Thank you Zeugma412 and BlueWater5!

A5mia: Severus wanted to make it up to them and figured out how. He knows deep down, he doesn't want history repeating itself and his journey not to allow the past to affect him in the present so much again, is an ongoing one. Dawn's story will unravel as the chapters go on.

PearlM21: Severus surprises himself sometimes. He's so self-deprecating, that he feels he in incapable of feeling anything other than bitterness, guilt, and misery.

Authors Notes: Big chapter here, folks! Enjoy the next Act of this story.

"There are so many ways to be brave in this world. Sometimes bravery involves laying down your life for something bigger than yourself, or for someone else. Sometimes it involves giving up everything you have ever known, or everyone you have ever loved, for the sake of something greater.

But sometimes it doesn't.

Sometimes it is nothing more than gritting your teeth through pain, and the work of every day, the slow walk toward a better life.

That is the sort of bravery I must have now."

― Veronica Roth

CHAPTER 22: The Way Back

September 1st, 2002

[Severus Snape]

Severus wanted to vomit.

Granted, he was trudging through the last few mornings with barely a wink of sleep and even trying a generous dose of caffeine for the first time in a while, did him no favors. He hated that brown sludge as much as he hated mornings.

He finally made the effort to shave, feeling slightly repulsed about the patchy scruff of facial hair he developed that year due to his unkempt carelessness. He had almost begun to feel comfortable with that haggard appearance, but now becoming a little more prominent in Harry's life again and the prospect of a different future he wanted to make some sort of effort. Harry himself had made the effort to attempt to shake Severus from the misery he created for himself, so the least he could do was try to manage his appearance to at least erase the obvious difficulties the man had been facing in recent years.

Not that he ever really did care about what he looked like, clearly. But this wasn't just a matter of returning to Hogwarts as if nothing had happened. It was returning after so much has happened. Riddle was dead. Hogwarts was repaired. The dead were since been laid to rest, including that of Lily's memory. Everyone was still grieving in their own way still, however, most of everyone had since continued on with their lives.

All except for Severus Snape – The greatest pseudo-traitor and the reluctant dark knight fighting on behalf of the Order of the Phoenix. Their Trojan horse.

Now he was returning to Hogwarts with his truth come to light – that was frightening in its own way. Everyone knew his role in the war now and his motives. He just wanted to hide away again from the shame of it all. Because he was still ashamed that he had to pretend to be a murderous Death Eater brute loyal to Voldemort, when he was in fact, far from it.

But what good would hiding away continue to do? Absolutely nothing. He had to pull himself together and finally face it all. Face them. The students he taught, the colleagues he had worked with for years…He had to face the truth that he wasn't the enemy people thought he was, despite some of those acts with surely seemed convincing enough. But that was the point. He had to do things he was ashamed of and never wanted to do, but he did them anyway despite the odds stacked heavily against him. All for the bloody greater good.

He was no coward.

And in the end, it left him feeling the worst of himself. Far more than Harry did. Harry didn't go through his troubles alone…Severus did. Ultimately, anyway.

He wasn't sure if he could do this, but he had to try. He was granted his second chance at life and the thought of wasting even that one made him feel much more wretched and appalled with himself. He knew he wasn't the same man who was cast away from Hogwarts during his cursed time as Headmaster. To be fair, no one was. But he changed in more ways than he ever thought possible. Reconciling with Harry Potter was the biggest change of all, even going as far as to see him like a son, putting aside all past animosity and cultivating their newfound respect and connection as best they could.

But how on earth was he going to manage to be a professor again? He was worried he'd step back into his old ways, but this was his chance and opportunity to prove himself wrong. To prove everyone wrong. To prove blasted Skeeter wrong. He was no saint, but he was no scoundrel either. The blackened image she had recreated him to be in her published work soured his reputation far more than it already was.

People can change when presented with the right opportunity, and this time, he finally had one that wasn't rooted in his role as a Death Eater and Albus' expendable minion. He had a chance to do better, and he didn't want to waste that again. He just had to try this time. He had to make something of his life that was worthwhile.

And this time, despite his own inner pain this was his choice. And he will bear that burden.

Severus had arrived at Hogwarts very early that morning preparing his old office and quarters once again. Horace gladly shuffled out of the office, taking a new one away from the dungeons. It was strange being back in there. Almost everything had been kept the same, aside from Horace's wall of famed students over the years.

He's still doing this nonsense?! Has he not learned his lesson? Pitiful.

This thought alone made him angry, but once he re-claimed his old familiar, cold office once more, he immediately sealed it off with enchantments to keep people at bay only alarming for students if they needed him. If he was going to be surrounded by people and rule-breaking adolescence again, he'd be sure as all hell to retain some ounce of personal space and solitude.

He made the effort to transfer most of his potion supply to his own personal lab within his office so that he could at least continue to work on his project now with more free time on his hands. His memory potion was still very far away from completion, and it warranted much tedious time and effort. Now that he managed to split the curriculum between the other Potions professor, he was still in slight awe that he now had time to spare between classes – something he only wished he had last time. Teaching only six and seventh years was a strange blessing and if only Albus had made the effort to think of this beforehand, he would be less inclined to want to snap at the younger students at every given class. At least the NEWT years had a little more common sense on how not to blow up and melt your cauldron.

Since arriving to Hogwarts, he had been avoiding almost everyone except for Minerva and Harry. All other colleagues made attempts to greet and welcome him, but he quickly brushed them away. Filius' protests in wanting to desperately speak to him were already driving him mad and he was determined to avoid Sybill at all costs – there was no way in hell he was planning to hear another prophecy, so that Seer be damned.

