A/N – I'm terribly sorry for the massive wait for this chapter. I had a slight problem with my house being robbed and losing pretty much all of my electronics. It's taken this long to get the insurance sorted out! I can assure you all that there won't be that big a gap again, and I hope to have new chapters out fortnightly. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please review!

Chapter 3 – A few years overdue

He couldn't breathe. It was like there wasn't enough air in the room and no matter how deep a breath he took it didn't make a difference. It was pitch black and there wasn't enough air. He tried to speak, to call out, but he couldn't make his lips move, couldn't make his head move.

It was then that he realised he was on fire. The flames moving up his body, engulfing him piece by piece until he finally found his voice and began to scream.

Harry woke up with a start. For a few moments he forgot where he was and felt the fluttering of panic in his chest, then his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he remembered.

He was in Snape's cottage, in his spare room, and they were hunting a serial killer. A serial killer. Every time he thought about it he could scarcely believe it was true.

He sat up slowly and wiped the sweat from his face, taking slow deep breaths until his heart stopped pounding. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and tried very hard not to think about why he was there.

Ever since he had discovered he was a wizard Harry had spent every effort to distance himself from the muggle world. He had no fond memories of those first eleven years as a muggle and he had no wish to return to that life. Thanks to his self-imposed isolation he barely knew what was going on in the wizarding world let alone the muggle one. When Harry defeated Voldemort he assumed that was as bad as it got. After all what could be worse than a practically immortal dark wizard intent on ruling the world?

His problem was that he had forgotten that both muggles and wizards were the same species, and human beings were capable of some truly horrible acts. He could cope with the idea of a serial killer in the muggle world because it wasn't something he ever thought he'd encounter in the wizarding world. He didn't like it when the two worlds collided like this.

To be honest his quiet little bubble of peace and solitude had been smashed into pieces by reality, and he felt like a fool. And to make things worse here he was, in Snape's house of all places after practically begging the man to let him stay. He wasn't even sure why he had wanted to. Perhaps it was out of guilt, for forgetting there was a world outside his own for a time, or guilt that he thought of muggles and wizards as separate from the other, after all didn't that make him almost as bad as Voldemort? Or perhaps it was simply that as soon as he stepped into Snape's house yesterday he felt a stirring of something inside him that he hadn't felt in years, and he didn't want to let that go.

Harry honestly didn't know what to think of Snape anymore. After the war he swore that he would never look at the man the same way again, and that he would only treat him with respect and kindness. The problem was that he simply hadn't seen him since his trial where he was cleared of all charges. For the following few months he had considered trying to get in contact with Snape but he had seemingly vanished into thin air, and the more time that passed the more secluded Harry became until he dropped the idea completely.

And now here he was five years later in Snape's guest bedroom waking up from yet another nightmare.

The stirring in his chest began again as he heard the sound of footsteps past the bedroom door. Snape must be awake, and Harry felt a strong desire to join him.

The previous evening hadn't been anywhere near as difficult as he suspected it would be. Snape hadn't changed much in the past five years, and still spoke nastily to him whenever he had the opportunity, but Harry didn't mind much. He'd meant it when he said he wasn't intimidated by him anymore, in fact now he wanted to do his best to push past those barriers and find the real Snape – find the man who had loved his mother. It wasn't going to be easy.

Snape had sat him down in front of a cabinet full of receipts and papers and told him to search through it for evidence, then proceeded to criticise and ridicule him every time Harry had found something worth sharing.

It was not dissimilar to potions class really, except here there wasn't a classroom full of people to witness it which somewhat lessoned the impact it had. Not to mention the fact that it didn't really bother Harry, in fact it almost amused him.

He smiled to himself as he pictured Snape last night as he had walked Harry to the guest room, pointing out the rooms he was not welcome in along the way. He had then paused at the door for a moment and looked Harry dead in the eye.

'Good night Potter.' He said softly, holding his gaze for a few moments. He then spun on his heels and turned back the way they had come.

Harry had looked after him for a few moments wondering what it was he had seen in Snape's eyes. He had then shrugged it off as inexplicable and gone to sleep.

Whatever it had been he was pretty sure it would be gone today. Harry pulled himself out of bed and quickly dressed. Despite the fact that it was only 6am he felt no desire to go back to sleep, choosing instead to seek out Snape's company, however caustic that may be.

Harry found him in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and reading Witch Weekly of all things.

'I'm surprised to see you out of bed so early Potter, don't young wizards usually stay in bed for half the day?' Snape said without looking up.

'I have no idea what young wizards do Snape.' Harry replied. 'I was awake so I got up. Interesting reading material you have there.' He added with a smirk.

Snape ignored the comment but put the magazine down anyway. 'I was just about to cook some breakfast, I assume you're hungry?'

'Yes actually.' Harry said raising his eyebrows slightly in surprise.

