A/N:Another much too long wait, I know. I'll try to update more regularly from now on, but updates might continue to come slowly for a while, since I've decided to finish the 'Lioness' as quickly as possible in order to concentrate more on 'Had I Known'. Thank you all for your patience and your wonderful support!

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The Day After

0o0

Potter awoke around midnight, and it took him no more than the white ceiling of the infirmary and the sitting figures of Ayda and Shadow by his side to draw the right conclusions.

"No," He snarled, with more anger than Snape had ever seen him express. "Absolutely not. I forbid it!"

"You do not have the power to forbid me anything, Harry," Shadow said mildly. "We are here to protect you, as we promised we would. Nothing you can say will change that."

Ignoring his friends completely, Potter turned his accusing eyes to Snape.

"You promised me not to!" He said, something like betrayal in his voice. Snape was surprised how much these green eyes could burn.

"I promised you not to take you to Ayda," He agreed. "But I also promised to keep your friends informed. To come here was their own decision, and the right one, I believe. Potter," He added after a moment, driven by the strange wish that the man might understand his reasoning. "The Headmaster wanted to invite the Weasley family to the castle. He has scheduled a press conference for tomorrow. There is no way I could treat you under such circumstances. They would probably take you to St. Mungo's or leave you with Poppy, and I won't lose you to the incompetence of wizarding society!"

Realizing how possessive he sounded, Snape snapped his mouth shut and glared at everybody in reach, daring them to comment on his words. But both Shadow and Ayda seemed preoccupied with watching Potter, and the less than willing patient was busy glaring himself.

"I don't care what happens to me," He finally announced after it became clear that none of his parental figures had the slightest wish to add to Snape's words. "But I won't accept that you get yourself into difficulties. And whatever Shadow may say, Ayda, you I can force to leave. I am your leader. You must obey my commands, and I'm commanding you and all the druids to leave this castle immediately and never return!"

"Down to commanding, are we, Harry?" Ayda asked, her humour so dry it resembled dust. "In that case, you had better not forget that the customary duel is overdue. I could challenge you right here, right now, and believe me, in your current state you would not have a chance in hell to beat me. Which would leave me commander, wouldn't it? And my first order would be to stay in the castle and protect you."

She smiled sweetly, like an old grandmother offering apple pie.

Snape could see the muscles in Potter's jaw tightening.

"Don't do this," He pleaded, suddenly sounding as tired as he must feel. "Don't risk everything you built over the years just for me!"

"Whatever the damage, Harry, it is already done," Shadow replied softly, his dark, tender eyes resting on his young friend's face. "We have decided and acted accordingly, and believe me that we didn't make this decision lightly. Every being in this castle volunteered, and I for one am glad to be at your side again."

"Besides, it's all organized already," Ayda added. "The centaurs are patrolling the grounds, the vampires take the night and the druids the day shift. You wouldn't want us to have planned all this in vain, would you, Potter?"

"I would have wanted you to come to your senses before doing this," Potter answered tensely, but something in his face told Snape that he had accepted the facts in that easy, unfazed way of his, had accepted them and adapted.

"Whathave you done, then?" He asked with a sigh, and Ayda treated him to an elaborate description of the glorious invasion of Hogwarts. Snape noticed with resigned amusement that the druid sounded as gleeful has he felt.

It seemed that Potter couldn't help himself. Despite his loudly stated disagreement with their decisions, his lips twitched more than once in amusement during Ayda's story, and when she imitated McGonagall's indignant 'But you can't invade Hogwarts…It just isn't done', quite accurately, actually, he had to suppress a snort.

But his darker thoughts returned soon enough. "And what now?" He asked, his eyes on Snape and Shadow and Ayda, dark with worry and care for them (and how it irritated Snape that he was included in that look). "There's a press conference scheduled for this morning, and you won't be able to control Dumbledore for long! How do you plan to keep all this secret?"

"Leave that to your devious Potions Master," Ayda answered happily. "He's got an evil streak in him."

Snape wondered whether it was right to feel proud about that.

"Professor?" Potter now asked, in a way that showed Snape he had forgiven his former teacher for dragging his friends into danger.