Even Peeves' mantra of 'The dungeon bat is back!' made Severus want to grind his teeth together. Although at least the Bloody Baron was courteous and respectful enough upon his return.

Eventually, as the day progressed, Severus found himself sitting back at the staff table within the Great Hall, watching as students slowly began to fill up the seats. A strange ill-inducing familiarity bubbled within him. The enchanted ceiling amongst the levitating candles reflected the gentle clouds drifting peacefully above them, reflecting the autumn night sky. He sat in between Minerva and Harry, tensing his hand as it rested upon his thigh underneath the table. He watched closely as each student took their seat; whilst many did not seem to immediately notice his presence, there were several who eventually did. Soon enough there were whispers scattered throughout the hall and now it became apparent to them of his surprising return after four long years.

"Hogwarts' biggest defenders have returned once again! What a marvelous occasion!" Sir Nicholas bellowed from the Gryffindor table, as he floated aimlessly over their heads.

Put a cork in it, Nicholas.

Severus' once displeased expression appeared to glaze over; his mind was now fixed and fortified forcing his appearance to become blank. His eyes turned to ice. Whatever light and warmth were once behind it however small, had dimmed and faded. He allowed his mind to empty, and defensively, he needed an ounce of reprieve using Occlumency as his protection. Something he hadn't utilized for so long; he never needed to, until now. His Occlumency walls erected within his mind again, protecting him from the memories that once caused him pain. He filed them away in its dark crevices, locking them with the most precious of keys. He despised having to do this, but it was the only way. All visual evidence of his worries soon melted away and was replaced by his old, hardened exterior. He intended to make himself unapproachable in the hopes that he could avoid the onslaught of curious questions in regard to his life. He had to push away all self-doubt and struggles, just so that he could get the job done just as he did during the war. It was a familiar habit he was able to gladly maintain again. His deepened expression was far stronger than the tidal waves of raw emotion forcefully contained within. And for the life of him, he could not allow them to spill. Not even for a mere moment.

His own pain was masked by the new visage he was required to wear. He was the same, but...different.

A new layer.

A complicated duality to his soul, brought him back a different man. But there were just some things he needed to do and protecting his vulnerability was the most important one at that desperate moment.

Now it was time for the sorting and as the new tune of the Sorting Hat sang away in the back of his mind, he heard Harry's voice of disapproval from beside him.

Severus snorted mildly under his breath so only Harry could hear, "Get used to it. No longer will you be allowed to display your seething exasperation for it rather openly."

"Wonderful."

Once the Sorting Hat sang its usual nonsense and sorted the nervous first-year students, Minerva rose to the podium and raised her arms to cease the constant chattering within the hall, "May I have your utmost attention, please, " The room eventually quietened down, "Firstly, I'd like to welcome the first years upon their sorting – Your designated Prefects will assist you accordingly as we conclude the feast. Secondly, we have several staff changes and additions, as you may have already noticed."

The room fell painfully silent, and Severus inwardly held his breath. It was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop on the other end of the hall. Oh, he hated this and wanted it to be done and over with so he could collapse back into his old quarters.

Minerva held onto the sides of the golden owl podium steadily as she continued, "With our staff, I would like to welcome Professor Potter and Professor Longbottom as your trainees for Defence Against the Dark Art and Herbology. Both Professor Sprout and Professor Rheingold will be their respective preceptors. With our expanding and revised curriculum with Defence and Potions, you will find multiple alterations to your class schedules and modules. Additionally, Professor Slughorn will be teaching years one to five, and that leaves me to welcome the return of our previous Potions senior, Professor Snape. He will be in charge of teaching the NEWT levels and has agreed to resume his post as Head of Slytherin – "

That was all Severus could really register, as he allowed Minerva's voice to drown out in the back of his mind.

It was an odd mixture of energy in the room. Although most of the hall ended up in somewhat of a delayed applause, he couldn't help but noticed a few apprehensive gazes and hesitant claps. From the Slytherin table directly in front of him, he didn't know what to expect. Some of the Slytherins were happy upon his return, but most of them looked worried and perhaps even a little fearful. A few Slytherins even looked down at their empty plate, as if to distract them and avert their uncertain, confused gazes.

And it was then Severus realised he had much work to do.

As predicted, Severus ate nothing that night. A small bite of roast potato was enough to make him ill, sitting idly and hoping to end the feast as early as possible. He could feel the stares upon his direction from both the student and staff tables, even catching the eye of several of them before they quickly peeled their line of sight away. Once the feast was finally over, Severus stormed out as soon as possible, ignoring a few attempted conversations by the new Transfiguration teacher, and yet again, Filius. Some of the students even stopped cold as he swept past them rather swiftly.

Determined to complete his tasks for the evening, he made a direct beeline for the Slytherin common room as Head of House to announce the rules he wanted to enforce and get a few things in order before the start of classes. If he was going to figure out why the students were declining under Horace's tutorage directly, he was determined to do that in his own way. He was not one to take things likely, and he needed to remain direct with them.

Once the Prefects had assisted to file the Slytherin students within the common room, Severus stood in silence, waiting for them all to arrive. He recognised many of those students who had since progressed in years as when he last saw them. Immediately, he hardened his gaze and thinned his lips. He raised his chin, observing each and every one of the students who will be managed under his wing, and he needed to figure out the source of their troubles as discretely as possible.

Eventually, Severus swept to the front of the group, standing tall before the students, "Listen carefully, and listen well. There will be no unnecessary questioning upon my reasons for absence, nor anything to do with the War. You are to remain appropriate during my classes and in my presence. Any academic-related questions can be directed at me. Any other personal concerns and I will implore you to seek assistance with myself as your Head of House, the Hospital Wing Healers, or the elected counselor for you to utilise. I do not want to see any lapse in school effort or decline in your grades. Am I making myself blatantly clear?"

