BlueWater5: This is one of the most significant sub-plot/plots within this story, and I'll be delving a lot into it once things begin unravelling :)

PearlM21: Exactly the type of issues I'll be going through in this story, as I feel Slytherin House would have been hit far harder and feel the effects of Voldemort's reign even long after the War. I had a really deep think about this, and it makes me feel so much empathy for a House grooming and conditioning their students in the ways of Voldemort (and I suppose Salazar himself) ideology. Elitism ruined the House over the span of decades, and it will take much healing for the House to undergo enough repair to be apart of the school once again, without the past to unfairly judge them.

Zeugma412: Thank you so much! That theme is going to be explored in depth within my story, because it is one of the things I have been wanting to address for a while.

Author's Notes: Introducing one of the rare alternative POV's within this story :) Hope you enjoy this one!

"There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."

― Laurell K. Hamilton

CHAPTER 6: Walls of Glass

February 5th, 2002

[Minerva McGonagall]

"Albus, I have this handled. Rubeus can only do so much."

"Be that as it may, it will be wise to consult a further opinion. This is the fifth incident in three years."

"We have nothing else to go on. Even Dawn is bewildered but does not appear overly concerned."

"It warrants further investigation."

"I am aware of that – Another dead centaur close to school grounds is obviously not something to be dismissed, but the others will not allow our direct consult. They've threatened us once already."

Minerva paced the headmaster's office several times around, glancing helplessly at the equally bewildered portrait of Albus Dumbledore hanging on the wall beside the arch window. A dull, overcast light emanated through the stained coloured glass, casting dull patterns of red, blue, and green on the stone and marble floor. Her black and grey robes fluttered aimlessly beside her, as she rounded the office for the tenth time in her bid to figure out what was going on.

Another centaur was found dead overnight, and Rubeus had discovered the creature laying lifelessly by the pumpkin patch, with remnants of rope threads around its neck. It was indeed odd for a centaur to have ventured this close to the school grounds, which immediately raised suspicion with the Groundskeeper. The centaur – Silas – was found strangled by rope at a large oak tree with no signs of struggle. Rubeus had reported that the creature appeared to have done it himself, but it seemed almost impossible. Minerva at first did not believe such a claim, but the worried look on his face told her that this was far more serious than she immediately led herself to believe.

It was not in the nature of a centaur to take their own life and for lack of honor to their own kind, certainly not in this way. They were dignified creatures and taking their own life was almost considered blasphemy. But this was not the first creature to have lost its life recently. Four more lives before him were taken in a similar fashion over the span of two years. The first few did not raise too much suspicion as Rubeus had found two Thestrals in separate incidences. Then the third incident, a unicorn foal, was found drowned within the Black Lake, alerted by the Merpeople the following day. The fourth incident was the very first centaur, which was found with its wrists and hooves slit and dead by the herbology greenhouses, which was unfortunately found by a traumatized second-year student who ended up requiring counseling.

And now another centaur had indeed perished. Minerva was at a loss as to what to do.

She did however inform Dawn of the incident, but considering Aurors only ever dealt with Dark Wizards, this was slightly out of her league. So, Rubeus was determined to get to the bottom of this as the entire situation saddened him immensely. It was just not in the nature of the centaur according to Rubeus, and Minerva trusted his opinion on the matter.

In all Minerva's frustration, she bid Albus' portrait a disheartened farewell and exited the office to make her way down to the evening feast, passing large groups of bustling students as she did. Once she entered the Great Hall, she immediately made her way to the staff table at the front and settled herself at the headmaster's chair waiting eagerly for the students to fill their seats. As the minutes ticked away both the staff and students' tables were full and the feast began, watching as plates of all sorted dishes appeared in front of them. As much as the aroma of freshly cooked seasoned potato and roasted beef which had once invigorated her senses, she seemed to have disappointingly lost her appetite.

On one side, Horace was engaged into conversation with Varick Addison, the warm-natured Transfiguration teacher. Amusingly, Minerva hid her grin behind her goblet of water, knowing full well Varick was trying to be polite against Horace's usual boastful small talk. On the opposite side, she could see Sybill mumbling to herself whilst she aimlessly shifted food around her plate, and Gregory Aylesworth, the Muggle Studies teacher, remained quiet and to himself as he always did. Dawn was in a deep conversation with Filius, which appeared so engaging that neither of them ate a thing on their plates. Meanwhile, Pomona and Rubeus were laughing away on the other side with their hearty infectious chuckles, earning more than a few curious stares from the nearby Ravenclaw table.

