Archive of Our Own

Harry strolled through City Hall Park. It was a tiny square of greenery with a fountain in the centre. City traffic surrounded the small park on three sides. He ran his hand across the stone of the fountain, just enjoying the bright warm day. Harry had completed his tasks already and was thankful he didn't have to be back at MACUSA before the following morning.

He had been in the States a month already, though it felt like less, and Hermione scheduled him for another. Her agreement to loan him out felt like a betrayal of their trust, all to aid her political agenda. Hermione was still a new Minister, and she reached out to other magical countries and their political heads, prompting a monthly meeting between leadership. Harry supported this idea and cheered her on.

President Quahog requested assistance in the retraining of various staff, and Hermione volunteered him to assist. The argument that followed was the worst of their friendship. Except for Official Business, he didn't speak to his best friend for a month.
It took Ginny to mend fences. She flooed into Godric's Hollow to explain how upset the children were and produced a letter from Lily as proof. Thinking back, he realised she staged that letter. His second Slytherin child had an uncanny ability to get what she wanted. Her heart-tugging methods only became clear once Harry, or Ginny, had given in.

Gin helped him pack, promised to check in on the house, and agreed to send him a memory of James' Quidditch game. Two weeks later it occurred to him, as Gin was keeping him company while he waited for the International Portkey to activate, what his youngest had done. His ex wife's eyes widened when he pointed it out, and their mutual grin was the last taste of home he'd had.

The States were nothing like Britain. The magical population, the sheer size of its borders, and bigger than those, the personalities of its residents, prompted a culture shock like no other. Harry arrived and they had presented him to each department he was to work with.

The teams brought Harry along on raids, introduced him to investigations, and he now had a firm grasp on the bureaucracy that overwhelmed him upon arrival. He spared a thought for his counterparts, having dealt with similar issues from Harry's, less than opulent, office.

Last he heard, the heads of the American DMLE, DOA, MID, and FBCV were all crammed into his office together, three additional desks taking up most of the room. Poor buggers. They had given Harry an unused space, three times the size he was used to, that was his for as long as he was DMLE to allow for future collaboration and visitation to the States. The view was breathtaking.

His leadership teams back home spent the first couple weeks sending owls asking for advice on their 'trainees', as they coined the American foursome. Frustrated with Harry's lack of sympathy, they gave the visitors red robes, split up during the day, and forced them to join quiz night at the pub.

Harry reached up, pulling his tie loose, and cast a discrete cooling charm. He made his way down the busy sidewalk when a discrete vibration came from his pocket. His four, four!, temporary assistants gifted him the device after their frustration hit a peak. He swiped across the glass, and a grin came across his face.
Harry turned around and retraced his path. He pushed into the lobby and spotted his team assembled off to the side.
"Good timing, Captain! Portkey triggers in two minutes," Jasmine called. "Tighten that tie. Wouldn't want the perps to claim we were sloppy in their arrest."

He grinned at her and did as she'd asked, then reached out and touched the newspaper the group held. Four more teams stood around them, and Harry looked them over to familiarise himself. The Portkey activated, pulled and dropped them in the middle of an empty warehouse.

"The target location is a shop-front on Corley Avenue, three blocks from here. We received confirmation of the target's location within the past quarter hour, and there are four targets within the location. We will enter the block from two sides, cast wards, then move in when given the signal," Glive reported.

"We want them alive," Harry ordered.

The team gave their acknowledgement, and Mulaney handed him a backpack she pulled from her pocket. He resized the object and wrapped the navy Auror robes around himself. The uniform here differed from back home. Muggle style suits with a blue robe over top, fastened at the waist.

This had been the first case he took here. A supply chain of Dark Arts dealers. If forced he would have to admit that he invested in this case to an unhealthy degree. The victim list was ever growing, but what tugged at his heart was a photograph of the youngest victim. Jessica Nyle. She was a young girl of thirteen that was a ringer for his daughter.

From that point on, Mulaney kept him apprised of every detail, and there were many evenings he came back to the office to pour over them.

The team moved out of the warehouse; he led the way down a side street, the town they had landed in was neither large nor industrialised, and his group took refuge behind pre set privacy wards across from the shop. Edwards and Marks raised their arms to begin the warding process. Once Edwards nodded, Harry's pocket chimed signalling their colleagues ward-completion on the other side of the building. He tested the warding and, once satisfied he gave the signal, a bright spark shooting into the air.

