"I have to say that I'm surprised. In all the years I've known you, I don't think I've ever seen you this out of sorts. Late for a staff meeting? The Severus I know would never allow anything to manipulate his emotions in such a way."

The Headmaster could not bring himself to meet the glare of his Deputy Headmistress. "I apologize Minerva. A personal matter has been interfering with my ability to do my job and I have no one to blame but myself."

"We have never been the best of friends but I would wager that no one alive knows you as well as I do. You can talk to me Severus; anything you say will stay between us. Tell me what's haunting you. Is it Harry?"

Severus shook his head. "No, it's not Potter." He shook his head again. "Perhaps it is, but it's not his fault, not really. Do you remember the night the Dark Lord was finally destroyed?" He looked up and found Minerva's gaze no longer focused on him, but staring glassy-eyed at the open window. A soft breeze rustled the curtains as she began to speak.

"How can I forget? It felt as if a great weight was lifted off the world's shoulders. I don't think I'll ever feel so calm and at peace yet excited and jubilant at the same time." She turned toward Severus, meeting his dark eyes with a soft look from her own. "It's not often that one is able to witness history in the making. I wish you could have been there. The way Harry just appeared out of nowhere…after we all thought he had been killed!"

"So he did come back from the dead," Severus mulled.

Minerva shrugged. "Who knows? He might have played a trick on the Death Eaters. I suppose he's the only one who knows for sure."

"No, he did it, I know he did and he brought me back somehow." He reached out to grip the concerned witch's hand. "I can't remember what I saw when I was there and he won't help me to, so what am I to do now Minerva, how can I go on knowing that I saw what was beyond but can't remember a lick of it?"

"Surely there's a reason he thinks you shouldn't see it."

"He thinks I would…that I would attempt to return to that place."

She patted Severus' hand. "You will return there someday Severus, we all will."

The Headmaster's whole body shook as he pulled away. "What if I don't get back there?"

"I don't understand," Minerva stated, giving him a confused look.

"What if I end up…somewhere else? I was a Death Eater once and I did horrible things. What if that was my only chance for paradise and next time I won't be so lucky…"

Minerva sat down with a loud huff. "Why would you even think such a thing?" She grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to meet her own. "In all my years I don't think I've ever met a man as brave and self-sacrificing as the one I see before me now. You have made mistakes in your life as we all have, but they are so eclipsed by the good that you've accomplished that there's no use even mentioning them now."

"Great Merlin Severus!" She exclaimed, shaking his head with her hand. "You helped save the world and yet you still see yourself as some kind of pariah. Besides that, you've forgotten one little detail."

"What's that?" Severus questioned, eyes wide and curious, reminding Minerva more of a desperate young boy then a powerful adult wizard.

Minerva offered him her most motherly smile. "Albus would never allow you to spend eternity alone."

DSz

The next week passed quickly but easily. Harry could already feel himself falling into a routine and he was really beginning to enjoy his job. Each day held a new discovery for his students and it was exhilarating to follow them on their journeys. Of course some students made it harder then others.

Many of the Slytherins openly despised him but he could tell that he was slowly earning their respect, which was more than enough for him. He didn't need every student fawning over him; he just needed them to learn. If they learned more by trying to show him up or make him look foolish, so be it.

Saturday morning loomed bright and cheerful. A nice change from the constant thunderstorms of the past week. Draco came bounding into the Great Hall in obvious good spirits. He greeted Severus cheerfully and took the seat to Harry's right.

"Someone's in a good mood this morning," Harry commented, giving Draco a curious look.

"Of course I am," Draco stated cheerfully, "I've got two tickets to the Harpies match tonight. They're playing the Cannons, it should be a massacre." He watched Harry from the corner of his eye. "Would you like to go?"

Harry was so surprised by the request that he nearly spit his pumpkin juice across the table. "Me?" He questioned, eyes wide in shock. "You want me to go with you?"

"Well who else would I ask? Severus isn't much for Quidditch and this is somewhat short notice. If you're not interested…"

"I'm interested," Harry spat out quickly, maybe a little too quickly. His cheeks turned a deep red. "I mean, I'd love to go. It'd be great to get away for the night. Have you asked Severus yet?"

"It's fine with me," Severus put in from behind the morning's copy of the Prophet. "Although I don't know why you're bothering to go. The Cannons are guaranteed to lose."

Harry grinned slyly. "Would you like to put money on that?"

Severus lowered the paper slowly. "Are you saying that you would bet against the Harpies in a match against the Cannons? Are you sure that eye patch isn't cutting off the circulation to your brain?"

"C'mon. Let's go ten galleons at ten to one odds."

The other man contemplated the offer for a moment and then gave him a sharp nod. "I'll take that bet. Although I'm surprised that you're so eager to part with your money considering how much you seem to be spending on potions."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned in a strained tone.

"Never mind," Severus replied, disappearing behind the Prophet once more. "You do seem to get a lot of packages."

Harry pushed the package he'd just received under his chair. "I don't know what you're talking about. They're just care packages from friends in America, no big deal." He waited for a snide comment from the headmaster, but none came which made Harry feel even more wary.

Apparently he wasn't being as secretive as he thought. Of course if anyone were going to find out about his little problem it would be Severus. It was impossible to hide anything from the former spy. He seemed to know everything that went on in the castle…just like Dumbledore, a bitter, cynical version of Dumbledore. Harry snorted at the thought and suddenly the paper rustled in Snape's hands.

"I heard that," Severus stated in an amused tone, leaving Harry to wonder if the man meant the snorting sound he'd just made or if Severus could actually hear his thoughts.