She smiled to herself in her bid to erase the previous deep look of apprehension on her face for others to take note. As Headmistress of Hogwarts, she had a measure of composition and professionalism that was required of her. If at all she faltered, the staff and students around her would sense it. She needed control if she was ever able to set the people around her at ease and project some measure of peace. It was something that Albus had obviously mastered during his long years as Headmaster, but she was still trying to invoke that sort of quiet power.

Minerva, however, had far too much running through her mind and issues on the agenda that she was yet to address. Not only was the death of the centaur raising enough worry, but she had fraught Slytherins who would barely approach their own Head of House, let alone the Gryffindor Headmistress. She had Potter and Longbottom in preparation for their teaching year and having to rearrange and accommodate the ever-changing academic curriculum, which in turn, was placing far too much strain with the current staff. And lack of. With that, she had Albus' portrait who would not stop hounding her about such matters, and Kingsley kindly prodding her along with the staff audits for the year. Along with that, she was preparing the OWL and NEWT students for exams, as with hosting the School Board for the upcoming task of leading them. To top that all off, she had yet to pay Severus a visit to request his return.

…Again.

Severus – She really missed Severus. He would know what to do.

Filius as Deputy Headmaster was efficient, but Severus…She could really do with that blunt honesty she used to be irritated at hearing. He was exceptional and professional, and hearing his realism no matter how brutal it could be was somewhat reassuring to the elderly witch who knew him for so many years. No wonder Albus had such a fondness for even his darker demeanor. The Slytherins were clearly in distress, and she could not seem to manage them. They were still lost and afraid and their grades were equally as worrisome matching their plummeting manner. They needed guidance, and even Horace was at a loss as to how to approach them. He was thoughtful and patient, but he struggled to truly empathize with their situation. It was almost like he was trying to avoid such a personal issue.

Severus may very well be the perfect person to aid them but convincing him to return had been an endless task, which often resulted in minimal responses of dismissal, or simply no responses at all.

Year after year, she would send him owls in a bid to coax him to return. But he was simply far too troubled to. Understandably, of course. She knew very well the idea of it invoked a rare fear within him. But she also knew that things were different now and she had to somehow help Severus to realize that and overcome such deep-rooted doubts. After Harry raised his own concerns when she had shown him the letter, made the quest even more dire. They were both equally worried for him and as his oldest friend, she also had a duty to support him in anyway that she could. Or as much as he would allow her to.

Minerva sighed wishfully to herself. Perhaps a glass of wine would do the trick on her way back to her office, after all. Merlin, she really needed it.

Amongst the usual crescendo of voices within the hall after everyone had their fill of food, Horace leaned in towards Minerva with a light clearing of his throat. "Mind if I see you in your office after dinner?"

"Again?" Minerva clenched her jaw subtly, knowing full well this was the same issue he had been asking frequently about for weeks, "Is this about your request again?"

"Well, perhaps. Yes…of sorts, " Horace appeared slightly jittery, "I know, I keep asking…"

Minerva tried her best not to appear visually annoyed with it, so she straightened up in her seat and gave him her full attention. This was only the third time he had asked in the last few weeks, and he had been nothing but persistent in his request. "Horace, I have not had the time to follow this up."

Horace's shoulder's slumped a little in defeat, soon taking a nervous sip from his goblet, "Yes, of course. My apologies…It's just…I was hoping to make it official in time for the end of the school year."

"I am well aware, " Minerva paused in thought, "I could perhaps negotiate some sort of medium with him. We can discuss an agreement. For the time being."

The Potions professor shrugged, as he lightly adjusted his coat not completely hopeful with the idea, "I suppose I could agree to something to that effect. I have been looking forward to retirement and it seems it has been something too far out of reach in the last few years."

"I know, Horace. With the extension to Potions, I have been apologetically overworking you. Kingsley and I are working on fixing it, I assure you, " Minerva said, lowering her voice slightly, "Things will get better eventually. We have all been under immense stress."

Horace nodded, "I understand. Forgive me, Minerva. I don't mean to make this far more difficult than it already is. I will discuss this next week with you instead."

"That would be most wise, " She responded, sharply.

Feeling slightly more relieved, Minerva nodded, turning back to her half-eaten plate of food which had now turned disappointingly cold. As the students were finally beginning to file out of the Great Hall, Minerva rose up from her table and made a beeline through the crowds and back to her office where she went straight to the wine cabinet at the sitting room behind the desk.

Passing by Albus' portrait, she waved her hand dismissively ignoring what would most likely be a look on childish amusement at the man's face, "Say not a word, Albus."

