All I Crave is a Normal Life

by cazgirl

R for later chapters. (HarSev) Harry has defeated Voldemort at great personal loss and has fled the wizarding world. Circumstances force him to return and he must face all that he left behind, including his greatest enemy - and his greatest fear.

14. chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of Harry Potter or its characters. They all belong to the talented Ms. Rowling.

Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed and a big thank you to my beta, Sepia, your efforts are always greatly appreciated.

CHAPTER 14

"My dear boy, what has happened to you?" Albus whispered to no one in particular, after Harry made his hasty exist from the classroom.

"At least Potter is true to form, announcing his arrival with pomp and noise. We can't expect anything less from the son of James Potter, can we?" Severus sneered.

"Severus!" rebuked Albus. "That will do."

Severus seethed silently.

"Ginny, please let Remus know that Harry has returned and is here, at the castle," the Headmaster instructed.

"You know that he'll want to come and see him right away, don't you?" the young woman said quietly, still trembling a little.

"Yes, however, tell him that he is not to come here for the moment and that I will explain everything to him later."

Ginny nodded and was about to leave when the Headmaster called her back.

"Oh yes, and ask him to call a full meeting of the Order for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Monday. Where will you find enough replacement teachers to cover for the staff who will be at the meeting?" Ginny asked, her brow furrowing.

"I will simply cancel all classes for tomorrow. This is more important than anything else at the moment," Albus told her seriously.

"Man! I think he broke my leg!" Ron complained loudly.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Jason, or Harry, or whoever the hell he is now," Ron grimaced, rubbing his leg.

"He's Harry. He'll always be Harry," Hermione said simply. "And just how did he break your leg? You hit him."

"A big bit of wood smacked into my leg when he went berserk earlier."

"He's really strong, isn't he?" Hermione shuddered. "I mean, he was always stronger than us when we were in school – and I know he needs to be very powerful in order to stand a chance of defeating Voldemort – but if that was just an outburst of his magic, just how powerful has he really become?"

"Imagine carrying that around inside of you. It's almost scary. How does he do it?" Ginny all but whispered, having returned from talking to Remus through the floo.  She had expected the last of the Marauders to have been excited that they had finally discovered Harry's whereabouts. After all, he had been the only one who had continued to actively search for Harry, even though the others had long ago resigned themselves to the fact that Harry obviously didn't want to be found.  However he had seemed distant and vague, which worried the young woman.

"I guess that's why he's the one destined to fight Voldemort to the death, not us," Draco told his wife grimly.

"He could really hurt someone though.  I mean, he could seriously hurt someone without actually meaning to do it, couldn't he?" asked Ron, slowly.

"What are you getting at Ronald Weasley?" Hermione asked her husband suspiciously.

"I just mean that...well...what if we were sparring together, with hexes and curses like we used to do, and he ended up hurting one of us—" Ron began to explain before he was interrupted quite firmly by the Headmaster.

"I believe that Harry has more control over his magic than you give him credit for."

"You know, I'd always thought 'Jason' was just a little too well-trained for his story about fighting the war against Voldemort in Australia to ring true. They barely even saw the war over there," muttered Hermione, her brows creased in thought, a look that her husband always said reminded him of when she was studying with him as a student. "But he's so different. We saw him fight a few times when we were still in school and it's nothing like the way he fights now. He seems so...hard...now. Remember when he got rid of the shadow creature that attacked Severus at Christmas? Or when he threatened Walter with a hypodermic needle last night? He just seemed as cold as ice. I don't remember Harry ever being like that. Ever."

"Did you monitor Harry's progress while he was training?" Ginny asked the Headmaster, looking closely at him.

"Not directly. I did not want to be able to lead anybody to him. I did contact his instructors periodically to ensure that he was coping though," Albus explained, looking a little uncomfortable.

"And was he coping?" Hermione asked quickly.

"His instructors reported that he seemed to be fine—a  little lonely and frightened, but that was to be expected."

"Did he know that we weren't allowed to contact him? From what he said, it sounds like he thinks we chose not to try and reach him," Hermione pressed on.

"I explained to him before he left that he would be on his own for a time but that it was necessary. He said he understood. In any case, I left him with people who could be trusted to care for him," Albus explained quietly.

"He didn't have us and he'd just lost Sirius too," Ginny thought aloud, "No wonder he was so angry. A group of instructors wouldn't have been much help to him. He needed his friends."

"Unfortunately, it was too dangerous to do it any other way," Albus told them sadly.

"In any case, from what I've seen, he certainly received quite an education. Is that the way you intended him to be trained?" Hermione asked the Headmaster.

"Not entirely. I wanted him to hone his skills, certainly, but I left it to his instructors to teach him what they thought he would need to learn. I can see why they taught him so much about the dark arts, though. Voldemort was a strong practitioner of the dark arts and one cannot defend against them if one does not know about them," Albus replied, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Jason—I mean Harry—said the same thing," Hermione gasped.

"Yes, I know. However, I do not know the details of his years of training. I understand that at some point, he had more or less taken his own training in hand and only called his instructors periodically. I was informed that he acquired a collection of books, most of which were—and still are—illegal to own. They gave his training a dimension that it did not have until then. To be honest, I made a decision not to know the details of Harry's training. Voldemort was gathering so much strength, and if I was captured I did not want to be able to give Harry away," the Headmaster admitted.

"Be that as it may, why were you sending him on scouting trips? He was so young!" demanded Ginny. 

"He may have been young, but he was equal to the task. I gave him lessons myself before he left and if I was in any doubt, I would not have assigned him to the tasks, I assure you."

"I can see why he's so angry...but I'm still not happy with him for leaving," Hermione sighed sadly.

"Neither am I," fumed Ron.

"Before you bring all, or any, of this up with him, please ensure I am out of the room. I would rather not witness another Potter tantrum if you don't mind," Severus sneered maliciously, absently rubbing his dark mark.

"Severus, I said that will do," Albus reminded him.

"I think it is clear that neither Severus nor I will be able to gather information from the Dark Lord's inner circles any longer," Draco observed quietly.

"Yes, that much is certain," agreed Albus.

"In that case, what can we do?" Draco asked plaintively.

"You will do what you can, just as the rest of us will. Come now, this isn't the time to be discussing this. We have much to prepare," Albus instructed, bringing an end to any further conversation and leading them out of the classroom.

OOOOO

It was after midnight and Theresa still couldn't sleep. She couldn't shake the image of Harry screaming and clutching his head from her mind. Nor could she quite absorb the fact that her favourite professor was actually Harry Potter. Slipping quietly out of bed so she wouldn't wake her room mates, she put on her robe and headed out for a walk by the lake to try and clear her head.

The moon shone brightly, but she was too preoccupied to notice, or appreciate, it. In fact, she didn't even notice the lone figure sitting under the large oak tree by the lake until she was nearly upon them. The person she interrupted noticed her intrusion though.

"Lumos."

Theresa inhaled sharply, knowing she would be in big trouble if she was caught out of bed after curfew, and knowing that it was too late to try and hide.

"Theresa?" Harry asked, his throat still sore and his voice husky and strained. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn the day before, though they were decidedly wrinkled from having been slept in. If he were less weary and more alert, he might have felt embarrassed. Then again, if he was more alert, a student wouldn't have been able to surprise him.

"Professor Green?" Theresa spluttered, relieved that it was Professor Green who had caught her out of bed after hours and not someone like Professor Snape, but also a little embarrassed that her favourite professor had seen her in her most un-flattering flannelette pyjamas.

"What are you doing out at this time of the night?"

"Ah, sir, I just couldn't sleep. I didn't mean to interrupt you..."

Harry sighed. "You're not interrupting me."

He extinguished the light from his wand and leaned back against the tree, looking up at the sky. "Do you see that cluster of stars up there, to the right? And the one star near the moon? That's Sirius, the dog star. It always shows up clearly when the full moon approaches," Harry observed a little sadly.

"Oh, I didn't know that. It's quite a big constellation, isn't it?" Theresa asked, seating herself by Harry.

She looked pensively at her professor for some time before looking away to stare into the lake. "I found out who you really are yesterday, so I think it's only fair that you know about me. My name isn't really 'Theresa Chan'. I mean it is, sort of. My parents had it changed when I was very young. Dad was Minister Cornelius Fudge's brother. When I was about two years old, we moved to live in the muggle world for a little while, and he changed his surname, and mine, to my Mum's maiden name, 'Chan'. When I was old enough to understand, he told me that he didn't want us to be associated with the minister anymore and that he was tired of not having any privacy. If I were 'Theresa Fudge', I'd probably be expected to behave differently, but since I'm 'Theresa Chan', no one really cares how I behave, or who I make friends with, or what I do."

