A/N: Next chapter is now up. I guess you could say it was a day late but it's a bank holiday here at the moment so I'm still off today (yay! no double chemistry!) and as a result got nothing whatsoever done yesterday. Hope this satisfies.

I was browsing on fictionalley in the RMS Illegal Substances thread and found someone who was telling people to read my fics beams and considers glomping reviewer before deciding that's a little too scary. Thank you, it really made a huge difference to me to see it there, completely unexpectedly.

Two days passed before anyone saw James again. Aberforth had left just a few hours after his arrival, leaving behind him a calming draught, a particularly fluffy blanket that he'd liked while living at the University and a little cuddly goat toy. Anything after that, he had said, was up to James and no one could do anything else to help. The doors to the small suite of rooms had locked themselves after him and no one had managed to open them. Frustrated, Albus had fire-called his brother, to be handed a note by an assistant.

The password is Parseltongue. You might as well give up now.

That had really not done any wonders for his temper. He shouldn't have given him a Parselmouth as a portrait, Slytherin or no.

Much to Albus' surprise, when he turned up at the head table that morning, he appeared perfectly well and cheerful, his cheeks slightly tanned and rosy as if he had spent the time on the beach instead of locked in his rooms. James was wearing a set of green robes, Albus had a feeling they were his favourite, and was perfectly groomed, not a hair out of place. After the worry he'd been through, it was a little irritating to say the least.

A quick glance at Severus that morning at breakfast showed him to be pale as ever, picking at his food and casting glances along the table beneath his shielding hair. He seemed a little disappointed if anything. He'd been remarkably quiet for the past few days: normally if something went wrong you heard about it in the staffroom, acidic little comments and jibes that were his outlet. There had been none of that. He had been thoughtful; once Albus had seen him skimming through an autobiographical book by Neville Longbottom of all people. Admittedly, it had been a best-seller, but Albus would have eaten his hat, point and all, if it was indeed young Mr Longbottom that Severus was interested in.

Poor Alistair watched from the Slytherin table. He knew something was up - he had spent too much time around them not to know and had been worried by James' absence - but no one was quite willing to explain the cause to him. They suspected he believed it was illness and Madam Pomfrey was ready to answer any query he might bring her. It was much easier to leave him with his misconceptions.

A few students seemed to notice James' return and greeted him amiably as they passed the table, inquiring after his health. Albus had been the one to spread the contradictory rumours of an illness, a family emergency, of a mission for the order of the phoenix. The one thing they'd had in common was that Severus was the one picking up the slack, an obvious explanation for his present bad temper.

The two of them ignored each other all morning. It might not have been obvious to the students but to any of the staff it was as blatantly obvious as . . . as the way Severus and Sybil despised each other. They hadn't sat together at breakfast and talked over their toast, James reading the Prophet over his friend's shoulder. They hadn't drunk their coffee together in the staffroom at break, greeted each other in the corridors, vanished together when they had a shared free period. No, something was quite obviously Not Right and practically everyone seemed to have worked out what it was.

Nothing changed until lunchtime, when the breakfast fiasco repeated itself. James sat at one end of the table, chatting amiably to Rubeus Hagrid (though Albus would later swear he caught him looking at Severus) and Severus sat at the other end, glowering at his food and staring at his estranged lover. The tension was almost visible and all of the teachers save the oblivious Hagrid were treading carefully, eating faster than normal and hoping to vacate the vicinity before the fireworks started. Severus they knew to be downright scary when angry, no matter that almost all of them had taught him as a child. As for James, well, anyone who beat the headmaster in a duel was a little worrying if there was a chance they might lose control.

Suddenly Severus sat up straighter, frowned slightly and turned to his food with a slightly more enthusiastic approach. Albus watched curiously: what had the man noticed to be so, well cheerful, for him. The students poured out on their way to their lessons, shortly followed by the staff. Albus fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment then made a strategic retreat, giving them their privacy.

The silence was overwhelmingly loud. James stubbornly remained in his seat. Severus had rejected him, he wasn't going to be the one to make the first mood. Still, if Severus didn't get on with it he would have to leave anyway to teach his next class, as it was he was going to be late.

Severus walked up to him a minute later. He was still glowering and James gulped inwardly: he'd been hoping so much that they could just make up but maybe it wasn't to be. He might retire and live with Draco and Blaise, that way he'd get to see plenty of his godson and feel busy and worthwhile looking after the estate.