Albus' eyes gleamed humorously behind the painting, speaking gently to the obviously stressed-out Headmistress, "…I'll leave you be."

Minerva poured herself a little more than a generous goblet of sweet dark red wine and settled herself on the couch by the fire, taking a well-needed sip.

She definitely had her work cut out for her.

February 6th, 2002

[Severus Snape]

Severus was unable to rest.

At barely quarter past three in the morning, he had awoken with a startling jolt in time for Nagini to wrap her cold and scaley form around his bleeding neck. He rose with a sickening gasp, feeling the air being constricted from his windpipe as if she was still there lurking in the shadows. It took him a few moments to realise that it was all but a nightmare and that he was lying in bed in a pool of his own sweat staring at the glittering spots of light cast from the moonlit window and the leafless tree beside it. Remaining still for a few moments in silence to regain his bearings, he gently closed his heavy eyes feeling the wild beats of his heart thumping painfully within his chest in order to ground himself and erase the hissing of the snake from the dark crevices of his memory.

Sometimes it just wasn't worth sleeping at all. Every night was the same – either his nightmares of the past woke him up, or his shadowed thoughts of the present kept him from gaining a restful sleep. He just wanted a night of peace. He wanted his thoughts gone and his horror-filled dreams to cease, and Dreamless Sleep potions were not helping him in the slightest. Another hiss from Nagini, a word of warning and a cold threat from Riddle, or a scream from an innocent life murdered before him, sent him straight back into the past again. Each nightmare felt like facing him all over again, and he hated it. He hated every lucid moment of the confrontation, nightmares or not. The fact that it had happened, sent Severus reeling and goosebumps rippling against his pale skin.

Even in his nightmares, he could not get away from Riddle or Nagini.

Shakily rising from the bed, he made his way to the bathroom to douse himself in icy cold water to shock his senses back to the present. He needed to wake up, since attempting to sleep again was no longer an option and the thought of venturing back into the things that still haunted him was something he really could not bear to deal with again that day. Something to occupy his mind would be a start in the right direction, despite it still being the middle of the night.

Once he had finished from the reinvigorating shower and was careful not to glimpse his wary scarred form in the mirror, he threw on a casual wardrobe and stumbled his way to his potion's lab at the back of the house. With careful hands, he ran his fingers over his completed potions in the cabinet along the wall and pulled out a dull aqua-hued one in order to quell the rising headache forming at his temple. He needed something to take the edge off and the bottle of firewhiskey he consumed late the previous evening did not help matters. One half a glass to settle his nerves, turned into the entire contents emptied in one sitting. He wasn't proud of his efforts, but he was too exhausted to care about it too much.

He was desperate to wash away the pain, even for a little while. And it wasn't as if he had anywhere else to be.

Drawing in a deep breath, he waved his hand over the single candle at the wooden table and wandlessly summoned a single flame, immediately casting the room into a dull flickering orange glow. He slid over the cutting board and rounded up a handful of dried rose petals from the labelled container on the shelf. Severus scooped up a handful and threw them onto the cutting board wrinkling his nose at the new fresh scent of the dried flowers. Retrieving one of the broader knives, he began finely chopping the petals into smaller pieces, not quite in ground form.

The sound of the knife against the board in the stillness of the night was somewhat therapeutic. Granted, he needed more than that to settle his wary nerves. But the quietness of the night and the silence that invoked his space at the ungodly hour was refreshing to his racing mind which had desperately needed the reprieve. The nightmares he could not control, but at least in his waking state, he could be a little more disciplined with his mind. The thoughts, however suffocating; he was at least able to temporarily silence them. Pushing away all his unsavory thoughts and feelings was not always ideal, but it was what he was used to. After all, employing Occlumency in the face of his enemy every single day for many years was by no means, an easy feat. Having your mind assaulted and needled for answers by the greatest – and darkest – Legilimens the world had seen by far, was not something that could be accomplished by just anyone.

Trained by Albus himself, he was able to shield his mind from the unwanted intrusion, sealing away his most precious memories and emotions as if he was locking them away in the most intricate labyrinth of a treasure chest. The key, buried ever so deep within his mind, so the thief could not find it. His most prized and dearest memories showing his sacred loyalty and burdened love were hidden away from the eyes of the sorcerer.

Successfully.

Riddle was simply not strong enough to break through completely, no matter how hard he tried. And tried so feverishly, he did. However, he could blame a lot of that on Riddle's ignorance and inability to believe one of his own would ever betray him. Of course, the multitude of the memories Severus had planted within his mind for him to view were faked and distorted, so Riddle was none the wiser. Severus showed him what he wanted to see in which there was genuine proof of, although most of what he had shown was far from the actual truth. Skewed, certainly. But warped enough to satisfy his old master, enough so that even he could not question his loyalty.