'Why so stunned? I'm not about to starve a guest in my house, even an unwelcome one.' Snape said, as he moved about the kitchen, pulling down pots and pans.

'I guess I'm just surprised that you're cooking.' Harry said. 'You don't use magic?'

'No I don't. I actually enjoy cooking.'

'Really?' Harry asked.

'Of course really you idiot. I wouldn't have said so otherwise. I am a potions master after all, that shouldn't surprise you.' Snape snapped.

'Well I'm a defence expert but you don't see me enjoying fighting battles everyday do you?'

'The glories of war wearing off for you Potter?' Snape drawled.

Harry just looked at him for a moment in silence.

'The only people who think wars are glorious are those who have never been in one.' He said softly.

Snape looked up from the eggs he was scrambling, a serious look on his face. 'Touche Potter.'

…

After breakfast they returned to Snape's study to continue searching through his records. This time however there were no nasty comments thrown Harry's way, and instead they worked in complete silence.

Harry never thought he'd miss Snape's nastiness, but the silence was almost uncomfortable.

After about 2 hours of this (in which Harry had found nothing useful and was starting to go crazy), Snape finally spoke.

'I've found it.'

'Found what?' Harry said, trying not to get his hopes up.

'Found the receipt you moron.' Snape snapped. 'Come over here'.

Harry resisted the impulse to smirk and instead obediently crossed the room to the filing cabinet where Snape was working. 'Show me.' He said holding out his hand.

Snape gave him the receipt. 'It's the same.' He said shortly. 'Only complete of course.'

One look confirmed that Snape was correct and it was the receipt they were looking for. What was more concerning to Harry was that it appeared as though Snape had indeed sold a bottle of Felix Felicis. He just hoped fervently that he hadn't sold it to a serial killer.

'Is there any information on the buyer?' Harry asked. The receipt stated that the potion was sent to a Joseph Ersegard. It was doubtful that the name was anything but a ruse. 'Maybe a background check?'

Snape sighed. 'Potter do you really expect me to run back ground checks on all my customers?'

'Yes I do.' Harry said firmly. 'At least for a potion as dangerous as this one. I know the ministry have regulations on selling it.'

'And yet it was perfectly fine for a bloody professor to hand it out as a prize. To a cheat of a student no less.' Snape muttered.

'First of all I wouldn't exactly call it cheating. Secondly that just proves my point, nothing is what it seems at face value.' Harry snapped, irritated that Snape had brought up the Half Blood Prince's book.

'It was cheating and you know it or you wouldn't be so ashamed.' Snape replied coolly. 'And as a matter of fact I did do a rudimentary background check.' He dug a little deeper into the filing cabinet and pulled out a set of papers. 'As you can see there was nothing of consequence.' He continued, handing the papers to Harry.

Harry looked them over. 'Average height, average build, average job. Completely forgettable.'

'And most likely completely fabricated.' Snape added.

'Anything else?' Harry asked. 'Is this all you have?'

'What were you after, a psychological profile?' Snape asked snarkily.

Harry smirked. 'Well if anyone could provide one you could.'

'I'm choosing to take that as a compliment, though I seriously doubt it was intended that way.' Snape said, closing the filing cabinet and turning to face Harry.

'It was a compliment.' Harry said uncertainly. 'Thanks for this.' He added, holding up the receipt and the background check. 'This is at least a place to start, so Kingsley should be happy.'

'As happy as one can be when hunting a serial killer.' Snape said drily. 'I'll show you out.'

Once they reached the front door Harry turned to Snape. 'Thank you for your hospitality Snape, I appreciate it.'

Snape merely nodded.

Harry turned to leave.

'Potter?'

'Yes?' he said, turning back to face Snape.

'Are you going to help with the investigation? Or are you going to hand over the information and return to your life of solitude?'

Harry shrugged feeling confused. 'I don't know yet. I don't know what I want to do.' He paused. 'How do you know I live a life of solitude?'

'It's in your eyes.' Snape said steadily. 'Like it's in mine.'

Harry didn't know what to say.

'You should help.' Snape added. 'It might help you start living again.'

'And what about you?' Harry asked softly. 'Would it help you start living again?'

'I'm past that point Potter.' Snape said, turning away and closing the front door.

Harry looked at the door for a moment pondering Snape's last words. He always thought that they were worlds apart, but apparently they had far more in common that he realised.

He shook himself slightly to pull himself out of his daze, and then turned and trudged up the driveway. It was still snowing hard and Harry resembled a snowman by the time he reached the original coordinates Kingsley gave him. He shook himself off and apparated back to his cottage.

When he arrived home he immediately cast his Patronus, sending a message to Kingsley that he had the requested information. Then he took off his coat and hung it up, before sitting down at the table.

His cottage felt strange to him for some reason, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

He thought of Snape's face as he closed the door, and wondered if he'd ever see him again.

For the first time in years Harry realised he felt lonely.