There were a few mumbles of 'Yes, Professor', accompanied by several agreeable nods. But for the most part already Severus could see a few of the more terrified students shuffled towards the back, with whom refused to meet his line of sight. A few of the students were fidgeting nervously with the hem of their robes and some students simply looked confused and distant.

Severus' sharp eyes swept over his students once more, "I will not tolerate disobedience or erratic public behavior. And I most certainly will not coddle you – recognise your problems and approach me accordingly. I will ensure it will remain anonymous with me if you so desire it. I will not repeat myself in this regard."

The room was met with several more silent nods. He knew full well neither of his students would be willing to confide in him – especially not this early into his return. He completely expected this of course, because why should his job be made easy? Minerva wouldn't have pleaded for his return if she knew she was capable of handling this herself. Severus was still bitter in regard to Horace's carelessness and lack of active assistance with his students, but now he was going to approach things differently.

Once he made his opening statement as Head of Slytherin, he quickly departed their Common Room and rounded the cold and dark corridor back to his own quarters to retreat for the night.

His head hurt once he relaxed his mind and collapsed on the sofa adjacent to the roaring fireplace. Atop of the mantel, were the photos of his mother in her youth and the photo of his conversation with Harry during his wedding. For once in his life, he couldn't bear to leave such memories behind. He needed something to help him through this and a reminder as to why.

He had a lot of work cut out for him and had no idea where to begin.

And he only hoped his presence didn't make things worse.

September 6th, 2002

[Harry Potter]

For the week following, Severus remained distant at the feasts in the Great Hall and Harry had since noticed he barely ate much on either of those occasions.

Harry tried to make the habit of bringing food to him in his office, but sometimes the man appeared to dismiss him, often sending him away. Harry knew not to take this too personally, as he understood this was Severus' usual way of dealing with stress by generally just getting out of his way. His need to seal himself away was necessary for his sanity, but despite this, Harry would always show some measure of concern, so he respectfully gave him the space he needed as the last thing he desired was another argument blown out of proportion. He knew this was going to take the man some time to get used to again, but he often found himself wondering if they made the right decision to ask for his return.

He knew this was a new burden on his shoulders, but time and time again he and Minerva had this discussion and concluded that it will be the best thing for him until he can find his feet again. For now, things would be understandably rough, and they all simply needed to have patience until Severus could step back into his Slytherin glory once again.

In the days following Severus' return, the Daily Prophet wasted no time in making his return known. Of course, Harry's made the front page of 'The Chosen One Returns to Hogwarts'. But Severus' wasn't quite so forgiving.

'Ex-Voldemort's Adviser Returns to Hogwarts.'

'Severus Snape - Can he truly be trusted?'

'Are his death eater days truly over?'

As if Rita Skeeter didn't throw enough dirt on his name over time, she had to make matters worse. Harry was furious, as was Minerva. The Headmistress wasted no time in sending an angry complaint via owl to the newspaper, but of course, nothing else was done about it.

Maybe I should get Hermione to keep her trapped in a glass jar again. It's the only thing that would shut her up.

Harry's own start to the week was indeed interesting. It was still an odd thing to be the one standing at the front of the class, rather than behind the desks. Although he had a few reminders of his time teaching the DA, this was still all very new and unfamiliar to him, and not quite the same. Some of the first-year students were absolutely thrilled to have Harry as their teacher, but Dawn was quick to enforce professionalism and insisted to Harry that he was now a teacher and needed to perform as one. The line between student and professor was not as thin as Harry would have liked. At first, he thought of Remus and how comfortable he was within his class, and he wanted nothing more than to try to emulate that. But Harry felt more comfortable simply being himself and he knew he needed to impress Dawn and enforce his dedication to this new career path.

"Harry – focus, " Dawn pushed through his amused train of thought, as she demonstrated to the first years the difference between hexes, jinxes, and curses.

It was a lot of work even to try and memorise the weekly academic schedules, but he couldn't afford to be lazy with this now. In the last few months, he did his best to familiarise himself with the curriculum, but it was indeed a lot to remember. Amusingly, all he could hear was Hermione trying to drum all of this information back into his brain and suddenly he felt like he himself, was back in his very first year trying to learn the new world of magic.

During the first class, Harry stood close to the blackboard on the far side, allowing Dawn to take control of the class as she lectured the class so effortlessly. Harry chimed in where he could, determined to make his input count whenever Dawn encouraged him to answer. She was testing him – that he knew. And the thought of that made him nervous as if he was taking his NEWTS again with the School Board. Although she wanted him to learn fast, it did at times, throw him off guard. She was thorough but professional in her approach. Harry knew he needed to put in the effort if he was to make a good impression and given the prospect of the Boy Who Lived taking up the Defence Against the Dark Arts mantle, he had a high standard to set.

No pressure.

"In time, your confidence will build. Understandably, of course. Wrangling first years is not an easy feat, " Dawn explained sternly, as the last of the students filed out of the class at the end of the lesson, "You will be expected to know the answers to their questions, no matter how silly it may seem. They must be addressed maturely, professionally, and to the point."

Harry drew in a shaky breath, as he assisted Dawn in preparing the classroom for the next class, "And here I thought I was prepared."

"All theory, and no practical, is not the best way to learn. As I'm sure your own experience entailed. This is new territory for you, " Dawn responded firmly, "Transitioning from student to teacher is not an easy one. Remember, you are their mentor, not their friend. Now, go and take a break and I will see you back here shortly."