"I believe Ayda will greatly enjoy telling you what I planned. In detail," He said evasively, knowing that the disclosure of his plan would mean another tedious discussion. "The situation in the castle requires my immediate attention."

He saw something akin to suspicion in Potter's eyes, like a child that wondered what the grown ups had decided in his absence, and smirked before once more slipping into the by now well known role of nanny and healer to the Boy Who Lived.

"Sleep," He said. "You will need your strength. We will recommence your treatment in the morning."

Shadow sent him a smile and Ayda a mocking smirk, and then he was on his way, leaving Potter in the care of his friends. There were still many things to do before dawn.

0o0o0o0o0o0oo

"I can't believe you did this, Severus," Minerva repeated for the umpteenth time. "You betrayed us! How could you?"

"How is it that only Gryffindors can use that word in this deeply surprised tone, Minerva?" Snape asked silkily, shamelessly bathing in her outrage. He didn't have to feel guilty that he enjoyed this moment despite the chaos around them – he had earned it, after all.

"SEVERUS!" She howled, too deeply enraged to say more.

He had to fight hard not to grin. There – he had done it: He had rendered Minerva 'Control Queen' McGonagall incoherent. This made him almost forgive Ayda for the knife incident.

"Yes, Minerva?" He asked sweetly.

"You let them invade Hogwarts! Vampires and centaurs and that… horrible old woman!"

"I will have to tell Ayda that you think her worse than vampires," Snape answered, smirking with all his heart. "She will be so pleased!"

"Now really, Severus, this is not the time to joke," Pomona Sprout interjected. The small professor was like a stone in the chaotic ocean that formed the staff of Hogwarts. She alone had made herself comfortable in the staffroom that the teacher had been confined to, and she alone watched him with something else than fury. "I am sure that you would never endanger Hogwarts except for very good reasons. I assume that these reasons have to do with Harry Potter's return. Is that right?"

For a moment, Snape was tempted to ignore this voice of reason and taunt right on. Pomona had always been a spoilsport. But then he had a rather tight schedule to follow, and dawn was approaching rapidly.

"Indeed," He agreed slightly hesitant. "The vampires, centaurs and that horrible old woman are Potter's friends, people he met over the last eight years. He introduced me to them while I was staying with him, and when Dumbledore's behaviour became entirely unreasonable, I saw no other way but to contact them."

"Unreasonable!" Minerva fumed on, and many in the staffroom seemed ready to agree. If Dumbledore had been a figure of light and righteousness during the fight against Voldemort, the last few years had turned him into a saint. One never criticized Dumbledore beyond a few good natured hints about his dottiness. It simply wasn't done.

"Yes, unreasonable," Snape answered, ignoring the way Minerva was gulping down huge amounts of air to ready herself for the next screaming attack. Really, compared to his colleagues the mad druidess and the moody vampire became downright attractive companions!

"From the moment Potter returned to this castle, Dumbledore has been ignoring his explicit wishes. When Potter chose me as his healer – and I assure you that I would prefer that had never happened -, Dumbledore tried everything to control and manipulate Potter through me. When Potter refused to disclose the location of his home, Dumbledore had the audacity to place a tracker on a magical ingredient I was taking with me, knowing that I would never check it out of fear that the spells might compromise the ingredient. This action alone proves that he isn't trustworthy where Potter is concerned. Had I used the unicorn hair the way I intended, Potter might well be dead by now. As things stand, he sent Tonks to follow us, and, as it is bound to happen when Gryffindors take action, Potter was attacked, his home lost and his state of health dangerously affected."

Tonks raised her head and opened her mouth, probably to disagree with his description of the situation, but Snape sent her a single glare and she shut up immediately. Sometimes it was an advantage to have taught Great Britain's dunderheads for more than twenty years – he had ensured that generation after generation was terrified of him and would shut up when he used his classroom face on them.

Pomona's face had lost some of the healthy tan the work outside had given her. As a herbology specialist, she knew well enough what could go wrong when one tampered with magical ingredients.

