One Year After

Harry was returning to the British Wizarding World after a year travelling around Europe. At the end of the war, Harry had felt the need to put a distance between himself and the rest of the Wizarding World; otherwise, he wouldn't be able to overcome his depression.

The carnage of the final months of war had affected everyone profoundly. It hadn't been easy to lose Dumbledore, McGonagall, Bill Weasley... But the worst for Harry had been the last battle: he had managed to defeat Voldemort, but only because Ron had jumped in front of Harry to protect him in the most decisive moment. Ron, his best friend, had died to save him. This Harry couldn't accept, neither back then, nor now.

Harry had felt bad for having left his surviving friends, but what could he have done for them? The Weasleys were drowning in the pain of their loss, and the presence of the one responsible for one of those deaths wouldn't make things easier for them. Hermione had left for Bulgaria with Viktor, who had fought in the war on the side of the Order. Remus had disappeared. Hogwarts had been completely destroyed.

As for Snape, Harry hadn't had the courage to face him again. The way Snape had rejected him on the eve of the final battle had shattered him. That was another reason why Harry had had to leave. It would have been too painful to see Snape again.

He had had pleasant moments in his trip; he had seen beautiful and interesting places, but the pain had always been there. During the three weeks he had spent with Hermione and Viktor in Bulgaria, he had even had a boyfriend. Anton, Viktor's cousin, was kind and understanding, and a good lover. But when the feeling of emptiness had become too intense, Harry had decided it was time to go back. He wanted to work in the Wizarding World. He still didn't know what he could do; now that he had defeated Voldemort, the Wizarding Word didn't have any use for the Boy-Who-Lived.

However, when he arrived at Hogsmeade and rented a room in a cheap hotel, he discovered that everything had changed. Devastated by the war and disappointed with itself, the Wizarding World, under the direction of the new Minister for Magic, Arthur Weasley, had moved closer to the Muggle World and - partly out of necessity, but also in search of new resources and ideas - had adopted many of its ways. Theoretically, the idea seemed good: to combine the best of the two worlds. And it seemed to be working. But Harry couldn't adapt to this new world.

With the destruction of Hogwarts, the children now studied in smaller schools, in ordinary buildings spread through the village. The old teachers had retired, and without them the traditions seemed to be quickly fading away. Quidditch was still played, but with new rules designed to reduce violence, and Muggle sports like football, rugby and golf were becoming popular among the wizards. The Muggle technology, with its ephemeral glitter and persistent noise, had conquered Hogsmeade, now crammed with televisions, computers, mobile phones...

For a month Harry wandered through Hogsmeade. He visited a few of his surviving friends: Seamus was married and teaching Charms in a school; Neville owned an Apothecary, where he would sell herbs, potions ingredients and potions on demand. Everybody seemed, if not happy, at least settled down. And Harry felt even more out of place than he had felt in Europe.

No news about Snape. Not that Harry had asked about him. But he also wasn't able to suppress the wish to know where he was and what he was doing.

Harry missed Hogwarts so much that he decided to go the site where the Castle used to be. He didn't feel willing to go and visit the cemeteries where his friends who had died in the war were buried, but to visit the ruins of Hogwarts seemed to him an appropriate way of mourning his friends and an era that had come to an end.

He decided to make the trip on his old Firebolt, in memory of the good old days. He had a shiny new broom, but the Firebolt, Sirius's present, was still his favourite.

After several minutes flying over the green fields and forests of Scotland - it was the end of Spring - Harry saw the outline of the high mountain at whose summit the castle, with its many turrets and towers, used to perch. The black lake still bathed its base, but only scattered stones remained at its top.

Harry passed over what used to be the tall stone pillars of the gates of Hogwarts, the winged boars that once flanked them had now fallen to the ground and had broken into pieces.

Soaring over the black lawns, he saw the Whomping Willow to his right, still proudly spreading its branches in every direction. It felt like meeting an old friend again.

The Forbidden Forest was still there, just like it had always been, thick and impenetrable.