Mumbling a 'thank you', Harry exited the classroom feeling somewhat inadequate. But during their break between periods, Harry ran into Neville who was carrying a few small pot plants of a strange, wriggling version of a purple cactus.

"Neville!" Harry greeted, with relief, "How have you been?"

"Oh, hey Harry! I've been helping Professor Sprout - err, Pomona - tend to the Mandrakes in preparation for the second years in a few weeks. She's letting me teach that class by myself."

"Already? Not bad, Neville, " Harry was surprised Neville was the first of them to teach an entire class already, but he was definitely happy for him. He was well-versed in herbology more than Harry was in Defence. It was still quite a strange thought to know that they were no longer here as students and were now tasked to educate the younger ones. Never in all of Harry's years, did he ever imagine himself to be in this position. The days of aspiring to be an Auror had long since diminished.

"What's Professor Rheingold, like?"

Harry paused for a moment, in his bid to word things carefully, "She's, ugh…Interesting. A bit intimidating, but she's actually quite...helpful, in her own way. She kind of makes me nervous, though."

Neville grinned, almost amusingly, "Well, she's an Auror and knows her stuff."

"I'm definitely learning a lot from her already, but I'm far from teaching my own class, " Harry's face flashed to a smirk, "She told Severus off yesterday for leaving an empty potion vial in the staff room accidentally."

Neville's eyes widened, "…You're joking?"

Harry shook his head, "No. I've never seen Severus become so speechless before."

"Looks like he's finally met his match."

"I mean, he spent the afternoon rather furious about it, but he's still dealing with this all again. He's just been extra snappy."

"Nah, he'll be alright. He hasn't told me off for anything yet, so I'm taking that as a win, " Neville struggled to hold the pot plants in his arms, when one of the cactuses leaned towards him with sharp yellow needles targeting him like darts, "Gotta run, Harry – these things are not liking being moved. See you at dinner tonight!"

When dinnertime eventually rolled around, Severus was agonisingly silent yet again. Harry tried to crack a few of his lame jokes to break the ice, but this time, the man was hardly interested in interacting with him. He took note of – yet again – the lack of food intake and noticed the man eyeing the pitcher of wine across from him several times. When the feast was near to the end, Severus stood up and silently departed the still-full hall leaving Harry and Minerva exchanging a few concerned glances.

Watching the man leave beyond the hall doors, Harry leaned in to whisper to the Headmistress, "…I'll go see him after the feast."

The Headmistress nodded concerningly, "Please do."

Once the feast drew nearer to the end and many of the students began to clear out, Harry excused himself from the staff table and made a short stop to the kitchen to salvage a few sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin soup. With his sneaky haul and a few disgruntled looks from a few of the older house elves, he wandered further into the dungeons and tapped his wand at the doorknob to Severus' office, and waited for a response.

To his relief after a short delay, the doorknob glowed and with a creek, the door slowly swung open. Severus was seated at his desk, eyes trained downwards scribbling away at a few pieces of parchment. Several open books were littered across his desk, and a large candle was lit at the corner, casting a soft light over the hunched-over man. Harry placed the food items on the table and took the seat across from him.

"Sir, eat something, " Harry urged, "I'm getting tired of seeing you pick at your plate twice a day. Three, since you rarely make it to each one. You barely eat anything."

Severus eyed the food distastefully, looking slightly paler than usual, "I've no appetite."

"I had Kreacher make some fresh sandwiches because I know you like the beef and gherkin ones."

"Harry..."

"I'm sorry, " Harry said quickly.

"For?"

Harry's shoulders slumped, "…For dragging you back here."

"Re-adjustment is not easy, certainly not for me. However - " Severus paused, slowly placing his quill back in its holder, looking slightly sour. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the man had a lingering headache, "I suppose the only way to overcome my fear is to finally face it. After everything, I still owe a duty of care to my Slytherins and attempt to undo some of the damage Riddle caused. And some that I caused."

Harry hung his head feeling a sharp twinge of guilt, "I know coming back has been difficult for you. It will get better, I know it. Everything is different now, but I'm glad you're here."

"Time will tell, won't it? As with everything we are used to enduring, " Severus spoke slowly, and methodically, "Regardless, this was still my choice to return. I alone bear the burden of that choice, whatever the results of which will eventuate from it."

Harry watched closely as Severus' face tensed, his eyebrow creases ever so prominent, with the corners of his lips unmoving, and fixed. But gradually the man relaxed within Harry's company, leaving his eyes trained upon Harry's green ones. After a short pause, Severus picked up a sandwich half and took a small bite, causing Harry to smile in relief. Harry felt nostalgic, reminding himself of bringing the man sandwiches during his discovery of him in the Shrieking Shack after Voldemort's demise. Severus raised an eyebrow, "…And here I thought I'd finally get rid of you."

Harry's cautious smile widened to a grin, "Rotten luck, sir. I'll try not to be a nuisance for you this time."

"You're a professor now. You have no choice but to abide by the rules in a professional and appropriate manner. Ironically, it's the only thing that could cause you to adhere to them…Finally, " Severus smirked a little too wickedly under the shadows cast by the hair over his eyes.

"Very funny, sir. I'm glad the idea is so amusing for you. Incentive enough to watch me suffer with being a bumbling idiot?"

"Absolutely."

There was a comfortable pause between the two, leaving Harry's gaze to trail over all the familiar parts of the man's office. It seemed like so long ago and yet as if no time has passed at all. Harry drew in a careful breath, speaking softly as if to avoid eavesdropping ghosts. "It's hard to believe it all happened, isn't it? Everything that went down here...it's all history now."

Severus released a shuddered breath when he eventually nodded, "Indeed."