As one, the teams moved forward. The shop was dark when they burst through the door, and he felt the magic that gave away its true nature. He heard Mulaney's team make their way through the rear door. They were silent, but for a word or two of a spell slipping out. Harry had prepared for a battle, but there was no one in sight. Within minutes the two halves of the operation met at a small side-by-side stairwell, one set leading up, one down. Jasmine moved up the first step, and Harry brought his team down the long flight of stairs.

At the landing, he slipped down a long, dark corridor. The corridor was empty, no turn offs or doors, but for the single ordinary looking one at the end. His wand was aloft, pointed at their destination, giving off the only light in the area. Harry was sure to hold his left hand at the ready, to supplement his wand hand's speed. Once he was in front of the plain wooden doorway, two of his team members moved to his shoulders and began a series of revealing and anti-warding spells. The spellwork in this area was strong though not impossible to get through, and Harry waited in position for their results.

With a loud click the door fell open, and together the team flooded into a large basement-turned well-lit laboratory. The three men inside had their hands in a surrender position and were frozen. Harry gave a nod and pairs moved around him to each of the men, their hands being restrained in the magic-blocking cuffs that Harry was becoming fond of. He doused the light from his wand with a murmured, "Nox," and sent a line of glowing spheres from it to the corridor's ceiling.

An echo of rights were being stated to the criminals, and Harry finally took a moment to look at them. He froze and his mouth fell open at the sight of a pair of black eyes meeting his own.

"Cap, Report," Mulaney piped in.

He glanced to the side to find Jasmine standing at attention. When he looked back the eyes were studying him.

"Go, Mulaney."

Harry called upon every moment of training and experience to give her his full attention.

"We entered the upper level, it held four doors off of the main corridor. We cleared three. As we entered the fourth, there was a single perp. Her hands were in the air, her back to us. She gave no resistance and verbally acknowledged her rights. We have moved her to the stock-room, to await transport," Jasmine reported.

The woman was a consummate professional.

"Call the forensics team. Upon their arrival, send word to prepare four separate holding cells," Harry instructed.

Jasmine nodded her acknowledgement before leaving the room again. He shifted to face his team.

"Bring them upstairs to join their colleague in awaiting transport."

With their acknowledgement, he turned to follow Jasmine's path. Harry needed a few minutes before dealing with his not-so-dead hero.

⁂

The large, solid, metal door closed behind him. The bar-locks clanged as an Auror set them into place. Harry gazed at the man lounging on the simple cot, one foot planted on the floor.

“May I sit?” he asked and nodded at the single chair the cell held.

Snape’s jaw clenched, but he gave a curt nod. Harry sat.

“You’re alive. Yes, yes, I know, stating the obvious, but Professor—” he stopped and let a sigh escape him. “I laid you to rest in your tomb. I mourned you. I taught my children about you. Or what I thought was you.”

Harry tapped his boot on the grey-tiled floor.

“But now, Professor, we’re in a bit of a bind. A deceased decorated War-Hero of Britain has just been arrested by MACUSA for, among other things, the murder of an adolescent girl. What story do I tell?” he asked as he met Snape’s gaze again.

“If this is an interrogation, it’s a poor one, Potter,” Snape grumbled.

The voice was almost as shocking as the sight of the man was. It was as Harry had remembered.

“If this was an interrogation, Professor, we’d be in an interrogation room. There’d be recording charms, an observation team, and an almost unreasonably comfortable chair. This is me, speaking to you, before all of that happens. The Minister and her team are on route, and I haven’t even spoken your proper name since last night’s raid.”

Harry studied the dark eyes. It almost surprised him when he didn’t feel a push on his Occlumency barriers.

“Her?” The Professor questioned, and Harry broke into an amused smile.

“Guess,” Harry challenged.

The man swung his other leg off of the cot, pushing himself to sit up straighter.

“I am unaware as to how I did not anticipate that.”

“Twenty years in the States and that speech pattern of yours hasn’t changed a bit,” Harry said and then his grin faded. “Tell me I’m missing something. Tell me the evidence we have doesn’t truly point to you.”

“Would you believe me?” Snape asked.

“I spent seven years of my life believing the worst of you, only to learn I was so horrendously wrong it took me twice that long to come to terms with it,” Harry said. “I’d trust you if you told me the gates of Tartarus were the doorway to a pub.”

Snape raised an eyebrow.

“The evidence you have points to the group of three. Merrill is the murderer you are looking for, most likely,” Snape stated.

Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“Any act of murder committed by a member of an organisation is the responsibility of the entire organisation,” Harry stated. “How are you involved with them?”

Snape huffed a laugh.

“I buy ingredients from Waters,” he replied.

