through his brain. Ouch. Running headfirst into a large door, never mind it hadn't been fully closed, was not one of the smartest things he had ever done in his life. On the other hand, he thought as he quietly rummaged through the potions cabinet for a headache potion, it wasn't one of the stupidest either.

Harry closed his eyes briefly in relief at the alleviation of his headache and at last made his way upstairs and to his room. He paused in the hallway outside of his room and glanced at Albus' closed bedroom door. Held close to his heart was the memory of being curled up against Albus' side, the man's presence rendering his sleep deep and dreamless. Harry was so tired of waking up screaming or crying or shaking, tired of being afraid, tired of the dead, tired of not getting enough sleep. If he slept with Albus, the nightmares wouldn't trouble him…

But no. He could never ask such a thing of the other wizard. Albus had done so much for him, more than he needed to. And it was embarrassing besides. And awkward.

No, Harry would do as he had always done. He would survive. His nightmares wouldn't kill him.

His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palm, and he punched his thigh in frustration. He had been getting better! Albus' cottage and presence made him feel safe and cared for. The nightmares had been growing milder and less frequent. Now he was back to square one.

Harry reluctantly lay down on his bed, closed his eyes, and gave in to his exhaustion.

His screaming woke him up only a few hours later. He threw back the covers, sat up, and buried his head in his hands. Harry was panting as though he had run a mile, and his head was beginning to throb again.

It hadn't been a memory this time, simply based on the memory of Tom's current insanity. The presence of the dementors, it seemed, had wreaked havoc on the aspiring Dark Lord's already unstable mind, and he had few defenses against the dementors' presence this early in his life. In Harry's nightmare Tom had once again screamed at him, clawed at his eyes, only suddenly Albus had appeared in the cell, and Tom had ripped him apart as Harry watched, unable to move.

I will protect you, Albus, Harry vowed. He didn't think he would survive if Albus died and left him alone in this time that was not his own.

He sighed and stood, making his way out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen. It was too early for him to take another potion for his headache, but hot chocolate would help relax him. Flipping on the kitchen light, he quietly extracted a pan, milk, and cocoa mix from the cupboards and set to work. It was simple, but it kept his mind occupied and he was yawning with fatigue by the time he rinsed out the pan and sat down with his drink.

That was where Albus found him some hours later, slumped over the table with a nearly empty mug of cold cocoa at his elbow. Nightmares, the professor thought, taking in his housemate's unhealthy pallor, the tension in his frame, and the dark circles under his eyes. He didn't have the heart to wake him, and so set to making breakfast.

Harry woke with a groan, his headache having turned into what felt like a jackhammer slamming against his skull. "Too bright," he moaned, squinting at Albus who had just set a plate of pancakes on the table.

Albus paused and frowned. "Have you been drinking?" He didn't think he had ever seen Harry with alcohol, but it looked like he suffered from a hangover.

"No," Harry mumbled, wincing and wishing that Albus wouldn't talk so loud. "Too dangerous. Gonna get yourself killed 'f you can't think 'n' move right. Woulda bin nice to forget, though. Even 'Mione woulda gone for it, I think."

"'Mione as in Hermione?" Albus queried.

"Mmm." Harry made a motion that might have been a nod.

"Who else was in your group of friends? I believe you mentioned a Ron before as well."

"Yeah. And Luna, Neville, 'n' Ginny." Harry couldn't concentrate. His head was killing him.

Not wanting to take too much advantage of Harry's state, and hoping whatever was happening wasn't too serious, Albus asked, "What happened? Are you ill?"

"Um." Harry thought back, racking his brain. He had taken a potion only a few hours ago to cure the headache resulting from running headfirst into a door.

Oh.

"I took a headache potion last night," Harry moaned a bit more distinctly than he had been. The blow must have really scrambled his brain if it didn't occur to him that he might have a concussion. Headache potions were meant for headaches only. When taken by someone with a concussion it provided temporary relief, followed by intense migraines.

Albus was quick on the uptake, and surveyed him with narrowed eyes. "And how on earth did you manage to give yourself a concussion?"

"…Ran into a door?" Harry said weakly.

"How?"

"It was dark and I was in a bit of a hurry."

"Without waking me up?"

Harry chose to hide his head in his arms rather than answer.

Albus sighed. "Are you hungry?" he asked as he summoned a plate and pushed the pancakes closer to him.

"Thank you," the young man responded.

They ate in silence, Albus choosing to read the Daily Prophet rather than talk to keep from causing Harry undue pain. Hidden behind the pages of the newspaper, he did not notice the younger wizard straighten and examine the front page closely.