What a fool…

Amongst his trailing thoughts, the knife slipped from his grasp and sliced a small laceration by his fingernail. Drops of blood stained the cutting board and Severus growled under his breath with his carelessness during his distraction. The rose petals were tainted from his blood and Severus cursed under his breath knowing full well he had ruined the preparation and had to remove the now-tainted ingredients.

Removing his wand from his robes, he waved it over the ruined petals, vanishing it all completely upon turning to his own wound, and enacted a simple healing spell. He had some fresh roses within his garden, but he needed to prune them and allow them to dry naturally. More wasted time.

He was working on a new potion – one which he had begun several years ago but had managed to procure only a few half-finished results. Trial and error, as they say. Well, this one had far too many errors. As delicate as this potion was, he couldn't afford the blunders. Testing them already was not doing him any favours but someone had to deal with the full force of its ill-effects in order to figure out how to minimise them. It was a lengthy potion and one he was determined to bring it to its utmost perfection. The less side effects he could produce, the better the brew. Of course, its primary function needed to be perfect. After all, this could benefit the wizarding world and heal many still suffering from the ill-effects of the war.

The worst, however, were the ingredients. Not only did he barely have enough galleons to scrape even the most basic of materials these troubled days, but most of them required them to be grown, found, or hunted. He had his own little greenhouse which was containing some of the rarer finds. But some of the live ingredients were hard to obtain without stepping on illegal grounds. On the rare occasion he did find himself out of the house, he would scour the plains and the woodlands to find what he needed. But with each failed experiment, the ingredients dwindled and replenishing them was almost tiresome and financially draining. However, he knew that if this potion reached success, he would surely earn back that coin rather comfortably. His Animo Silentium elixir was popular…For a short while. But once Rita Skeeters' book became public, those commissions faded into nothing. No one wanted to trust him again after that.

So now, he was trying something else. Something that would be considered ground-breaking, and maybe there was a way he could earn that trust again.

Somehow.

Severus tinkered away at his lab, working tirelessly until the first rays of the morning pierced the fume-filled room. The scent of smoked bark and salt irritated his senses, but he was still nowhere near a completed brew. He had already begun to switch up some of the ingredients and their preparation to change the desired effect, but he seemed to have failed miserably. His mind just would not cooperate. He had already scrapped a full brew just a week prior, as he had muddled up the amount of dragon's blood and dried unicorn skin. Not the most ideal since those ingredients were hard to come by.

Feeling exhausted and foggy, he decided to take a short break. His weary muscles were screaming for rest but there was no way he'd attempt to sleep again anytime soon. Insomnia burned through his body, feeling lethargic and sluggish within his movements. But he tried his best to soldier on despite the still-persisting headache.

He wandered back into his kitchen and opened the almost bare fridge. He really needed to clean it out, but he had other things he'd rather attend to. He curled his lip knowing full well there was nothing new to be found in there. He wrinkled his nose trying to figure out what had expired, but he was not in the mood to be dealing with that mystery. Slamming it shut, he decided to reach for the half-bruised red apple at the kitchen counter and bit into it. It wasn't pleasant, but he didn't have much on hand. He hadn't eaten since the previous morning, so he finally gave in and realized he should not attempt to function on an empty stomach. It was no wonder the firewhiskey had hit him like a herd of Hippogriffs. He should have known better.

Once the light of the early morning began to bother him and his headache was still a nuisance, he moved around his abode and shut the curtains with a flick of his wand as he went. The darkness instantly felt comfortable to his senses and the light was no longer a problem. His insomnia did not help with the sensitivity, but it was the best thing he could do to combat the symptoms.

Already he was in no mood to deal with the day.

Drawing in a deep breath he stood still for a moment, relishing in the quietness of his home. He could hear the faint sounds of the goldfinches searching his garden for berries in the cold wintery day. There were remnants of snow a few days ago, which had now since settled but had coated his garden with a thin white blanket. The robins had been rummaging through his blackberry hedge within the past month, which he tried to set up some basic defenses for. The berries were used mostly for homemade jams to his liking, but it was the blackberry leaves and the roots which he used as potions ingredients. Keeping them intact was challenging through the winter months, even despite the shelter he had constructed for his own garden.

His trailed thoughts were suddenly stirred when there was a hasty knock on his wooden door. He grumbled to himself as he stood still, hoping that they might reconsider and go away.