Harry stared at him, and Snape continued after a long moment.

“Ingredients that are difficult to obtain, and may not be strictly legal.”

Harry nodded and stood. He pulled a book from the wide pocket of his Auror robe and handed it to Snape.

“It’s all I had in my office. Say nothing, and I mean nothing. Not so much as a ‘no’, or a ‘thank you’, until you are in a room with both Hermione and myself. Both of us,” Harry instructed, and glanced about the small whitewashed room. “Do you need anything?”

He glanced back to Snape, who shook his head once. Harry turned to wrap at the door.

“Why are you in America, Potter?”

Harry half-turned back to the man. He smiled and rolled his eyes.

“The International Cooperation Agreement. You’re causing an ‘International Incident’, Professor.”

He grinned and turned back, allowing his knuckles to connect with the door.

⁂

"It's truly him?" Hermione asked for the thousandth time.

Harry pushed himself up to sit on the edge of his office's conference table. He glanced at Kingsley before looking back to his friend.

"Do you remember, Mione, when we snatched those bottles of Champagne at Malfoy's wedding? The four of us snuck off to the vineyard manager's office to avoid the entire show. We were more pissed than I remember ever getting since. Minerva walked in and gave us that look," Harry said and laughed.

"The one that made me feel like I was about to be given a week's detention, despite being in my twenties? Yes, I remember all too well," Hermione responded with a happy grin.
She leaned her hip against his desk, crossing her arms over her chest with a smile.

"Imagine that from a man who's cell you've just entered," Harry prompted and swung his leg a bit.

Kingsley's barking laugh pulled their smiles wider. He shook his head from the overstuffed chair he sat on. The fond expression on his face was new since his retirement.

"So when can we see him?" Kingsley asked.

Harry looked to the clock before he answered.

"Well, I sent for him to be brought here an hour ago now, so Merlin knows. The ball's rolling for his release into the custody of the Ministry, but the paperwork to process that is bloody mountainous. I need our lovely Minister to get into that meeting with Quahog. Luckily Mulaney has been able to get the evidential paperwork in order, but we'll still need a series of interviews, including a Veritaserum one, to be able to clear him."

He gripped the edge of the table and leaned back on his other arm.

"The departmental management is amazing here, but the interdepartmental communication leaves much to be desired. It's what I'm helping to clean up. The sheer time that's being wasted processing unnecessary paperwork is mad. I thought we were bad," Harry explained and grinned. "Remember the Floo registration backup disaster? That's every department here. From arrest to release, in the event charges aren't pushed, takes nearly two months. If there is to be a trial, it'll be a year. Three days and Snape's process is moving along quite well."

"So he has to be released into our custody?" Kingsley asked and tapped his knee in a rhythmic pattern.

"Yes. There's clear evidence of crimes committed. I can't make it disappear. The Ministry needs to accept the evidence, accept Snape's custody, and agree to charge him back home. Luckily that's where the commitment ends, and the President is already aware of the circumstances surrounding this. Once he's back all Hermione and I need to do is sign a piece of parchment, the same we used right after the war for Order members, and he's pardoned. The caveat is he won't be allowed to leave Britain for five years, if you remember?"

Kingsley let another laugh out.

"It's been only eight months since I was Minister, Harry, my memory's not that far gone."
There was a knock on the door and Harry waved a hand to open it. The dark-haired woman that walked in the room bowed her head to each of them.

"Minister Granger, Captain Potter, Mr Shacklebolt. The prisoner has arrived," Maisie announced, and she stepped aside, allowing the two Aurors to escort Snape into the room.

"Thank you. Dismissed," Harry stated.

He slid from the table and waited for the door to close behind the retreating trio, before he approached Snape. Harry held his hand out.

"Cuffs," he prompted.

Snape nodded once before he raised his bound hands. Harry reached underneath to steady the cuffs as he tapped them with his wand to release. The warm metal fell into his hand and he secured it to one of his belt hooks as he stepped away to give Snape space. Hermione had the opposite idea. The brunette had gripped his hands within seconds of Harry moving.

"Professor Snape, thank Merlin you're okay!"

Harry shared a smile with Kingsley at the uncomfortable expression on Snape's face. Hermione pulled back and wiped her eyes. She smoothed her robes and stepped back, gathering a paper tissue from the bin on his desk. Kingsley stood and shook the man's hand.

"Severus, you appear well."

"Much better than dead," Harry commented and pushed himself back up to his seat on the table.

"Kingsley, Minister Granger, Captain Potter," Snape greeted them.