Silently, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that the news of a break-in at Azkaban was being kept secret from the general public. There wouldn't have been much to report in any case, as no escape was attempted by any convicts, and none of the patrols had gotten a good look at his Animagus form. It was one less thing to worry about in any case.

"Why don't you go lie down on the couch?" Albus suggested softly when Harry could no longer withhold a whimper of pain. "Try to get some more sleep, and maybe you'll feel better. Don't worry about the dishes."

"Thanks," Harry said with a wan smile and moved to follow his advice. It was early yet, and the living room would remain cool until some time around noon when the weather grew hotter. He sprawled across the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes to keep out the light, and tried to relax enough to doze.

Albus entered the room only a few minutes later and absently twitched his wand at the windows, causing the curtains to snap shut on the morning sunlight. He leaned against the couch and gently moved Harry's arm. "Here," he said, placing a cool, damp cloth over his companion's closed eyes. "This will probably help. I will be in my study if you need anything."

Harry's hand shot out and grasped his wrist before he could leave. "I'm sorry," he said miserably.

"For what?" Albus asked.

Harry was silent. "Everything," he said eventually.

"I am happy to have you living with me, Harry," said the older wizard. He hesitated, and his heart skipped a beat. "I…" The words caught in his throat. He couldn't say it. "I wish you would tell me more, but I won't push you," Albus said instead.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly and let him go. "Don't forget to take breaks and eat."

Albus' lips quirked up in a half smile. "All right," he said as he left the room.

Harry slept deeper than he meant to and completely forgot to put up any silencing charms. For the second time that day he screamed himself awake, dreaming this time of the streets of Hogsmeade awash in blood, the rubble still burning like hellfire.

The crack of Apparition as Albus appeared, wand at the ready, startled Harry so violently that he fell off the couch. The wild, panicked look faded from Albus' blue eyes as he took in the situation, replaced with concern.

"Nightmare?" he asked gently as he stowed away his wand.

"Y-yeah," Harry said shakily, running a hand through his untamable hair. "Sorry for disturbing you."

"Harry, I would much prefer to be 'disturbed' as you put it, rather than let you go through this alone. How long has this been going on?"

"It's been much better recently. I think because you're around," Harry said, forcing himself to meet the other wizard's gaze even as he blushed red in embarrassment. "I just had a relapse today. That's all."

"What caused this relapse?" Albus asked.

"Probably something to do with my migraine," Harry replied, unable to bring himself to outright lie to Albus, but also unwilling to tell the full truth.

As he did so often these days when it concerned Harry, Albus let it go. "It's almost dinner time," he said. "Do you have any preference?"

The other shook his head. "I'm fine with anything, really," he said as he stood. "My head feels a lot better. Why don't I help you in the kitchen?"


Albus fell just a little more in love with Harry every time they spent time together

Perhaps others would think him foolish for trusting someone so suspicious, for allowing his attraction for someone he knew nothing about to flourish. But Albus had learned his lesson last time, with Gellert. He did not allow infatuation to blind him. He may know very little about Harry's background, and he hadn't even the faintest idea what Harry's last name was, but he knew who Harry was. He knew the kind of person Harry was, even if he knew little about what had made him that person.

Albus hadn't thought he would ever get so close to anyone after Gellert Grindelwald, had in fact been determined not to. But Harry was everything Gellert wasn't. He was dark in his looks where the German had been fair, kind and compassionate where the other had been cold and calculating, humble rather than arrogant. Harry had been a victim of horrors and it had made him strong in many ways, but fragile in others. Gellert, as he was now, perpetuated horrors and atrocities. Harry would sacrifice himself for others in a heartbeat if it was required, while Gellert would save himself first.

Albus was not blind to Harry's flaws, either. He may not be actively suicidal, but he didn't precisely believe his health to be all that important either. He was so stubborn that he would hurt himself trying to do what he believed to be more necessary than taking care of himself. He lied, even knowing that Albus could see through most of his lies he lied all the same, and it pained him that Harry felt it necessary. He had a temper.

He always said, "I'm fine," and rarely ever was.


The last of the summer vacation passed quietly. Harry recovered from Azkaban and came to the terms with at last defeating Voldemort a.k.a. Tom Riddle. He had spent almost his entire life fighting the Dark Lord, and now that he was done, he felt adrift, purposeless. Just as he wasn't used to a life no longer on the run, he wasn't used to this sense of idleness. That Albus had spent most of the last several days out of the house doing only Merlin knew what had not helped. Harry could understand better why Mrs. Weasley had taken to carrying the family clock around, even with all hands firmly stuck on mortal peril. The minute something changed with Albus, who was possibly doing something dangerous, Harry wanted to know.