"I had no idea that you were related to the minister," Harry said, looking at her closely.

"Not many people do, and if they did, they probably wouldn't look past that," the young girl told him, still looking at the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the lake. "Dad used to say that it was liberating being a 'Chan'."

I know what he means, Harry thought wistfully.

"I-I saw Professor Weasley get mad at you for coming here as 'Professor Green' instead of 'Harry Potter', but considering everything I've read and heard about you, I sort of understand why you might have done that. I would have done it that way, too," Theresa said a little nervously, hoping Harry wouldn't mind her commenting on what was obviously a private matter between two men.

Theresa's compassion and understanding was a stark contrast to the anger of his closest friends and it touched him to the quick.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Um, sir, you should know that a few other students also heard some of the professors saying that you were Harry Potter while we were all in the room and they told a few of their friends, who told a few of their friends, who told a few of their friends, and...well...now everyone in the school knows who you are," Theresa explained nervously.

"Terrific," Harry muttered to himself.

"But most people think it's really cool that we have you as our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. A lot of people changed their name to 'Harry Potter' after the war ended, and we've had a few 'Professor Potters' but it was obvious that they weren't the real thing because, well, we didn't really learn anything from them."

Harry lifted his hand to his forehead and massaged his scar while Theresa looked on with interest. Under the light of the moon, the young girl was able to see that her professor looked far too pale and had dark rings under his eyes.

"You're not going to be leaving us, are you?" she asked him, half afraid of what his answer might be.

The young professor paused before answering the question. "I did think about leaving, but I guess here is as good a place to stay as any.  So no, I'm not going anywhere," he finally reassured her.

"Good," she nodded, letting go of the breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. "I guess I should head back to bed. I didn't mean to disturb you, sir," she said, feeling a little less upset now that she knew that her favourite professor wasn't leaving Hogwarts. She'd come to look up to her professor as an older brother, of sorts. He didn't act like a typical professor, he acted more like someone their age and he treated all of his students as friends and equals, rather than as children. She'd be sad to see him leave, as would a lot of his students.

"Do you know any good jokes, Sirius? I could really use one right now," Harry mumbled at the sky after Theresa had left.

OOOOO

Harry had spent the whole night by the lake and had only returned to his rooms when the sun had risen. He'd just turned the shower taps on when he heard someone knocking on his door.

"Sod off!" he yelled out, irritating his already raw throat and knowing full well that the silencing spell he'd placed over his rooms would prevent whoever was at the door from hearing it. Still, it made him feel better to yell at them. The hot shower did little to wash away his exhaustion. When he looked in front of the mirror, he still saw that he looked like hell. The potions he had taken yesterday had helped, but experience had taught him that potions weren't very effective when his scar gave him a lot of trouble, though they were better than nothing. In any case, he'd definitely be looking for another headache potion later on.

"Oh would you bugger off!" Harry cried out to the person who was still knocking on his door before he threw his glasses onto his face and stormed across the room to answer the door, certain that he'd never know any peace if he didn't find out what they wanted. He yanked open the door, fully intending to give the person on the other side a piece of his mind—and barely managed to stop himself from swearing at full volume at Theresa, who was looking a little flustered and juggling an arm load of vials and a big silver thermos.

"I-I'm sorry, professor, I hope I'm not interrupting and that you're not angry, but I just thought that—wow," she stopped, staring at Harry with her mouth open for a few moments. "Your eyes, they're..." she spluttered, mentally cursing herself for sounding so stupid.

"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbled, reaching up to adjust his glasses.

The young girl shook her head to snap herself back to the present. "I'm sorry for disturbing you like this. I—well, you didn't look well last night, so I brought these. I've got some potions and a big flask of honey tea, for your throat," she said quickly, holding her arms out so he could see what she was carrying and nearly dropping everything in the process.

Harry blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes," she replied shyly, looking down at her feet.

Harry was about to take the potions and flask from her, but stopped. If he hadn't heard her candid admission under veritaserum that she didn't have any romantic feelings for him, he would be very worried about her behaviour. But as she had been one of the only people who hadn't judged him harshly for his decision to return to the wizarding world in disguise, he refused to throw her generosity back at her by simply taking the vials and closing the door on her.

"Why don't you join me for a cup of tea in my classroom? Just let me get some cups," he suggested, pulling his wand out of the waistband of his trousers and summoning two coffee mugs to him.

"I should have thought about bringing cups," Theresa admitted.

"Here, let me take those from you too," the young professor offered, locking his door behind him and leading the way down the corridor, levitating the Theresa's vials and thermos in front of him.

I'm such a dunce! I should have thought of doing that too! she silently berated herself before running to catch up with Harry.

OOOOO

Harry and Theresa pushed two of the student desks together and arranged mugs, thermos and vials between them.

"I got a few calming draughts and headache potions from Madam Pomfrey yesterday. No one gave you any while I was there and I wasn't sure whether they gave you any afterwards," the young girl admitted to Harry as she fussed over the vials. "I knocked on your door yesterday evening after dinner but you didn't answer, so I thought you might have been asleep or something. Um, you still looked unwell when I talked to you by the lake so I thought I'd just come down and see if you wanted to take any..." she rushed on.

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely, gulping down one of the headache potions and wincing at the taste. His student stifled a giggle and handed him a cup of tea.

"I put a heating charm on the thermos just before I came down to see you, so it's still nice and warm," she explained, blowing on her tea and sipping it carefully.

Harry blew gently and took a long sip from his mug. "This is really very good," he said, giving her a small smile, the first real smile he'd smiled since his cover had been blown.

They sipped their tea in comfortable silence, neither of them feeling the need to talk very much, and neither of them noticing the two figures watching them from the door.

"Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" Draco asked Severus, watching teacher and student intently. "She did say under veritaserum that there was nothing going on between them, didn't she?"

"She did," Severus affirmed.

"Should we talk to her? May find out what this is all about?" Draco suggested.

"Perhaps we should wait and see what happens here first," the older professor replied, never taking his eyes off the unsuspecting pair in front of him.

"Alright. That might be best," Draco reluctantly agreed.

OOOOO

Harry noticed Theresa watching him while he was massaging his scar. "It's nothing, it's just annoying me."

"Yesterday in the classroom, when you were, well, knocked out, Mrs. Malfoy showed me where your scar was and she said it should have been darker than it was. Did something happen to it, because I could barely see it?" Theresa asked cautiously, not wanting to sound rude, but at the same time genuinely curious.

"Did she?" Harry asked, sipping his tea. "Nothing happened to it, as such," he said evasively.

"I didn't mean to pry," Theresa apologised, blushing in embarrassment.

"No, you know who I really am, so I guess it's only natural that you'd notice a few things. My scar is very well known and very recognisable. So am I for that matter," Harry grimaced.

"There certainly are a lot of pictures of you out there," the young girl added sympathetically.

"Tell me about it. There's no point changing my name if everyone is still going to be able to recognise me, so I changed my appearance too. My scar can't be concealed completely, there's too much magic in it, but I think I did a good job of hiding it this time. It's only a faint line and you'd have to look closely to see it. No one even noticed it until yesterday." Harry explained.

"So do you look like all the pictures in the textbooks and magazines—with the dark hair and the glasses?" Theresa asked, her curiosity once again getting the better of her.

"I'm a little bit older than the pictures. I've seen a few of them and they look like they were taken while I was at school, but the hair is the same—unfortunately," Harry sighed.

Theresa nodded, sipping her tea. Making sure her professor had pain killing potions was only one of the reasons she wanted to see him this morning. There was something she needed to show him before he went to the Hall.

"Er, professor, I was wondering...have you seen the Daily Prophet this morning?" she asked, unable to look at him.

"No, not yet. I was going to pick one up later on."

"Er, before you do anything, you might want to take a look at this," she said nervously, pulling her copy out from under her robes and handing it to him. The front page carried the story: Boy-Who-Lived Returns to Hogwarts—Hero Welcomed Back.

"Bloody hell," groaned Harry as he read the article which told anybody and everybody that he had revealed his real identity yesterday after having spent some months teaching at Hogwarts as "Professor Jason Green", the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

The muscles in the young man's jaw clenched and unclenched almost unconsciously as he read the article.

"You were all the students could talk about yesterday afternoon. Some of them just have written to their parents about you and one of them must have contacted the Daily Prophet and let them know as well. I thought you should read that before you found out about it from someone else," Theresa said seriously.

"DAMN IT!" he cried, slamming his fist down on the table, making Theresa jump.