Kingsley dropped back into his chair, an action he never would have made while Minister.

"Granger and Potter," Kingsley corrected

"Hermione and Harry," Harry countered and received a wink from Kingsley.

He turned his attention to Snape

"They insist on this Captain nonsense here. I've actual clothes for you in the bathroom over there," Harry said and gestured to a door off to the side. "Lunch should be in an hour, there's a menu on my desk. Just mark off what you'd like."

Snape moved to his desk. The suspicious look he'd had on his face since Harry was a firstie had yet to disappear. When he finished marking the page, it disappeared with a 'pop' and he gazed at the photo Harry kept on his desk. The dark eyes looked up, catching Harry's stare.

“Ginevra Weasley?” Snape asked.

Harry nodded. Gin wasn’t in that photo, just the children.

“The real trick is guessing their names. Our Harry’s truly an imagianitive sort,” Kingsley quipped from his seat.

“James, Lily, Sirius, Remus,” Snape drawled, and he moved around the desk to lean on the front with crossed arms.

“Theodore Remus is my oldest. James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna. Lil just started Hogwarts in September,” Harry explained and smiled at the memory of Kings Cross.

“You’ve cursed your children,” Snape said.

Hermione snorted and Harry smiled.

“Second names were mine, Gin chose the first. Though Remus and Tonks chose Teddy’s,” Harry paused, frowning. “Do you know?”

“What Harry’s attempting to ask—” Hermione began and shook her head at him. “Is if you are aware who survived the war and who didn’t.”

Snape looked to the side, through the ceiling to floor windows that lined half of Harry’s office.

“No. I transfigured a likeness of myself, made it to one of the Dark Lord’s safe houses, and was out of the country before first light. I heard the Dark Lord’s announcement before I Apparated from Hogsmeade. I lived as a muggle for years,” Snape replied.

Voldemort announcing Harry’s death, he realised. He watched dark eyes run along the beautiful view through the window, and Harry realised he was staring. Snape had changed little. He looked older, but not much more than he had back then. A wizard’s lifespan was a boon. Snape cleared his throat and turned his head to Hermione.

“When the Dark Mark scarred over, I was made away he was dead. I did not care to find out more, I assumed the worst,” he added.

Hermione nodded and gave a half-smile.

“Must have been a shock to see Harry,” she prompted.

Straight to the heart of it, that woman. Harry watched Snape’s jaw tighten before he bowed his head once.

“Er, I’m really difficult to kill,” Harry joked.

“No, Harry, you’re hard to keep dead,” Kingsley said as he stood from the chair.

Harry turned away from the man, eyeing the view himself. An assortment of people had scolded him repeatedly for joking about that day. George and Ginny laughed, at least.

“It was only for a little while Kings, let’s not go through this again,” Harry muttered.

His eyes strayed to the green of the park across the street. He couldn’t see the fountain from here. He tried to clear his head and turned to face Snape.

“Remus, Tonks, Fred, Hestia, and Daedalus from the Order. There were forty-five others. Forty-four,” he corrected.

“Teddy’s Remus and Tonks’s boy. He split his time between Andy’s and mine, until we lost her when Ted was two,” Harry spit out. “Is there anything you’d like to ask us?”

Snape shook his head.

“No.”

Hermione took that as her cue to explain the situation, they were to face. Harry slid off the table and made his way around his desk to pull folders together. He sat and marked off pages he would need signatures on. Harry tuned his brain into Hermione’s speech from time to time. Midway through, Maisie came in and put their lunches on the table. Harry mouthed a thank you, so not to interrupt the Minister. Maisie grinned as she walked out.

He was lucky, being allowed four wonderful assistants. Well, three were wonderful. One resented him, but he knew the stress of having a new supervisor. He was planning to petition Hermione for the position to exist back home, then he would try to convince Maisie to move to Britain. She was invaluable.

Lifting the stacks, he brought them to the conference table to eat while he sorted. Harry wasn’t exaggerating when he told his colleagues about the paperwork here. The room was quiet, and he glanced up to find the others looking at him.

“Yes? No?”

Hermione’s huff brought a grin to his face.

"Ginny's right, you never listen," Hermione shot.

Harry's grin grew.

"Gin's right, your voice is like 'white-noise with feeling'."

He caught the chip she threw at him and popped it into his mouth.

"What did you ask?"

"She asked, Potter, if they would force me to admit guilt in the States," Snape asked with his wet-dream-like voice.

Harry cleared his throat and floated the two stacks to the empty spaces in front of Hermione and Snape's plates.

