Chapter 2- The Best Person in the World
"Don't forget to pack at least one Weasley sweater," Ginny said, "It's deathly cold up there."
"And those books I got you about wizarding pedagogy," said Hermione.
"And that stash of weed I got you for your birthday," Ron added.
"Check, check, check," Harry said.
"Oh also," Hermione said, coming up behind him. "Can you deliver this to Neville in person?" It was an envelope with scarlett ink reading "To Hogwarts' Resident Herbologist."
Ron eyed it from Harry's bed, where he was lying down and throwing a quaffle in the air and catching it. "Should I be jealous?"
"Yes," Harry and Hermione said at the same time.
It was September 1st and Harry was due to Apparate into Hogsmeade that day, a few days before term started, so he could get settled and prepare his classroom for students.
And meet his colleagues. Everytime he thought about it, it was like a fish flopping in his stomach.
Harry secured Hermione's letter under the cover of one of the books she'd gifted him and closed his trunk. He waved his wand over it to lighten it and carried it off his desk. When he turned around, his friends and Ginny looked at him like he was graduating university.
He laughed because it was funny but also to hide how embarrassed he felt. He knew they knew why he was doing this and it hurt that he needed this, that he needed anything after the time they'd had. He couldn't handle the especially knowing look in Hermione's eyes so he just didn't meet anyone's gaze.
"I'll see you all very soon- I'll try to make it before Christmas," he said. He looked up at the ceiling because, humiliatingly, his eyes were welling up with tears.
"Christmas?" Ron said in disbelief. "I'll come drag you from there myself if you can't get a weekend away before that."
Harry laughed. "I know, I think I'm just saying things." He shook his head a little to wedge the tears back from where they came from.
"See you soon," he said and the last thing he saw before he Apparated was Ginny coming in for a kiss.
His plan was to walk straight up the hill to Hogwarts after arriving in Hogsmeade but when he got there, it was raining heavily and he was almost immediately soaked. He saw the Three Broomsticks and thought it would be easier to walk up the hill once the rain died down- and just the site of the pub made him desperately want a drink.
It was still quite early, around noon, so there was nearly no one in there. This seemed very lucky to Harry, who liked to avoid the consequences of his notoriety wherever he went. On the off chance it did begin to fill up before he left, he chose a dark corner.
He ordered a Wizard's Brew which also came with a complimentary ButterBeer. He smiled shyly at the barmaid as she served it to him. Looking around, it was clear no one else received the same treatment.
When he was almost done with this beer (he'd easily managed to down it before it got warm) and ready to people watch good and proper, Snape stalked in through the double doors.
Harry hiccuped with the surprise of it- the image of him coming in was like an American western- Snape was a dark cowboy and Harry felt like one too many in this town.
Without thinking about it, Harry whispered an incantation to render himself unnoticeable- a charm he often used as an Auror and second nature for him to cast.
He did it in time before Snape's penetrating gaze sweeped the room in a customary fashion but Harry could tell by the way Snape's hand moved toward the pocket of his robes that Snape had felt the heat of magic from his casting.
Harry smiled, ducking his head down to hide it as if Snape could see. It comforted him to think that Snape still had his uncanny way of knowing everything.
But there wasn't much comfort in anything else he observed in the next hour he watched Snape. He sat at the end of the bar, making sure to face the door, Harry noticed, and scowled at Madam Rosmerta herself when she came to serve him, even as she cooed "Well hello, Severus,"- something about her tone bothered Harry and gave him a bit of a scowl of his own.
Snape had more stubble than Harry remembered him having in school and Harry almost immediately realized why. The scars on Snape's neck from Negini's bites hadn't faded- they were there, raised and sort of bluish purple, and Snape's facial hair trailing down his neck somewhat disguised it. Otherwise he looked very much the same. Black robes, black hair, black eyes. He slowly sipped three glasses of Firewhisky in that hour and spoke to no one and read nothing and looked nowhere.
By the time Snape moved from the stool, what was left of Harry's beer was well and truly warm- he'd been too nervous to take a swipe lest Snape notice him, even with the charm in place.