The week before September 1st, the start of the new school year, Albus and Harry had packed up everything they would need at Hogwarts and closed up the cottage. Much to Harry's consternation, rather than Apparition Albus had chosen to Floo to the Headmaster's office, the only fireplace in the castle that allowed both incoming and outgoing connections with the permission of the current Headmaster.

"Something wrong?" Albus queried, arching an eyebrow at Harry's expression as he uncovered the Floo powder.

"This is only one of the worst methods of transportation," Harry grimaced with distaste.

"It's hardly as bad as all that," Albus said amused. He almost wished he could take the words back at the glint in his companion's eye.

"All right," Harry said agreeably, his smile not at all reassuring. "Why don't you go first and I'll come through after you."

Eyeing Harry a little apprehensively, he did so. The fire flared green and he stated clearly, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office."

"Welcome back, Albus," Armando said cheerfully from behind his desk. "How was your summer?"

Albus emerged gracefully from the fireplace and moved to give Harry space to come through. "It was…" he began, only to be interrupted by a small form shooting from the Floo and crashing solidly into him. They went down in a tangle of limbs, and lay there stunned at the impact.

Harry looked down at Albus from his position on top of him and couldn't help it. He threw his head back and laughed. "The look on your face," he gasped, and buried his face in Albus' chest in an effort to muffle his helpless laughter.

"Dear Merlin, son," Headmaster Dippet said, astonished. "Did you take a running start into the Floo?"

"I've always had trouble with the Floo," Harry explained between chuckles. "It just doesn't like me."

"All right," Albus relented, amused himself. "You made your point. Next time we can Apparate."

"That would probably be safer," Armando mused with a smile.

"That's right," Harry sighed as he scrambled off of his housemate and reached down to give him a hand up. "Make fun of me and my inabilities."

"Speaking of abilities," Albus began and shot Dippet a look.

"Ah, yes. Albus suggested to me that, having proved how adept you are at Defense, you might be willing to assist Professor Galatea Merrythought in her classes and tutor any student who needs it. I spoke with her this summer, and she admitted that with the current clime a competent assistant would be welcome."

Harry, by this time, was staring wide-eyed at the Headmaster. "Are you serious?" he breathed.

"Very," Armando confirmed.

Harry hadn't given much thought to an actual career beyond making sure that he had the paperwork ready. He couldn't stand to do nothing, but he hadn't been sure what he wanted to do, aside from practicing his dueling and spellcasting. He remembered how he felt teaching the DA, how proud of them he had been when they had mastered something difficult, how fun it had been to be helping them become better witches and wizards. Teaching was something he could do, and if the things he taught them helped save even one life, then it was worth it. He had a purpose once again.

"I would love to," he said eagerly.

"Wonderful." Dippet smiled. "As we haven't conducted any formal interviews or anything of a usual process, your first two weeks will be a trial basis. Should everything go well, you will be considered a member of the faculty, and you will need to read and sign a contract. In addition to room and board you will be given a small wage, less than the full-time professors. Your room in Albus' quarters is still available should you choose to return there, or else we have a number of available rooms throughout the castle."

Harry bit his lip. He could live alone – he was more than old enough and had all the necessary skills to do so – but he didn't want to. He liked Albus' company, liked knowing that there was someone he could trust nearby. He liked the feeling that he wasn't alone in the world. The problem was he didn't want to impose on Albus. Surely he had taken too much advantage of Albus' hospitality already.

Albus seemed to sense his hesitation and also the reason behind it. "I would be happy if you were to continue living with me, Harry. But I won't be offended if you decided against it."

"If you're sure," Harry said.

Albus nodded.

"Then I will return to my old room," Harry said. "Thank you very much for this opportunity. I am grateful, and I won't let you down."

"Good," said Armando. "Sometime within the next few days you may wish to seek out Galatea and discuss the curriculum and your duties."

"I will. Thank you."

Albus and Harry exited the Headmaster's office. Once they were past the gargoyle that guarded it, Harry turned to his fellow professor. "You suggested this?" he asked, giving him a grateful look.

"I did," Albus acknowledged.

Harry surprised both of them by throwing himself at the older wizard and hugging him tightly. "Thank you," he whispered fervently.

Albus smiled gently and returned the embrace. Harry rarely initiated contact, though he seemed to savor it when it occurred.