"It's Harry, and no. The Ministry will be taking full responsibility for you, and that includes any admissions of guilt or lack of. Your slate here will stay clean. Those pages all require signatures, I've marked off the ones that need to be passed between you," he said and banished his plate with a wave of his hand.

Harry stood to unclasp his suit jacket. He shrugged it off and waved it to the hook by the door. The wall clock overhead caught his attention.

"Mione, don't forget your meeting in twenty. Your escort should be in the corridor already," Harry reminded.

"Oh, shoot!"

She placed the fountain pen, standard MACUSA issue, on top of her stack and stood. Kingsley rose next to her. Hermione grabbed one last chip from her plate before rushing to the door.

"We'll return here after," she threw over her shoulder.

He rolled his eyes, and a smile came to his face. He walked back to the desk to grab his journal. Harry turned back to find Snape's attention on him. He realised how familiar that was. He cleared his throat again.

"I have clearance to keep you here as long as I am. Unless, um, you wish to return to the holding cell. I know it's not ideal, but it's the best I could do," Harry said and gestured at the sofa along the wall with a box in front of it. "I had Mione bring those from my attic for you."

Snape's gaze was heavy, and Harry felt lighter when he looked to the box, and rose to inspect it.

"These are mine," Snape said.

"Um—" Harry started, and heat. "Yeah. I mean- yes."

He shook his head to clear it.

"Minerva and I—" he started again. "We sorted through your offices, your rooms, and Spinner's End together. Your books, other things of note, we kept most of it."

Harry ran fingers through his hair, gaze falling to the floor. He bit his lip before dropping against the desk behind him.

"Your wife takes no issue with you collecting the possessions of a dead man?" Snape asked as he leaned against the arm of the sofa.

"Ex wife. No, Gin takes no issue with anything really," Harry explained.

He smiled at Snape, thankful for the topic change.

"But for your marriage," Snape replied and smirked.

"Professor, all do respect, you know nothing of my marriage. I'll thank you to keep any negative comments on my family to yourself, they're not welcome here."

Harry pushed off the desk and walked back around it, sitting at his chair. He opened his diary, marking off the tasks he'd completed as yet.

"I apologise. You've grown," Snape murmured.

Harry lifted his gaze and lowered his pen.

"It happens, Professor," he replied and tilted his head. "It's been twenty years. That, a war, four children, a career. They grow you up."

"You named your child for me. Why?" Snape asked.

He had shown no emotion before this, but his eyes held something unknown in them now. Harry leaned against the back of his chair, considering his phrasing. Snape was a man that held words in great value, so misspeaking could change his opinion.

"Ginny and I gave our children names they could be proud of," he began and his lips pulled into a small smile. "Whether or not you'd agree. Professor—"

"Severus."

"Severus, then. You were, are, the bravest man I've ever known. I owe you everything, my life a dozen times over. More probably. We all do."

Harry broke the eye contact they'd maintained. Once again he felt as if it were too heavy. He looked up when he heard shuffling. Severus had sat on the couch and still watched him.

"You have glorified what I did," Snape said as he crossed his legs at the knee. "I did what I needed to, to repent for what I destroyed. In the end, I did not achieve even that. I sent you to your death."

"I spoke to my parents that night," Harry ventured. The dark eyes widened. "My parents, Remus, Sirius. They walked with me. Comforted me. They walked me through the forest to Voldemort's clearing. After I was hit with the Avada, I spoke to Dumbledore. He gave me the last piece of the puzzle to win."

Harry pulled himself up out of his chair, walking around his desk to lean against it.

"Dumbledore planned for my meeting with Death. You told me of it. My parents guided me to it. I chose it," Harry listed and grinned. "If that's what lives on your conscience, let it go Severus. Of all of us, you hold the least accountability in that. At least you told the Headmaster off about it. The rest of us went along without complaint."

"How dare you?" Snape demanded. He stood and stalked forward, sidestepping the sofa-table. "I orphaned you."

“Voldemort orphaned me. Dumbledore left me with monsters. You saved my life,” Harry replied, and his grin fell into a wry smile. “Though I’ll admit you were an arse about it, if that makes you feel better.”

“Through my actions your mother is dead,” Severus snarled.

The man had lost none of his intimidation, but he was right. Harry had grown up.

“Through your actions her son lived. There’s one thing Mysteries can agree on. Had Voldemort not given my mother the opportunity to step aside, I’d not have seen my second birthday. I suspect she may have been the only Muggle-born given that opportunity, as she was the only one advocated for by one of his followers,” Harry explained and searched the man’s face. “What do you think her choice would have been, Severus? Her life, or her child’s?”

