"Headmaster Dumbledore." Severus spoke, rushing into the esteemed man's office with every ounce of grace he owned. Inside stood Minerva, leaning against Albus' desk with an agitated look on her face.

"Albu- oh, hullo Severus. Hogwarts business?"

"No, not today. I need to see the headmaster." Something akin to worry was evident on the potion's master's face, but Minerva didn't know what it could be.

"He isn't here, Severus. What's the matter?" McGonagall asked, getting off the desk.

"It really- Merlin damn us all, Potter has gone missing." Severus explained through gritted teeth. God, if she-

"Oh Severus, you must be so worried!" And there it was. "I don't know where he is, he stepped out so suddenly. I couldn't even hear where he was flooing too."

"Grand." He spat, rolling his eyes. "I suppose I must do something about this myself then."

"I'll help, Severus. You know, I always told Albus those muggles were the most horrid sort. I am very cross Mister Potter ran away, but I understand why he would. If I was subjected to that hell hole for the past sixteen years…"

"Hell hole?" Severus snorted. "It's precious saint Potter, his life is utter perfection and endearment."

"Is that what Albus told you? You know what, of course it is." Minerva sighed as they quickly walked through the empty Hogwarts halls. Most of the paintings vacated as well, travelling to other areas. "He was raised by Petunia, Lily's sister. Oh well, you would know sense-"

"Yes, I know who the bitch is." The esteemed Transfiguration professor took in a sharp breath, and Severus barely withheld rolling his eyes. "That's what she is, and how she's always been."

A stunning blue phoenix suddenly flew into the room, doing laps around both professors before speaking.

"Severus, Minerva, please come to my office." The bird spoke in Albus' voice. "I'm afraid I have some pressing news."

"Old coot," Severus muttered to himself, but the pair headed back upstairs .

While Severus Snape hated Harry Potter with a passion, he could not deny that he was worried for the boy. He wasn't sure why he was so concerned about the boy's well-being, as the two had never been close. Perhaps it was simply a parental instinct, a leftover remnant of human emotion buried deep within his heart. Although Snape would never admit it aloud, he feared for the boy's safety. And he didn't know why. Severus had lived long enough to know that nothing happened without a reason, but what reason could this be? He knew that the magical world was a dangerous place, full of hidden perils and unexpected dangers, and he worried that the boy might not be able to face them alone. If he was left in the muggle world, that was even worse. It would be even harder to find Harry there. He tried to convince himself that the worry was due to the stress of teaching, or the incoming year, but a small part of him, deep inside and hidden from his own conscious mind, told him that it was something more.

It sounded like Dumblesdores voice, so he promptly ignored it.

"Albus, what the hell is happening?" Minerva exclaimed as she barreled into the old man's office, Snape following quickly behind.

"I believe something something has happened to young Harry-"

"Quite right, Albus! The boy- well, Severus can tell you exactly what happened. I bet you it was Petunia's fault, horrid woman!" Minerva said, her Scottish accent thick in her words as she grew more heated.

"Severus? Will you explain your side of things?" Dumbledore asked, making Snape's eye twitch.

"For some ungodly reason, Miss Granger asked me to check up on Harry." He pulled a crisp letter out of his pocket and handed it to the headmaster to read. "When I asked Lupin to do it, he said he couldn't." Snape sneered.

"Ah, so you went to check on him?" Snape nodded, and Albus gestured for him to continue. Snape almost rolled his eyes.

"He wasn't moving. Just sitting in his bed, staring at the wall. It was as if he had experienced something horrible, whatever that could be." Snape muttered to himself. "I grabbed Potter by his shoulder, and he disintegrated."

"D-disintegrated?" Exclaimed Minerva, hand flying up to her mouth.

"Ah, I believe that was one of Harry's many fine illusions. He's gotten quite good at full body illusions, even getting them to walk and talk. At such a young age too!" Albus praised.

"Oh wow! Just as talented as you, Severus." Minerva crooned, fear forgotten as Albus compared the boy to him.

"Quite." Severus spoke through gritted teeth, ignoring the pang deep inside his chest that craved that sort of praise.

'My boy, just like me.' it seemed to say.

Absolutely disgusting.

"But, I must say, it was I who owled Miss Granger about Harry's whereabouts. Why on earth would she owl you, Severus?"