Madam Rosmerta appeared in front of Snape before he left. "On your tab, dear?"
Snape looked Harry straight in the eyes. "No- this one's on Potter."
And he was out of the Three Broomsticks before Harry's eyebrows could come back down to their usual place on his face.
Harry couldn't feel his limbs all the way up to the castle and through to his living quarters, which he was directed to by a house elf. They were like a miniature version of the Gryffindor common room and dorms, with one larger four poster bed then 5 smaller ones, and Harry would have been quite taken with the scene if it weren't for his numbness and fish flop stomach.
There were several staff meetings during the day and Snape scowled through all of them, not saying a word. Despite the lingering shame for being caught out in the Three Broomsticks, Harry couldn't help trying to get a better look at Snape's scars. Everytime he did venture a gaze though, it seemed Snape could sense it and would meet Harry's eyes and dare him to keep looking.
The first meeting was particularly embarrassing for Harry because Headmistress Mcgonagall welcomed him in front of the entire staff and Neville called out "Woohoo, Harry!" during the short applause. After greetings and going over uniform curriculum understandings, they were released for a couple of hours to spruce up their classrooms.
Neville walked Harry to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the 3rd floor, which Harry still remembered his way to.
"I have this for you from Hermione," Harry said, taking the letter out of his robe.
Neville grinned. "Been waiting for this!"
Harry laughed. "I don't want to know what you two are up to."
They reached the classroom- it was dank and dusty and Harry immediately waved his wand to open the shades. The room became flooded with the harsh white light of the sky outside, which had stopped raining but remained opaque with clouds.
"Holy shit," Harry said, looking around the room. "How weird is it teaching here?" he asked Neville, who started opening some of the drawers in the cabinets cautiously to check for unwanted residents. "Is it like living in your memories?"
"Not exactly," Neville said. "It's cooler- cause you get to do it over."
Harry waved his wand again to rid the room of dust and cobwebs. "Looks like Snape won't allow do overs. I still feel 13 around him." It felt good to say it out loud.
"Oh, don't take it personally. He's like that with everyone," Neville said.
Harry frowned. That almost made it worse somehow.
"Not that I blame him, really," Neville said. "After the war with everyone calling him a hero and stuff, it's not really in his personality to handle all that, is it?"
But it was in Harry's? He kept that thought silent and replied, "Right."
"And besides that a lot of people still don't even trust him still. Bet he kind of likes that," Neville laughed. As he kept checking empty drawers, one of them to his left rattled. Neville paused. "Think it's a boggart?"
"Speak of the devil," Harry said, giving Neville a knowing look. Neville's boggart turned into Snape when they faced it in class in their third year at Hogwarts.
Neville snorted. "It wouldn't turn into Snape anymore for me, Harry," he said. Then, his brow furrowed. "At least I hope not."
Neville helped him for the rest of the afternoon with preparing the room. It had ended up being a boggart in the drawer and before it was fully formed into a dementor for Harry, Neville got it trapped in a chest they'd transfigured from a broken desk chair. Harry wanted to save it for a later lesson. They created posters to hang on the wall together with dark creatures and useful shortcuts to remember essential spells. Harry brought dark magic detector tools that they worked to find places for in the room. They removed junk from drawers from past Defense teacher after Defense teacher who'd never bothered to clean after themselves properly.
After getting supplies and writing to the head of houses additional supplies they would need in the coming year, Neville and Harry realized they'd missed lunch.
"Shoot," Harry said. "I'm tired already. Thanks for helping me- don't you have your own room to tend to?"
"When you're a veteran teacher, Harry, you'll have time to help a friend too," Neville said knowingly and they both laughed.
"Let's see how long I last."
They went their separate ways after that and Harry went back to his rooms to shower and change. He felt covered in dust and more than once had accidentally touched hardened pieces of chewing gum under pupil desks as he was rearranging them.
