I'm pretty sure I had sweat stains a mile in radius on my shirt, I was so nervous. I couldn't focus on what Mr. Prince was teaching at all in class. That's not to say I wasn't focusing on Mr. Prince. No, quite to the contrary, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

"Why did he ask me to stay after class?" I thought as my teacher continued drawling on about the mitochondria. "Why not just give me a detention for talking? Oh, that means he definitely heard me!"

Then again, maybe perhaps the school banning detentions was the reason he didn't give me a one.

Unfortunately, this did not reassure me. Knowing Mr. Prince did hear my comments about him would be better than not knowing what he heard at all. At least with the former possibility, I can prepare for the inevitable embarrassment. This waiting is killing me; I can feel in my very bones that something big is about to happen.

I really wish Mr. Prince would allow a clock in here...

"Homework is on the board!" Mr. Prince's voice suddenly cut through my thoughts. It appeared class was finally being dismissed. "And actually read your assigned pages this time. I am finding it increasingly hard to believe any of you are literate."

Ah, it seems Mr. Prince is acting normal enough. My mood suddenly brightened; if he's acting the same, he couldn't have possibly made out what I was saying. Nicole and I were whispering, after all. Maybe he even forgot about asking me to stay after class!

"Miss Thomas, don't think I forgot about asking you to stay after class."

Yeah. Okay. This is irrefutable evidence Mr. Prince can read minds. Magic is real, and I am in danger.

"Yes sir," I mumbled, my good mood gone just as quickly it appeared. It was now replaced with apprehension.

My classmates one by one filtered out of the room. My friend gave me one last sympathetic look before closing the door behind her. It sounded like the sentencing to my death. I wondered if Nicole's face would be the last friendly face I'd ever see.

Not being able to delay any longer, I turned my head from the door to my teacher, who was gazing out the window with a contemplative look on his face. He then turned to me, saying, "Perhaps—"

But before he could even start the second word of his sentence, the window shattered open, and a tall man with flaming red hair jumped into the classroom, cape flowing out behind him magnificently. I simply stood there as glass flew everywhere in slow motion, like in a scene from an action movie. My mind casually noted it was a good thing Mr. Prince had turned away from the window and avoided getting glass in his eyes. My body, on the other hand, started to tremble.

"Don't move!" The man shouted, pointing a stick at my teacher like it was some kind of wand. "You have three fully-trained Aurors after you!

Behind the stranger, I saw a man with glasses and a woman climb through the window after him. They were dressed just as strangely as the redhead, whom they seemed to be very annoyed with.

"Ron!" exclaimed the woman. "That was completely uncalled for!" Nevertheless, she followed her companion in pointing a stick at my teacher.

"Ron" kept his eyes on Mr. Prince, but sheepishly said back to the woman. "I—he saw us Hermione, I didn't want him to get away." Get away? Huh. So I guess my teacher is a criminal now. Cool.

"You didn't have to shatter the glass! That was a bit dramatic, mate." The one in glasses took out another stick of his own, waving it at the ground.

And all the glass disappeared. The glass. Disappeared. By itself.

I didn't know it was possible for my limbs to feel weaker. Magic is real, and I am in danger.

I was confused about everything but one thing: the adrenaline coursing through my veins yelling at me one thing: to get out of here. I took a shaky step back towards the door.

The woman jolted her head my way, noticing me for the first time. I wanted to curse very badly.

"Oh! And there's a little girl in here!" I would have fumed at being called a little girl if I weren't so focused on considering whether I should try to bolt for the door. "You were lucky she was wearing glasses, Ron, or you could have poked her eye out!"

I bolted.

"Argh, no—oh, Stupefy!"

I saw a bright red light shoot at me before the world went dark.

Glancing to the left, Harry saw Hermione looking down at the girl laying on the floor, whose black hair was fanned out around her dramatically.

There wasn't a bloody thing about today that wasn't dramatic.

Harry's eyes bore into the man in front of him. Who was he, and why was he masquerading as Severus Snape? Even though Harry was desperate to find the man alive, he was still cautious of letting himself believe—to hope that—

"I assure you, Mr. Potter, that I am not an imposter."

Harry shoved his occlumency shields up, hoping the others would have the good sense to do the same. He, Ron, and Hermione had all taught themselves occlumency to some extent. Harry was happily surprised to find he was actually quite good at it, and he prided himself on the fact that it was one of the few things he was better than Hermione at.

Moodily reminiscing on how Snape's horrible occlumency lessons could have gone so much better, Harry barked, "Oh yeah? Then prove that you're really Snape. What potion did we work on the most during remedial potions lessons my fifth year?"

Snape's—the man's eyes gleamed, and Harry tightened the grip on his wand. Although the man appeared calm, Harry noticed how his right hand was placed a little too casually close to his pocket.

"You only studied one thing during remedial potions: occlumency."

Harry slightly lowered his wand, but still wasn't completely convinced despite the correct answer.

Snape continued however: "I do believe there was one embarrassing memory in the library during—"

Harry hurriedly spoke over him, saying loudly, "Okay! Okay! I believe it's you! Wow, you really haven't changed."

Snape smirked, but it turned quickly to a look of disdain as he glanced pointedly at the instruments still aimed at him. "And lower your wands. I'm not about to run away when I wanted to be found in the first place."