Harry felt his heart sink as he saw the empty place where Hagrid's hut had once been. His good friend had been one of the first casualties of the war. He planned to go there later, but first he wanted to walk through the ruins of the Castle.

Looking down, he saw only scattered stones. Harry pointed his Firebolt towards the ground and landed.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing besides shattered stones. Harry set his broom against a block of black stone. This was where the Entrance Hall had been. At his right, the Great Hall, with the four house tables. At his left, the ground floor classrooms. In front of him, the staircases leading up to the first floor, and down to the first dungeon level, the kitchens and Hufflepuff Common Room.

At his feet, Harry saw a piece of one of the two armour suits that had guarded the oak front doors. He bent to grab the fragment. When he stood up, holding it in his hands, he felt a presence behind him, and instinctively took out his wand, ready to turn around.

"Mr Potter."

Harry nearly fainted in shock. But when he turned and recognised the slender and gloomy figure of his former Potions master, in his sombre black robes, his heart began to beat wildly.

"Snape!"

Harry had the sudden impulse to hug him, but no, that was Snape. He would probably hex him if Harry tried to touch him.

"To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your visit?" Snape asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Nice to see you again, Professor," said Harry, lowering his wand.

"I'm not your professor any more. Not every misfortune is eternal." Snape sounded annoyed, but also expectant, perhaps even nervous.

"Er... What do you mean, 'visit'? Unless I've become a Muggle and can't see the Castle any more, this is only a heap of ruins!"

"You are jumping to rash conclusions, as always, Potter."

"Why are you saying that?"

Snape seemed hesitant. Then he spun around in his trademark swirl of robes. Flicking his wand, Snape murmured a few words, in a low tone. Harry approached, and saw a hole opening in the ground in front of him.

"The staircase... to the dungeons!" Harry looked at his former teacher. "Do you live down there?"

Snape started to go downstairs.

"Follow me." A few steps down, he turned around. "Bring your broom with you. As the place is no longer inhabited, a few creatures of the Forest are beginning to venture in here. It's not safe."

Harry went back to fetch his Firebolt and then followed Snape down the stairs. The darkness was almost total.

"Lumos!" said Severus, still in the staircase, and the tip of his wand lit up.

Harry. It was hard to believe that Harry could be there. It was hard to believe that anyone could be there. Snape had been living on the Castle's site since the end of the war, a year ago, and nobody else had gone there. Except Dobby, of course. But Dobby was a house-elf, not a human being.

Not that Severus preferred human beings.

Harry. How dared he come back, after... But no. He hadn't come back to see him. He hadn't even known Severus lived there. Severus told himself he needed to calm down and keep control.

When he arrived at the foot of the staircase, he turned around. Harry was looking astonished. The Bloody Baron had just passed by them.

"Come, Potter. Don't tell me you are afraid of ghosts."

Harry was gaping at him. Severus led him through the corridors, opening the doors one by one so that Harry could see inside the rooms. When Severus arrived in front of the hidden door, he stopped and said, "Noble Purpose!"

The door opened. Severus held it and made a subtle gesture with his head for Harry to enter.

It was the Slytherin Common Room, with its low ceiling and greenish torchlight.

"But... everything is intact!" Harry exclaimed.

"The same freezing, cavernous rooms, you mean."

"Oh, I don't mind. For the first time since I returned to Britain I feel at home."

Severus widened his eyes at his former student - who had become a rather attractive man, by the way. He hadn't become taller since the last time they had seen each other, but his muscles were now well defined, and he had developed a tan. Of all the absurd things Harry Potter could have said, that was the most unexpected: to call the dungeons and especially the Slytherin Common Room home! "I'll take you to my office, Potter."

Harry smiled, and something flared inside Severus. How disturbing. Just a few minutes near Harry Potter and his feelings were already in turmoil. Surely that was due to the fact that he had been living alone for a long time.

Severus opened his office door and, once again, stepped to the side to let Harry enter.

Harry seemed to marvel at the same jars that once had made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. He must be hopelessly insane. There couldn't be another explanation. He seemed happy now, unlike a few minutes ago, when Severus had sighted him from a distance, walking through the ruins of the Castle, looking so sad that Severus had surrendered to the impulse to go and talk to him.