"'Mione!" Harry exclaimed, hugging his bushy haired friend as she stepped through the fireplace. Hermione grinned as she enveloped Harry in a large hug, silently appreciating the way Harry was slowly growing taller. While Ron and Hermione were originally a foot taller than Harry, the boy was catching up fast. They were almost the same height now! "Oh, let me go get Neville!" He shouted, running and slipping down the hallway in his socks.

"Did you do it?" Ron questioned. "Did it work?"

"Yep!" She whispered back, passing a copy of the letter she had written. One was now one Harry's desk, and two were residing in Longbottom Manor. She quickly pulled out another. "This is the one I wrote Snape."

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Neville exclaimed, running over and taking the letter from her. "This is bloody brilliant!"

"And you and Ron are supposedly in Germany right now! He'll never figure it out!" Harry exclaimed, addressing Ron and Neville. They weren't lying, they had gone to Germany, they just hadn't stayed. "Did your mum buy the excuse of the quidditch match?"

"Yeah, think so. She said she couldn't believe I was gonna go without you, but I said it was a once in a lifetime experience."

"Isn't that what I told you to say?" Hermione jokingly grumbled.

They casually made their way to Neville's room, talking and catching up on events that couldn't be talked about in letters. Including-

"He was honestly so sweet, I wish he had been a wizard." Hermione sighed, flopping down on Nevilles bed. Neville, being the only one really interested in the mooshy gooshy romance Hermione was sharing, was listening intently. "He called me 'mon chérie' it was so…" Hermione made some sort of squealing noise into her pillow.

"Oooh, he was french?" Neville questioned, leaning in. Hermione nodded dreamily.

"Boo, go back to Krum." Ron said, back turned to them as he tinkered on a piece of rune-glass. Harry was holding up a book for him, only half listening to both ongoing conversations.

"Prat." Hermione said, tossing a pillow at his head. Ron only guffawed, not looking up from his rune drawing.

"So like, how did you meet?" Neville pressed. Harry snickered as Ron rolled his eyes.

"Well, I was going up the steps to see the eiffel tower from above, and I tripped! I was so scared! We were so high up and I didn't wanna use magic in front of muggles, and he caught me before I fell! 'Vous êtes en sécurité, ma chérie' is what he said!"

"Boo, Krum good, french bad!" Ron said again. Hermione threw another soft pillow at Ron, this time missing and hitting the wall.

"Jealous, Ron?" Harry teased. Ron just rolled his eyes.

"Course not, you know I'm owling Lavender."

"Lavender Brown?" Hermione questioned, rolling off her back to look at Ron. "When did this happen?"

Ron just shrugged.

"She said she was impressed by my O.W.L work for Charms."

"Annnnnd?" Hermione pressed. Ron just shrugged again.

"Now we owl?" Hermione groaned, causing Neville and Harry to laugh. The joy didn't last for long though, as Ron exclaimed a loud "Shit!"

"What happened, Ron?" Harry dropped the book he was holding leaning over to check on his friend.

Ron had slit his finger on the carving tool by accident. Alright, nothing too bad.

Until a drop of blooded landed on a half-written heating rune.

"Everyone run!" Ron shouted, shocking Hermione and Neville into motion. The group of four quickly ran out of Neville's room, slamming the door seconds before a small explosion happened.

"Everyone okay?" Harry gasped, checking in.

"I left my book, but besides that I'm alright."

"I'll get you a new one, Hermione." Harry assured, turning to Ron to do the same.

"What happened?" A new voice asked, Neville's Grandma!

"Gran, I'm so sorry-" Neville went to appease, but Ron cut in.

"It was my fault. I was craving some new runes into rune-glass and cut my finger." He held up the bloody digit. "Blood landed on a half made warming rune and it exploded. I'm really sorry."

"Give me your hand, son." The matron said, pulling out her wand. She muttered a few healing spells, and with a wince, Ron's skin stitched up again. "Not much we can do about the room, I suppose. Neville, you'll likely have to room with someone else. I'll clear out the room so you can check up on your plants.

"It's alright," Neville assured. "I've been rooming with Harry anyways. Most of my plants are there." Madam Longbottom gave her grandson a look, one he couldn't miss.

Quickly, the older woman began clearing the room of any smoke of debris left over. The walls were intact, just covered in a few scorch marks here and there. The bed sheets would need to be fixed, but she would have Mospy change those out. Her thoughts still lingered on what her grandson had said. Rooming with Harry? Were they, perhaps, together?