…Who the bloody hell is that?

But a few more persistent knocks were heard, and Severus knew that they would not be leaving anytime soon. Finally succumbing to the intrusion, he shuffled his way to the front door and opened it to reveal Minerva McGonagall standing bundled in her emerald green and black robes.

"Severus! Oh good, you're here."

Severus raised an eyebrow, eyeing her dully, "Where else would I be?"

"Are you going to let me in, or are you hoping I'd freeze on your doorstep?"

Pursing his lips, he stood aside and allowed the elderly witch to brush past him and into his home. It had definitely been a long while since she was here, so it felt rather odd to have the additional guest. Harry alone was surprising enough, but he generally expects no one else. He closed the door gently and watched as Minerva eyed his home suspiciously, definitely not being subtle about it. She turned to face the man, looking sternly at his irritated demeanour upon her arrival.

After a moment, eventually, her gaze softened as her hands were clasped neatly in front of her. A small longing smile played at the corner of her lips, "Severus…it's been a long while."

"Indeed, it has, " Severus frowned slightly but moved swiftly past her, leading the woman to the grey sofa chairs in the loungeroom, devoured of light. Silently complying with the non-verbal suggestion, Minerva followed soon taking a seat and watching Severus rather suspiciously. Severus however, remained standing as he turned to light the fireplace with his wand. A dull glow and an immediate warmth followed, as the room suddenly felt a little more welcoming.

The woman clasped her hands neatly over her lap, "Albus has been asking about you."

Severus was occupied with the fireplace, as he responded rather bitterly, "Am I expected to be bothered by that?"

Minerva pursed her lips, "Of course not."

Severus turned sharply around to face her with a scowl etched across his pallid face, "Stop doing his dirty work, Minerva. He's only a portrait."

The woman folded her arms across her chest, eyeing him carefully, "So says the man who followed his orders for an entire year, after his death."

Severus winced, slightly, "Of course I followed his orders. And look where that landed me! Hence why you must also be warned of it."

There was a short silence that followed between them, and the tension seemed to rise so sharply. He didn't want to talk about Albus' dastardly plan, or the year in hell he spent occupying the headmaster's office. Severus wasn't stupid – he knew why she was here. Within the pause, Minerva's sharp gaze swept through the unmanaged abode, knowing full well she was delaying asking him those same burning questions everyone else had been pressuring him about. "…Severus, your upkeep is atrocious."

"Surely you did not come all this way to judge me on my personal space?"

Minerva turned solemnly to face him as she slowly removed her spectacles and placed them neatly back into her front pocket, "I am almost tempted to send you a house elf. Why not take Kreacher on board?"

"I do not need a house elf, " Severus clicked his tongue in annoyance, "Especially not one once immersed in the house of Black. I have endured enough of that wretched place. I desire no one else taking up residence in my own home."

The woman retained her prudence, "Unmanaged chores are one thing but neglecting them entirely…I haven't seen your hair that lengthy since you began working at Hogwarts."

"Let me be, Minerva. I do not require your coddling."

"Am I not allowed to express my concerns?"

"No".

"You know I cannot ignore this, " Minerva's voice was firm, but there was an eagerness in her voice which felt uneasy to his ears.

Severus couldn't help but curl his lip, "Typical Gryffindors – You and Harry appear to be tag-teaming for my attention. Don't think I am not aware of it."

Minerva was taken aback, "Stop that nonsense, Severus. Harry and I are equally worried."

"Why? Is space too much to ask for?"

"For how long must you be willing to hide away like this?"

"For as long as arcanely possible, " Severus then looked away, "I just want to be left alone."

"I haven't seen you so unkept since Voldemort's return - " Minerva paused for a moment, purposely giving Severus some time to cool down. She took a few breaths of re-composure and ensured she approach this issue far more delicately, " - Look, I spoke to my connections at St. Mungo's, and I am aware you no longer work there – "

" – Don't lie, Harry told you, didn't he?" Severus interjected, coldly.

Minerva paused again, allowing her stern expression to gradually melt away. Her thin lips released their previous tension until they drooped, and her blue eyes followed suite as they appeared to gloss over. The woman moved a trembling aged hand over her chest, "Severus, please. Please, see reason. You've been ignoring our concerns for years now. Our intentions are not of ill-will and we simply want the best for you."

"If you want the best for me, then you will leave me well enough alone."

"That is not the way, and I will not allow you to spiral down like this, " Minerva stared at the man as her intense gaze pierced through his challenging darker ones for several moments, studying his every move. But eventually she gave in, until her thinned lips curved into a warm, yet small mischievous smile. "Come home, Severus."