"I'm so happy the dungeons have survived!"

"Have a seat," said Severus, leading Harry to a more intimate area near the fireplace and pointing him to the sofa. "I don't have pumpkin juice here. Would you like a drink?"

Harry sat down. "How can you live here? Where do you get your food?"

"I will answer your questions later, as soon as I can serve a drink. I believe I still have a bottle of Ogden's Old..."

"Oh, I'd love to have a glass of Ogden's Old."

A year ago, he wouldn't have been allowed to give Harry a glass of Firewhisky. Did the young man know how to drink? Just in case, Severus would serve it with toast. Toast and... kipper paste. He opened his cupboard and took out what he needed. He poured the Firewhisky, conjured an ice cube in each glass, put everything on a tray and carried it to an old table beside the sofa where Harry was seated.

His glass in his hands, Severus sat in an armchair facing Harry and sipped his Firewhisky, feeling the drink going down his throat and warming him inside. "So, what brings you to this waste land? To this place that holds no interest for the Wizarding World?" Severus asked bitterly.

Harry ran a hand through his hair - which was still unruly, though longer and... silkier. "I don't know... Everything changed so much after the war. I spent a month in Hogsmeade and I couldn't... I couldn't fit in."

Severus shook his glass. "The world we lived in is gone. Now we are in a process of fusion with the Muggles. A sad irony, to think I risked my life for this."

Harry sighed, his face acquiring a pained look. "We had to fight, didn't we? If Voldemort..."

"I know," said Severus impatiently. "I'm not questioning that. However, the result is what we are seeing today. Unfortunately."

"The war did this to us. There wasn't another alternative, I know. But it was too painful, and changed every one of us."

"And not everybody could travel the world to forget their pain," Severus snapped.

Harry frowned and banged his glass on the table. "For a while I forgot who I was talking to. You still hate me, don't you? You've always hated me. Even when you're fighting by my side."

Severus felt his blood boil in his veins. "Don't be pretentious. The world doesn't revolve around you."

Harry stood up. "You always told me that, and for no reason at all. You're still very wrong about me, Snape. I should go now. I shouldn't have come. But it was nice to see that..." Harry's voice cracked.

Severus stood up, not knowing what to do. He didn't want Harry to go. He shouldn't have said what he had; he had let himself be swayed by something he thought he had overcome a long time ago. When Harry had gone away to Europe, something had broken inside Severus. He had been a fool, because, deep inside, he had expected Harry to go after him at the end of the war.

He regretted having betrayed himself by saying what he had just said, but he wasn't going to apologise. Severus held Harry by his shoulders. Harry still seemed so fragile, as if he could break in his hands. Even being the most powerful wizard in the world. "Sit down, Potter, don't be foolish." Severus thanked Merlin that Harry complied and sat down again. Harry was staring at him with a strange, hurt look. Severus summoned all his powers of dissimulation to hide how much he was troubled. Putting some distance between him and Harry, he sat in his armchair again. Their eyes met, and Severus grabbed his glass, holding it in front of him as a shield. "I took refuge here after the war. When everyone left, I returned. I had no other place to go, and expected the dungeons would survive: I cast very strong wards here, and what lies beneath the earth is harder to destroy. I wanted to stay away from all that pantomime of medals and celebrations the Ministry promoted. There wasn't anything to celebrate. Only destruction. The time went by, and I decided to stay here."

There was a crystalline sparkle in the green eyes that stared at him, but Severus didn't want Harry's pity.

"And how do you manage to survive..."

"I make potions for an Apothecary in Hogsmeade."

Understanding showed on Harry's face, to Severus's dismay. "Neville!"

"Yes, Longbottom."

Harry dared to smirk. "Oh, I understand. You must find it humiliating to depend on him, after all that..."

"Absolutely not. I'm very proud of my work. Longbottom wouldn't have prospered without my potions."

"I went to visit him. He didn't mention your name."