"What seems to be the matter here?" Professor Snape interrupted loudly, stepping into the classroom with Draco behind him. They hadn't been able to hear what Harry and Theresa had been saying, but they had heard Harry's outburst and were a little apprehensive to leave their student with an angry Harry Potter after having witnessed Harry's display yesterday.

"Have you seen this?!" Harry demanded, waving the paper at the two men. Severus took the newspaper from Harry and skimmed the article.

"Just another headline to add to your ever-growing scrapbook collection, Potter," the Potions Master said coolly, arching an eyebrow at his former student.

Harry levelled a glare at the older man who, to all outward appearances, remained completely unaffected. With a small gesture of his hand, Harry set fire to the newspaper, watching until it burned down to a pile of ashes and then turning that pile of ashes into a goblet. The others stared in wide eyed surprise at the display of wandless magic.

"Wow," breathed Theresa.

"I agree," Draco added before shaking his head to clear it. "Are you alright?" he asked Theresa quietly.

"Yes, sir. I was just having a cup of tea with the Professor."

"Do you often have tea with the Professor?" Draco asked in some surprise.

"No, but I thought that his throat might be sore from...yesterday...so I made him some honey tea."

"That was awfully nice of you," Draco said gently, "But you do know who he is, don't you?"

"Yes, sir, I do," she said firmly. She noticed Harry heading for the door and called out to warn him. "Professor! If you're going to the great hall, there are probably about a hundred journalists in there right now and I don't think they're going to leave until they get a chance to talk to you."

"Fantastic. Why did Albus let them in?" Harry asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

"It is quite obvious. If the Headmaster did not let them in, he would be seen to be hiding you," Severus said with a sneer, "I would have thought this sort of thing would be right up your alley."

Harry glared at his former professor before removing his concealment spell with a soft murmur and a flick of his wrist.

"It really is you," Draco breathed. "But you look a bit different. Though I guess eleven years brings a few changes with it, doesn't it Severus?" The Potion Master's demeanour was enough to silence the young blond, and he was a little unsure of what to make of his friend's reaction. Severus had paled considerably, and the muscles in his jaw were clenching and unclenching so rapidly that they looked like they were going into spasms. The formidable professor's nostrils flared menacingly as he breathed heavily, his hands contracting into unwrenchable fists. 

"Er..." Draco began, trying desperately to think of a way to head off the disaster that was looming over them.

Severus narrowed his eyes and glared at Draco, who shut his mouth and re-directed his energies into thinking of a way to break the news to Albus that he'd need to look for two new professors because Severus and Harry had killed each other and demolished a sizeable part of one of the hallways in the classroom as well.

The goblet that Harry had just transfigured shattered into a thousand shards.

"Severus, remember where you are," Draco said quietly, nodding in Theresa's direction to indicate that she was still in the room.

The Potions Master nodded his head curtly and visibly relaxed somewhat.

"Showing off, Potter?" he sneered, finally able to verbalise his reaction to the dramatic reappearance of his long-time adversary.  But, in obvious deference to Theresa, the question lacked much of his usual venom and was filled with hints of self-restraint.

"I had no idea you were so easily impressed," Harry said coolly. "There's no longer any reason to wear my concealment charms."

Theresa had been staring in a wide-eyed stupour at Harry, taking in his appearance and reconciling it with the pictures she'd seen of him. Finally she caught his eye and nodded her head, as if to say 'Yes, that's much better now.'

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be in the hall," Harry told his student. "Just stay away from the journalists and from anyone asking questions. I don't want you involved in this…idiocy!"

"Alright," the young girl nodded. She recognised an invitation to leave when she heard one, and began carefully gathering up the potion vials and the thermos she had brought with her.

"If you leave everything here, I'll shrink them for now and lock them in my desk. Come and see me later on and I'll return them to you."

With a final look at the three men, she silently left the room.

"Were you spying on me?" Harry asked Severus and Draco once he was sure Theresa had left and wasn't standing in the corridor.  "I don't like being spied upon."

Severus glared. "What you like, or what you don't like, is no concern of mine."

Harry narrowed his eyes and returned his former professor's glare unflinchingly. "Does he speak for both of you?" Harry asked, shifting his gaze to Draco.

"Er…I've got nothing to do with this. Severus is speaking for himself, I've still got a lot to think through," Draco said, startled by the harshness of Harry's expression. He'd seen Harry angry plenty of times during their time together at school, but he had never seen him look quite like this, and it frightened him just a little.

Harry sighed heavily and quickly secured Theresa's vials and thermos in his desk. "So we're back to this, are we?" he quietly asked Severus.

"If you are looking for special treatment, you will need to look elsewhere, Potter! I have never believed you to be a special case and my opinion has not changed," Severus hissed.

Sensing that the conversation was only going to become more hostile, Draco quickly magically locked the classroom and raised a silencing spell over the entire room and then made sure that he was standing far enough away from the two men so that he couldn't accidentally be drawn into their argument.

Harry blinked in surprise. "You're mistaken, Professor. I have never asked for special treatment. I don't want it–I never have."

The momentary look of shock that passed over Harry's face did not go unnoticed by Draco and he privately wondered why Severus' words would surprise Harry. The Potions Master had made his sentiments clear on any number of occasions, whether or not Harry was within earshot.

"It is quite clear that it is you who is mistaken. You have always thought of yourself as quite the celebrity. From the very first day you entered this school you considered yourself above the rules and you have always done as you pleased. It is obvious that nothing has changed."

"You've got to be kidding," Harry said, rubbing his sore and tired eyes.

"I am not. You spent months among us, parading around in your elaborate disguise. Very well. Congratulations, Potter, you have made fools of us all. However, if you think yourself quite clever, let me assure you that you are mistaken," the older man spat.

"It was necessary," Harry said quietly.

"They were the actions of a coward! You chose to hide, rather than face the world like a man, and you continued to hide even when we learned of the Dark Lord's continued existence, even though your role in this struggle against him has been reserved for you since before you were born!"

"You don't need to remind me of my role in this struggle—it's hardly something I'm likely to forget," Harry said in cold, quiet tones.

"I think –" Severus began.

"And how dare you talk to me about cowardice!" Harry continued, ignoring the interruption.

"If cowardice did not prompt your decision to hide, then pray tell, what did?"

"It wasn't a matter of hiding. It was a matter of self-preservation."

"They are one and the same thing."

"That's a ridiculous assessment – particularly coming from you, Professor. They're worlds apart and I would think that you are the last person who should be censuring me for fooling people into thinking that I'm someone I'm not. After all, that was something you were particularly good at, if your good fortune to be alive after spying on Voldemort is anything to go by."

"There can never be any comparison between myself and your–"

"And I would never compare myself to you," Potter interrupted. "I must say when I thought about how everybody would react if I ever came back here, I never expected you to be like…this. I expected you to be a little disappointed that I'm still alive, although in light of Voldemort's return, maybe you're not too disappointed after all. And I knew you'd be pissed as hell that I interrupted your 'Potter-free' world but I thought we'd just go back to being snarky with each other and maybe throwing the occasional one-line insult at each other, like we used to do when I was your student, and like you and 'Jason' used to do when 'Professor Green' started to teach here."

Severus raised an eyebrow and glared daggers at Harry.

"My point is; I knew you were a bastard, I just didn't expect you to be an openly argumentative and…hostile…bastard," Harry clarified, absently massaging his forehead.

"I do not appreciate being deceived, Potter."

"I hope I'm not the only one in the room who can see the irony in that particular statement," Harry said, looking carefully at the older man for some moments. "So is this why you're so annoyed? Because I managed to pull one over you? I'll admit that you're a skilled wizard–both of you are–but I've had the benefit of a very…interesting education. If I don't want to be found, you won't find me, it doesn't matter how long you search or how skilled you are. Now, if you'll excuse me," the young man unlocked the door and left the room to face the circus waiting for him in the great hall.

"Don't take it so hard," said Draco, finally finding his voice again, and breaking the long stretch of silence that had settled over the two of them once Harry had left.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus snapped, arching an eyebrow.

"He fooled you, but whatever he did, it was fantastic, because I don't know of a single person who wasn't completely taken in. Even Ginny, Ron and Hermione were fooled, and they were his best friends," Said Draco, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"And that, in itself, raises any number of questions, does it not?" the formidable professor asked, turning on his heels and storming out of the classroom. 

OOOOO

The reporters had been keeping an eye on the entrance to the great hall. It took them all a moment to recognise Harry when he stepped through the doors. It had been many years since anyone had seen him.  Once they realised who he was, the group of reporters and photographers seemed to rush toward him as one, all the while shouting questions at him and snapping pictures of him.