“They cannot know that is how that worked,” Snape said, though some harshness left his voice.

“I can. In fact, hundreds of wizards bore witness to that phenomenon. When I stepped into that clearing, wand tucked away to remove temptation, and handed my life over,” Harry explained. He huffed and shook his head. “I sacrificed my own life to protect my world from him. The world that had taken me in and given me people who loved me. From that moment his spells became ineffective. His Cruciatus gave no pain, his silencing charms faded in moments. Don’t detract from my mother’s sacrifice, the long-lasting effects, to assuage your own guilt. Let it go, it’s not yours to keep anymore.”

Severus’s face grew stormy, yet all Harry could do was smile.

“Is that why you lived again?” Snape asked.

Like a dream, Harry’s smile faded.

“No,” he replied and straightened himself. “No, I chose that.”

Snape narrowed his eyes and asked, “What does that mean?”

“If you care to know, look,” Harry muttered. He tapped the side of his head. “It’s too much to say.”

He lowered his well built mental barriers, pulling his wand and holding it out to the man, handle first. Severus stepped forward and wrapped a hand around Harry’s outstretched wrist, lowering it and moving slightly closer.

“I do not need it.”

The black eyes looked into his own. Severus whispered, “Legillimens,” and Harry fell into memories of decades past.

⁂

As the life faded from Voldemort’s eyes, so did Snape’s presence in Harry’s mind. He had not only viewed Harry’s jaunt through the forest; he watched the entire evening.

Harry swayed on his feet, held steady by the firm grip on his wrist. His adrenaline still coursed through him. He’d not seen those events so clearly since they happened. They stood for a moment, gazes still locked and blinking.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again once he realised he had nothing to say.

The sound of shuffling papers caught them both by surprise, and Harry jumped and twirled his wand in his hand to face the correct direction. Snape dropped his wrist and spun around.
Harry’s gaze met Hermione’s as she glanced up at their movement. Kingsley was notably absent.

“Horror show, wasn’t it?” Hermione asked Severus, having guessed their actions.

Snape responded with a nod before he took up his previous position at the table. He lifted a pen to scrawl out his signature without another word. Harry stared at the back of his head until a knock at the door pulled his attention.

He opened the door with a twitch of his hand, and a wizard with black hair made his way in. Kahlil grinned as he handed over a stack of parchment.

“Letters, Captain,” Kahlil said as he took a grand bow and turned around to greet Hermione. “Minister Granger! A pleasure to see you once again!”

The second bow was grander. Hermione stood and shook his hand.

“Kahlil, it’s a pleasure,” she replied.

Harry looked down at his mail and pulled Minerva’s letter to the top of the pile.

“Kahlil Khan.”

Harry paused in unsealing the letter when there was a moment of silence. He cringed and looked up to see an outstretched hand meet a look of annoyance. He ducked his head back down and allowed his fair Minister to handle this.

Harry scanned the letter. He read through Minerva’s words again slowly to make sure he took in everything she had to say. He walked to his jacket, hanging by the door, and pulled out his mirror before he returned to sit in his chair. He propped the metal rimmed rectangle of glass against a book.

“Ginny.”

The mirror changed and showed a white ceiling. The view moved and wavered for a moment before a flash of scenery went by and he heard a voice yell, “Fuck.”

“Sorry Harry,” Ginny said as she fumbled the mirror again. She pulled it into a proper position, and he could see her face as she went on, “Damn it, sorry.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and pushing a strand of hair out of her face. Her self-mocking smile faded when she saw his face, “Who’s letter did you read?”

“Minerva’s,” he responded, and she nodded.

“Probably better than mine. Bran was able to Floo me before Minerva, otherwise the poor woman would have witnessed me lose my mind. They were supposed to be Fred and George. You and Ron. Merlin, James and Sirius. Instead—” she cut off and shook her head.

Harry’d somehow forgotten about his company, but he glanced up to see Hermione’s look of concern, and Snape’s frozen posture. He turned his attention back to Ginny, whose fingers had pinched the bridge of her delicate nose, and her eyes were closed.

“How bad?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and just looked at him for a moment. Ginny turned her head to the side and laughed. The hysteria reminded him a bit of Bellatrix.

“How bad? Remember when the Hall was empty, the wreckage? Somehow it’s worse. Every window, Harry, every bloody-fucking-window blown out. Every table broken, chairs and benches strewn. I charmed those windows myself, love, remember?” Ginny stressed.

Harry couldn’t help it, he grinned.

