Severus Snape's dark eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene before him. It was yet another party to celebrate the momentous occasion, the defeat of Lord Voldemort and the end of the Second Wizarding War. The Burrow was abuzz with excitement, the air thick with the aroma of festive foods and the sound of joyous chatter.

What joy.

However, amidst the revelry, Severus noticed a figure sitting alone on a couch, seemingly disinterested in the celebrations around him, much like himself. It was none other than Harry Potter, the young man who had saved the wizarding world countless times.

"Mr. Potter," Severus addressed him, his tone laced with curiosity.

Harry's gaze lifted to meet Severus's, a look of surprise crossing his face. It was only a few weeks ago that Harry had rushed him to the hospital wing, after the vicious attack by Voldemort's serpent, Nagini.

"Sir," Harry replied, nodding in acknowledgement.

Severus couldn't help but wonder why Harry was sitting apart from the rest of the crowd. After all, he was the hero of the hour, the one who had vanquished the Dark Lord and saved countless lives. Shouldn't he be celebrating with the others?

"If you don't feel like joining in the celebration, why are you here?" Severus asked, genuinely curious.

Harry raised an eyebrow, studying Severus as he took a seat next to him on the couch, away from the throngs of people and gossip.

"I presume you were also coerced into attending then?" he said, his voice laced with bitterness. He mimicked the stern voice of Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress of Hogwarts, who had no doubt insisted that he attend this social gathering.

"It would do you good, Severus, to socialize with everyone," Severus said, imitating her. He rolled his eyes in frustration, clearly irritated by the suggestion.

Suppressing a chuckle, Harry couldn't resist smirking at the resemblance of the imitation. "It's somewhat like that," he confessed, struggling not to burst into laughter. "Although, it was Molly who cornered me."

Severus scoffed, "I despise these gatherings. A room full of giddy, drunken fools. It's intolerable." He looked around the crowded room, his eyes filled with contempt.

"I can agree with you on that, sir," Harry chuckled softly. "However, I find it entertaining to observe them from a distance."

Intrigued, Severus raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what do you observe?" he asked, curious to hear Harry's perspective.

Harry shrugged, "The usual things, really. People laughing and having a good time, others making fools of themselves. It's all rather entertaining." He leaned back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's like watching a comedy show, but in real life."

Leaning back in his seat as well, Severus's curiosity was piqued by Harry's observation. "And what about yourself, Mr. Potter? Why are you not joining in?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine interest.

Letting out a sigh, Harry's eyes darted around the crowded room nervously. "It's complicated. I just... don't feel like celebrating...," he said, his voice trailing off.

Severus studied Harry carefully, sensing that there was more to the young man's reluctance than just a lack of enthusiasm. "Is it because of recent events?" he probed gently, knowing full well the toll that the recent battle had on the teenager.

The young man's gaze seemed distant as he spoke softly, "It's difficult, you know? We lost so many..." His voice trailed off as memories flooded his mind.

Severus extended his hand, its touch gentle yet reassuring as it came to rest upon Harry's. The weight of the moment hung heavy between them, and they sat in silence, each lost in thought as they processed the enormity of Harry's statement. They had each endured a great deal in their lives, and the past few weeks had been especially trying.

Breaking the silence Severus voice was low and thoughtful. "You know, Mr. Potter, as different as we may seem, we share more similarities than you may realize."

Intrigued, Harry looked at the older man before him and listened intently as Severus spoke. "What do you mean?" Harry asked, his voice trembling slightly with emotion.

Lost in thought, Severus leaned further back on the couch and let out a long sigh. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought. "We've both been through our fair share of hardships," Severus said, his voice heavy with emotion. "We've both made mistakes. We've both lost people we cared about."

Harry nodded in agreement, his mind drifting back to the people he had lost over the years. There were so many: his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore...and all those lost in the war. The weight of their absence felt heavier than ever in that moment.