One he had not seen for quite some time.

Severus' heart jumped slightly in his chest, feeling a small sense of nostalgia upon the woman's face, reminding him of the times they wanted to conspire cunningly against the likes of Dolores and Gilderoy. Or the times their friendly banter overtook the commentary during the Quidditch matches of Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Or when Minerva dropped a foaming sweet within Filius' morning tea whilst his head was turned, causing his beverage to bubble and overflow all over the staff table in the Great Hall. Or when Albus had instructed the portraits to sing happy birthday to Irma Pince, earning the woman's extra foul mood through the entirety of that day. Or Minerva's sour expression when she discovered he had deducted a single point from Gryffindor when Mr. Finnigan breathed too loudly during a silent study period.

The familiarity of her presence was indeed welcoming but risking such pleasantries again caused him much doubt and the pain of losing that small piece of comfort was far too great. He wanted to warm up to that again, but he simply felt he had lost all willpower to succumb to it. Deep down he did miss her company, but she couldn't begin to truly understand his predicament. He couldn't begin to tell her how deeply wounded and miserable he felt, and he knew that she may never truly comprehend those struggles that only he suffered with.

The loneliness through grief was a terrible thing to endure because he knew deep down, that he deserved to sit with that plummeting sadness. He deserved to live in misery because everyone he had ever connected with either was hurt by his hand or had given up on him. He deserved repulsion towards him – it was only a fitting self-punishment for his life filled with nothing but terrible misdeeds.

Building another wall around his fragile heart was the safest thing for him at this time. It was painful, but it was the only way.

Severus frowned, as he looked towards her as if she had lost her marbles, "No, Minerva."

"You're not even going to consider it?"

"The answer is still no."

Minerva threw her hands up, growing frustrated with his sour attitude, "And why, pray tell, are you still so insistent of that?"

"You know why I simply cannot go back. I cannot walk back through those doors as if I've returned from a joyous holiday!" Severus, still hesitant to sit, began to pace the room. Not even the warmth of the fire could soothe his racing heart. He ached for another glass of whiskey, but he couldn't risk that in the woman's presence.

"Horace wants to retire, or at least has agreed to reduce his classroom hours. I've tried to haggle with him that much. There is no one else I'd rather have there, than you, Severus. You are, no doubt, competent."

Severus made a dismissive noise, curling his lip coldly as he did so, "Yes, Minerva, so competent I had to witness the Carrows torture my students under my wing as Headmaster. I beg to differ. You seem to have forgotten that I was Headmaster overseeing some of those students who still attend. What makes you think they would be so receptive as to allow me back?"

Minerva's face fell, "They all know you had no choice."

"That is not the point. The fact is, that it happened."

"Albus entrusted you to the task. Voldemort also so happened to elect that task to you by a sheer miracle. We must be thankful it was no one else, because if one of the others had taken hold, we would have had far more innocent casualties."

Severus paused for a moment; his head spun, causing him to briefly close his eyes. It was still a very painful moment in his life, and he would forever feel immense guilt over it. What had happened there – the Dark Year, as it was so-called – was atrocious and vile. And yes, Severus had no choice but to let it happen and intervene as much as he could within his undercover limitations. Hearing the screams of young children who were meant to be safe within the walls of Hogwarts, hurt him deeply against his rigid, blank physical demeanor hiding the excruciating pain within. Children under his care were injured and tortured and Severus was unable to do much to help them without blowing his delicate cover. Sure, no child died under his care, but they were frequently tortured and abused.

They all had the scars to prove it, and not all scars were physical.

That alone was enough to haunt Severus forever and is still one of the many things he would always blame himself for.

"…They now know of your previous role, Severus, and they didn't prior to that."

Severus lowered his now shaking voice, "…It does not erase what I did."

"It does not, but they also realise what you were to accomplish in the fight against Voldemort, " Minerva's expression softened again, trying desperately to reassure him, "You're not a terrible person, Severus. You have support now. Allies…Friends. A year, Severus. Try and year and see how it fares for you. I require an additional Professor to teach Potions and I am yet to find an alternative for the task."

"You've interviewed no one else?" Severus appeared annoyed.

"I have, but neither of them is as skilled nor as dedicated as you. I value you, Severus."

Severus shook his head as he slowly perched himself beside the woman, "I was hoping to leave that all behind me, Minerva. Far behind."