“Harry James Potter! It’s not funny!” she yelled.

“I know, Gin, I know,” he answered and held his hands up.

He gave his best effort to pull his expression into place. He was doing a fine job until Ginny cracked a smile and her own genuine laughter rang through the connection.

“What’s the damage?” Harry asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“They’re there now, along with fifteen of their closest friends, cleaning and repairing the Hall. After which, they will serve a month’s detention, another month added each time they look at each other incorrectly. I’ve banned fun this summer, Bran’s taken away the season tickets, Mum’s threatened to take meals at the school, and I promised them both you’ll be even meaner. Remember how the punishment of crime is under your jurisdiction? There are suggestions in my letter,” she said and grinned at him. “Is it too late to trade them for two more Teddy’s?”

“Much. Unfortunately. What’s Ted have to say?” Harry wondered.

“Oh, he laughed,” she drew out. “Laughed and laughed. Annoyingly deliberately did he let me know that he warned us. Asked who won.”

He opened his mouth.

“Lily. Lily won. Merlin, Harry,” Ginny spat out.

She widened her eyes at him, and Hermione’s laughter rang across the room to match his. Ginny sighed.

“I need to go transfer half of everything we’ve ever made to Hogwarts and buy Minerva a beautiful house in the country. Tell Hermione I’m voting for the other guy in the next election. Love you.”

“Love you.”

The mirror darkened, then reflected his own face back to him. Hermione was still chuckling while signing her name. He slumped in his chair.

“Jamie?” Hermione asked, and he could detect a smile in her voice.

“Not this time. He was taking bets. The other two had their house split directly down the middle, with the rest of the school egging them on,” Harry replied.

He sighed and stood from his chair.

“Gryffindor?” Snape asked.

Hermione looked up with a bright smile on her face.

“Oh no, Professor. Slytherin.”

⁂

Quahog had moved things along and Hermione would have to return in three days to retrieve Snape. They had given Harry clearance to allow Severus to leave MACUSA in his custody. He would need to return with Harry during the days, at least he didn’t have to sleep in that cell.

Two of his counterparts returned that evening, and that allowed for a reduction in Harry’s duties. The witches had both stopped by his office for a brief and to share a few jokes about their experiences.

Harry led Snape to the apparation point near City Hall, and he passed his fountain with a fond look. He looked to him for permission before he placed on Snape’s shoulder to Apparate them to the designated point in the penthouse of Harry’s hotel. Severus glanced around with wide eyes.

“The Ministry put you here?”

Harry snorted and shook his head.

“MACUSA put me here. They put their people in the Leaky,” Harry explained as he removed his suit jacket and banished it to his closet. “There’s a list by the phone, and directions for the Floo. Anything you want, they can get it for you.”

“Pays to be Harry Potter,” Severus mumbled as he shifted scattered knickknacks.

“Occasionally,” he replied off-hand.

Harry scratched out a note and tore it from the pad of Muggle paper. He placed his wand on the table and pulled his tie loose, opening the collar’s button. The tie came off as he made his way into his bedroom.

“Wand’s on the table,” he called over his shoulder.

He pulled the shirt loose from his trousers and unhooked the buttons.

“Accio,” he murmured, and a tee flew into his outstretched hand. He dug through the top drawer of the dresser and Severus’ voice sounded behind him.

“Are you an idiot?”

A sense of nostalgia overtook him and Harry grinned. He tossed his jeans on the dresser and turned around.

“You’ve told me as such a time or two,” he replied.

Harry leaned back against the furniture and crossed his arms and ankles.

“What sin could I have committed in the past two minutes?”

Severus’s eyes ran over him, and Harry noted that his jaw clenched again. It was the wand, he realised, and Snape was trying to keep himself in check.

“Come on, Severus. What is it?”

Snape glared further, focused and unmoving. Harry shook his head, grabbing his comfortable clothing and moved around him to get to the shower.

“I told you I trust you—”

Harry grunted as his arm was grabbed and pulled and the momentum spun him around. He realised Snape had struck like a viper.

“Bloody-fuck man. It’s just a wand.”

“It’s the Elder wand,” Severus growled, inches from his face.

Harry opened his mouth to deny it. The wand looked the same as the one he’d carried throughout his Hogwarts career. Snape shook his arm.

“Do. Not. Lie to me now.”

“Gonna kill me for it, Severus?” Harry asked, then shook his head. “I think not.”

Snape’s eyes seemed to sparkle.

“You do not know me, Harry. You know memories you have seen. Possibly journals. You do not know me at all,” Severus said with a voice that was darker than he’d heard before. “You know nothing.”