Well, she would have to ask.

"Neville, come down to the kitchen for a moment." she said, walking down the stairs with grace. Neville grimaced, but followed quickly.

His gran was quiet as she drank her hot tea, sipping it slowly. Neville fiddled with his cup, not saying anything.

"Are you in love with him?" She finally asked.

"In love- what, wait, who are we talking about?" Neville stuttered, almost dropping the cup he had finally picked up to take a sip out of.

"With Harry, Neville. Now, if you are I won't intervene but I feel i must warn you on the dangers of underage sex-"

"NO! Merlin, no, we aren't, it's not like that, we just." Neville sighed. He couldn't believe he was about to say this. "I love Harry. I don't think I could live without him. We are… we're connected in some way. If he dies, I will die after. But I'm not, I wouldn't wanna…" Neville's face flushed pink.

"Bugger him?" His gran asked, the crude language sounding odd coming from her. Neville nodded stiffly, red face still staring at the floor.

"You're so much like your father, Neville." She said softly, reaching over and grabbing his hand. "I believe I had this very same talk with him. Word for word."

"R-really?"

"Indeed." She took another sip of her tea. "His name was Joshua Holmes, a muggleborn in his year. They were thick as thieves. I always thought they were a couple, until he brought home your mother. He said-" she sighed, placing her cup down. "That if Joshua were to pass, he would pass soon after."

"Did, did Joshua pass?" Neville asked in a quiet whisper.

"Yes, he did. A few weeks," her breath hitched. "A few weeks before the attack."

"Oh, Gran." Neville squeezed her hand, and the older woman let out a watery laugh. He ignored the stab of guilt in his gut. His father was still alive.

"I always figured Frank, somewhere in his mind, is a little disappointed. Joshua was supposed to be your godfather, you know."

Neville said nothing as he held his grandmother's hand, letting the older woman tell him quiet tales about his father, things he had never been told before.

It comforted Neville in a way he couldn't explain.

"Ah, Augusta!" Dumbledore announced cheerfully, coming through the fireplace. Hermione froze, book falling out of her lap. How did- how was he-

"Albus. Good of you to come unannounced."

"I'm afraid it's important." Albus sighed. "Harry is missing."

"Yes, I've heard. Hogwash if you ask me. How can one just lose a boy?"

"I'm afraid it happens every so often."

"You're afraid of a lot of things, aren't you, Albus." The jovial tone had left Augusta's voice. Albus sighed, this one making him sound many years older then he already was.

"I'm afraid so, Augusta."

Hermione bolted up the stairs as quietly as she could.

"Harry! He's here!" She said, closing the door. "We need to do something, He's downstairs!"

"Who, 'Mione?" Harry questioned, rolling up his charms homework.

"Dumbledore!"

Ron was the first to move, quickly spitting in his hands and pressing them against two sides of the door. It flashed a brilliant yellow, igniting the synced runes within the room. Harry stared in amazement for a moment, knowing that he had helped Ron (holding a book is helping, thank you very much!) create such awesome runes.

Neville and him moved next. Neville, with Hermione's help, moved pots of vines in front of the door. Harry imagined larger, scary vines, and let his magic attach to the plants in front of him, blocking the door.

They held their breath, not daring to move or speak.

"Do you think we're good?" Neville whispered.

"What wonderful wards, Mr. Weasley!" A voice exclaimed. Harry's head fell to his hands. Dumbledore. "If you could lower them so I could talk to Harry, that would also be quite wonderful!" Ron stared at Harry.

"Uh, Harry's not here." He was looking at Harry

"Are you sure Mr. Weasley?"

"Yep." Nope, Harry was right there.

"Well, his magical signature says he is."

"Those are his trousers."

"His… trousers?"

"Yep." He was making eye contact with Harry Potter.

"Ron, just let him in." Harry muttered. Standing up and beginning to pack his bags. Neville and Hermione shared a look, looking at each other as Harry slowly brought his illusions down.

"Absolutely wonderful, Mr. Weasley!" Dumbledore slowly stepped into the room. "Mr. Longbottom, Mrs. Granger too!"

"Professor." Hermione said, voice steady, as if she hadn't just tried to keep their professor locked out of Harry's room. Neville stayed silent. Slowly, Dumbledore lowered himself on the ground, sitting crisscrossed. The teens stared, looking at each other, confused.