Harry's eyes began to water from the flash of cameras and his chest began to seize up when he saw the throng of people headed toward him. "Immobulus!" he cried, pulling out his wand and throwing a powerful spell at the group, stopping them in their tracks and giving him room to breathe.

Neither the students nor the staff in the hall moved. On the one hand, they could see that Harry had things well in hand, but on the other hand, they were just a little afraid that Harry might hex them if they moved toward him. Everybody had heard stories of what Harry Potter was capable of and no one wanted to be on the wrong end of his temper.

The reporters and photographers weren't hurt, but couldn't move a muscle. They could still hear and see what was happening though, so Harry took this chance to talk to them.

"I don't like being hassled by reporters. I hated it when I was in school and I still hate it now. I know you're all going to be a pain in my side unless I give you something to write about, so this is what you can print. I didn't 'disappear' after the war, I travelled. I'd always wanted to visit Europe, America, Canada, and I even ended up living in Australia for a while. The reason no one recognised me was because I went in disguise. If I hadn't disguised myself, I'd have had every witch and wizard and every journalist following me around and I never would have been able to enjoy myself. Can you see my point? Hogwarts is a very special place for me and I came back here because I was starting to get a little home sick. I stayed in disguise because I enjoyed having some semblance of privacy," Harry told them pointedly, slightly twisting the facts, "but that's obviously not possible now."

He paused for a moment. "I read the article in this morning's Daily Prophet about my return to Hogwarts and since most of the article was a bald-faced lie I thought I'd clear a few things up. First of all, no one else was involved in my decision to do this and secondly, I'm not hiding from anyone. That should give you enough to print for a few days. Kindly respect my privacy. Stop following me and stop forcing your way into the school. If you don't, I'll personally make sure each and every one of you knows exactly how it feels to be hassled continually by a crowd of irritating reporters."

Satisfied that the journalists had heard his message—and unveiled threat—he cast Sonorus so that he could be heard in every room of the castle. "DOBBY! PLEASE COME TO THE GREAT HALL."

A moment later, Dobby appeared before him, his enormous eyes widening even further when he saw Harry.

"Harry Potter!" he squeaked, throwing himself into harry and giving him a big house-elf hug. "Dobby is so glad you is back! Dobby has missed you, sir!" he squeaked excitedly.

"I've missed you too, Dobby," Harry told him seriously. "Listen, can you do me a favour?"

"Anything for you sir," Dobby nodded.

"Can you grab a few more house elves and…escort them off the school premises?" Harry asked, nodding toward the group of journalists. "Er, you don't necessarily have to undo the Immobulus spell until they're outside the school. In fact, I wouldn't mind even if you didn't remove the spell at all."

"Of course, sir," the house elf grinned, disappearing with a crack and then reappearing with about fifteen more elves.

"Come and see Dobby later, Harry Potter. Dobby has a present for you, sir!" the house-elf called out as he and the rest of the elves levitated the large group of reporters out of the hall.

Albus left his seat at the staff table and slowly approached Harry. "Are you staying with us…Harry?" he asked tentatively.

The young man paused before simply answering, "Yes."

The Headmaster turned and commanded the attention of everyone in the hall. "Students, staff, let me introduce you to Professor Harry Potter, our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

A few students began to clap, a little uncertainly, their numbers quickly multiplying. Soon nearly everyone in the hall had broken into thunderous applause, giving Potter a standing ovation. Harry's felt his throat tighten from the emotion, and, humbled by the display, he bowed slightly in acknowledgment.

"Thank you," he told everyone when the applause had died down and the staff and students were seated again.

"All classes have been cancelled today, but we will resume normal lessons tomorrow. There is nothing more to be done here, so please finish your breakfast and then enjoy the rest of the day. Mr. Potter, if you would please come with me," he finished, motioning for Harry to follow him out of the hall and into an empty classroom. He wove a silencing spell over the room. Harry looked idly around the room, absently noting the aged parchments hanging on the walls demonstrating complex theories and charts, along with the portraits of a few snooty looking witches and wizards—probably long dead and buried. He skimmed his eyes over the shelves of books lining most of the remaining spaces on the walls, and even read the homework assignment off the black board at the front of the room–anything to avoid having to look at Albus and have this conversation.

Albus studied the young man carefully, noting the way Harry looked everywhere but at him and feeling a pang of nostalgia for the young boy who had stood before him on so many occasions in the past and who had dealt with his nervousness and discomfort in exactly the same way.

"Harry," Albus finally said. Harry looked at the Headmaster impassively.

"My dear boy, I feel I owe you an explanation. And…an apology. When Voldemort returned twelve years ago your godfather and I reassembled the Order of the Phoenix, but despite our best efforts, he seemed to gather more and more power. It was becoming increasingly dangerous for you and your friends to remain at Hogwarts. The children of many suspected Death Eaters attended Hogwarts, and Crouch junior nearly succeeded in killing you during your fourth year here by disguising himself as Alastor Moody, which made me realise that I could not keep you, or the people around you, safe here. 

"At the time I believed that the best thing for you was to stay with people who could train you to defend yourself and to defeat Voldemort. I kept you well hidden because I believed that if Voldemort were to learn of your training, he would have torn the world apart looking for you, and many more people would have died. I could not allow that to happen, and, I think, you would agree with me. I made sure that I had very little contact with your instructors and that you were re-located at random intervals, and I also instructed your friends not to attempt to find you or to contact you. I did not want to be able to lead Voldemort to your doorstep before you were ready.

"In retrospect, I may have made a mistake sending you away all those years ago, but I did what I believed to be right at the time. I care for you very much, as I cared for your mother and father, and I could not bear it if I had been unable to keep you safe," Albus whispered.

Harry was stunned at the candid admission and more than a little moved that Albus cared about him, but shock quickly turned to frustration. If Albus had been through what I went through during the war, he might re-think his claim that he kept me safe, Harry thought bitterly.

"I appreciate that you did what you thought was right, but it-it was a long time ago, and I really don't want to talk about it," the young man mumbled.

Albus levelled a piercing look at Harry. "In any case, with Voldemort's return, I think it would be a good idea for 'Harry Potter' to remain visible to everyone. The threat of your direct intervention might go some way to restraining his actions somewhat."

"You're forgetting that Voldemort knows I'm alive. We share a …connection, and he'd be able to feel that I'm alive," Harry pointed out.

"Could you feel his existence before yesterday?" Albus asked seriously.

Harry thought for a moment. "No. I thought he was dead. I couldn't feel anything…not a thing."

"When you were a student here, and he was thought to be dead, you could occasionally feel his presence, is that right?" Albus pressed.

"Come to think of it, yes I could," Harry said slowly. "Oh, actually, I have to admit that my scar has been twinging every now and then since the last battle, but it would usually only happen when I woke up from having dreamt about him."

The Headmaster's eyes widened slightly. "I thought you might have dreamt about him. How often does this happen? Shall I arrange for a stock of dreamless sleep potion to be sent to you?"

Harry closed his eyes wearily. "No. I've made my own arrangements, but thank you."

Albus narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"But as I was saying, I didn't think anything of the twinges. I just thought that they were a result of dreaming about…him." Harry finished.

"Why would you think that?" the Headmaster asked curiously.

Harry paused to think. If he had to be honest with himself he simply thought that since he'd always associated pain in his scar with visions of Voldemort, he assumed that if he dreamed about him, he would also experience the pain. For some reason, though, now that he was trying to explain his logic to Albus, it just didn't seem to make much sense anymore. "Er…well…I just assumed that I experienced the pain because I was dreaming of Voldemort, much the same way as I'd experience pain when I had visions associated with him."

"Knowing what we now know, I am more inclined to believe that you experience pain because Voldemort is still alive. In fact, I may even go so far as to suggest that he was able to influence your dreams even in his weakened state before his return," Albus said thoughtfully.

Harry's eyes widened. "Do you honestly think he could have done that?"

"I do not know," Albus said, "You did not answer my question; will you remain undisguised here?"

"I will, at least for now. It might make him a little more cautious, but I doubt he'll stay cautious for long," Harry agreed.

"I agree. I'm calling an Order meeting for 3:00 this afternoon. Will you come?" the Headmaster asked, a little hesitantly.

"I am a member, so I'll be there. Where is it being held?"

"It would be safest if we held it at our headquarters," Albus replied, suddenly very interested in removing the lint that had gathered on his robes.

"And where is that now?" Harry asked, throwing Albus an odd look.

The Headmaster hesitated for a moment. "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."

Harry inhaled sharply as he remembered the time he spent at his godfather's old house. "I shouldn't be surprised," he whispered. Sirius had left everything he owned to Harry and Remus when he'd died, but Harry had refused to claim his share of the estate, feeling too responsible for his godfather's death to be able to accept it. He'd transferred his share to Remus days before he'd left to undergo his training.