"My rooms, straight after lessons!" he hissed. "Don't be late."

With that he spun and, robes billowing, he strode out.

James got up slowly, pushing a mostly untouched plate of food away from him. Had that been a good sign or a bad one? Quite frankly there was no point in dwelling on it: as it was he already felt like burning himself up in his own magic would be more comfortable. Three days without food, most of it spent crying or having nightmares was not good for the health by any stretch of the imagination.

He looked at the door Severus had just walked out of. Honestly, a simple invitation would have been sufficient! A fond smile flickered around his lips, not quite making it but fighting for its place: he could be surprisingly sweet sometimes, to the affectionate eye, putting on his mask whenever he felt threatened or nervous.

James shook himself out of that train of thought before it really started. He was a teacher, he was already late for his class and he was talking to Severus later. This was no time to be daydreaming.

He was taking one of his seventh year classes today and they were waiting anxiously when he arrived. There were definite benefits to teaching the older years, one being that they had a little more common sense and thought of him as a person rather than as some kind of mutant vampire set on destroying their lives. Come to think of it, he and Ron had said more or less that about Severus in their own schooldays.

"Are you okay sir?" one girl asked. James blinked, confused. Then he remembered that some of them thought he'd been ill.

"Absolutely, thank you, I was just held up for a bit," he managed, walking around his desk to sit in his chair with great relief. Pulling open the drawer, he took out a neatly planned timetable and put it on the desk in front of him. He paused for a moment to let his class prepare themselves and began.

"Now, as I'm sure you're all aware, the NEWTs start in just under four weeks. I'm assuming you know that you will have two sections - practical and theory - so I won't go into it. Your first exam is the theory, followed a week later by the practical. I suggest you get out a quill and parchment so you can jot down what we'll be going over during the next few weeks."

There was a muted shuffling sound as the few people were weren't already poised to take notes hunted around in their bags for a quill that wasn't too blunt, cracked or falling to pieces.

"The NEWT course has been divided into four units, we'll cover two each week. For the remainder of this week - three lessons - we'll cover what I term the Dark Creatures: the magical animals essentially and the legislation surrounding them. We'll also cover Dark Beings - the vampires, werewolves etc. There's quite a lot of theory involved in that, so make sure you bring your notes along. Next week we'll be working through the various defensive and offensive spells that we've covered and the regulations applied."

One boy raised his hand slightly.

"When will we be doing practical work sir?"

"Mostly just before the exams but I might ask you to go over something at any time, so be ready for it. I assume, of course, that you're doing a fair amount of revision out of class since I'm no longer setting you homework?"

A few of them looked a little guilty. James was unsurprised to see that they mostly numbered among them his best students. They were probably using the extra time to revise subjects they were weaker in and relying on duelling club and lesson time to keep their Defense Against the Dark Arts going until a few days before the exam. What Hermione would have said to that, he had a very good idea. There had been times when he decided that being organised was a curse rather than a blessing and when Ernie Macmillan had announced he was doing eight hours a day, well, that was never going to happen.

"Vampires," he said, turning to write that on the board with the end of his wand. "A quick summary, just call out the answers. Place of origin?"

"Eastern Europe."

"Correct, although you can find them almost anywhere now, they don't just stay there. Appearance?"

"Pale."

"Long teeth."

"Thank you, Mr Alderton, but a little more specifically?"

"Long canines."

"That's better. And?"

"Skinny."

"And how do you deal with one?"

"Sunlight, stake or beheading."

James decided to cover that point himself.

"Most things that kill a mortal will kill one of them, with the exceptions of old age and blood loss, though starvation will work. Hack it into enough pieces, burn it or put something through its heart. Specific to vampires is that many younger vampires have problems being out in direct sunlight or even in out of the shadows so you can use a charm to simulate the effect. Miss Higgs?"

"Solare."

"Exactly. Mr Alderton, what are the main parts of the law that relate to vampires?"

"Well, they're classed as Beings but there's no embassy or treaty with them like there is with the goblin. All vampires resident in the UK have to be registered with the ministry but technically they have no power over individual vampires and have to negotiate through the various clans. Turning a human without their permission or to prevent their um death is an offence that is punishable by immediate execution. I don't think vampires can hold any sort of public position here either."

"They also can't attend Hogwarts because of the risk of young, inexperienced vampires losing control and draining people. Then again, vampire children are kept very sheltered since they are the most vulnerable to sunlight and lack of blood to drink. Kill a vampire child and you have immediate blood feud with the Clan and you're likely to be killed in a matter of days, even hours. What can you tell me about their magic, Miss Walpotts?