“I know you were willing to die to give me a chance. You ran only when I was dead. When you knew he was mortal, and I was gone, only then did you leave,” he replied.

He lifted his free hand to rest on Snapes’s shoulder.

“You’ll never convince me you’d hurt me.”

It was only after Severus fell to his knees taking Harry’s prick down to the root, and his hand was clasped in black hair, that Harry realised what that look he’d been seeing all day in the black eyes meant.

⁂

The pounding on the penthouse door had them both wide awake and upright in seconds. Harry tossed his wand to Snape and pulled on sleep trousers. He rushed to the door. He had a shield cast with his off-hand, while his wand hand opened the door with a wave. The witches that pushed their way through the door had Harry frozen and his mouth dropped open.

“It’s two in the morning!” he choked out and dismissed his shield.

“It’s seven in the morning in Britain. Where is he?” Minerva asked.

She spotted something over his shoulder, presumably her target, and her eyes grew wet. Poppy was similarly occupied, and Harry shook his head. He ignored the scolding Severus received, jotted down a refreshment order, then sent it through the Floo.

He made his way back into the bedroom, fell onto the bed, and promptly fell asleep.

⁂

The next time Harry woke when the courtesy alarm jingled over his head. The sun had risen, and he could vaguely hear the sounds of chatter from the proper. He shook his head as he grabbed the next suit in line from the closet, bringing it with him to the shower room.

He showered methodically, towelled off, and fixed his hair in the mirror, which was blessedly silent. Harry dressed and buttoned his shirt most of the way up before he exited the room. He shuffled into the bedroom room and his cologne sprayed itself into Harry’s face.

When he could finally breathe without choking, he waved a hand over his face to remove the excess. Two ties draped themselves over his neck as he moved about the room, and he spared them a brief glance before deciding to choose later.

He shuffled through the penthouse proper, sparing a glance at Minerva as she spotted him and declared, “Blue.”

Harry banished the red tie back where it came from and sent a pre-written note through the Floo. A cup of steaming coffee appeared on the island worktop, along with three newspapers. He gathered his bounty and moved out through the balcony doors. When he sat at the table, he let out a relieved sigh and pulled his socks on.

He unfolded the Prophet, read the headline, then banished the paper. Harry then opened up the Eagle. He may have chuckled at the paper’s name when he first arrived here, but he didn’t laugh long when he realised that, while biassed, it contained more news than he was accustomed to. Harry scanned through the articles. He sipped his coffee and enjoyed the moment of relaxation he made for himself once a day since he arrived.

As he finished his cup of coffee, a strong cup of tea appeared before him with a pen alongside. He smiled when he realised he had made it to the crossword and spared a moment of thought for the staff of the hotel.

Harry made it about half way through before he had to stand. He gathered the newspapers and walked inside. Harry only realised the witches had disappeared when he was snagging a pastie off of the abandoned table. He pulled his mobile device out at its buzz and was scanning a message from Maisie when he felt a hand pull at his shoulder.

“You should dress, we’ll be late,” he commented when he took in Snape’s overly casual attire, noting the clothing was his.

“Let’s be late.”

Harry grinned, sent off a message, and followed Severus as he made his way into the bedroom.

The meeting he’d had set for a week had to be pushed off until ten. He’d barely made it into his office, after Maisie shoved a paper cup into his hand, when the team members started streaming into the room. Snape set himself up on the couch, nose in one of his own books, and Harry fought to not glance in his direction.

Mulaney pushed a folded note to him at the end of the meeting, as the room cleared. She paused and bit her lip before she turned and rushed out. Harry read through, by now deciphering her awful handwriting easily. He scanned the note once more before he set the parchment on fire and banished its ashes. Harry frowned and stared out the window at the city view. He turned and sat at his desk, pulled open his diary and marked off random items.

“What did it say?” Severus asked, his tone even.

Harry didn’t look up, just continued his task.

“You know what it said.”

He tucked away the diary into its space in the top drawer.

“What are you going to do about it?”

Still even voiced, the man was a spy til the end.

“Absolutely nothing,” Harry said, and nodded to himself. He raised his eyes to meet Severus’s gaze. “Nothing changes. Officially.”

Severus nodded once, then returned to his book.

⁂

Two days later Harry watched as the Portkey pulled away Hermione, Minerva, and Severus amongst a storm of flashbulbs. Jasmine squeezed his shoulder.

“You owed him, I get it,” she whispered as her eyes darted around.

One month later, the day he arrived back in Britain, the Prophet broke the news.