"We'll make it through."

The man appeared to flash a small, subtle smile of his own, yet soon clearing away the emotions running a little too rampantly within himself. He closed his eyes briefly and appeared twenty years older the moment they reopened, "You were right, Harry. I cannot waste the extra time I was given. As you previously reiterated, we must do better. If we cannot, we can at least attempt to. Neither one of us desires a repeat of history, that of which I'm sure we can both agree on. What's done is long since out of our control and we must face it, no matter how painful it is."

"This is new for the both of us, " Harry reminded with a small nod.

The man clicked his tongue and appeared wary. Each word was spoken slowly, and meticulously, "I suppose it's better than sitting alone at home wallowing in regret with self-pity and dwelling on things I can never erase. My own thoughts are not always so comforting."

"Knowing you realise it now, is a step forward."

Severus eyed Harry vigilantly, slowly placing down the sandwich square he was holding, "Amidst your appalling memory issues. Do not think I am not aware."

"They are not that bad, " Harry felt a little taken aback by the retort. He knew his memories were lacking, but he didn't think it was such a big deal.

"I beg to differ, " Severus responded sharply, "I withhold concern of your memory lapses and I have already previously expressed my interest to you over this. Is there something you wish to disclose to me?"

Harry shook his head, wondering what the hell the man meant, "Nothing at all, why?"

Severus' eyes bore into his own, but his voice was soft as he responded with great care, "You tell me."

"I'm not hiding anything if that's what you mean, " Harry said quickly, but he had the odd feeling Severus wanted to desperately find out himself.

"Hmm, " Severus continued to stare at Harry, and he eventually found it rather uncomfortable.

Breaking the man's almost unnerving observation, Harry rose from his seat and motioned to the remainder of the food, ignoring Severus' quite obvious concerns. He did not feel ready for that type of conversation, "I'll leave you to finish the rest of your dinner. Please, make sure you eat. Don't make me order Kreacher to pile sandwiches on your desk every night."

Severus glared venomously, "Do it, and I'll send the Bloody Baron to haunt you for the rest of your days."

Harry smirked, "Goodnight, sir."

Harry departed the office, just in time to hear a small chuckle as he did so.

We'll be okay, Severus…I promise.

September 8th, 2002

[Severus Snape]

"Cuthbert is still present?"

Severus paced the headmaster's office on Sunday signaling the end of his first returning week. He had spent the previous day almost seething within his office, mulling over his recent return, and refusing to see anyone except for Harry. Sinistra even hastily knocked on his office door in an attempt for small talk one evening, but he ruthlessly sent her away. He was in no mood for senseless conversation from colleagues he rarely interacts with or even ones he desires to. He was still yet to approach Horace in regard to his dangerous thoughts on the subject of his Slytherins, but he needed a certain amount of sanity to approach that manner in somewhat of a level head.

But here he was, spending his Sunday afternoon approaching Minerva with a simmering frustration that gnawed at every part of him. It was almost like returning when Albus was still Headmaster. Some things simply do not change.

Minerva watched as Severus paced the room, as she remained standing beside Fawkes' old podium, "He's a ghost, Severus. Not even Peeves can drive him away."

"Well, something needs to be done. He's useless, " Severus looked irked, "What of Sinistra? You cannot expect students to still attend midnight classes, amongst their weekly class commitments. Her expectations are unrealistic, and I am more than irritated by insomniac students in my morning classes."

Minerva's once stern gaze softened in slight amusement, "I re-hired you for Potions and Head of Slytherin, not to overhaul the way I run my school."

"If the way the school is running was already adequate, I wouldn't feel the need to further my input, " Severus stopped in his tracks and swiveled on his heel to face her, "With all due respect, Minerva, I see that there are issues that must still be addressed. Issues that I was unable to tend to during my time as Headmaster. Staffing is of main concern. It always has been problematic, however with the expansion of the curriculum, the staff are running themselves to the ground."

"Hence why I desired to hire you years ago. Horace, as skilled as he is, cannot manage the new modules on his own. He wanted to retire, and it took much convincing to have him remain on reduced hours, so that we were not down a Potions professor, " The Headmistress explained.

"And Potions cannot be filled by a mere amateur, " Severus' lip curled distastefully, knowing full well the conundrum Minerva faced and why she was so persistent in his return. He was more than irritated upon seeing these issues remain unresolved, "And what of Defence? Dawn may very well have Harry teach a few classes already, because of the lack of staff. Defeating Riddle does not render him experienced; I'll have you aware."

The woman wandered to her desk and removed her spectacles placing them down on the table before her, "Defence was the most difficult position to fill. Many were wary of the past, erm…history of its professors. Understandably so, neither was confident enough to apply. I simply got lucky with Dawn who has Auror experience and volunteered almost immediately when she knew we were dire."

Severus gritted his teeth, resuming his pacing again, "And of Gregory? Is he even capable of teaching Muggle Studies?"

"He's a Muggleborn who has been with us since the year following the downfall of Voldemort. He is more than capable, " Minerva paused, but Severus was too busy pacing the room to notice her interested gaze.

Severus soon stopped in his tracks again, to face the woman, "And the Transfiguration teacher? Varick, as I recall?"

Minerva raised her chin, almost somewhat amused by his verbal lashings upon the current state of the school, "Fine, Severus. He is well-skilled and can handle the class well. His father taught Transfiguration in Uagadou for almost three decades…" The woman's voice trailed off, watching Severus closely. The corners of her mouth twitched into a small smile, "A fresh pair of eyes has been long awaited. I've truly missed your input, Severus."