"He really did that?" She asked quietly, and Snape, immensely enjoying that for once in his life he had the moral upper hand, nodded.

"Indeed," He said again. "After I followed Potter and our resident pea brain," He gestured over to Tonks, who made a barely audible sound of protest in the back of her throat, "Back to Hogwarts, Albus not only released me of my duties towards Potter – despite Potter's earlier decision -, he also scheduled a press conference in which he planned to announce Potter's return to the whole wizarding world. I don't have to tell you what consequences this publicity would have had for Potter's health."

"It would have been a disaster," Pomona whispered, ignoring the reproachful look Minerva sent her way.

Snape nodded again, not bothering to hide his smugness. "Exactly," He said. "I tried to argue with him, but Dumbledore never bothered with the opinion of other's when he had his mind set. So I did the only thing I could."

"The only thing you could?" Minerva repeated bitterly. "I highly doubt that, Severus. After all, you could have tried talking to me, to any of us before you gave Hogwarts up to dark creatures!"

"And you would have stood with me against Dumbledore?" Snape asked, unable to keep the bitterness completely out of his voice. This was Minerva after all, who had, from day one, ignored his opinion and requests on behalf of his Slytherins because she had never quite managed to see beyond house prejudices.

"For the sake of a former student I would have," She answered steadfastly, but the way her eyes were darting through the room told him that not even she fully believed herself.

"Oh, yes," He agreed silkily, not able to withstand the temptation. "He was a Gryffindor, after all. Worthy to be saved."

"Don't be so self righteous, Severus," Minerva was yelling again. Really, it was just too easy. "I am not the one who betrayed Hogwarts!"

"Unlike you, Minerva," Snape hissed. "I never bothered with self righteousness. I was a Death Eater, hell and damnation! I can live with my past mistakes. And I know when I erred. But you won't even accept that you didn't fulfil your duty as teacher or Head of House."

"Don't you dare accuse me of failing as a teacher, Severus Snape," Now he had her down to screeching. But he was too angry himself by now to commiserate his poor ears. "I did my duty where Harry was concerned, and more than that! It wasn't my fault that his parents were killed, or that he was the child of the prophecy! No one could have protected him from that!"

"You were his Head of House!" Snape said, so deeply angry by now that his body was cold as ice. Had everyone in this cursed castle been blind where Potter was involved? "You knew what kind of muggles the Dursleys were, you told me so yourself. And yet you never once questioned Potter about his home life, you never once checked on him, even though he was clearly malnourished when he returned from holidays!

"You were a member of the Order, knowing what rested on his shoulders, but did you, even once, offer to talk about his problems? Did you talk to him when Cedric Diggory died? When his fifth year was plagued by visions? When his godfather fell through the veil? Did you even once question the assurances Dumbledore gave you and decided to look for yourself? Or did you trust him blindly with the life of your student?"

"But Albus wanted only the best for Mr Potter! He wouldn't ever have mistreated the boy! He loves him, Severus, more than I thought prudent for a Headmaster."

Snape snorted. "I always said that love was overrated," He said. "Responsibility, however, that can never be taken seriously enough. A bit less love from you and a bit more concentration on your job might have been just the thing Potter would have needed."

"Iwas concentrating on my job!"

"Then why weren't you protecting him all the times that his life was threatened? Where were you when he was forced to spend his summers with those relatives of his?"

McGonagall sighed. "I am the first to admit that Potter's life was rough, Severus, rougher than that of a boy should be. But surely you exaggerate. The situation was less than ideal, yes, but Albus had a limited choice of options, and I do believe he chose the best. He wouldn't harm a child."

Snape glared at her and saw her shifting in her seat.