"I demanded absolute secrecy from him."

"And he still pisses his pants in fear of you."

Severus took a long sip, observing Harry attentively. "That house-elf you freed works for him."

"Dobby. I know!"

"He comes here to take the potions and bring me my payment."

"Do you ever leave this place?"

"Sometimes I have to go to Hogsmeade to buy potions ingredients, food and other items of daily use that I cannot produce here. But most of my food and ingredients come from the greenhouses and Hagrid's garden and hennery." Severus regretted having mentioned the giant's name, for Harry seemed to become even sadder.

The young wizard lowered his head, ran a hand through his hair and then lifted his eyes again. "Greenhouses? Haven't they been destroyed?"

"I've rebuilt them."

Harry nodded and took a sip of his Firewhisky. Then he took a toast. "And this kipper paste?"

"It came from Hogsmeade, naturally. The toasts too. I buy toast instead of bread, because it lasts longer."

Harry was staring at him. Severus began to feel uncomfortable. It had been a long time since he had talked to anyone. On his trips to Hogsmeade, he exchanged a few monosyllables with the clerks and cashiers, and that was all. After all this time, of all the people in the world, why did Harry have to be the first person to come and visit him?

Severus emptied his glass and stood up to fill both glasses. He needed the Firewhisky to feel safer. He had never learnt how to make small talk. Now, he felt he would need to do it, if - for a reason still more obscure - he wanted Harry to remain there longer. "How was your trip?"

"Oh... I saw a lot of interesting places. I went to the Netherlands, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Greece, and finally to Bulgaria. I felt very free and... lonely. Except in Bulgaria, where I stayed with Hermione and Viktor. Well, in a way, I was lonely even there."

Harry had more or less replied to the question Severus would never dare to ask him. A treacherous spark of hope flared inside Severus. He tried to crush it. Hopes had never done him any good. "So your friend Granger married Krum. A valorous boy. Have you visited Durmstrang?"

Yes, Harry had visited Durmstrang, and they talked about Granger's work as Charms teacher and Krum's as Quidditch instructor, and about the way the Dark Arts were taught there. Between glasses of Firewhisky and slices of toast, Harry told him he had been invited to teach there, and had declined. However, due to the recent developments in the British Wizarding World, this alternative had started to seem more appealing.

The Firewhisky was beginning to have an effect, and Severus caught himself devouring Harry with his eyes more than once. "You won't fit in at Durmstrang... They are deceptive and manipulative."

"Cunning and ambitious, like the Slytherins?"

"In a way, but the Slytherins have a stronger spirit of hierarchy and union. Ten points from Gryffindor for insulting my House."

Harry's crystalline laugh filled the room, and Severus felt the corners of his lips turning up, activating a few rusty muscles in an almost painful way.

"But cunning and ambition aren't flaws. I haven't insulted your House."

"Coming from a Gryffindor, it can only be an insult."

"Oh, I understand. You're still biased."

"More than the dungeons remains unchanged here."

But it was a lie. How could Severus have remained unchanged, if his whole world had crumbled? That was only a role he was playing to be able to talk to Harry. It was a role he knew by heart, so it was easy for him to play.

Harry was staring at him again. "I've missed this."

A searing heat spread through Severus. He couldn't let himself get caught that way. Perhaps if he summoned all the anger there was inside him he could overcome that moment. Then Harry would become angry too, and he would go, but that was what was going to happen, in the end, no matter what he did. However, when he most needed it, his anger deserted him. Severus stayed quiet and stared back at Harry.

"I think I should go. It's late." Harry looked at his watch. "Oh, damn, it's already nine o'clock! I lost track of the time."

As if waking up from a dream, but not completely, Severus finally reacted. "You can't fly at such late hours, and after all those glasses of Firewhisky. You are going to spend the night here." His own words surprised him, though. What was he doing, inviting Harry to spend the night in his chambers?

Harry sank on the sofa, looking sleepy. "If you don't mind..."

"There is a spare room in the dungeons, but it has been unused for around ten years; no teacher ever wanted to stay here. They find the place too cold and damp. That room is full of doxys and bundimuns. We would have to clean it first."

"Er... this sofa seems good enough."

Severus's heart raced. Should he offer... his bed to Harry? No, he shouldn't even think of those two words in the same sentence.

"If you prefer... Do you want to have supper?"

"Oh no, I drank too much. I think I'm going to sleep now, if you don't mind."

"I'll bring you some sheets."

Severus rose up and went to his bedroom. He opened the wardrobe, then one of its inner drawers. He produced two sheets and a pillowcase, and laid them on his bed. He pulled a fuzzy blue blanket and a pillow from an upper shelf. Then he tried to think what else Harry could need. A nightshirt. Severus couldn't believe what was happening. It must be a dream. He opened another drawer and sighed. All his nightshirts were grey and old. Oh, Harry would have to be content with what Severus had to give him. Severus wasn't going to charm a nightshirt to look different from what it really was. Determined, he opened another drawer and produced a red towel. Trying to brush aside the image of a naked Harry wrapped on it - because the next image could be even more dangerous - Severus grabbed the heap of bedding and walked back to his office.

Harry was standing in front of one of the shelves of jars, and turned to Severus as soon as he entered the office. Severus laid the heap of beddings on the sofa.

"There is a toilet just in front of you. Pull that bookcase aside; the toilet door is behind it."

"Right..."

"If you want to take a bath, however, you will have to go through my bedroom to reach it."

"N-no. Perhaps tomorrow morning, if you don't mind. Now what I truly want is to go to sleep."

"I brought you sheets and a blanket. The nightshirt is too long for you, but..."

Harry came near and touched Severus's shoulder. "It's okay. Thank you."

"I, er..." Severus could barely speak. Perhaps he shouldn't have drunk so much. He pulled away, walked to a shelf and picked a phial. He took two small glasses, filled them with water from a gargoyle on the wall and added a few drops of the liquid contained in the phial. Then he handed a glass to Harry. "Drink this and you won't have a hangover tomorrow."

Harry gave a crooked smile, took his glass and looked at its content suspiciously.

"It doesn't have any taste. Go ahead," Severus insisted, and emptied his own glass.

Finally, Harry drank it. Then Severus collected all the glasses and started to wash them.

"Do you want some help?" Harry asked.

"It's not necessary. Go to sleep."

Harry shrugged and went to the toilet, taking the nightshirt with him. A few minutes later, the toilet door opened a crack and Harry poked his head outside. "Er, do you have anything that I can transfigure into a toothbrush?

Severus pondered and looked at his worktable, where a few ingredients were scattered, waiting to be sorted and bottled. Harry's arrival had disturbed his routine. Among the ingredients, there were a few branches of aconite, with beautiful blue flowers. Severus picked a branch and took it to Harry.

Their eyes met and, for a moment, Severus thought that Harry was going to embrace him like that night, a year ago. But no. Severus woke up from his trance and pulled away. Harry shut the door.

Severus finished washing the last glass and took refuge in his bedroom.

~* ~* ~

Harry awakened feeling oddly well and comfortable. Snape's nightshirt and blankets... Oh, yes. He was in Snape's office. With Snape's nightshirt. That thought started to disturb his comfort: his cock was threatening to react to the situation in an utterly embarrassing way. No, he couldn't let it happen.

He got up and went to the toilet, where he found his toothbrush transformed again into a branch of aconite. Harry smiled remembering the scene: Snape had given him a flower - one of the more surreal sights imaginable. Was Snape hitting on him, by giving him a branch of beautiful... and poisonous... flowers? Snape was so indecipherable...

Harry knew he couldn't stay longer there. That feeling was beginning to wrap around his body and his soul like Devil's Snare. The more he tried to free himself, the more entwined he became. He had to do something, and now.

When Harry went out of the toilet, however, he found Snape setting the table for breakfast. Starving, Harry accepted the invitation and sat down at the table.

A fine Darjeeling, toast, butter, jam and cakes - not bad at all.

~* ~* ~

"Thanks for the breakfast, it was delicious. Now I think it's time to go. You must have work to do, and I don't want to disturb you."

Severus nodded and swallowed hard. Harry was leaving. His life would be dull and sombre again. He tried to convince himself that everything was going to be fine, because the Castle gave meaning and purpose to his life, but that lump in his throat wouldn't go away. Why couldn't he hate Potter?

"Er, are you all right?" Harry asked.

Harry, not Potter. He was Harry, and Severus wanted him. He had to do something to keep him there. "I was wondering if I should tell you or not."

"Tell me what?"

"Come with me." Severus led Harry through the dungeons corridors and then upstairs. Standing in front of the ruins, Severus stared intently into Harry's eyes. "I'm rebuilding the Castle. Look."

Severus saw surprise reflected in the younger wizard's eyes. It must be surprising, indeed, to see walls appearing where there were only scattered stones before.

"By Merlin's beard! What..."

"I put the Castle under Fidelius, and I'm rebuilding it."

"Alone?"

"Do you see anyone else here, Potter?"

"But you've gone nuts!" Severus only arched an eyebrow. Harry touched the Castle's walls, which were now as high as his stretched arms. He stroked the stones, emotion evident on his face. "Are you using only the old Castle stones?"

"So far, yes. Later I think I'll have to remove some stones from another ancient ruin and levitate them up here, because there aren't many undamaged blocks left. As you can see, however, the core of the walls is not made of solid stone, but of flint and gravel, added to a mortar that I prepare with the remnants of the Castle. These chains here hold the mortar in place. I prepare the mortar in those huge barrels over there."

"Madness!"

Severus shrugged. "'Without madness what is man? But a mere hearty beast, a postponed, procreating corpse?'"* Severus saw many emotions flicker across Harry's face, and was looking forward to hearing his decision. "Would you like to help me?"

Harry shook his head, at a loss. "You can't hide this from the Ministry. You have to ask their permission."

Severus snorted. "They won't give me permission. I am not a cherished figure in the eyes of the Ministry. To them, I will always be a former Death Eater. However, if you are willing to help me, we might gain support. After all, it's common knowledge that you are like a son to the Minister."

"I wouldn't be so sure. His real son... died because of me. Arthur Weasley is the last person I'd like to ask for a favour. Maybe you're right and we should keep this a secret."

We. A spark of hope flickered in Severus's spirit. "You are not to blame for Ron Weasley's death. You didn't know he would do what he did."

"Let's not talk about it, okay?"

Severus tried to read his expression. There was a lot of pain there, and Severus could recognise guilt when he saw it. But it was not the best moment to talk about that. "When the Castle is rebuilt, there will be little point in anyone objecting. With your support, we can hire competent teachers and at least a few parents will send their children to Hogwarts."

"But how long will it take, for two people to rebuild a huge Castle like this one?"

"Two wizards, Potter. Two of the most powerful wizards in the Wizarding World."

"Aren't we smug?" Harry joked. "How long?"

"About ten months."

"It's not a long time."

"So will you accept?"

"To work with you on the rebuilding of the Castle? But... I'd have to live here..."

"We can clean that dormitory in the dungeons I have mentioned before, or we can unblock the entrance to the dungeons where the Hufflepuff dormitories were located and restore them. But if you don't want to stay in any dungeons, we can find another place."

Harry looked contemplative. "I'll have to think about all that stuff. I don't want to make a hasty decision. I'm going back to my hotel. Since I don't have an owl, I'll have to find a way to send you a message letting you know what I decide."

A shadow of sadness passed over the younger wizard's features. Severus wondered if it was because of his owl, which had died in the war like almost all the other owls of the Castle. The boy was very fond of his snowy owl. Severus missed his owl too. Styx was a haughty eagle owl. She was discreet and very obedient. But now Severus didn't need an owl: the only person with whom he had any contact was Longbottom. The Floo was good enough to exchange a few words, and Dobby took care of the transport of objects. In spite of the Castle's destruction, most charms and wards that protected the site were still working. You still couldn't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds. "Very well, Potter. I will wait for your decision."