"If I am going to be here for an unforeseen measure of time, then I will ensure to make the duration count, " Severus gave a deep sigh, soon pinching the bridge of his nose, "Wasting your time is not my intention, thus, I prefer to make myself somewhat useful. I've caused enough damage, so allow me to attempt to fix some of it."

"Repairing the school has been a difficult task over the years but doing so with one of my dearest friends brings me much relief, " Minerva smiled warmly, causing Severus to hesitate at the gesture, "Your place with us holds far more importance than you have led yourself to believe."

Severus finally stopped pacing and clutched the back of the guest chair tightly. He lowered his head after a long exhale, struggling to meet the woman's gaze, "…Returning here was not what I ever intended."

"I am aware, Severus, " Minerva responded carefully, folding her hands neatly in front of her as she sat down behind her desk, "Hogwarts would have always re-opened its doors for you, without question. Your choice to return home will not lead you astray, I assure you."

Severus finally looked up at the woman, as if he was searching for an answer that was not there, "I suppose I never anticipated to ever have the choice."

"Albus limited such choices for you, " Minerva's face grew serious, "But unlike Albus, I want to ensure your needs are met. If you need some additional time off, I am more than happy to grant it to you. If you require a tutor for your classes, I can look into acquiring one for you – "

" - It's all or nothing with me, Minerva. You know me well enough to recognise that I am more than capable to handle such adjustments on my own, " Severus took a moment to pause, "I will deal with it. Even if it takes me a little longer to do so."

"Of course. I express to you on grounds that I am not Albus and thus will take great care to ensure your requirements are considered. That I can promise you."

Severus nodded, feeling grateful for her understanding. It was a strange thing to consider, as no one else had ever given him the same courtesy. No understanding of his well-being or consideration for the tasks he had to perform against his will, or whatever will be left. Regardless, at least Minerva was considerate enough to care about what he felt and possibly wanted.

Even beyond what he'd know of, himself.

"I appreciate that, Minerva."

He truly did.

Severus departed from the Headmaster's that afternoon, ignoring yet another protest from portrait Albus as he hastily left through the oak doors. He didn't want to hear anything further condescending from Albus. If he was going to deal with it, it would be without the old coots input. This time, he was going to do things his own way, and with his own choices and opinions. Never again would he allow himself to be thrown back into peril at the risk of his own sanity and reputation. He spent so many years repairing such a reputation, that he did not want it to crumble any more than it did when Rita Skeeter chose to further besmirch his name.

If he was to remain at Hogwarts, it would be on casual terms. He was here for a reason; an important goal to reach. He was required to help Slytherin return to its original glory and save the students from a fate he could avoid, and he was steadfast to ensure that were to happen under his watch. Properly, this time and for as long as he was there.

Still turbulent from his discussion with Minerva earlier that day, Severus made his way to the potions classrooms which were silent without all of the students present on that Sunday afternoon. However, one room was heard bubbling curiously and he rounded the corridor to discover Horace Slughorn was busy occupying one of the potions workbenches. A strong scent of smoked cedarwood tickled his nostrils. He considered just continuing by and ignoring the man who once taught him. But something within his mind did not sit right with him and he was determined to seek out some of the answers to his burning questions. So, he decided to seize the opportunity whilst he had it.

Upon hearing Severus' footsteps, Horace turned around from his current task with his face lit up almost in relief, "Ah, Severus."

"Horace."

The older man refocused his gaze on the potion in front of him, "You've been avoiding me this week, it seems."

Severus stopped beside the workbench, carefully eyeing the familiar array of ingredients littering the bench, "You're not the only one."

Horace's nose wriggled and his mustache seemed to move almost amusingly with it, "You're displeased with me, I am aware. Whatever you've been prior informed of, should be discussed with me, and myself alone."

Severus tapped his fingers upon the workbench observing Horace's almost jittery behaviour. There was a tense pause between them, leaving him to ensure he chose his wording correctly. "Our current Slytherins are a poor representation of our house. Why did you neglect them after the war? In a time when they needed guidance the most, you abandoned them."

"I most certainly did not!" Horace, almost forcefully, placed an empty vial back down on the desk. Some of its glittering amber contents splashed over the top.

Severus gritted his teeth, seething his words amidst his bubbling anger, "Yes, because you were so concerned of their welfare, you picked and chose Slytherins to represent your ridiculous wall of fame. What be of the others? Seeing that demeans their efforts. Makes them feel worthless. Inadequate. I've never, in all my years, seen them so defeated. So distant. I could deduct points off them and they wouldn't care."

"Severus – " Horace stopped what he was doing and faced him hopelessly, " – You don't understand. I tried."

"Tried? How so? Telling them you'd be there for them, and then turn your back?" Severus scoffed, feeling anger bubble within, "You didn't want to deal with it, didn't you? You didn't want the responsibility!"

Horace frowned, almost scoldingly, "And what of you, Severus? You did the same thing you are currently accusing me of!"

"I had a part to play! I had to pretend to encourage those Slytherins in the ways of the Dark Arts that would most please Riddle, despite seeing their emotional decline under my tutorage. I couldn't truly assist them in the position I was in. And it was students such as Bulstrode who eventually perished due to the regime under my command…Her death could have very well been my fault. But you had the chance, Horace. After Riddle's demise, you had a chance to help them. But you chose not to."

Horace stuttered through his words, seemingly unable to get the right ones out. "I couldn't…I didn't know how…What could I have possibly done?"

"Figure it out, Horace, " Severus snapped, "Those students were in peril…suffering. And you did nothing after I departed."

"Tom Riddle, Severus."

Severus paused, confused, eyeing the older wizard carefully, "Voldemort? What about him?"