"It's been almost four years. Things are not the same as they were. Perhaps it would not be as terrible as you anticipate it to be? You're not required to prepare the students for war this time, " Minerva smiled fondly and briefly for a moment, as Severus' heart skipped another weary beat, "Besides…It would be nice to welcome you back home even for a short while. Quidditch matches are not the same without your roasting sarcasm, Severus."

Severus eyed her warily, feeling his voice croak with each word, "Surely someone else's company would have sufficed far more than my own?"

The older woman's grey-blue eyes were now pleading, and Severus could have sworn he saw them glaze over, "Is it so wrong to say that I missed working with my dear friend? You've been far too recluse in the last few years, and we hardly see you at all. I'm truly worried for you."

"It's not a crime to want to remain solitary, especially after the War's end, " Severus responded with a languid tone, against the pelting winds outside against the windowpane.

"It's certainly no sin to want time for yourself, but Severus, the change will do you well. I can re-assign your old quarters if Horace agrees and if you require any extra time off, I'm sure we can figure out a system to accommodate. Besides, Mr. Potter will be commencing his practical apprenticeship this year. Afterwards, he will take the full reins upon the subject and I daresay, the extra guidance will be highly beneficial."

Severus raised an eyebrow, irritably, "And that's supposed to further reinforce my decision?"

"Well…of course not, but – Oh for heaven's sake, you are far too worried, I can tell. Just a year, Severus. Consider it, please. That is all I ask of you. I want my colleague and friend back and I trust no one else with the position."

"This is a terrible mistake, " Severus was no doubt, worried out of his mind. His stomach began to churn as the thought of it made him ill.

Minerva shook her head, "No, it is not. Far from it. But there is another thing I must bring to your attention, and it is important that you are to be made aware."

Severus snapped, a little too annoyingly, not particularly liking where this conversation was going, "What is it?"

The Headmistress paused for a moment to gather her thoughts and Severus could see her trying to carefully formulate the right response. He knew very well this was not going to be pleasant, "The Slytherins have been deeply troubled…for quite some time. I've had to send several to see Healers and grant them leave because they have not been able to cope with the…well, fallout. Some of the other students from other Houses are still treating them with some disdain and many refuse to engage with them anymore. Horace, as good as a professor as he is, is simply not equipped to guide the Slytherins effectively on a personal level."

And there it is. Why did this all sound so familiar?

His heart dropped from his chest, and he could feel the old apple churning sickeningly within his stomach. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could this happen? How could a House – built on prestige and ambition – appear to crumble so horribly? Severus never in his life thought this could ever be possible. In the history of Salazar Slytherin himself, this was almost considered blasphemous to the House and the values it stood for. A House, once horrendously powered and manipulated by Lord Voldemort himself, is now lost to their own thoughts in their desperate bid to reinvent their fractured identity. The idea of it was almost cruel, and as a Slytherin himself, he could almost feel their silent despair and aching to be better than what their previous reputation had built for them.

The thought of it all hit a little too close to his own experiences.

An anger began to simmer within him, when his mind flashed to how on earth Horace ever allowed this to happen. He was meant to guide them forth, and aid in their recovery. He was meant to be their mentor, their guide, their guardian. Instead, he turned away from his own House, neglecting their troubles, and failing to take responsibility.

Severus would have never allowed this to happen.

He reached to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling his headache burning deeper than before. The thought of returning to a place that had caused him so much anguish, was almost sickening. Succumbing to that again invoked a fear he did not want to endure, "And you're implying that I can? Don't be daft!"

"Yes, " Minerva responded, confidently, "Because you have been one of those Slytherins who have faced nothing but harsh judgement for years and yet still fought against it. You deceived Voldemort. You fought with us, and they need guidance from someone who personally understands the difficulties they face. House prejudice has always been the foulest side of Hogwarts, do not deny it."

Severus hesitated at the request, "I cannot be the person they need, Minerva. Not in the abysmal state of mind I am in."

"Perhaps that is also why you'd be the most ideal. It may be far more imperative that they realise that you are dealing with it much the same as they are and knowing that they are not alone in this personal battle, may benefit you also."

Severus sneered, fighting back the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, "The same? I think not."

"They can relate. It's time to do right by them, Severus. The mantle they are carrying to bring themselves out from their darker history, is a heavy burden. Especially after Voldemort has forever tainted their House. They cannot do this alone, " Minerva cleared her throat gently, "They will not hear it from me as both their Headmistress and a Gryffindor. And I've tried consistently with no avail. I do not know what else to do."

Severus faltered, feeling his stomach do yet another backflip. He felt ill, "I will not even begin to know how to lend my assistance. You forgot I abandoned them, too? Not all will be receptive."