"It's Remus' home now, but he has allowed us to continue to use it as Order headquarters. In light of the number of anti-muggle wards and concealment wards Sirius' family placed on the house, Remus agrees that there really is no better place to use as headquarters." Albus paused. "He wants to see you very much and he will be at home all day if you wish to see him before the meeting," he suggested lightly

"I have some matters to attend to before the meeting this afternoon. I will see you then," the Headmaster said quietly before leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind him, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

OOOOO

"Where is Harry?" Minerva asked Albus when he returned to his seat at the staff breakfast table. Most of the staff members had left, as had most of the students, but some of the Order members wanted to speak to the Headmaster before they left the hall.

"I left him in one of the empty classrooms, but I don't imagine he will stay there for very long. He will be joining us for the meeting in the afternoon, though." Albus said quietly.

"So you told him where we'll be meeting then," Ginny said, more as a statement than as a question.

"Yes," Albus replied simply, buttering a piece of toast.

"How did he take it?" Ginny pressed.

Albus paused. "I think he was a little upset, but he didn't look too surprised."

"Why should he even care? He left all of this behind, remember? He left all of us! Why would he care about any of this at all?" Ron spat, stabbing a fork at the remains of his breakfast.

"Ronald Weasley, you never cease to amaze me by showing me how much of a foolish prat you can be," Ginny whispered harshly. "You and I are going to have a long talk, right now," she told him, leaping to her feet, grabbing his ear and using it to drag him out of the Hall, oblivious of the few remaining students.

"We'd better go with them," Hermione sighed to Draco, "It's likely to get violent if we're not there."

"It's likely to get violent even if we're there," he muttered, pushing back his own seat and following Hermione out of the hall.

OOOOO

"I can't believe you just did that in front of the students!" Ron yelled at Ginny once she'd dragged him into the rooms she shared with Draco and threw him onto the lounge.

"Why don't you start by telling me what your problem is?" she asked, hands on hips.

"Wh –" Ron began before he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

"Oops, sorry guys. Don't stop on our account," Hermione explained, seating herself next to Draco and a good distance away from the two siblings.

"Well?" Ginny demanded of her brother.

"I don't have a problem!"

"Ha! Every time I mention Harry –"

"I don't want to talk about him," Ron said stubbornly, standing up to face his sister.

"This is what I'm talking about. What is wrong with you?"

"What do you think is wrong?" Ron snarled.

"You're angry at him because he left without a word to you, that's it, isn't it?" Ginny asked in gentler tones.

Ron looked away without responding.

"He doesn't have to answer to you; he can do what he likes. He was technically an adult when he left, old enough to make his own decisions."

"He left all of us! What does that tell you? It tells me that he doesn't care! If he did, he wouldn't have just picked up and left. He would have said something, or at least dropped us a line. He could have been dead for all we knew," Ron cried, throwing his hands up and pacing the length of the room. "I loved him like a brother and he threw it all back in my face, Ginny! You of all people should know what I'm talking about."

"You don't honestly think that's what really happened, do you?" Ginny asked, looking carefully at her brother.

"Yes!" he shouted.

"Yes," Hermione echoed quietly, in reluctant admittance.

"I loved him too, and of course I was upset when he left, but I'm just so relieved that he's still alive. He wouldn't have left because of us. If he really didn't care about us, he wouldn't have come back and 'Jason' wouldn't have made friends with us," Ginny said quietly.

"Yeah, he didn't have to spend time with us, but he did, didn't he? He didn't have to spend time with me either, but he did that too," Draco noted, deep in thought.

Ginny nodded silently at her husband and her sister-in-law, who also had her brows furrowed in concentration.

"That doesn't excuse what he did. I would have told him if I'd planned to leave," Ron said stubbornly.

"Oh for goodness' sake! You're not him, and none of us could ever understand what it's like to be him. Look how much he's changed since we last saw him. You were his best friends, and he was like a brother to me, and none of us recognised him for who he was. Even Albus didn't recognise him," Ginny cried.

"He must be pretty pleased with himself. He fooled all of us. I'll bet he's having a good laugh," Ron fumed.

Ginny levelled a look at her brother that spoke volumes. "He doesn't look 'pleased with himself' to me. He might have changed, but deep down, where it counts, he's still Harry, and Harry would never go out of his way to hurt us."

Ron glared skeptically at his sister.

"Look, I know you're angry–so am I–but if you ever want to find out why he left, and if you ever want to stay friends with him, give him a break,"  Ginny told her brother.

"Okay?" she pressed when Ron looked away from her again. Make no mistake about it, Ginny was at least as angry as her brother was, but her years with Draco had made her appreciate that things aren't always what they seem to be at first glance.  She hoped that this was the case here.

"Fine," Ron grumbled.

"We'll be able to talk to him this afternoon at the meeting, so maybe we can clear a few things up then," Hermione suggested from the far side of the room.

"Maybe," Ginny agreed, with a significant look at her brother who was still pacing the room and grumbling.

OOOOO

Harry made his way wearily back to his own classroom and fished out one of the calming potions that Theresa had left for him earlier that morning, downing it in one gulp. He definitely needed something to steady his nerves before he met with Remus. Since news of his return was public knowledge, there was no point trying to hide from him, and truth be told, he had missed the Marauder in the years he'd been absent from this place. There was no doubt that he wanted to see him again, but he feared his reaction. If his friends' reactions were anything to go by, he wasn't looking forward to what Remus would say and do.

Floo was, by far, the quickest way to travel, even if it wasn't the most comfortable mode of wizard transportation. So Harry made his way to the only classroom with its own fireplace. Once he had checked that the room was empty, he quickly moved to stand in front of the fire place and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the urn behind the umbrella stand.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," he said clearly, trying not to choke on the dust as he was zoomed to his destination. The fireplace at the Order headquarters spat him out and he landed with a dusty thump on the rug in front of the fireplace.

OOOOO

He looked at the room in which he was standing, noting the changes that had been made since he was last here. The ugly portraits of the various members of the Black family–including the infamous portrait of Sirius' mum–were gone, and in their place were beautiful landscape paintings. The heads of generations of the Black family's house elves that had been stuffed and mounted over the fire place had been removed, and replaced with photographs of various people, all smiling and waving from their frames. In fact, photographs covered just about every surface in the room. Harry dusted himself off and moved to have a closer look at some of them.

"Oh my God," he gasped, feeling his eyes sting. He put a hand on the grand piano in front of him to steady himself as he, his mum, his dad, his godfather and Remus stared back at him from the rows of photographs displayed on the flat of the piano.

He picked one of them up and lightly touched the glass, wishing he could touch the people inside the frame. James was lying on a big furry rug on his back, and Harry was sitting on his father's chest. James was laughing and gently holding Harry's hands, swinging them from side to side, as if he were trying to dance with his baby son.  Lily was sitting next to her husband, smiling fondly at her two boys and holding tightly onto her son's waist so he wouldn't fall off.

Harry's heart contracted painfully at the sight. He put the photo down and picked up a folding double frame. On one side there was a picture of Sirius, clad head-to-toe in black leather sitting on his motorcycle, and baby Harry riding securely in the back of his jacket—only his head and arms peeking out from the top. Sirius had a tight grip on Harry's hands and was bouncing him up and down while Harry laughed. On the other side, Remus was giving Harry a horsey-ride while Sirius held onto Harry, making sure he didn't fall off Remus' back.

First one tear, then another, splashed onto the frames and Harry quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand, not aware until then that he'd allowed his tears to spill over. He returned the photos to their proper place and looked slowly at the rest of them. There were some of his mum and dad, and some of the Marauders as a group and then photos of just James, Lily and Sirius. There were even some photos of Harry that had been taken while he was at school, probably by Colin Creevey.

He picked one up of Sirius and him decorating a Christmas tree the very last time he had been in this house–actually they were doing more to tangle each other up in the tinsel than decorate the tree. Harry smiled fondly at the visual memory, and was lost so far in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Remus come into the room.

"You're a little early for the meeting, it's not until three o'clock but –" Remus began before he faltered. God how he had missed this boy– no, this young man–over the years and now here he was. He'd forgotten how closely Harry resembled his father's appearance. In fact, for one irrational moment when he entered the room, he was almost convinced he'd seen James standing in front of his piano.  Almost.

Remus startled Harry so much, that he dropped the photo he was holding and knocked over a few more in his effort to retrieve it.

"Harry?" Remus asked, tentatively. The young man looked at him with a look of such fear and desperation that Remus could do nothing but look back at him in disbelief.