"No, Tom. I – " Horace sighed dismally and perched himself on the edge of the stool. His arms splayed upon the table in front of him and he couldn't even bear to meet Severus' gaze. His next few words were feeble and croaked. "…I told him about them."

"Told Riddle about what?" Severus responded slowly, trying to read the man's expression.

"The Horcrux'. The pieces of his soul…I told him what they were. I told him it could have been possible to split further than one…" Horace appeared to wail. His voice trailed and Severus could see the now evident struggle on the older wizard's face. "Tom Riddle became who he did, because of my foolish mistake…You're not the only one to have made grave mistakes in this war, Severus."

But then it clicked, "You didn't want to confide in another student for fear of history repeating itself?"

There was another silent pause, and it took a while for Horace to respond. But eventually, he nodded slowly, "…Yes. I didn't want to say the wrong thing. Since that mistake, I have been uncharacteristically distant from them. I don't approve of it, but it's safer than the alternative. I do not know how to help them, nor can I even relate to their…pain. Slytherin house has made a shadowed turn, Severus. I did not help matters, either. I carry that guilt, too."

Severus turned irritably away and refocused his gaze on the slowly simmering cauldron before him. He simply couldn't fathom what he was hearing.

"What is Slytherin without ambition and determination?" Horace questioned himself.

"A bloody hopeless disaster, that's what."

Now it all started to make sense. He soon realised why Horace was so hesitant on assisting his Slytherins. Not wanting to make those same mistakes again was something Severus could understand from personal experience. But despite this new revelation that the man before him played a major part in Riddle's transition to Lord Voldemort, Severus could help but feel so angry still, at him. The Slytherins were in such a delicate state after the war and tainted by Riddles' image. Salazar Slytherin was molded into the sorcerer's mortality, turning what was once a strong, ambitious house, into a tyrannical one filled with so much darkness, and sickening blood purism. Elitism and pompous behaviour. One Severus never ever wanted to see happen again due to his own personal experiences of being coaxed into an evil mass movement without any other option for him.

Now the Slytherins lacked drive and resourcefulness. They had split apart so horrendously; they couldn't even help each other through their quite obvious difficulties. They were more reserved and solitary than ever, losing their resilience and passion for their futures. Their ambitions were quelled because of the associative history with the House that they were sorted into.

Now they likely felt they had no future after their past was so tainted by Riddles' reign and prejudiced ideology. And Severus felt that on a personal level.

They were giving up.

All of this had to stop. There must be an end put to it and he could not simply return to Hogwarts to further watch those Slytherins suffer. No, he couldn't do it. There was a reason Minerva wanted him here, and Severus finally realised how truly dire this situation was. He will not have another student perish under his watch, and he was sure as hell refusing to see a repeat of Bulstrodes' fate.

Not if he could do something about it.

September 14th, 2002

[Dawn Rheingold]

Teaching Harry Potter had been such an interesting experience.

Although it wasn't the first time, she had tutored professors-to-be, but there was something about having the Chosen One as her protégé which left her somewhat content and satisfied. A true honor. His attitude with the job was rather promising and his rapport with the students was most definitely successful.

Well, she didn't expect anything less. She could tell by the way he moved through the class and observed every student under their tutelage, which had her even admiring him. Of course, he was still very new and still so very young. But she could see by the way the students adhered to his instructions, with some still rather starstruck that one such Chosen One returned to the school. It was admirable, but the young man needed to build back his confidence to tutor the young ones.

Voldemort's slayer. The one who defeated the feared Dark Lord, now standing in as her protégé for Defence Against the Dark Arts. There was something rather poetic about it and Dawn couldn't help but smile proudly to herself.

This was the future of the wizarding world. And Harry Potter represented that. A generation who stood against Voldemort's regime, reigned victoriously, and now encouraging the next generation and preparing them for their own future. And hopefully, one a lot brighter than the previous generation had since faced at the height of the Second Wizarding War.

Upon the end of the Fourth year's class of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, Dawn rounded the corridor and walked swiftly into the staff room, almost colliding with Severus as she entered.

"Bollocks!" Dawn shouted in surprise, almost dropping the empty mug she was holding.

Severus looked livid and repositioned the scruff of his robes, before glaring back at her, "Watch your step, Auror."

The nerve.

"Good afternoon to you too, Severus, " Dawn responded calmly, taking a small measure of amusement upon the man's bitterness, "I rarely find you in here."

Severus walked over to the teapot and waved his wand, igniting the fire underneath, "It is rarely a place I dwell."

There was a tense silence between the both of them, as Dawn prepared her next round of coffee beside the man at the counter. She soon realised they had not shared a proper conversation since his return, since the man had been so determined to ignore each and every one of his colleagues since the very first day. Admittingly, something she had expected upon his return to Hogwarts.

Dawn leaned back against the counter, with her arms crossed casually over her chest, "You performed one of the hardest tasks in the Second Wizarding War and yet you still returned to resume your old teaching post as Potions Master. Why?"

Severus' lip curled, quite obviously annoyed with the interaction already, "Why do you desire to know?"

Dawn smiled coyly, eyes gleaming with intrigue, "You faced death on a daily basis, and yet you feel so compelled to come back here, of all places."

"Perhaps that is due to further unfinished business. I tend not to abandon a task until it is complete."

"My fellow novice Aurors could certainly use that mindset. Too many of them fail because they give up far too easily."

Severus scowled darkly, "I have far too much history embedded here, thus abandoning it all is deeply out of the question."

"You definitely have a hell of a reputation, " She was most certainly impressed by that.

"Hell is an understatement, " Severus sneered.

Dawn smiled, causing Severus's scowl to deepen, "Well, I admire your perseverance. If I weren't an Auror with a duty rooted to this country, I'd have fled beyond oceans."