"I have read that, when conversing with teenagers, it is more likely to go well if you can all be on the same level. Come, come sit." Albus' eyes twinkled as Harry and Ron instinctively sat down, Hermione and Neville following soon after.

"Harry, be honest with me, how long have you been here?" Dumbledore asked, not unkindly. The man seemed genuinely interested in Harry's whereabouts.

"About two weeks, Harry."

"And the rest of you?" Ron and Hermione replied with their respective answers, both looking down at the ground. "Well, Harry, I should tell you that it's time to go back to your aunt and uncle, but," Dumbeldore sighed, taking off his moon shaped glasses to rub his nose softly. "I assume that wouldn't go over well?"

The looks on their faces confirmed this.

"They hate him professor," Neville began. "He can stay with us! You know Gran doesn't mind."

"Severus wouldn't mind either, Harry." Dumbledore interjected. The room dropped ten degrees, all of the students on guard until DUmbledore eventually stood with a sigh. "Though I suppose it's better to keep you safe and happy. See you all on the first, then." Dumbledore said his goodbyes rather quickly, leaving four teenagers to stare in shock.

"Did he just?"

"Yeah, I think he did."

"Great." Neville said cautiously, looking around at everyone. "So, uh, gobstones?"

"Grandpa!" Harry yelled, bursting into the kitchen. Tom startled, alarmed, before smiling happy, gums and all.

"Harry! How have you been, kid?" Harry hugged the old man, Tom gesturing to his two friends behind them. Ron and Neville walked in, both smiling and shaking the man's hand. Tom sat them down at the tiny dining table in the back, getting them set up with tea and a tray of biscuits.

"Tom, where it- Harry!" Mary said, the older woman bustling around to him, covering his cheeks in kisses. "It's been too long, and you've brought friends!" Mary hugged her boy, eventually pulling the other two into it as well. "How have you been, Love? Oh you must be so relieved to be away from those muggles. Have you enjoyed summer?"

All three answered her questions, laughing as Tom would lovingly mimic her fast pace talking from behind her back. Mary must have known he was doing it, as whenever Tom turned around she would stick her tongue out at the man.

Harry smiled, laughing when Neville and Ron both lunged for the last biscuit on the small plate. If his parents were still alive, would it be like this? Would he be sitting at a dining room table, Ron and Neville right next to him? Would he have siblings running around, grandparents that would replace Tom and Mary?

Harry didn't know, but he also didn't want to think about it. He had a family now, and he was more than content enough to keep it at the forefront of his mind.

"Harry, is it true you can cook?" Ron asked.

"'Course." Harry said with a nod. "Told you I worked here." The redhead's eyes were shining with joy (and a little mischievousness) as he pulled Harry up. It was past the lunch hour, so Tom gave them permission to use the kitchen, Mary settling with a cup of warm tea.

"Teach us how to cook!" Harry laughed at his friends, rolling up his sleeves as they flicked through a green cookbook, Mary telling them random pages that they flicked through.

"Let's make cupcakes!" Ron said, cheering as they settled on a flavour.

Mary smiled at her pseudo grandchildren, taking a sip of her tea. Her heart soared as she saw these teenagers, almost legal adults in their world, smiling and acting like children.

With all that was happening, they deserved it.

Two hours passed, Harry, Neville, and Ron all covered in flour, but their cupcakes were done. Ron laughed, wiping his hands on a towel as Mary floated the cupcakes out of the oven.

"Blimey, I don't know how you do it!" Ron cheered as he bit into the bare cupcake, Harry staring at his friend, appalled.

"Ooh, give me one too!" Neville reached over, plucking a freshly baked cupcake out of the pan. Neville bit into it, groaning at the taste.

"These are bloody fantastic!" Neville cocked his eye at Harry's open mouth. "What? Do you not want one?"

"Are they not hot?" Harry asked, hand held over the pan. They sure felt hot.

"No?" Ron questioned, crumbs falling out of his mouth as he talked. "Why would they be?"

"Because we just got them out of the oven?" Harry said, voice raising in confusion.

"Harry, this is a magic pan, it cools the food as soon as it comes out of the oven."

