Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, J. K. Rowling is the brains behind it all.

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Boyfriend

Chapter 3: Revelation

Harry was reeling. He had been offered a teaching position at his Alma Mater, an offer that had come completely out of the blue. He had no idea what to do. On one hand he had only been out of the academy for a year. On the other, he had found that his job was not all that he had expected it to be. He spent most of his time at a desk, paper's piling up. He was more of a trophy for the department than anything else. He collapsed on the couch, the paused movie still displayed on the screen.

Hogwarts. To go back there would be like reliving his teen years, which were still not so far behind him. Only this time, he would be the one to teach and look after the young residents of the ancient castle. Was he ready to have a responsibility like that? To go around, protecting the country from murderous and deranged wizards was one thing, but to look after that same country's young children was on a whole new level.

Then again, maybe this was an opportunity for him. A time for him to show everyone that maybe he didn't have to be the evil fighting 'Chosen' one that he was supposedly destined to be. Maybe he could actually become a teacher? Help show the younger generation that they could defend and rely on themselves and become fully functioning adults in a world still wracked with turmoil.

Harry grabbed the remote and switched off the TV, he wasn't going to be concentrating on it anyway. He wandered through into the kitchen and opened the fridge, staring blankly into its depths, not really looking for anything but more out of habit. He sighed heavily and grabbed a soda before heading upstairs to his room.

He collapsed on his bed; a large king covered in a big white feather duvet, and kicked off his boots. There was a window seat to his left and the doors to his ensuite and walk-in-wardrobe to his right. Other than that there was a couple of photos on the wall but not much else. He found he didn't have much use for lots off stuff in his bedroom when he had an entire house to put everything.

Harry's eyes drifted closed, what was he going to do?

When Harry woke up hours later, it was dark outside. The light from the moon illuminated the room and Harry could tell from the clock that it was 9pm. He groaned and his stomach rumbled, he hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. He stripped off his jeans and pulled on some black sweat pants. The kitchen was dark when he made it down the stairs and light was flickering in the lounge doorway.

He saw that Ron was on the couch watching a movie.

"Hey, how's it?" Harry asked, running his hands through his bed mussed hair. Ron turned around, an arm along the back of the couch, one ankle resting on his other leg.

"Haven't seen you in a while mate, you look like shit." Ron grinned, white teeth showing up stark against his tanned face and titan hair. Harry laughed.

"Thanks man, just been asleep since about four. Is Hermione here?" Harry grabbed an apple out of the bowl of fruit on the bench and then sat cross-legged on the couch next to Ron.

"Nah, she went over to Hogwarts. Said something about a meeting or something? I dunno, pretty weird for a Sunday." He turned back to the movie, which was some sort of action flick with a car chase with a couple of fiery explosions thrown in.

Were they discussing the possibility of Harry working at Hogwarts? He wondered if Hermione would be happy about it. Surely she would, to be the youngest person there by a decade or so surely wouldn't be the easiest thing. Maybe he could do it too?

Harry took another bite of his apple. Was he really considering leaving the career he had worked so hard to get, for a job that he wasn't really qualified to do? It would be a challenge for sure, something he was sorely lacking in his life.

He leant back against the cushions, the movie flashing across his face. He was seriously considering this. Moving back to Hogwarts and starting again, try to eke out a life that he wants for himself and not the one that was paved for him by the people around him.

A house elf set a decanter of wine and an empty glass down on the table next to his armchair. Draco nodded his thanks and poured himself a large glass and took a huge gulp of it. He currently sat in the study of his large apartment in Kensington. He had purchased it after the war and his father had granted him full use of his inheritance. With high ceilings and large windows it was light and airy and had the type of sophistication in which he wished to live his life. He was going to be sad to leave it to move into a set of rooms at Hogwarts.

Maybe he'd come back on the weekends, find some alone time and peace in the seclusion of his home. He smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear. More than likely that would not happen though.

The crystal chandelier twinkled above him, throwing fractured light all over the room. He set his book down on his lap and took another sip of his wine. His mind drifted back to the day before, to the odd encounter that occurred at the Loony.

Harry Potter. Well that was unexpected, to say the least. He had definitely grown up from the underfed, scrawny little boy that had saved the world. He was definitely a… man. Draco shivered a little, the way that he had felt being in such close proximity to him had been something he hadn't felt in a long time; physically at least.

He groaned aloud, he had smelt so good too.

Draco shook his head and gulped down the rest of his wine. Nope, he wasn't going to let this happen. He was not going to obsess over Harry Potter. He was going to Hogwarts soon and he wouldn't have to see him again for a long time.

Yet when he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but see those bright green eyes staring at him from under that black fringe. They pierced him, made his heart clench a little in his chest.

Draco stood up suddenly, the chair scraping loudly against the polished wood floor. No more, he was going to go out and forget about him. Forget about the boy wonder that he had teased for years and would never allow him, Draco Malfoy, to prove that he had changed. He stormed out of the room and into the kitchen that was made of highly polished steel and flawless marble. The liquor cabinet was loaded with all sorts of spirits, magical and muggle. He grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured himself 5 shots and downed them all.