"Harry?" Remus hesitantly asked again, taking a small step closer toward him. Harry tried to move back, but he was already standing up against the piano and he couldn't move any further.

"Remus, I'm –" he spluttered, turning around to rearrange the photos he'd knocked over earlier. The Marauder crossed the room and wordlessly put a hand on his shoulder. Harry flinched a little, but stayed where he was.

"That one's my favourite," Remus said, indicating the one Harry had in his hand, where he was sitting up on his father's chest.

Harry stopped what he was doing and just stared at the photograph. "I still miss them. I didn't even know them and I still miss them. And Sirius," the young man added in a whisper. His hand trembled as he placed the photo carefully in front of the others on the piano.

The two men stood in silence, looking at the smiling people in the photographs before them and losing themselves in a sea of memories, some good and some unpleasant.

"It's not fair," Harry hissed, clenching his fists by his side. "It's not fair that they're all dead…and I'm still here."

"It was a dark time, and we all knew the risks involved in what we were doing." Remus told him.

"But they all died trying to keep me alive. They all died…because of me," Harry whispered.

Remus' grip on Harry's shoulder tightened and he turned Harry around to face him, taken aback at the depth of pain he saw in Harry's eyes when he looked into them. "Listen to me. They died because of Voldemort, not you. If you want to blame anyone, blame him."

"I can't," Harry whispered, a tear coursing down his cheek. Remus looked closely at the young man and pulled him into a hug. For a moment, Harry seemed to jerk back, but he quickly leaned into the hug given by his old friend, drawing on the love and support being offered. They stayed like that for a long time, neither one wanting to move until Harry's stomach gave a loud rumble, objecting to the fact that he'd skipped dinner the evening before, and breakfast this morning.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled somewhat sheepishly, pulling out of the hug.

Remus held him at arm's length, taking a good look at him. "I've missed you. Look how you've grown. You're a young man now, and quite handsome at that," he grinned. "You look a lot like your father, but I can definitely see your mother in you as well." Neither one of them every looked as haunted as you do now, though, Remus thought grimly to himself. "Come into the kitchen and I'll fix an early lunch for us," he invited.

Harry was taken aback. After everybody's reaction to his return yesterday, this wasn't the reception he was expecting to receive. "But…aren't you angry?" Harry asked him, his brows creased in obvious confusion.

Remus looked long and hard at Harry and finally sighed heavily. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't upset when you left and that I wasn't upset that you didn't try and keep in touch with me. I assumed you had your reasons for doing what you did, though. I'm just happy to see you again," Remus looked into Harry's eyes and shuddered when he saw the pain and guilt reflected in them. They say that the eyes are the windows to a person's soul, and the older man didn't like what he saw in them. Concern quickly replaced the anger he'd felt when he learned that Harry had been with them for quite some time but had refused to contact them.

"Nothing has changed. I care about you just as much as I always have, and if you need anything I'm right here, I want you to know that."

"I don't know what to say. I-I-I've missed you too. It wasn't personal…I just needed to leave. I…" Harry mumbled apologetically. Come on. You should be angry with me. Everyone else is, and Lord knows I deserve it.

Remus frowned. He couldn't imagine why on earth Harry would feel like he needed to leave. He didn't share his concerns with his best friend's son though–he had just found Harry again, and he didn't want to push him away by fussing over him too much, so he forced a smile and put one arm around the young man's shoulder.

"Just come and have some lunch and tell me about what you've been doing with yourself since I last saw you,"he persisted, leading Harry to his kitchen. Harry leaned into Remus, seeming to draw strength from the touch of his father's best friend, and feeling in some small way, almost connected to his father through it.

OOOOO

Lunch was simple and quiet, and Remus listened while Harry told him bits and pieces about the life he led in the muggle world. Once the dishes were stacked by the side of the sink, they both moved to the sitting room, each nursing a mug of coffee.

"I still can't believe you became a pharmacologist. I thought you hated that sort of thing. I was sure you'd choose a career as a professor in Defence Against the Dark Arts or Care of Magical Creatures."

"No, I love pharmacology. There's just something to do with learning about medicines that appeals to me."

"You'd have to find it appealing to be able to stay awake while you were studying it," Remus noted dryly.

Harry managed a weak grin. "I really like what you've done with the house," he said, steering the conversation away from himself and looking around him.

"Do you? Sirius hated this place, and the last time he was here he was talking about fixing it up. His favourite place in the whole world was the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts and he wanted to try and make this place look like that. Since he couldn't do it, I tried to do it for him," Remus said wistfully.

Harry forced himself to swallow the familiar lump in his throat that appeared whenever he thought about his godfather. "You did a great job."

"Thank you. Your father wanted to do something similar to the house he shared with you and your mother, but your mother wouldn't hear of it. She and her friends decorated the house instead, 'free from all Marauder influence' as she put it."

Harry looked thoughtfully into his coffee. "Tell me about my parents, and Sirius. Please. I miss them, but I didn't really know them."

No one should grow up without knowing their family. It's just not right, Remus thought sadly. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Tell me everything," Harry burst out. "A long time ago you told me that Dad was an arrogant berk in school. He wasn't like that all the time, was he?"

"Of course not. He was one of the most selfless people I've ever known in my life," Remus began, recalling the time the years he spent with his best friends. "I met him in our first class together…"

OOOOO

Remus had been staring for a long time at the young man who had fallen asleep on his couch. He had been searching for Harry since he had left the wizarding world eight years ago, and had feared the worst when his searches turned up nothing. When Ginny had told him that Harry had turned up at Hogwarts, he had felt pained that the young man hadn't contacted him in all the time he had been here, and overjoyed that he hadn't lost Harry after all.

It was hard to believe that this was the same boy he'd met so many years ago on the train to Hogwarts at the beginning of Harry's third year. His mind staggered at the differences between the young boy he became friends with, and the young man he saw before him today. He remembered what he saw in Harry's eyes and it tore at his heart.

Harry was seated at the edge of the lounge chair, leaning back into the cushion. His head was nodded forward and his chin was resting on his chest, his glasses halfway down his nose. Remus moved over to sit next to him, gently removing his glasses and setting them down onto the coffee table in front of them. Harry didn't stir an inch, so Remus put his arm around the young man's shoulders and drew him over so that he could lean against him. Harry sighed deeply, moving so that he was comfortable and Remus gently stroked Harry's hair out of his eyes, remembering a conversation he'd had with James and Lily a few weeks after Lily had given birth.

"Prongs, you're going to have to put Harry down eventually. You can't carry him everywhere, you know. One day he'll learn to walk and then what will you do?" Remus asked, shaking his head.

"Then I'll stop carrying him and I'll start holding his hand," James replied, looking proudly at his son, so much so that he gave his wife the briefest of glances when she came into the room. "Oh, hi honey."

"He's been this way since we brought Harry home. He won't let him out of his sight, even for a minute," she sighed, looking fondly at her husband who only had eyes for his son.

"I can't help it, he's just so precious. Look at him. He's perfect," James said softly, tickling Harry's tummy.

"Don't worry, I'll look after your boy, I promise," Remus vowed quietly, staring ahead of him and losing himself in idle reminiscences.

OOOOO

A loud whooshing noise followed by a heavy thump announced the early arrival of someone in the next room. 

"Oh, how sickeningly sweet," Professor Snape sneered, standing in the doorway of the lounge room, looking at Remus and Harry.

"Ssh," Remus warned the Potions Master, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Yes, we wouldn't want to wake Potter from his nap."

"I don't think you quite understand."

"Nor do I care. I have your potions for you," Severus said, practically thrusting the rack of vials at Remus. The full moon was fast approaching and Remus was thoroughly indebted to Severus' potion which made his transformations less painful, allowing him to keep his mind during those transformations.

"Thank you. Just put them anywhere for now, I'll put them away later," Remus said quietly.

Severus fixed the two men before him with a disdainful glare. "I should have known that you would be the one to coddle him now that he has returned."

"I don't see this as coddling. I see this as necessary," Remus disagreed.

"Nothing has changed –" Severus began, before Harry stirred next to Remus, grunting slightly as he sat up and began clumsily looking for his glasses.

"They're on the coffee table in front of you," Remus suggested helpfully.

"Thanks," he nodded gratefully, throwing his glasses onto his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on your –" Harry began, stopping when he saw Severus standing in the doorway.

"Professor," he acknowledged coolly, politely nodding his head.

"Potter," the Potions Master spat, his voice full of derision. "Allow me to convey my sincerest apologies for interrupting your nap."

"I wasn't napping," Harry told him, his face impassive.

