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by Iva1201

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A/N: This is quite short – but hopefully you will not mind. Post-war one shot, AU for those who believe Severus Snape died in Shrieking Shack. I am still in denial. (-: You can consider this story a companion piece to my older fic "The Other Side."

Enjoy! (-:

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Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

August 1998

"Finally," Minerva McGonagall whispered, spotting the tall, slim figure closing and securing the gates of Hogwarts' grounds behind them from where she was standing, the window of the Head Office of the school. Her office now, despite she still considered it rather Albus's.

"He is back, Albus. I shall return as soon as I have spoken with him," she announced shortly, not waiting for an answer or even expecting any. They had discussed the matter earlier and were in agreement that if it was the young man's wish, he was free to go and live his life as he saw it fit. Despite them both, the staff and probably quite some students would miss him now that it was clear he had been on their side all along and had sacrificed much to bring Voldemort down. Much more than many others who used to accuse him of being a coward and a traitor – Minerva deeply regretting being one of them once…

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She found him still outside the Castle, on its grounds – uncharacteristically sitting on the lawn next to Albus's marble tomb, his back leaning on the cold stone of the grave. His eyes were fixed on the castle, their for once unguarded expression one of loss and longing.

"The Muggle clothes suit you well," Minerva remarked after a while she had spent simply standing next to him and viewing the grounds together with him in comfortable silence. The Headmistress was greatly relieved that he allowed her that – and was as forgiving as he proved to be. When the war had ended and she had learnt the truth, she had expected him to never speak to her again – and most certainly not to renew their bickering and much missed friendship.

The young man's lips twitched in a bitter smile. "Maybe I should have lived as Muggle my whole life. It would have made many things much easier."

She frowned a bit. This was not the way she wanted their conversation to go. "Perhaps. But you should not forget that many things could have turned out for worse, too. It has no sense to linger on things that could have been, you know that."

The strict tone she used reminded him of his school days and he gave a curt nod, opting not to argue with her.

"How did it go?" she asked after a moment, her voice much softer now.

"Very well, I suppose," the man said, but his tone did not match his words. "I can start on September 1. The only thing that needs to still be arranged is the contract – I am to decide until tomorrow if I want to work full-time or part-time for them."

"I see," she nodded, her face saddened. "Congratulations – I know how much you wished for this. I am very happy for you." And she indeed was, regretting only her own loss – not his success. Merlin knew he had earned a bit of luck in his life.

"Thank you, Minerva," he said. "I am relieved you are not upset by my decision. I know you have kept both the Potions and Defence posts open for me – and I really appreciate that. I shall miss brewing and even the foolish wand-waving a lot, but I believe this is for the better. The school will be better off without me."

They had discussed this earlier and sadly, she knew that after the last disastrous year when he had hold the post of the Headmaster, this was quite possibly the truth. The majority of the wizarding population would most likely not appreciate seeing him still as member of the faculty. Nevertheless, she would have liked for him to stay.

"I wish this was not the case," Minerva said after a while, frowning. He had not earned this. But then life was often not fair.

The man quite unexpectantly chuckled. "Minerva, be reasonable. I knew what I could expect. Quite honestly, my best estimation was much worse than this. I shall not mind to join a renowned British university and their Chemistry research department."

She nodded. "I know it could have ended very differently. I am still amazed you managed to survive at all. I am deeply thankful to Fawkes and the Malfoys for being there for you when the children completely forgot to return for you – or even tell us to retrieve your body."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Narcissa and Poppy told me it was a close thing – but I do not remember much from that night. I suppose it's better that way."

"It is," she agreed, with a shudder remembering the terrible sight of the pool of his drying blood on the floor of the Shrieking Shack on the morning after his supposed death.

"There is one thing I still cannot figure out," he interrupted her musings thoughtfully. "How were you able to find me so fast afterwards? Narcissa and Lucius both swear they had never contacted you. Neither did Draco."

She smiled now, glad that at least this did work out to the benefit of them all. "I believe it was one of Albus's side plans when he decided you would become his successor. The school has its ways to reach its Headmaster."