"I am not such a coward, " Severus responded, bitterly.

Dawn shook her head, thoughtfully, "No, you are most certainly not."

"Are you done with the small talk?" Severus clicked his tongue, almost irritably, quickly filling up his mug of tea.

Dawn chuckled, refusing to allow the man's bitterness to ruin her day, "I just wanted to get something out of you."

"Satisfied?"

"Not really, no," Dawn said, simply.

"Deal with it," And with that, Severus left the staff room in such a hurry that she barely had time to respond. The man was irritable and unreasonable. He clearly did not want to stay longer than necessary and she could easily sense his evasion.

It was obvious to her that he was determined to avoid her at all costs, and she assumed it was more the fact that she was instructed to capture him after the war. Of course, the man went into hiding and evaded each one of their searches. But given the man's quite colored history with Voldemort, she couldn't help but wonder what on earth he did for the last four years. It seems he was rather elusive and rarely showed himself in public spaces, so one had to wonder if he originally intended to shut everyone else away. She could tell even but some of the other Professors' attempts to confront him turned into a pointless intentions when the man hastily brushed them all away.

One afternoon, she found Severus snapping back at poor Filius' attempt to confront him again and Severus' demeaning attitude during the first staff meeting of the school year left a bitter aftertaste amongst every other member of staff. Minerva had to silence him at one point as he was close to arguing with Gregory about something so minor.

As everyone else was doing, she kept her distance from the man. No one needed to be the object of his silent fury and Dawn knew this kind of adjustment must have been incredibly difficult for him. She chose her battles well and allowing a difficult man to cool off in his own way, was something she'd never interfere with. But at the end of the day, Severus was a part of the Hogwarts staff and thus couldn't ignore them all forever. She only hoped that both Harry and Minerva were able to talk some sense into him, and maybe, he was able to feel somewhat comfortable with supportive colleagues again.

That is if they didn't all push his murder buttons.

Dawn had been patrolling the Hogwarts grounds that night before her retreat into her quarters after the day's events. She had wandered through the clock tower courtyard by the fountain when she realised Gregory was seated beside the silently lapping water. A place where she found particular solace in, too.

"What on earth are you doing here, Greg?" She found herself squinting in the shadows and the pale light of the moon. Had she not seen the reflection of his thick-rimmed glasses, she'd never have noticed him there.

Gregory shrugged, leaning back against the vine-covered stone pillar, "Basking in the moonlight."

"Tell me you're a werewolf and it'll make my night," Dawn smirked humorously, taking a seat beside him.

Gregory gave a small chuckle, "Not a chance. You're right – this is a nice spot. It's nice and quiet, the students are inside, and the sound of the fountain is soothing. Or at least it drowns out Peeves' nonsensical cackling. Don't you think?"

She looked around him and drew in a deep, welcoming breath. The autumn air was crisp but reinvigorating to her own senses. A breath of clean air did her wonders as opposed to the heavy stone-walled atmosphere of the castle, "Hmm. I suppose."

The man tilted his head towards her direction, sliding his glasses back upon the bridge of his nose, "And what are you doing here?"

"Escaping my desk for a little while, " She couldn't stop the small yawn that escaped her lips, "I've just patrolled the grounds."

"Had enough of grading essays already?"

"Moreso my Auror my duties for the time being," Dawn stared at a seabird flying overhead in the distance, within the night sky, "Helping my team without physically being present has been quite an ordeal. It's strange having this somewhat temporary leave."

"I hope your current case isn't too bonkers. We don't need any more of that around."

She gave a light chuckle, "That's one word to describe it. Not being able to leave Hogwarts too frequently can be difficult."

"I'm sure Minerva will let you go for a while. You're lucky she's understanding of your situation."

"She does sometimes, but it's more so that I cannot bear to leave my post here. That'll make me a very terrible Defence teacher."

"It's nice to see someone who enjoys their work so much. Here, I mean, " Gregory smiled warmly, "You're very dedicated to the kids."

"Well, I can't fail them. Especially not in these times, " Dawn took a moment to pause, suddenly feeling the weight of that dilemma upon her chest, "The children are stressed enough and they have me worried at the state of their minds, more so within the last year. I do feel for the Slytherins who don't have the right support. Once again, they remain isolated."

"I heard only two went to see the new counselor so far. The others were too ashamed and prideful to go and deny they even have a problem, " Gregory shoved his hands in his pockets, "And I know that's not just a stubborn teenage phase."

Dawn nodded wearily, taking in a deep breath, and allowing the exhale to linger. She knew this, "I figured that would be the case. I don't know what to do, Gregory. They are not even from my own House, and I feel compelled to help them."

Gregory reached over to place a reassuring, friendly hand on her shoulder. He had always been such a comforting support over the years, assisting each other in their perilous personal journeys of recovery after the War. "You are doing what you can and it's better than doing nothing. We've all tried, but you…You haven't given up on them and I think that's what they need."

"I sure hope so, but it's never really that simple, is it?" She looked over at her colleague and returned a small smile in hopes to break the ice of the current conversation. Soon realising how much she longed for some sleep, she rose up from her perch beside the man and straightened her robes. She yawned again, "Anyway, I'll patrol the West tower before I head back to my quarters. Have a good night, Gregory."

"Likewise, Dawn."

Gregory waved at her with a charming, relaxed smile, as she strolled back into the castle.

Thoughts of the Slytherins flooded her mind as she drifted off to sleep, soon dreaming of young children screaming within the echoes walls of the castle. Her feet rooted to the spot, helpless, and panicked within her chest.

She awoke, startled, and silently wept.