He wasn't going to feel anything tonight, least of all anything for Harry.

Hermione smiled as she looked around the room. She was in the staff room at Hogwarts, a large room with large windows on one wall, managing to encompass the Quidditch Pitch, the lake and Hagrid's hut in the views it displayed. There were tea trolleys permanently stocked with food and piping hot beverages by the house elves, and plush armchairs and worktables scattered around the room. On one side of the room was a long table surrounded by chairs, resembling the tables in the Great Hall.

Currently the staff of Hogwarts occupied that table, Snape sat at the head of the table with Professor McGonagall to his right. Hermione sat about halfway down, a cup of tea in front of her and the various parchments that had been handed out at the beginning of the meeting. They had the agenda for the meeting, as well as a proposed schedule of the first week back at Hogwarts once term started.

She had felt at home in this room as soon as she had set foot in here a year ago. The comfort this place afforded her was wonderful. She could now talk to her former teachers as friends and fellow educators. She was in her element.

Hermione glanced up at Snape, who was talking candidly with Minerva. The light thrown from the candles illuminated the shiny knot of scar tissue at the base of his neck, one of the reminders from the war that he would carry with him always. After Voldemort had left him to die in the boat shed, she and Harry had rushed in. Snape had been on the brink of death, and had bid Harry to take his memories and remember him as the man who had loved his mother for his entire life.

They had rushed to leave, believing that Snape was breathing in his last few gulps of air. Hermione had turned back to take in one last look of the man she had never truly known, and a spell she had seen in amongst the many books she had read in preparation for the Horcrux hunt. It was a spell that put ones body in a state of stasis; a period in which the body was no longer leaking its life-source. The poison would remain in his system causing untold pain but would not kill him, there would be time for them to save him.

She was jolted out of her trip into her memories by an amused Filius Flitwick.

"Hermione dear, did you hear what Minerva just said? Severus just received a letter from Mr. Potter, he's accepted the position as Defence Professor!" He grinned and clapped his hands, his hair waving wildly around his head. "Perhaps this time the 'curse' will be broken eh?"

Hermione looked at him in shock before smiling, Harry was coming to Hogwarts! She then realized who else was going to be there. Draco Malfoy, the newly appointed Assistant Potions Professor. Goody, this was going to be interesting. She glanced up at Snape again, who was looking at her with his dark eyes. Hermione felt a shiver in her spine, those eyes had seen so much, yet she felt like they only saw her at that very moment.

Perhaps the unbroken eye contact lasted longer that it normally should between a Headmaster and his former student. But the intensity thrilled Hermione, leaving her breathless in a way that Ron never had.

She sat back in her chair, a blush forming across her chest. When the attraction to Snape, no Severus, had started she didn't know. While she had been in school, Hermione had never thought about him in anyway closely resembling romantic.

Since Hermione had started as a Professor at Hogwarts he had treated her as an equal, however begrudgingly, and not as a young schoolgirl to be looked down upon. She had done her training, gone to muggle and wizarding schools simultaneously, she was more than capable to handle her fair share of feisty students. He had been kind and freely giving with his time, willing to help her transition into the system of Hogwarts in a way that was new to her. Of course he wasn't the main person to help her, Minerva had been a great friend and confidante to her. They had become quite close and often shared a glass of wine in the evening next to the fire, or patrolled the halls together at night.

Hermione excused herself and breathed a sigh of relief as the cool air of the corridor soothed her flushed skin. She wandered down the hall, letting her black robes fly out behind her, her jean clad legs carried her onwards till she was standing in front of The Fat Lady's empty frame. This happened sometimes, she would just end up here out of habit.

She sighed and leant against the wall, the cool stone hard against her back. Ever since she and Ron had broken up she had felt a sense of relief, as if she now had the chance to find someone who would appreciate her desire for knowledge and have a wildly passionate love for her. She deserved to feel wanted and sexy. Ron had never made her feel sexy.

Yes she was short, but she had curves. She wasn't one of those girls who were all bones and angles, she didn't think that was what a woman should be. It was not an image she strived to achieve unlike a lot of young women these days. Her brown hair was a tamed mane of curls now, not the bushy mess it had been in her youth. Her chocolate eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor, a smile always ready to grace her full lips. Faint freckles spread across her nose, chest and shoulders with long hours spent in the sun over summer. She was a gorgeous young woman who dressed in a way that made her feel good, which in turn made her confidence attractive to other people.

Maybe she would find that love she so craved, the torturous gut wrenching love that one couldn't live without. She should open herself up to it, instead of shutting herself away with her books and parchments.

That night Hermione made the conscious decision to open herself up to love, no matter what form it took.

In a dark room, somewhere deep in the country a woman lay in bed. Deep coughs wracked her body. Her pale hands lay on the coverlet, the bones standing out in an unhealthy way.

"Please Lucius, don't tell him yet. He's so happy, finally. Let him have that a while longer. I don't want my little boy to go back to that dark place." Her blonde hair was lank and her sunken eyes gazed upon her husband who was kneeling on the floor next to the bed. She lifted her hand to wipe away the tear that feel from the grey eyes what were so much like his son's.

end of chapter 2.

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