"Seriously?" Harry said, taking a cupcake from the pan slowly. It wasn't hot at all! It was nice and warm, sure, but Harry was able to take a big bite without having to wait for the cupcakes to cool. It made them softer, fluffier in Harry's mouth.

"Boys, I think you are forgetting something." Mary said in a singson voice, getting up from her chair and heading over to the pantry, opening the door to dig somewhere in it.

"What is it?" Neville asked, standing on his tiptoes to see over. Mary stood up, holding a metal container.

"Icing! For the cupcakes"

Suffice to say, more icing went in their mouth then on their batch of cupcakes, but the boys were fine with it. It was a delicious, plain vanilla flavour that paired well with their sweet treats (and their spoons, according to Ron who had chosen to eat the rest of the container's contents.)

"Boys, it's getting late you know, you best hurry if you want to finish your shopping." All three boys groaned, slowing their cleaning of the kitchen to stay longer. "Come now, Augusta won't like it if I keep you."

"You know Gran?" Neville asked. Mary nodded.

"We were prefects together, me and her. She's a good woman." Mary waved her wand, dishes beginning to wash themselves in the sink, dry themselves, or fly into the open cabinets. "Now, you know I love you all here, but off you trot! I will be seeing you on another day." Mary hugged all of them, ushering them out the door with a smile.

"Best write!" she called out as Tom shook their hands and patted their backs, giving them all a little drink on the road. They all shouted back in agreement, leaving Mary and Tom smiling from cheek to cheek.

"They're good kids." Mary said softly. Tom patted his wife's back gently, rubbing soothing circles on it. "Harry reminds me so much of-" her voice caught, thinking of her son. Tears shone in her eyes as her hand laid itself on her heart.

"They're fine boys, Mary darling. They'll be just fine."

Yes, thought Mary, yes they would be.

"Quit shocking me!"

"It's not my fault, it's the electricity!"

"Well now Harry is just making up words." Ron said as they all shoved into their back to school compartment, trunks clicking and scraping, warm jackets rubbing up against the static, creating electricity. Hermione followed, her own trunk floating behind her with ease. She rolled her eyes, gunning for the window seat as everyone else struggled to lift their trunks up to the top.

"Honestly, Ronald, I don't get why you don't do it with magic!" Ron bristled lightly, sticking his tongue out childishly. "It's much easier!"

"Course it is," Ron grunted, giving his object one last push. "But I look much better putting the work in." He flexed in the window, bringing a snort from both Harry and Neville, and an eye roll from Hermione.

Harry sat down next to Neville, the other boy pulling out a downsized herbology book from his pocket and resizing it to read on their journey. He had both Gobstones and Happy Families in his other pocket, waiting to be pulled out the minute one of them decided they were bored. Harry sat, hand pulling out the badge in his pocket, fiddling with it softly.

Was quidditch something he actually wanted? He knew he loved the game, but to actually coach it? It wasn't something he had ever found himself doing, but apparently the head of houses found he was the best for the job.

Snape probably voted against it, and for some reason, his heart hurt at that. Many nights of staying up late and thinking had Harry convinced that the voice that found him mid breakdown had been the one severus Snape, although now he wasn't so sure. It could have been any male in the house that day, but Moody had a raspier voice, and Arthur was unable too, and Sirius would have been much kinder.

No, it was definitely Severus.

"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked, looking up from the muggle colouring book Hermione had brought for him. He had seen her doing it and immediately took up the pastime.

"We had colouring pages growing up, yeah," Ron had explained, chewing his sandwich. "But, you just pointed a wand at the book and it coloured. It wasn't as fun as this, I'll tell you."

"Yeah, I'm alright." Harry said with a sigh. "Just, I never saw myself being a coach. I like playing, but actually commanding it? Never crossed my mind."

"I mean, you can always give it up," Ron said with a shrug, reaching for it with a laugh. Harry gasped, pulling it to his chest.

"No!"

"Then what are you complaining for?"

"I'm not complaining, I just don't know if I can do it."

"Of course you can," Hermione said, giving Harry a soft look. "You're the best player on our team, and I guarantee you can ask McGonagall or Wood for notes."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Oh yeah, what classes are you taking Hermione?" Harry asked his friend, turning his body to lean against Nevilles arm.

"Same as last year, although I did drop Divination."

"Didn't you drop it last year?" Neville questioned.

"Well, not technically,"Hermione trailed.