"I resigned," he frowned at her, confused.

"You did. But the school only ever considered your written resignation submitted to the Board of Governors," Minerva supplied the missing information.

"What a pity I didn't know," Snape pretended to regret. "I could have deduced quite some points for the reckless behaviour during the battle."

She smiled again. "I am going to miss you, you know," she said then, sincerity plain in her voice. "Hogwarts is not going to be the same without you." Trying to keep the mood light, she joked: "You could sign only a part-time contract with the research centre. We could use you here for the other half of your time. Horace wouldn't mind to teach part-time himself, should you decide for Potions. And I can always hire a new Defence Professor part-time myself, if that post is more appealing to you. Or, perhaps, since you seem to be a secret expert in that area too, I could offer you Charlotte's old position? You would be a great Muggle Studies teacher, I am sure…"

The man was no longer smiling. He rather seemed on verge of tears now. "Don't, Minerva. Please, do not remind me of this. You do not know how difficult it was for me to watch him killing her while she was pleading with me to help her, to save her. And I couldn't do anything at all. Not even tell her how sorry I was..." He trailed off, tears running freely down his still emaciated cheeks.

The Headmistress stared at him in shock. She hadn't known of this. Hadn't very likely been aware of many other things he had gone through – not being able to break down or shed even a single tear of regret or sorrow. It was only then that she understood his enormous sacrifice for them and their cause.

She dropped to the ground next to him, leaned her back on the cold marble of the white tomb, and gently pulled his shaking body into her arms. "I am very sorry. Please, forgive me," she whispered and embraced him more tightly, so that he knew he was no longer alone.

As the young man continued to cry and she ran her hand soothingly up and down his back, it occurred to her that he would be even more alone in the Muggle world. The people there would also not understand why he was moody on occasion – or overwhelmingly sad as just now. No, despite his upbringing in that world and his talent for Chemistry born out of his affinity to Potions, he didn't belong there – and she was a fool that she was allowing him to go.

She went on stroking his shaking shoulders and pondering what to do now. There must be a way to keep him here with people who knew him, would never again doubt him and would be able and willing to help him to get through this.

They didn't say anything until his tears ebbed and he pulled away from her. "I apologise, Minerva," he said, clearly a bit ashamed of himself. "Thank you."

"There is nothing to apologise for," she smiled softly. "If anyone should apologise, it would be me. I am sorry I brought it up."

She appraised him carefully. He seemed calm enough, so she decided to ask: "I have one last offer, this time a serious one. I do not care what the parents or the Board would say, but I have a House here that will be much despised this coming year and I need someone to keep them in line and protect them at the same time. Horace is not well suited for this job, I fear, and I do not have anyone else I would trust to to ask. Would you consider coming back just as the Head of Slytherin? You do not need to teach anything here and are free to spend as much of your time at the university as you wish – but consider living here and overseeing your former House, please."

He was quiet for a very long time, considering her offer and its implications. Then he abruptly nodded. "I can do that, I suppose. But do tell Horace you wanted to keep me close because you fear I would suffer under the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder rather than that you felt I was a better Head of House in the current situation. He would take it much better – and I too would appreciate we were truthful towards each other."

As ever he was able to read her well. But Minerva found out she didn't mind at all – her offer was after all meant to help him and if he was aware of it and wouldn't hesitate to ask for assistance should it be needed, the better.

"I shall do that," she promised, once more smiling. "Thank you."

He gave a nod. Mischief in his face, he added then: "And I wouldn't mind to substitute for whomever you would hire to teach Muggle Studies if needed. It would do the children well to realise that not all Slytherins are purebloods and that we are not necessarily ashamed of that. But please do not take me by surprise like this again. I need a little bit more time to come to terms with some things that happened during the war."

Minerva nodded. "I won't," she promised. Her face lit up with pleasure of having him back then and she whispered, not particularly caring if he heard her sentiment or not: "Welcome home, Severus."

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A/N: I am curious what you think. (-: