Severus could not remember a time in his life when he'd felt more nervous for a first day of school than he did that September.
"They're almost all ready, Severus," Minerva informed him as he fidgeted with the tall collar around the angry red scarring on his neck.
"It doesn't bloody fasten," He grumbled. "It's still too bloody swollen and irritated."
Minerva approached him, and took a look at the thick, rope-like scars on the side of his neck. The peeked out of the top of his collar when she tried to fasten it, but showed more fully with the top two final buttons undone. He wanted to hide it, she could tell, and she understood his anxieties.
"I understand you don't want people to see," She started, but he huffed in frustration.
"Of course I don't. Glamour Charms don't work because it of the magical nature of the wound. Poppy says nothing can be done except wait for the scarring to lessen and calm down. It gets more irritated the more I try to make the bloody collar work. Look at this, Minerva," He said and yanked his collar down to show the wound more fully. "It's awful." His voice was quiet now as he stared beyond her into the mirror above the pensieve. "Children don't need to see this..."
She sighed and patted his chest. "Lad, the world knows you were injured."
"I don't wish to be stared at any more than I already will be."
"I know you're self-conscious about it, worried about how it could possibly frighten the students, but Severus, many of them fought along side us, or had parents or siblings or friends who did. You nearly died, but those marks on your neck are physical representations that you made it."
He stiffened as he continued to stare at the scarring. It was tender still, and angry looking because he'd tugged so hard on the collar. "Perhaps a bandage?"
She frowned. "I suppose that might help with irritation."
"My own irritation? Or the wound?"
"Hopefully both," She snorted and magicked a white bandage to the side of his neck. Immediately, he felt relief at having hidden it for the most part and the cool cloth felt good against the scars. She looked at him. "You look so very tired, Severus. You're still not sleeping well?"
He shook his head once sharply. Nightmares of the Shrieking Shack plagued his sleep every time he closed his eyes. Sometimes, it was exactly as it had been that night and someone's other things happened, like Voldemort would return and attack Granger and Minerva for helping him. In addition to his lack of slee, his energy levels obviously suffered as well. He couldn't walk for long periods of time without becoming tired, but it was improving weekly. His voice tired easily as well, but he'd also made progress there.
"Are you ready?"
"Minerva, I..." He said softly. "I am afraid. Of the crowd. Of the public. Of being judged."
The admission was one he'd never thought he would voice, but the small boy in him was loud. The uncharacteristic emotional confession was torn from him before he could stop it.
"I understand the anxiety, Severus, but you have friends, and these students look up to you quite a bit already. You're a hero, and deserve to be treated as such."
He looked away from her. "I never wanted to be a hero. I just wanted to do the right thing for once in my life. I did so many things wrong..."
She touched her hand to his face and he flinched. "You did the right thing, my boy. You did. Now, you're free. You can make all the right decisions for you."
He closed his eyes and relished in the feel of her hand on his face. Severus was not a man who liked being touched, but that was only because he was so unused to it. Long ago, his mother had loved him, but she had a laundry list of her own issues and problems, and Severus had unfortunately fallen to the wayside.
Minerva was the closest thing he'd had since he'd been a small boy, and he'd always admired her tenacity and ferocious approach to life. She was unfailingly loyal and good, and she was everything he would have wanted his own mother to be. Her thumb stroked his cheek and then she sighed. "You could make this easier on yourself, lad."
"How?" He looked back at her.
"Speak to the media. Stop denying their every request to talk with you." He shook his head and stepped backward. "You're Headmaster of this school, Severus. You cannot avoid them forever."
"No," He said lowly.
"Why, Severus? They're not going to go away. You can't avoid them forever. The Headmaster has to have a good relationship with the media."
"You know what they'll ask about," He said pointedly.
"Of course they'll ask, but that doesn't mean you've got to answer those questions," Minerva reminded him.
"They won't stop asking. You know that. They never will."
"Then talk with them. Tell them your story, so you can be left in peace."
"My story was told for me. Perhaps they should interview Potter, or Granger, or you, or even Albus' portrait. Gods know he loves talking."
"You're a hero in our world, Severus. You simply cannot avoid it forever."
"It's not what I wanted!" He snapped. "I never wanted to be a hero. I never wanted this attention. Heroes are people like you, or Potter, Granger, Weasley, hell, even Longbottom, damn it. Not me. I didn't want this. I was trying to atone for what I did. I didn't do it for God, and I certainly didn't do it for glory."
"What do you want?" She asked softly.
"Peace," He answered quietly.
"My uncle used to say that the only way out of the shit was through it," She said. "He was a rather crude man."
He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not ready." Severus tugged at his collar again.
"On your terms, then. But eventually, you'll have to start running your own errands. I'm old, Severus." She raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Now, stop fussing with your blessed collar, and let's go down to the feast."
"It is always important to know when something has reached its end. Closing circles, shutting doors, finishing chapters, it doesn't matter what we call it; what matters is to leave in the past those moments in life that are over." ~ The Zahir