"I thought you dropped it in third?" Ron was bewildered. Suddenly Harry gasped.

"Hermione Jean Granger!"

"Harry, you can't blame me?" She whined, hiding her flushed face behind a book. "It was so boring! And she didn't even notice I was gone!"

"What do you mean?" Ron pressed. When Hermione didn't answer, Harry spoke up for her.

"'Mione has been skipping class for two years!"

"Bloody hell…" Muttered Neville, book forgotten as they all dissolved into laughter. A few hours later had Ron complaining of boredom, the colouring book no longer satisfying his curiosity. So, they whipped out the popular muggle game (thank you, Hermione and Harry) Happy Families.

"Do you have a… Niece!" Ron called out, pointing at Neville. The bastard smirked, pointing to the slowly diminishing pile.

"Grab. Another. Member."

"Rats." The redhead muttered, grabbing another card. Hermione and Harry shared twin looks, each looking at the backside of each other's cards, trying to guess which one was inside each other's hands. They sat comfortably on the compartment floor, enough room for all of them to stretch their legs.

"Hermione, can I have your grandfather?" Neville asked, much calmer than Ron as Hermione handed her card over to a grinning Neville.

"How do you always do that?" Neville said nothing, turning to ask Harry for a different card. A knock rang on the door, Harry shouting a loud "Come in!"

There stood Daphne, Blaise, Tracey, and… Malfoy?!

"May we join you?" Daphne said, stepping over their seated form all the while. Hermione moved a bit, letting Daphne and Tracey sit beside her, albeit on the seats. Blaise gave a soft hello to the boys, Malfoy following with a terse grin. He looked pale, unhealthy. Harry narrowed his eyes.

Malfoy looked like Harry did, coming back from his gracious aunt and uncle. It rubbed Harry the wrong way.

"And why's he here?" Ron wasn't scared to ask, looking pointedly at the blonde headed boy sitting behind Harry and by Blaise. Malfoy opened his mouth, likely to say something rude and crass, but Blaise covered his mouth with his hand.

"Gregory and Vinc- Crabbe and Goyle got together, and none of us can stand their goo-goo eyes. It's quite annoying, and we aren't as cruel as to leave Draco there on his own. We said he could stay as long as he's civil."

Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Harry shared a look, a long round of shrugs passing through them in silent conversation.

"Sure." Said Neville, snatching a card from Harry's hand. "Long as he's nice, I suppose." Malfoy looked a bit surprised by that, the game continuing as the Slytherin watched. Harry reached into Nevilles bag.

"No, no more cupcakes!" Neville said, slapping his hand away.

"I made the damn things!" Harry said with an eye roll, reaching further to pull out a bunch. He passed the wrapped treats to the newcomers, each taking one gingerly. He held one up to Malfoy, waiting for the blonde to take it. He was going to make a snide remark, but Blaise beat him to it.

"That's where you take it, Draco." The blonde tisked, swiping the cupcake out of Harry's hand and unwrapping it. Harry rolled his eyes, sneaking another cupcake for himself.

"You said you made these, Harry?" Daphne asked. Harry nodded with a smile. "I like them, they're very good." Tracey and Blaise both agreed, both taking large bites out of the treats. Even Malfoy unwrapped it, taking a small bite from it before looking at Blaise, who waved his hand as if conducting a toddler.

"Adequate, Potter." Was all Malfoy said before eating the cupcake in four massive bites, as if he was a starved man. Harry smiled sadly to himself, passing up sandwiches and homemade tea as well.

Malfoy may be an arse, but Harry wasn't going to let anyone starve. He was a murderer, not cruel.

Slowly, the game continued, Daphne joining in after learning the rules. The others preferred to watch, all gaining amusement as Ron lost card after card, never getting a pair from his friends (even with Blaise whispering Harry's cards at him, Ron wasn't very good at reading lips, and instead said completely different cards). All in all, it was a lot of fun.

"See you in potions, yeah?" Blaise asked before he left their compartment to change and exit the train.

"I only got an EE, I won't be able to attend Snape's class."

"Haven't you heard?" Blaise asked, confused. "Snape isn't teaching positions this year. Some man named Slughorn is."

I just wanna apologise for being gone for almost 2 months T-T Inktober took up sooo much time (I will one day get around to posting that fic istg!) but with NaNoWriMo happening I am good to get a few chapters (maybe even most) out on this fic!