That statement almost had the trio dropping their wands in surprise. It wasn't a stroke of luck they had finally located Snape? After all those years of searching and finding nothing, the man one day simply decides to reveal himself?

Ron broke the silence first: "Blimey! You're a maniac, you know that, Snape?"

"Ron!" Hermione chided. That's not to say she didn't agree with Ron.

"Well, if he wanted to be found, why not just turn himself in? Why make us get all paranoid"—("only you, Ron!")—"about him attacking or leaving as soon as we found him?"

Harry cut Hermione off before she could start on another tirade. Looking thoughtfully at Snape, he asked, "with all due respect, sir, why did you not simply, say, firecall us? You must know by now you're no longer a criminal in the Wizarding World. So why reveal yourself in such a peculiar way?"

Then, Harry witnessed something so bizarre, so astonishing, so absolutely inconceivable that he had never even entertained thought of it happening.

Severus Snape looked bashful. He actually blushed! It looked horrid and blotchy on his pallid skin, and it didn't help his sudden childlikeness. Ugh, Snape and a cute child were two things he should not have to compare to each other.

"I, ah, it was on a whim. Taking that walk. That is, where I knew a wizard would see me. It was silly, I know." His head turned to gaze back out the broken window. "I believe I wished to leave it to chance."

There was stillness a moment longer before Snape snapped his head back to Harry and drawled, "And it appears you have found me, breaking a window and traumatizing one of my students in the process. I should have known better than to to trust fate."

Harry saw the sarcasm for what it really was. It was either much easier to read people as an adult, or Snape the consummate spy has lost his edge. However, Harry was reluctant to call him our for trying to hiding his vulnerability.

"Don't act like you didn't traumatize her already with your teaching," Harry scoffed, graciously going along with the banter. As he grew up, Harry realized the importance of tactfulness.

"We should actually obliviate said traumatized student," Ron cut in, looking at the clock. "There's only five minutes between classes, right?"

Hermione made a small noise of surprise. She knelt down to the girl and picked her up. "I'll rennervate her. Harry, if you would do the memory erasing?"

"Sure," he agreed.

Hermione pointed her wand at the girl and woke her up, and Harry did the same, ready to obliviate her. The girl's eyes opened. The spell was on the tip of his tongue. Ob—

"Wait!" the girl cried out, and for some unknown reason, Harry listened.

She quickly shuffled her eyes through each person in the room, lingering on Snape. She looked back at Harry, whose wand was still pointed at her, and asked in a remarkably steady voice, "Is magic real, then?"

"Yes," Snape answered from behind him. "And before you ask, Miss Thomas, yes, I am a wizard."

"O-oh. But I've never heard...you guys are secret, aren't you?" Suddenly, her eyes widened and she sprung out of the chair. "And you're going to kill me for knowing! I won't tell anyone! Promise! I don't wanna die!"

Ron snickered in his corner.

"Calm down, child! Have you already forgotten we are magic? We're simply going to perform a memory charm on you. To make you forget," explained Snape.

That got the girl's—Miss Thomas's—attention. "A memory charm? And...I'll forget everything that's happened?"

"That's right," confirmed Hermione. "And don't worry, it's completely safe; it won't affect your mind or other memories."

But everyone stopped listening as, in the middle of Hermione sentence, the girl ran up to Snape, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him full on the mouth.

She got a good half-second of lip-to-lip contact before the surly, dark-haired man pushed her off.

"Okay! I'm ready to lose my memory!"

"Potter don't you dare—"

"Obliviate!" Harry yelled, silently chuckling.

I opened open my eyes and blinked before looking around the empty classroom. Weird, my mind must have wandered for a second.

I looked to Mr. Prince, who had his hand over his eyes. "Sir—"

"No more talking in my class, Thomas," he said sternly. "Just, get out now."

I didn't move, but then my teacher whipped his hand off his face and glared at me, and that was all it took to get me running. I rushed through the crowded hallway, relived that Mr. Prince didn't want to talk about anything else.

You know, I'm glad my earlier feeling that something big was going to happen today was completely wrong.

Severus Snape internally sighed as he watched his student scramble out the door. He had meant to confront the girl on her inappropriate crush, but he had no idea the extent of her infatuation. (Kissing him! Ridiculous—) He decided he would have to attempt to make her cry next class. He dearly hoped that worked.

His thoughts soon turned to Potter. Severus had agreed to meet with him in a few days to discuss the best way to reintroduce himself into wizarding society. Severus could admit to himself, secretly, that the boy had grown up well. Almost into someone he could be proud of...

Severus shook his head and instead decided to think about his imminent re-entrance into magical society. He hated that he felt nervous and apprehensive about it. He knew he was technically acquitted, but how would people receive him, Dumbledore's murderer and bully teacher, after all these years? Would they hate him, or worse yet, romanticize him as the man who lived his life for his one true love? Severus felt the urge to shudder.

He looked out of the now-fixed window the Golden Trio had exited from. They had changed a lot, but much had stayed the same as well..

Much changed, and much stayed same.

Some people would probably romanticize him now, and others still hate him.

Much changed, and much stayed same.

And suddenly Severus realized he could be okay with that.