"It appears you have found the special attention you think you deserve at the hands of your father's comrade-in-arms," the Potions Master said with a trademark sneer.

"I think that's enough," Remus told Severus harshly, getting to his feet. The swift change in Harry's countenance when he noticed Professor Snape had surprised him. "Harry has been through a great deal more than we ­–"

"We have all been through a great deal, and we have all done things that we did not want to do," Severus hissed.

"Remus. Thank you, but don't worry about it," Harry quietly told his father's friend. Turning to Severus, he said in much harsher tones, "Don't try and compare yourself to me. Your actions were dictated by the choices you made. I didn't have much of a choice in the matter."

If Severus was affected by the insult directed at him, he didn't show it. His face was just as inscrutable as Harry's. "That was a spectacular temper tantrum you threw yesterday, but you need to realise that you are not a special case, boy, and you never have been. Stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"Severus!" Remus rebuked.

"As a matter of fact, I don't feel sorry for myself. In fact I feel sorry for everybody else. Excuse me," the young man pushed past the Potions Master on his way out of the room.

"Aren't you staying for the meeting?" Remus called out.

"I'm not going far, I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Do you remember where it is?"

"Yes, I'll be back soon."

"Are you sure you would rather not go with him?" Severus asked his former school-yard nemesis snidely, seating himself in one of the chairs and waiting for the other Order members to arrive. "He is not an infant anymore. He does not need you to hold his hand."

"I think the problem is that he's never had anyone to hold his hand," Remus noted quietly.

"Nor have I," Severus pointed out.

"Oh, yes, and look how you turned out."

"I don't think he turned out too badly," Draco noted as he walked into the room, dusting himself off.

"You and I are poles apart on that matter," Remus mumbled, shaking his head as Ginny, Ron and Hermione followed Draco into the room.

"Minerva said she might be a bit late. Something about students and dung bombs," Draco told Remus with a perfectly straight face.

"Did Harry come to visit you?" Hermione asked Remus a little hesitantly.

"Yes. He's upstairs right now, but he'll be down in a minute."

"How…er…how did he seem?" Ginny asked him, unable to meet his eyes.

Remus looked thoughtfully at the small group. "Why? Is there something wrong with him?"

"You mean aside from the obvious?" Ron muttered.

"Stop it!" Ginny hissed, elbowing her brother sharply. Remus glared at him and Ron behaved himself.

"He seemed a little worse for wear, but that's not surprising, considering Ginny's report about what happened yesterday. Why do you ask?" Remus asked protectively.

"We're just concerned about him, that's all," Hermione replied.

Remus sent them all a look that spoke volumes before he excused himself and returned to the kitchen to prepare the 'tea and coffee' stand for the Order members. By the time he'd set up the makeshift stand in the meeting room, most of the Order had gathered.

"Perhaps you should call Harry down," Albus suggested mildly, watching the last of the members arrive. Remus nodded and headed upstairs to the bathroom.

"Harry," he called out, gently knocking on the door. "The meeting's about to start."

"Alright. You don't have to wait for me, I'll be there in am minute," he called out.

"See you down there, then," Remus called out, heading back down the corridor.

Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror and splashed more cold water on his face. "Pull yourself together. It's been a long time since you've let anyone push you around, and you're not about to start now," he told his reflection firmly. "And now you're back to talking to yourself. Terrific," he sighed, turning the water off and reaching for the hand towel.

There wasn't much room left in the large sitting room by the time everyone had seated themselves, but he found a quiet spot in the corner and drew himself a chair.

"Good. We're all here. First of all, let me welcome Harry back," Albus declared to the room. A few gasps could be heard among the sound of about thirty heads swivelling to look at their young hero. Harry groaned inwardly.

"It's good to have you back," Albus greeted him.

Many of the Order members broke into applause and murmured their enthusiastic welcomes and greetings.

"Thank you," he said simply, "but I don't want to talk about me. I want to talk about Voldemort. He's back, and we've got a lot of work to do…"

Remus looked closely at the implacable expression on the face of his best friend's son, his own creasing in concern.

OOOOO

"We don't know where Voldemort is or what he plans to do at this point. We do, however, know who some of his followers are. So at this early stage, the best thing we could do is re-establish our information networks. It would be safest to organise yourselves into groups to do this," Albus instructed. The Order members broke into muted discussions among themselves.

"We are once again approaching dangerous times and we must all do what we can. When we once again have full use of our information networks we will be in a better position to be able to move against Voldemort. On that note, I think we can bring the meeting to an end." The Headmaster concluded the meeting by standing and making a beeline for Remus' coffee stand.

Many of the Order members wanted the change to speak to Harry, particularly the older members of the Weasley family, but Harry left the room before anyone could approach him.

"Remus," Ron called to his friend, beckoning him over. "Did Harry say anything to you about why he left, or why he came back?"

The older man joined their small group and narrowed his eyes at Ron. "Isn't that the sort of thing you could ask him yourself?"

Ron had the good grace to blush under the harsh gaze.

"All he said was that he needed to leave," Remus told him, matter-of-factly.

"That's it?" asked Ron angrily.

"Yes, it is," the older affirmed in low tones that held just the hint of a threat in them.

"Figures," the young red-head snorted.

Remus regarded the small group carefully. "You were all very close to Harry in school, so let me tell you this. I understand that you were hurt when he left–so was I–but I suspect that there is more to be considered here than just your feelings. Think about it."

The small group watched as their old friend turned away and left the room.

"What did he mean by that?" Ron asked out loud, never one for subtleties.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He means I was right and that you need to look beyond your own nose, idiot."

OOOOO

Remus found Harry in the room that housed the piano, standing in front of the fireplace and just looking at the photographs. The young man allowed himself to be reminded of all he had lost, and all that he had never been given the chance to enjoy. He remembered the way that his parents had died–like heroes, trying to stop Voldemort and trying to save him. He blinked back tears at his recollection of the way Sirius had died–like a man, fighting to stop Voldemort's Death Eaters and to keep Harry safe.

"I thought I might find you here," Remus said very quietly, not wanting to startle Harry.

"I just needed to remind myself," said Harry, looking intently at the photograph in his hand.

Remus gave Harry an odd look, "Remind yourself, of what?"

"Of why I did this before…and why I have to do it again," the young man whispered.

Remus nodded, understanding what was said, as well as what wasn't.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I have to speak to Draco and Snape, are they still out there?" Harry asked suddenly.

"They were a moment ago," Remus replied.

"Good. Thanks," the young man called out as he rushed from the room.

Don't worry, Prongs. I'll look after your boy, I promise, Remus silently vowed as he looked at a photo of the Marauders, up to their usual antics, in their school dormitory.

OOOOO

Most of the Order members had left, but Draco, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Severus and Albus remained. Each of them were waiting for their chance to speak to Remus before they left. When they saw Harry approach them, Ron grunted and moved to the other side of the room.

"Ron!" Ginny hissed.

Harry felt a pang when he saw Ron leave, but pushed it aside and set his face. "I didn't want to interrupt you," he told them quietly. "I only wanted to have a word with Draco and Professor Snape."

"Just us?" Draco asked, a little surprised.

Severus sniffed in obvious disdain and looked away.

Ignoring the older man, Harry continued. "Actually, I guess this probably applies to all of you as well, I only singled those two out because I was thinking of the danger they'll be in now that Voldemort's circle are actively looking to kill them.

"Won't you have a seat?" Ginny offered.

Harry glanced at the group and noted, a little sadly, that they seemed to be uncomfortable in his presence. "Thank you," he said, taking a small seat opposite the group. "This won't take long. I guess we're all going to be targeted by the Death Eaters…and Voldemort… and it's going to make it difficult to move around. It's especially going to be difficult for the two of you to move around. A lot of people still think that you were loyal to Voldemort during the war, and I know that no one has actually tried to discourage that opinion in case someone in Voldemort's circle discovered you were a spy, and tried to kill you. Now that Voldemort has found out you were both disloyal to him though, you're going to have people from his circle wanting to kill you as well as people from the general population," he explained to the two men. "I can teach you all to perform a concealment spell that a revealing spell won't see through…if you want."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that," Ginny admitted. "Albus said that he cast a revealing spell on you when he first met you, and it didn't show that you were wearing a concealment spell. He cast another one on you in the classroom when your scar played up—and it still didn't show any concealment spells.  How was that possible when you were wearing concealment spells the whole time?"

Harry paused, trying to think of a way to explain himself.

"Before you start, would you mind if I called Albus over? I'm sure he'd be interested to hear your explanation," Hermione asked.

"Er, sure," Harry agreed.