"I have seen it all, Minerva," He said, very calmly and very coldly. He felt uneasy doing this, but he knew that the alternative, to let the press investigate on its own, was even less acceptable. "I've been in his mind. I've seen the things he never told you about. He lived in a cupboard, Minerva. They broke his wrist when he was five. When he was six, they nearly killed him in an effort to beat the 'freakishness' out of him. When he was ten, he had more scars and injuries than most war veterans do. When Hagrid came for him, he had learned not to question his lot in life. When he was eleven and battled Quirell, he had learned that no one would ever come for him, that he would have to stand up for himself. He learned this, and acted according to it, although Albus Dumbledore was waiting in the shadows for things to run their course. When he was twelve, he nearly died. He was poisoned and fought to an inch of his life, and no one bothered caring for him. And I will not even start speaking of the emotional traumas Diggory's and Black's death left him with, or what the rebirth of the Dark Lord did to him."

He took a deep breath and saw that Minerva's face had turned very pale, that Tonks' wide eyes were staring at him in horror.

"When he had killed Voldemort, he wanted to die. He tried to kill himself over and over again because he believed his use had ended, because someone in this castle had convinced him that his only reason to go on living was killing the monster we – not he – had created. And now, eight years after he has vanished, he returns a grown and mature man, and the first thing Albus does is taking every shred of dignity and self control from him, as if he was the eleven year old Boy Who Lived all over again. Now, if you please, tell me in how far I exaggerated."

"You are lying," She whispered, but it was a desperate denial in the face of the truth.

"What reason could I have, Minerva," He answered mildly. "I have always hated Potter, and I resented that I was forced to treat him. Tell me, why should I not be relieved now that the Headmaster is going to take over his treatment?"

"But he can't have…"

"Potter is alive despite the Headmaster, not because of him. And this time around, Dumbledore is not only risking the life of a student in his care, he is gambling with the fate of our entire world."

A long silence followed, one that Snape didn't dare break. Despite his taunting, despite his open opposition he needed these people for his plan to run smoothly. He had no wish to see the castle in a continued state of war, no matter how much Ayda would enjoy harassing the wizards.

"I agree," Pomona Sprout finally said, her voice solemn and her face grave. "If Albus did indeed do these things, and I trust Severus to tell us the truth, it is our duty to stand with Mr Potter. Even against the Headmaster."

One after another, the teachers nodded. Only Argus Filch, leaning against the wall in a silent show of outrage, didn't look convinced. But then there wasn't much a squib could do against the invasion of Hogwarts.

Minerva watched them, silently, before turning towards Snape and meeting his gaze with a strange glitter in her eyes.

„I hadn't realized you cared so much about Harry, Severus," she slowly said.

"This isn't about care," Snape sneered, frustrated that she still wouldn't understand and slightly worried that he would have to put up with sentimental interpretations of his behaviour from now on, "This is about duty, Minerva. We've wronged him in the past, more than once, and the least we can do now is to make sure that we act according to his will, not to Dumbledore's."

"And because of that duty you betrayed Hogwarts?"

"As far as I am concerned," Snape answered coldly. "Dumbledore betrayed this castle and all that it supposedly stands for when he destroyed the life of a student in his care, over and over again. I don't think that is what the Headmaster of a school should do. Do you?"

She didn't react to this – not that he had expected her to -, but after a moment she too nodded, and, joining the other teachers so that she could stand between Tonks and Pomona, asked: "What do you want us to do?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I still can't believe that you got Tonks to impersonate Dumbledore," Potter said quietly, his eyes on the dancing flames in Snape's fireplace.

They had moved to his chambers after Potter's discomfort at staying in the infirmary – and being visited by druids, centaurs, vampires and staff every other minute - had become just too obvious to be ignored.

Snape wasn't sure how he felt about Potter sitting on his sofa, watching his fireplace and drinking tea from one of his cups, but he certainly wasn't as enraged as he would have been a week ago, or three days.

"It was memorable," Snape agreed, "Especially the part when she nearly fell off the podium and blamed it on the 'feebleness of approaching old age'."

Tonks had been stunned when he had explained his plan, wearing that facial expression of surprised stupidity that seemed to be her main characteristic these days, and Minerva had refused outright, yelling that they would not impersonate Dumbledore and orchestrate his approaching retirement.

Snape had countered with a detailed description of what the contaminated unicorn hair would have done to Potter had he digested it. Detailed. With all the blood and gore and the consequent return of Voldemort in the flesh. It had been a triumph of vivid vocabulary, subtle threads and close knowledge of what pain the human body could go through.