Draco seemed to have missed the whole conversation between Harry and Severus. "So you'll go then? The match is at four o'clock. I've already arranged for a port key from Hogsmeade."

"Sure, sounds great!"

"Perhaps after the game we can stop for a bite to eat at the Leaky Cauldron, since we'll be in London anyway."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Do you mind if we make another stop? I haven't been to see George's place yet. I've heard he's got quite the display."

"One you have to see to believe," Draco replied with a broad grin. "I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at two-thirty, that ought to give us plenty of time."

After breakfast Harry retired to his office and grabbed a bit of parchment. He'd been thinking about Aunt Petunia's letter all week and, after careful deliberation, decided to reply. What harm could there be in regular correspondence? None that Harry could see.

Dear Aunt Petunia,

I was surprised to get your letter. I can't believe you found your way to Diagon Alley and even bought yourself an owl! I'm very proud of you, what you did took a lot of courage. Perhaps I should take a lesson from you and be more courageous.

I've still got Dudley's address. Haven't done anything with it yet, but I haven't thrown it away. I suppose I still need some time to think things through. There's a lot of bad blood between Dudley and I, and I need to make sure that I can overcome those negative feelings or else I could end up doing more harm then good.

My classes are going fine. I was scared at first but I'm really getting into the swing of things now. I know the names of almost all of my students and I've managed to keep them all from seriously maiming themselves. Quite an accomplishment for a DADA professor!

Tonight I'm going to a Quidditch match with a fellow professor. His name is Draco Malfoy and he teaches Potions. I don't know if I ever mentioned him while I was a student at Hogwarts, but we never got along very well. We're trying to change that now with somewhat spotty results. One minute we're at each other's throats and the next I feel like we're the best of friends. It's maddening.

I suppose I better end this letter now. I've got essays to grade and a pixie hiding in my office that isn't going to catch itself.

Hope to hear from you soon,
Harry

Harry waited nervously in the Entrance Hall, smoothing his robes every few seconds. He was wearing his best casual robes, a deep green set with a pale gold lining. The snakehead cane had been put away in favor of his silver cane with the simple round head. He checked his watch and patted down his hair.

"You look very nice sir," a small voice stated from behind him. Harry swung around in surprise and found the Longbottom girl grinning up at him, a slight flush to her cheeks.

Harry checked the hall to see if anyone else was around. "Do you think the eye patch is too much?" He pointed to the silver, triangle shaped patch covering his bad eye.

The tiny witch shook her head. "Of course not sir." Her blush deepened. "It makes you look very distinguished."

"I just want to make sure I don't look like a bum," Harry stated nervously.

"You certainly don't look like a bum!" She exclaimed. "If I might ask sir…are you going on a date?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "A date? Of course not. I'm just going with Professor Malfoy to a Quidditch match."

"I see." Hermione's eyes looked him over a final time before she bounded away down the hall.

A few minutes later she returned, a group of giggling girls gathered around her. "I told you," Harry heard her whisper to the other young witches as they made their way past him, all of them staring unabashedly at the famous wizard. Harry scowled and turned away. Things were much easier when all the students were afraid of him. Much easier.

"Ready to go Potter?" Draco questioned as he stepped around the corner and into the Entrance Hall. He paused for a moment and looked the Boy Who Lived up and down. "Well, at least you clean up well."

Harry blushed. "I'm wearing the best casual robes I've got. It was either this or dress robes."

"You look fine." The blonde wizard waved his hand dismissively. "Let's get going. I don't want to miss the pre-match warm-up drills."

A few hours later Harry found himself in one of the oddest situations of his life. He was sitting next to Draco Malfoy, watching a Cannons match and, surprisingly enough, thoroughly enjoying every minute. He couldn't believe that he'd never realized how interesting Draco could be. The man seemed to know everything that was going on in the wizarding world from politics to Quidditch and even the most recent spell creation breakthroughs.

"You'd be surprised what they can do with bones these days." Draco pointed to Harry's bad leg. "I bet they could do something about that at St. Mungo's. There's a healer there, Augustus Pye I believe his name is, and he's doing some revolutionary things using muggle techniques mixed with magic."

"August Pye," Harry murmured, "Why does that name sound familiar?" Harry shrugged. "Maybe I'll make an appointment. I suppose it can't hurt to have a second opinion. The healers in America couldn't do anything."

"Well most of the healers at St. Mungo's will probably tell you the same thing the healers in America did, but that Pye, he's ahead of the pack. I've been corresponding with him on funding some of his research."

Harry gave him a surprised look. "You, funding medical research? That sounds almost like a Malfoy being charitable…I don't believe it!"

"Just imagine how many people could be helped," Draco stated, ignoring the other wizard's sarcastic comment, "and imagine how much they'd pay."

"There's the Malfoy we all know and love," Harry chuckled.

Suddenly the whole stadium erupted in cheers. Both men looked around to see what happened. They'd both been so engaged in their conversation that they'd forgotten all about the game. Harry's jaw dropped as the Cannons seeker flew by, a small golden ball clutched tightly in her hand.

"I don't believe it," Draco mumbled dumbly, "The Cannons won, one-fifty to forty. I don't believe it."

"Wow," Harry responded, still in shock. Then he remembered his bet with Snape and that brought him out of his stupor. "Snape owes me," he exclaimed, punching the air with one fist.

Draco laughed at the other man's antics. "Let's go get something to eat. I'm famished."

"Wait a moment," Harry urged, noticing that no one had left the stadium yet. "I think…" His words were cut off as a loud bang echoed through the stadium. Both men stood in silence and watched the orange fireworks light up the sky.