"After the devastating passing of Miss Bulstrode recently, it created quite the disturbance within the dungeons. The circumstance of her death is tragic and so many people are still suffering. The ripple effect continues to devastate, but your presence alone will be a source of reassurance for them. Start there. Come back to us, Severus. You have far more importance at Hogwarts than you have led yourself to believe."

"Why do I get the sense you'd want be back as Head of Slytherin?"

"From my perspective, it would be ideal. That is, if you agree to it. You'd be best suited as their Head and with that, are able to lead by example. Horace simply does not have the same influence as you do, and he knows it. I can reduce your hours, if so wish. If you'd like to teach the NEWT years, with enough latitude for Head duties and extra time off. I can provide you with a little more flexibility than you had before, a better office perhaps - "

" - Minerva – "

" – Please, Severus, " Minerva reached out to place her hand on Severus' wrist which had been nervously tapping throughout the exchange, "Will it not be better than what you have now? This? We're your family too."

"It never felt much like family, " Severus said, quietly, feeling his own cold hand twitch under hers.

"You carried it all alone for so long. We know now and we will support you through this. I know I will."

Severus crinkled his brows in worry, feeling disheartened by his own dilemma. His emotions were churning inside of him and could not even begin to process it all. It was a hell of a request and now Minerva seemed very desperate to fill that position. He knew she had been asking him to return for quite a number of years and he immediately denied every single one because he couldn't even bear to think about it.

Hearing of Bulstrode recently, had struck quite the sensitive cord within himself. He didn't expect the news to have hit him as deeply as he did. She was one of his students – albeit not a very bright one. Arrogant and boneheaded, but like all the other Slytherins she had ambitions and desires, and as a rare Slytherin, one which did not align with Lord Voldemort. She had tried her very best to escape those shadowed clutches, and that she did for a while. However, it seemed to have taken a bit of a toll on her over time and she eventually took her own life. She couldn't find acceptance anywhere, except that of her Slytherins and although she did not accept the path of the Death Eater, she was still shunned upon by others simply for being a Slytherin.

Severus knew that feeling so very well, and her fate had hurt him unexpectedly deeply. No child deserves to be so ostracised and outcasted to the point of seeing no other alternative. He couldn't help but reminisce that it could have been his own fate all those years ago. He had been a student before, and he never once approached anyone for fear of not being taken seriously. She was one of his students and yet he didn't even try and reach out to her despite that being his duty. And yet again, he failed in that regard. He spent so many years making himself unapproachable that some students felt like they couldn't even turn to him for help. Their own Head of House. Not that Severus knew how to console a struggling teenager, but the thought of missing the opportunity to actually save someone from such a gripping familiar darkness, deeply bothered him. She was not exactly a pleasant girl, but everyone's struggles deserved to be validated and seen no matter what type of person they were.

They all deserved to be helped and given a fighting chance.

All it takes is a genuine listening ear and a patient soul to help turn a life around and at least encourage them to hold on. Lily could not do that by the time they broke of their friendship officially, and yet Harry himself was able to do that when it mattered. He had only wished Lily knew deep down the struggles he truly faced and was not as simple as she had mistakenly led herself to believe. And yet she wouldn't dare to listen, not even to someone she grew up with as an introduction to the magical world.

And now with the Slytherins – He didn't even know if he was even capable to help in that way. He was definitely no therapist, nor did he have a single compassionate, kind bone in his wary body. But knowing that they were still in such a deep despair, they needed someone to help pull them back to the surface again. Admittingly, Severus may very well be the only faculty capable of such a task. Returning to Hogwarts, as painful as the thought was, might be his saving grace after all. This was still such a delicate time for them – for him – and those children needed to come together in unity from years of harsh prejudice and division. Shedding all bloodist ideologies deemed like a daunting task, which had been ingrained within that House for decades. Minerva was bitterly truthful – They needed guidance. Real guidance from someone who could relate to their problems and insecurities.

Minerva could see the worried expression upon Severus' face, as she lightly squeezed her grasp on his wrist in reassurance, "It'll be alright – you'll see. A little leap of faith is not such a terrible thing."

Severus struggled to get any word out, as his own mind was suddenly clouded with so much doubt and confusion, "…I just require…time. To gather my thoughts. And an answer."

…And whatever shred of sanity I can salvage.

"Please, take as much time as you need."

Severus curled his lip and cast his gaze away distastefully.

He just wasn't entirely sure if he was prepared to step out of his comfort zone, even for a short while.

Severus was, undeniably, scared out of his mind.