Minerva had paled at the description and had been rather subdued afterwards. Tonks had agreed without problem.

And that's the way the human mind has worked for millennia, Snape had thought, darkly amused. Tell them a scary story and they will do what you want.

And do what he wanted they had. Tonks had managed a spot on performance of Dumbledore, twinkling eyes, lemon drops and barminess nicely combined to the best effect. It had, to be honest, rather restored Snape's belief in her mental capacities – or had it destroyed his last belief in Dumbledore's? It really shouldn't have been so easy to imitate a centuries old genius, should it?

Then Tonks had delivered the little speech Snape had prepared, in which there was a great deal of Gryffindor-sentimentality and Dumbledore-madness and a little bit of common sense that would hopefully slip by unnoticed (this was, he had learned during many painful years, the only way to teach most dunderheads: a lot of drama to divert attention from the actual facts sneaking in through the back door). Tonks' Dumbledore had declared that after his many years of teaching he had begun to feel his old age and wanted to use this press conference to move some of the burden from his frail to younger, most competent shoulders. Minerva's, that is.

And Minerva had stepped forward, with a last glare towards Snape, and had most gracefully accepted her new duties of assistant-Headmistress, before wishing the journalists a curt goodbye and ushering them out of the castle with her usual crisp efficiency.

And all the while Snape had stood in the background of the scene, trying hard not to gloat and even harder not to smirk broadly at the thought of Dumbledore, who was hidden away in a third floor classroom with Ayda and Chairon as company.

That happened when you tried to cross a Slytherin, old man!

Some of that smugness must have shown on his face, for Potter chuckled softly and nodded as if in agreement.

Potter had protested what they had done at first, in contrast to Ayda, who had grinned gleefully and asked if she could prepare a list of things she had always wanted to hear Dumbledore announce.

But Snape had told him to mind his own business, and Ayda had told him not to spoil his Potions Professor's fun, and Shadow had informed him that the alternatives consisted of Imperioes or Obliviates or worse violations of the Headmaster's free will, and Potter had given in.

For a moment, Snape had been tremendously glad that they had invaded Hogwarts. Potter was so much easier to handle with his mad druid and his bipolar vampire near.

Then, Ayda had turned to Snape and told him that he was an 'evil, evil person'. It had sounded like a compliment.

And now the press was satisfied, and Dumbledore taken care of, and the staff had – for the most part – accepted the presence of their minders.

Which left Snape and Potter free to return to their main priority. The treatment of Potter's illness. In Snape's quarters.

But Potter, instead of concentrating on what they had to do, was stalling. He had begun by heaping an outrageous amount of compliments on Snape's living arrangements. Then he had requested tea. Then he had asked Snape how the staff were treating him and how he felt about it – by this time Snape had seen through his façade and started sneering. Not even someone decidedly less intelligent than Potter would have asked Snape about his feelings and seriously expected an answer.

After the discussion of the press conference there would only be left the weather, and Snape would be damned if he talked about that. Snape sighed. They did not have time for this.

"What's the matter, Potter?" He asked, his tone several degrees softer than the usual taunting sneer. "Afraid of the past?"

Without a moment of hesitation or insecurity, Potter nodded.

"Yes," He answered quietly, and his simple honesty once more disarmed Snape totally.

Snape didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to adults admitting that they were afraid. Fear had always been a weakness to him, something one mustn't ever confess. Just another difference between him and Potter, who even seemed relieved by his wors.

"I don't want to see this," Potter suddenly confessed. "It's a haze in my mind, a red haze of anger and hate and sorrow. I don't want to go through it again."

Snape wanted to scoff at that and say something derogatory, but then he remembered how painful some these memories had been even for himself, whose life had not been ripped apart like that.

"I understand," He said, and it was nothing but the truth.

Potter nodded again, and, meeting his eyes, smiled softly. For a moment they sat in silence, like brothers of arms preparing for a fight, then Potter straightened, rose from his seat by the fireplace and stroked his hair back in an unconscious gesture.

"Let's go," He then said. "The past is waiting."