Author's Note: Thanks to Jenonymous. Apparently you're the only one reading, but as long as you like it it's all good. -)

Walking into Hogwarts for the first time in years felt like walking into a prison, especially after growing used to wide plains and green grasses.

The grounds weren't very different from Ireland. The green was darker - it wasn't just an Irish myth that there was no green anywhere like the green that covered their country - but the air was crisp and cold, the stones were dark, and the world felt old.

It also felt magical. Snape had gotten use to being the only wizard for hundreds of miles. He had his laboratory set up in their home on the plain, such as it was, and it was a small pocket of warded air and thick charms. But now that prickling sensation was everywhere, filling the grounds, the castle, every inch and every breath.

Hogwarts had a scale that was hard to get reaccustomed to. The towers and walls went up forever, ending only to reveal turrets behind that stretched even higher. Hogwarts, whatever else it was, was a giant stone monstrosity of a building. Everything had the feel of being too large - the walls were too high, corridors too wide. Wide beams curved twenty feet above his head. The torches glowed too brightly, and the air hung heavy.

As he first made his way down into the dungeons he dreaded what he would find there. His home and shelter for so long felt like a prison to him now - if that feeling spread to the only place he had truly felt was his own, he wasn't sure how he would feel.

Seamus was there, walking a step behind him and out of his sight. Did he realize that this was important to Snape? Did he not want to be a distraction? Perhaps. He was a foolish child, but he did show a remarkable perceptiveness about Snape's feelings.

Snape was able to forget he was there as he moved through the corridors and down the familiar path to his former home.

The air changed the closer he got. The stone darkened with moisture, the torches were further apart and less insistent in their glow. Light flickered off the walls; the only decoration as statues and paintings grew further apart and finally ceased entirely.

The air was rich with earth. Children griped often about how cold and dank it was, and Dumbledore had years ago installed windows, charmed to reveal sunlight, to give the brats some comfort.

Sunlight and warmth reaked havoc on a good deal of delicate potions, but they hadn't cared about that. It was ironic in a way - they had never cared what Snape taught or how valuable it was, because like his surroundings he himself was unpleasant. Some students had been smarter than that, of course. Percy Weasley was one, which made his later defection from his family not an entire surprise. The revelation that he had been a recruit of Dumbledore the entire time made sense as well. He was ambitious and intelligent. Unpopular. He had gotten lucky that he hadn't followed the path Snape did.

He moved down the staircase. His nervousness began to diminish and his feeling of coming home began to feel less like a punishment.

The ceilings were lower, the corridors more narrow. The dungeons were home to more secret rooms and paths than the whole of the other four floors of the castle combined, which meant the halls were more given to abrupt curves and corners to compensate some hidden path behind.

His eyes lifted as he walked the path to his old classroom. His shoulders grew straighter, his breathing deeper. It felt old down there. Dark. That was a reason the children complained, but it was also a reason Snape had chosen to make the dungeons his home entirely, asking his quarters to be moved down there. He fit there. Surrounding himself with darkness made his own inherent ugliness less noticeable.

The door to the classroom creaked just as it used to. The low groan of heavy wood made him feel warmer. Home. He had missed no one, but he had missed this. He hadn't asked who had filled his position while he was away, he realized as he entered. He had no idea what sort of foul condition his labs and classrooms were left in.

The room was dark, but the torches erupted into light as he stepped inside. The tables were in the same places, his desk remained where it had been. A stranger's writing was on the board, and the bottles and stores were all rearranged, but he breathed in the sharp air of his class and sighed out again deeply.

He moved through the room, trailing a hand along the solid wood of the student tables as he went. The old loose stone near the front of the class shifted under his foot and something like a smile touched his face.

His desk, unorganized and populated with strange artifacts and sloppily labeled bottles, threatened his smile. He looked past to the door to his office, wondering how much of it was maligned.

A sound caught his attention and he remembered that someone else was with him.

"Welcome home," Seamus said with a smile when Snape turned.

Snape returned the smile faintly, hands curved around the leather of his old chair. He turned and went to the office. There were no charms on the doors that he could detect, a fact that made him frown. The new professor had no sense of sescurity, and that was far too dangerous when teaching children who would steal on a whim or a dare or a foolish idea of making love potions or nonsense like that.