His quarters had some magical comforts that his flat in London lacked. There was a small fireplace that seemed to light itself when the temperature dropped too low, made more comforting by the cold dry stone of the castle walls. In the bathroom a tub, sort of like the one Harry'd found in the Prefect bathroom but smaller, provided different options of soap scents and water pressures and spouts. A thick robe was hung next to the tub that seemed to warm itself. On the long and wide wooden desk, which was right outside the bathroom, there was a kettle that heated water with the wave of a hand, a selection of teas, and two mugs. Near this there was an instruction card for calling a house elf if he needed anything. On the other side of his bed was a window facing the lake and a large leather armchair that Harry poked cautiously with his wand, out of the habit of checking for people in his furniture.
It still wasn't dark outside, but the sun was setting and it made the cloudy sky a stormy gray blue. After his shower (highest water pressure, minty soap), he sat in the armchair in a bathrobe and stared out the window until quite suddenly an hour seemed to pass and he was sitting in the dark and his skin was dry from the heat of the fire and his robe slipped down his shoulder.
This made him cold again and he shivered awake.
Dinner was a modest feast prepared for the staff's first night in the castle and Harry was happy to see new additions to the menu items he'd known during his time at school; curry, prawns the size of his face, and large decanters of red and white wine that Harry was both thirsty for and afraid of.
Neville wasn't there yet but Snape was, sitting toward the end of the long dining table on the dias of the Great Hall. He was no doubt eager not to be stuck between too many of his peers. Even so, he was in hushed conversation with McGonagall, who sat at the head of the table. In mid sentence, when she spotted Harry, she reached out a hand and made a 'come here' motion, then patted the seat next to her and Harry waved apologetically to Hagrid, who tried to wave him over.
Snape glared at Harry as he lowered himself into the seat right across from him but to be fair, everything he did with his face seemed like a glare. They made eye contact and Harry felt his stomach drop.
"Harry, dear," McGonagall said. "Welcome back." She'd grown more matronly it seemed since the war, but Harry didn't mind. He felt more comforted by her presence than he'd expected to.
Harry smelled Neville before he saw him, the dirt and greenhouse air lingering in his clothes. Snape's face suddenly went blank, which Harry imagined meant he smelt Neville too and was focusing on not commenting.
"Hello, everyone!" Neville said cheerly, sinking into the seat on Harry's left. Harry felt uncomfortable not facing the door but tried to ignore it- since Auror training he often had to fight these instincts in public so he didn't make other people feel on edge. It helped that Snape was opposite him.
Him and McGonagall resumed their conversation- Harry was annoyed he couldn't hear anything they were saying, almost as if they'd charmed their voices not to carry.
He gave up and turned to Neville.
"Wine?" Harry offered.
"Please," said Neville, budging his class over.
Harry poured red into both their glasses and resisted the urge to overpour his. He probably would have if the glass wasn't clear. "How's the greenhouse looking? 'Fraid you haven't had much time with how much you helped me out," he said, feeling guilty.
"Already commissioning others to do your work for you, Potter?" Snape suddenly interjected. Harry looked at him, unable to keep his mouth from hanging open slightly. He'd been on edge since he left his flat this morning, waiting for this to happen, wondering if it would, and here it was.
"Severus," McGonagall started, but Harry interrupted her before she could start.
"It's alright, Professor," Harry said to her. "We wouldn't want Professor Snape to think I'd commissioned you to defend me."
Neville snorted into his wine glass but quickly put it down and began to spoon rice and curry into his plate when Snape scowled at him. No one else at the table was paying attention to their exchange, or at least they were pretending not to and the hall was adin with the clatter of utensils and conversation.
Snape said nothing but looked at McGonagall like, this is who you hired? and she smirked back at him, barely trying to hide it behind her glass.
As him and Neville continued talking, Harry assumed Snape was listening. Flitwick, who was on Snape's other side, kept saying "Severus, Severus," and repeating a joke he'd heard to Snape and laughing himself silly while Snape looked at him bored and said nothing or something like "Hilarious."
"So are you still on with the Aurors or have you officially told them to fuck off?"
Harry laughed. "You said fuck in front of the professors."
"We're the professors!" Neville said cheerfully around a mouthful of curry. They both suddenly thought that was quite hilarious and Harry had to be careful not to choke.