"They don't use a wand?"

"That's right. Can they do magic?"

"Well, I think some can and some can't?"

"Carry on."

"If you were a wizard before you were turned or come from a family with magic you can but if you were a Muggle you can't."

"Exactly. And vampire specific magic?"

"You mean they are practically immortal and have strong mental and healing gifts."

"That's what I was looking for. Now, werewolves."

James completed the lesson with no ill effects and felt inclined to dash straight down to Severus' rooms. He didn't. One, because he was too nervous; two, because he'd look like an idiot and three, because he had a headache and that would only make it worse. Technically as a member of staff he could request a potion for it from the resident Potions Master but since that was Severus, he didn't dare. He'd probably end up with either Veritaserum or a very nasty, slow acting poison.

At last, James knocked on the wall by Severus' portrait. Given the circumstances, it would have been extremely rude to walk straight in, and besides, he was sure Severus would have changed the password.

It opened a moment later.

James came through and sat down in the chair indicated. On a small table in front of him was a small vile of a slightly green-tinged liquid.

"A mild truth serum," Severus explained calmly, following his gaze. "I will drink half to prove to you that it is harmless and then you will drink the remaining half. You have the right to refuse, of course, but I would rather have the confirmation."

"Oh," James managed articulately. It seemed that maybe he was being given a chance, however slight. "Okay."

"And while we're at it, you can take down that ridiculous glamour charm as well."

James winced slightly. Bloody spies. Bloody Slytherins. It was not fair!

He dropped the glamour. He looked like a Slytherin seeker who'd just been dragged headfirst through the Gryffindor common room the night before a game and he knew it. His eyes were red and swollen, dark bags underneath them. His hair was pulled into a semblance of normality, though it was messy and uneven. What was more, he had a black eye from walking headfirst into the bedpost this morning as he attempted to get out of bed. Seeing it, Severus' face softened and he seemed to be about to move his hand up to touch it but jerked his hand back and sat down, abruptly draining half of the small vile. James gingerly reached for it and tipped the remaining drops down his throat. It didn't taste quite as bad as he was expecting.

"Question," Severus began. "What is your name?"

"Harry James Evans Potter," James said truthfully. He wasn't being forced to tell the truth, the serum didn't do that, but he had nothing to hide and, in this case, honesty would be the best advocate he could get.

"Were you ever intending to tell me that?"

"No."

"Were you ever intending to tell anyone that?"

"No."

"Have you ever told anyone deliberately?"

"Yes. Remus."

"Why don't you want to?"

"Who would want to be a poster boy for the entire wizarding world? I've never wanted the fame, the notoriety, the attention and this way I don't have to deal with it."

"What were your intentions in pursuing a relationship with me?"

James was starting to wonder whether he'd planned these questions about before hand. The man certainly wasn't leaving him any loopholes.

"I . . . I'm not exactly sure. I like you, admire you and it . . . well, it felt right. I've never really had anything long-term before, so I don't know exactly how to say it. It wasn't for anything negative, or as revenge or something. I don't think I'd be able to do that to someone even if I wanted to. I . . . I wanted this to last a long term, maybe even for ever but I guess I've blown that now."

"What have you done the past two days?"

James scowled.

"You would ask that, wouldn't you? I shut myself in my room, cried, had nightmares and sulked. That's about it."

"Try and lie to me now. Who is your best friend?"

"Sibyl Trelawney."

James sneezed furiously, only stopping as he managed to choke out the real answer,

"Draco Malfoy."

And suddenly Severus was there, offering him a glass of water, an arm around his shoulder.

"We're both idiots," he said. "Aren't we? I suppose I can cohabit with a Potter with a effort, even a half-Gryffindor."

James looked at him and a smile spread shyly across his face. That was as close to an invitation as he was likely to get. Certainly there wouldn't be anything like 'I was an idiot, I'm sorry and I'll do anything if I can have you back'. James didn't really care, this was all he needed, especially as Severus raised a gentle hand to feel his puffy black eye. He shivered slightly.

"I'll find you something for that," Severus said.

James kissed him, then pulled away long enough to say,

"Who cares about that?"

A/N: There you go. Honestly, did you think I'd be mean enough to keep them apart any longer? sniffs. I might be mean but I'm not that bad, honest.