He pushed the door open and looked around. The torches sparked lowly on, reflecting thick specks of dust in the air. Flame glittered off glass bottles from every direction, illuminating the pinks and blues and murky greens of their contents. Round eyes and black beetles glimmered, adding to the sparkle of the dusty room, and he breathed in thick air wih a sudden spark of realization.

His stores. Hogsmeade. His old connections. He could get them all back in line by the end of the day, and receive any ingredients he needed. The time and trouble of getting them shipped to his home in Ireland without being discovered, the false names and bouncing addresses, wasn't necessary. He could get things he had lost all chance of acquiring. In that very room was enough to make the potions he needed for the next month.

He moved out of the office, already compiling a mental list of what he should replenish and who he should owl to reestablish contact. Some of the theories he had compiled through the last months but been unable to test came to his mind. He would have to unpack his notes and get them organized.

Seamus sat at the student table closest to the office. His cheeks were pale and his breathing seemed faster. The dusty air, Snape realized. They would have to leave.

There was an odd look in Seamus's eyes. Snape moved to him. "You're well?"

Seamus nodded. "Just...memories. What-ifs."

"Useless," Snape replied.

"I know. But hard to ignore." Seamus stood. "Are you done for now? We should unpack. You need your potion."

"And you need yours." Snape's arm throbbed, right on cue. He grimaced. "Albus says my quarters were left untouched. I assume my replacement wasn't as comfortable underground as I. Thank Merlin."

Seamus smiled. "Is it such a mess in here?"

"Unforgivable," Snape replied, casting one last look around the room. He would be back soon enough. "If Albus is correct and my rooms were never raided, you will be the first person besides me to ever see them. "

Seamus smiled, accepting the words as a sign that Snape's reflection was done. He joined Snape and walked beside him as they left the classroom for the further depths of the dungeons. "You never had anyone for tea? I'm shocked."

Snape smirked. "The house elves would invade when it was supposed I had gone too long without eating. Meddlesome beasts. But no. Even Albus knew not to attempt to visit me there."

Seamus reached for Snape's hand. "I'm honored. There's room enough for me there? There were rumours when I was a student that you lived in a cave and slept in a crypt."

"Indeed."

"That is, when the rumours that you were a vampire who never needed sleep weren't more popular."

Snape glanced at him. "Yet you didn't run screaming when you saw me again after years of that talk."

"Gryffindor bravery," Seamus replied. A moment later the smile on his face faded. "That's...odd. You know, I haven't thought of myselfas a Gryffindorin years."

Snape left him to his thoughts, reaching his old quarters and pulling out his wand to speak the words to let them in. The door opened and he smirked. He would have to change the wards. The nonsensical Latin of his charm would be far too much for Seamus to remember.

Torches lit as the door swung open, and he found his rooms just as he left them.

Heavy green velvet and silver accents remained free of dust and the signs of time passing. The work of house elves, no doubt. The large living room greeted them: overstuffed sofa and armchairs by the large fireplace and long shelves with rows of books. The books more than anything made him smile. He had left hurriedly years ago and sorely missed the things he couldn't take. The stone floor was softened by an ornate rug in patterns of green and silver - Sytherin through and through. He was proud of his house despite the bad it had done him, and proud of his students when he had been head.

Seamus whistled and moved in further, looking around. The fireplace caught his attention and he moved to it. "Can we light this?"

Snape flickered his wand and the logs burst into flames instantly: cold was no good for Seamus.

"Bloody hell, Severus. This is nice."

Snape nodded. "These rooms were my own. My one luxury." The only thing he had ever had entirely for himself. The one thing he hadn't shared with his two masters, not once. These rooms were sacred, and he had made sure they were comfortable.

He nodded at the distant kitchen. "Food." And then towards the door leading to the bedroom. "Bed and bath."

Seamus lit up. "Bath? Honestly?"