"No, I dunno. I didn't tell them to leave me alone or anything. Suppose they could ask for help at some point. I left Ron in charge, so I think it'll be okay but he's juggling that with George's joke shop so who knows."
"Well, your first year teaching can kind of be intense, learning to keep up with the planning and the grading and everything. Not as exciting as Auror work but still…exhausting sometimes."
Harry was already exhausted emotionally by the day he just had, which was relatively uneventful, but he didn't say that for a few reasons. The wine was already making him sleepy.
Suddenly he lost his appetite and he wanted nothing more than to be unnoticed by anyone at the table or curled up in his four poster bed where the cold couldn't get him. He stopped eating and tried not to watch Snape's scarred throat when he drank and tried not to have the thought that he wished he could see the man eat with his hands.
He managed to get through dinner without saying much else and said goodnight to everyone.
He fell asleep quickly and didn't remember his dreams.
The next morning, Harry decided that this would be the day he spoke to Snape plainly and clearly. He would do it early on when he had the most energy to deal with Snape's scorn and total hatred of him, which hurt more than he'd previously understood.
When he got to the Great Hall, there were smaller tables set up for breakfast instead of the one long table and Harry trickled in closer to their meeting time at 9. The food disappeared when he took a seat next to Hagrid but the coffee thankfully remained. He poured himself a cup while McGonagall went through a customary and legal reading of Wizarding Education Statutes. When she finished, almost an hour later with people stopping to ask questions, everyone had to sign the scroll. Snape signed first and left.
Harry somehow got caught at the end of the line, which gave him some time to chicken out of his resolution. But after signing, he followed the old dreaded route to the dungeons where Snape's classroom was and knocked on the door before he could talk himself out of it.
"Come in," Snape called.
The Potions tables were covered in boxes of ingredients and new books that had to be sorted. Snape seemed not to be using magic to do any of this, his hands full with jars, his robes off and his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing his dark mark. Harry tried not to stare.
"What did I do to deserve this most illustrious visit, Potter?" Snape asked.
"Right," Harry started, mouth dry. "I don't have a speech prepared or anything but here it is. I-"
Harry stopped and he thought for a moment he might just end there, turn around and go. Everything he immediately thought to say, he couldn't, because it was some crazy stuck-in-your-head, stuck-in-your-throat thing to blurt out like I can't believe you are who you are or I'm sorry or I can't stop thinking about you.
"It's been years and we never- we never talked about what happened at the Battle of Hogwarts or when you gave me your memories, what it meant. It meant-" Harry swallowed "It means a lot to me. I think about it all the time."
He stopped because suddenly he wasn't numb. He was very, very alive and trying to stop his voice from shaking.
"I know you probably would be happy to never hear from me again or be overjoyed or something if we just never spoke about it and you could just keep hurling insults at me or whatever but I can't, I can't-" he inhaled deeply, "go one more day without telling you how I feel about it."
Because Harry had always been stupidly brave, he risked a look at Snape's face. Snape was dark, like a stage curtained closed, and blank, so blank.
"I just, I'm- um," Harry went on, "I'm so, so grateful. And before you say anything," Harry raised a hand because Snape had opened his mouth at that and he was scowling again, ready to bark.
Harry's hand balled into a fist because it was hard to speak and he was getting the stuck feeling again.
"I know you didn't do it for me and that's why I'm grateful."
Snape said nothing.
"My parents gave up everything for me and I spent my life sort of wishing they hadn't. So I don't imagine for a moment that your sacrifice had anything to do with me. And um," Harry stopped again, thinking he couldn't possibly go on and he laughed for a moment to mask the pain "the idea that someone all along couldn't live with what happened to her, was burning all that time with the wrongness of it- that for someone in this world, she was the story and not me-"
It was okay because he knew he was nearly done. "I'll never forget that you did that. And basically, I think you're the best person that ever lived."
They were both so still that the most movement in the room came from the soft swing of gillyweed leaves in a jar of water.
"And uh- that's it, I guess. Have a good start of term, Professor."
And he left the room.