He looked at the group, noticing that they all wore different expressions. Ginny looked somewhat happy to be talking to him. Draco looked nervous and Severus looked completely impassive, as usual. Hermione, Remus and Albus joined them moments later – though Ron didn't.

"I am eager to hear your explanation, Harry," Albus said, drawing a seat next to Harry and seating himself comfortably. "When my revealing spells failed to show me what you looked like under your disguise yesterday, I assumed you must have been concealing yourself with potions, much like the type that Professor Snape makes for our use which are resistant to revealing spells. I also thought you might have been surviving in your disguise through the continued use of polyjuice potion. That particular technique has been used before," he said grimly, recalling how Barty Crouch Junior had used polyjuice potion to deceive the Headmaster himself, as well as the rest of the staff and students into thinking that he was, in fact, Professor Alastor Moody.

"No, I used a spell. Um, I don't quite know how to explain this properly, but I hope you'll bear with me. A long time ago, a group of wizards tried to combine the standard concealment spell that we all use today with a spell specifically designed to render the revealing spell completely useless. It doesn't so much deflect it as it…I don't know…blankets the first spell. the idea was that the concealment spell would be cast first and then, this second spell, this…it doesn't have a name, but I guess it's some sort of anti-revealing spell…was cast over the first one, with the intention that it would deflect all revealing spells away from the concealment charm," Harry explained slowly, his forehead creased in concentration.

"That sounds perfectly sound to me," Hermione nodded.

"It didn't work. The wizards didn't take into account the nature of the revealing spell. It's designed to detect any concealment spells that the person might be wearing. It's like it sort of moved around the first spell to find the second one. But, my instructors and I–actually, mostly my instructors–discovered that if you weave the anti-revealing charm into the actual concealment spell, it alters the nature of the spell and becomes a part of it. So, revealing spells can't detect them," Harry concluded.

Albus, Severus, Remus and Hermione nodded slowly at Harry, absorbing what he told them.  But Ginny and Draco still looked at him as if he'd been speaking a foreign language.

"So a new spell was developed?" Hermione asked, putting an end to the awkward silence that had arisen.

"No. Two spells are cast simultaneously…sort of," Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "While you're casting them, you need to conceptualise the two spells working together as one to achieve one purpose. Like two parts of the one machine…. As I said, I can show you, and everyone else in the Order, if you like," the young man offered, noticing the confused looks on everyone's faces.

"I have read about the attempt to create a concealment spell that could not be seen through. Was it not Salazar Slytherin and his society of the dark arts who were behind the effort to develop the spell?" Professor Snape asked, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"Yes," Harry admitted.

"Salazar Slytherin?" Ginny exclaimed, a little apprehensively.

"It doesn't matter who developed it, it's an excellent piece of spell work," Harry reasoned.

I must say I am extremely surprised to find that I have not heard of this spell until now. Tell me, is it difficult to perform?" Albus asked, mildly surprised.

"Well…you need to be able to cast two spells simultaneously," Harry admitted, "but I don't think that will be a problem for you."

The rest of the group looked at each other, a little dubious about the prospects of their own success.

"Would it work if one person cast the concealment charm onto someone at the same time as another person cast the anti-revealing spell onto that person?" Hermione thought that it was unlikely that they would be able to perform that spell, but felt that it was too good a spell not to take advantage of, and she quickly racked her brains trying to think of a way they could still use it.

"Um, I don't know. I've never tired it that way. Actually, I don't think it would. The spells need to be more or less woven together and combined before the magic actually leaves your wand that that can't happen if two different people cast the spell. But I can still show you how it's done if you want and you can work on it."

"Would it work if you were to cast the spell over us?" Hermione pressed.

Harry thought about that. "I don't see why it wouldn't."

"How did you find out about the spell?"

"Some of my instructors and I found it in one of my books and between us, we worked out a way around the problems. Actually, they did most of the work," Harry admitted.

"More books? Exactly how many books do you have?" Draco asked curiously.

"A few," Harry replied evasively, looking anywhere but at Draco.

Severus looked on with interest. It was obvious that Harry was lying, which surprised the Potions Master a little, as Harry had never been particularly studious as a student, and there were times during those years when the malicious professor questioned his student's ability to even read.

"Look, I just thought it would help," Harry said, breaking the awkward silence that had once again settled over the conversation and getting to his feet. "Tell Ron about it and let me know if you guys want me to show you how to cast the spells."

Draco rose from his chair and came to stand in front of Harry in one fluid movement, taking Harry by surprise. Speaking quietly so only Harry could hear, he asked "Can I have a word with you, in private?"

"Er, sure," Harry replied, following Draco into the kitchen.

Draco shut the door behind him to make they would have no interruptions before he began. "I just want to make sure we know where we stand with each other."

Harry blinked in surprise. "I –"

"Before you say anything, I don't feel the same way Ron does, and neither do Ginny or Hermione. Forget who we were when we were in school. I spent a couple of years standing in front of Voldemort, face to face, and even though I was one of his favourites, I was scared to death every time I had to do it. I can't imagine what it took for you to stand face to face with him, knowing that he wanted to kill you. I just wanted to say that you have my respect," Draco said, holding out his hand.

Harry shook the offered hand without hesitation, nodding somberly in acknowledgement.

"As I have for you. I don't know how you managed to lie to Voldemort the way you did for as long as you did," he said.

"I hope things don't change between us. I kind of liked 'Jason'," Draco said.

"Jason kind of liked you too," Harry told him, giving a small half smile. "Jason has also been waiting a while to find out how you would feel to know that you told Harry Potter about your, er…sexual dysfunction…."

Draco blushed as he realised that he had, in fact, done just that.

"Jason wants you to know that his secret is safe though. Just the three of us know about it – well, four, I guess when you include Ginny."

"Er…right," Draco stammered. "I'll have to leave soon but I was hoping you'd come with Severus and me when we try to re-establish contact with our information networks."

"You might need to check with the professor before inviting me along. He doesn't seem too happy with me—surprise,  surprise," Harry told him with a roll of his eyes.

"I will if you think I need to. If you have anyone you need to get in touch with or anything, I'd be happy to go along with you, if you'd like some help or some company," Draco offered.

"The Death Eaters want you dead," Harry said bluntly.

"They more or less know who the main players in the Order are, so they'll be targeting more people than just Severus and me now."

"You've got a point," Harry murmured, concerned for his friends. "Listen–make sure Ron, Hermione and Ginny don't just go off on their own out there. Make sure they take you, Minerva or Snape along as well. I don't care how much they argue with you, don't take 'no' for an answer."

"They can take care of themselves, but sure," Draco agreed, noticing the worried expression on Harry's face.

"Thanks."

"Listen, you and Ron will sort things out," Draco offered weakly, knowing that it would take a lot to make his stubborn brother-in-law come around.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, doubtful that that would happen any time soon. The only other time Harry could remember Ron behaving like this was when Barty Crouch Junior, who came to Hogwarts disguised as Mad Eye Moody, entered him in the Tri-Wizard Tournament without his knowledge. Most of the students in the school, including Ron, had been convinced that Harry entered himself into the tournament so that he could earn himself even more attention than he was already getting. It was only when Harry was injured by a dragon in the first task that Ron realised he had been wrong, and everything went back to as they had been before. He privately wondered if it would take something just as disastrous to make things right between them again.

Severus finally found the two young men in the kitchen and paused before he knocked, wondering what they were talking about.

"The others are ready to leave," he said to Draco, ignoring Harry altogether.

Draco nodded and turned back to Harry. "Listen, you get your sleep because we have a class to teach first thing tomorrow morning, and since neither one of us has really prepared anything, we're just going to have to teach this one on the fly."

"We?"

"Yes, we," Draco grinned. "See you tomorrow," he called over his shoulder, relieved that he had sorted things out with Harry. He turned back around and noticed Severus giving him an odd look.

"There's nothing I could possibly say to you that could make you understand, so I won't bother," Draco told him simply. Draco had found that Jason, or Harry as it were, was a man worth knowing, and it would be hypocritical in the extreme for him–a man who had practiced deception for such a long time himself–to hold Harry's deception against him. Privately, though, he wondered what could have pushed Harry into deceiving the very people he'd always claimed to love.

OOOOO

Remus found Harry sitting on his own in the kitchen, nursing a mug of coffee in his hands and looking thoughtfully out of the window. Albus had just explained to the only remaining Marauder exactly what had happened yesterday, which explained why Harry and Ron weren't on good terms.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Remus offered, joining him. Harry smiled gratefully at his father's best friend.

"Only if I can cook," Harry offered.  Chatting with Draco had done a world of good him, and for the first time in a long while, Harry felt at ease.