"Mm." A hot bath was a luxury their last home didn't have. Snape had on occasion transfigured a cauldron into a large enough tub and charmed some water to stay hot, but their magic use was cautious and it hadn't seemed a necessary luxury. "I can guess where you'll be as I unpack and get my laboratory ready."

"Well, honestly, I'd do you no good there, would I? Just follow you around and get in your way and break things."

"Of course."

Seamus grinned and moved to the door. Snape watched with a smile as pure shock touched the boy where simple surprise had been before. "Severus!"

He moved to the door, looking in beyond Seamus. "You didn't think I'd treat myself beyond the sitting room?"

"I'd have believed the vampire rumours more than this, if someone had forwarded the truth as a theory." Seamus moved in and went to the bed. Sitting on the edge and bouncing in experimentation, he seemed to shrink into the dark of the spread. He groaned and his eyes rolled back in pleasure as he fell on his back. "You're a hedonist. I always knew there was something about you I didn't know."

Snape laughed, amused at the thought of 'hedonist' being the big secret he had been protecting all these years. The soft bed had been necessary - nightmares and late night calls and returning from the Dark Lord's side in pain and sensitive from crucios had made the bed a form of therapy. But Seamus didn't need to know that.

He moved to the other side of the room, setting alight torches around a large, deep stone tub. He murmured the charm and water began filling the stone, steam rising.

Seamus rose and crossed the room in a flash. Watching the bath fill he leaned in and lay his chin on Snape's shoulder. "If anyone asks...I'll go with the crypt version."

Snape chuckled and turned to Seamus. The boy understood, which was unsurprising by now but still a nice thing to remember. He understood that Snape was how he was for a reason. That if he wanted people knowing he lived this way he would have put an end to those rumours that, yes, he was more than aware of. It might have been silly to still crave his privacy over something as trivial as a large, soft bed. But Snape craved it nonetheless, and without being asked Seamus would oblige.

He nodded towards the bath. "I need to get to work. You'll be alright here."

"Of course." Seamus began unfastening robes and tugging off clothes without a trace of self-consciousness.

"I expect the house elves will have everything unpacked without our aid, so relax until I return."

"Of course," the boy repeated with a cheeky smile as he stepped out of his slacks and trousers.

Snape took a moment - he could afford a moment - to indulge himself. The winter in County Mayo meant constant need for warmth, and despite their proximity he hadn't had a chance to study Seamus in too long.

He had lost weight. Snape could almost see ribs, and the curve of hipbones was apparent. But his skin was golden and unmarred. The lines of his legs, the curves of a flawless chest, the sheer soft warmth of youth.

Seamus had the sort of beauty that made Snape self-conscious. If the dungeons made his ugliness fade, Seamus made it stand out in sharp relief. Just looking at glowing, muscled skin made his skin feel sharper. Were he to look at himself now, unhidden by clothes, he would see nothing but whiteness and bone.

He hadn't realized before Seamus that a self-conscious streak existed. But if that was the worst thing about having a beautiful boy naked before him, it was hardly reason to complain. He drank in the boy, from well-formed legs to golden hair, and everything in between. And then he brought his eyes to Seamus's face and kept them there - he did need to get organized, and didn't need this distraction.

Seamus seemed to see that in his face. He tried to pout. "You're not going to join me?"

Snape shook his head. "You need to relax, not tire yourself out further. I have potions to brew."

"And to take," Seamus reminded him, sternness crossing his face as much as he could show.

"And to take." Snape sighed, rubbing at his arm under the robe. "If you need anything..."

"I won't. I'll be fine."

"The house elves will answer a summons."

"Severus."

"I'll be near."

"I know."

Snape drew in a breath and nodded. "Get in, then, and rest. Travel is more dangerous than you realize."

Seamus rolled his eyes, but his expression was open and affectionate. "Promise me I'll get a chance to wash your back one of these days, at least."

Snape shook his head and sighed, turning to leave the room almost reluctantly. "Brat."

A light laugh sounded as he moved through the living room. He stopped in the doorway, turning back and taking a long look around. His old home, silent and his alone. Just as he had left it.

Now home for two.

It was odd, he reflected as he turned to return to his classroom. Odd the things that bothered him now, and the things that used to be so vital that somehow weren't anymore.