With a serious expression, Severus regarded Harry, "But what matters now is that we've both survived. We're still here, and we have the rest of our lives to live." He paused, then asked Harry a question. "Let me ask you something, Mr. Potter. Why did you fight so hard to save me? Someone who had treated you with such disdain for all these years?"

Averting his gaze from Severus Harry gave a small shrug. "People are not just one-dimensional, sir," he remarked. "I am sorry for what my father did to you and for all the suffering you endured as a spy. However, I also recognize that Dumbledore had faith in you and that there is more to you than what you show the world. That is why we are sitting here together now," Harry added, indicating the two of them on the couch.

After considering Harry's words, Severus spoke softly. "You're right, Mr. Potter. People are complex, and I know that I have not always been an easy person to understand or get along with. But it means a great deal to me that you, and others, were willing to fight for what was right, even if it meant standing up against me." Severus thought back sadly to Minerva firing spells at him in the Great Hall.

Harry looked back at Severus, a small smile on his face. "We were all fighting for the same thing, sir. We wanted to end the war, to stop Voldemort, to make the world safer. And we couldn't have done it without you."

Severus released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and gave a rare smile in response. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. That means more to me than you can know."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the partygoers as they danced and chatted. Harry then turned to his former professor, a sense of concern etched onto his face. "Professor, if it's not too personal, may I ask how you've been doing? After everything that happened - with the war and its aftermath - how have you been coping?"

Severus's expression grew serious once more. "It's been difficult, Mr. Potter. I won't deny that. It's been a struggle to find my place in this new world, I didn't expect to survive. You know I'm no longer your Professor, you may call me Severus if you wish."

Harry hesitated for a moment, testing out the sound of Severus's name. It was strange to say it after so many years of addressing him as 'Sir.' "Severus... you can call me Harry," he offered, a small smile on his face.

With a slight inclination of his head, Severus acknowledged Harry's offer with a small gesture, murmuring his name with an unfamiliar sound on his lips after so many years of bitter animosity between them. "Thank you, Harry," he said.

The man continued softly, "I've been talking with a mind healer and I admit it's been helping. Have you talked with anyone?"

Harry shifted in his seat, avoiding eye contact. "I don't think I could," he admitted softly. "It's hard to talk about everything that's happened, you know? I don't want to burden anyone with my problems."

Concerned Severus gave Harry's hand a gentle comforting squeeze. "You're not a burden, Harry. Mind healers are there to listen to people and not judge. They can help you sort through a lot of your feelings. If you want, I can give you my mind healer's information?"

Harry shook his head, continuing to look away and he removed his hand from Severus's.. "I'll think about it, Sir."

Severus let out a sigh, and was about to say something else when Ron interrupted, "Hey Harry, come on over here and meet some people!" Ron pulled Harry off the couch, and Severus noticed the lost look in Harry's eyes as he was taken away. He also couldn't help but notice the younger man's heavy limp and his dependence on his cane.

As the night wore on, more guests arrived and the party became livelier. Severus stayed in his seat, observing the festivities and occasionally engaging in brief nonsensical conversations with people who approached him, but mostly kept an eye on the teen that worried him.

Despite the distractions around him, his thoughts kept returning to Harry. He couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as he watched the younger man struggle to socialize and interact with others. It was clear that Harry was still carrying the weight of the war on his shoulders, and Severus wondered how much of it was physical and how much was emotional.

As the laughter and chatter of the party began to die down, Severus rose from the couch with a sigh. He made his way towards the fireplace, weaving his way through the remaining guests with a sense of quiet determination. As he exchanged goodbyes with the other partygoers, his mind was already racing, plotting and planning.

Brooding over the party throughout the night, it was no surprise that the next morning, Severus made his way through the castle corridors until he arrived at Minerva McGonagall's office. He knocked on the door and waited for her response. It took several minutes for her to answer, and when she did, she was donning a robe and appeared irritable. "It's five in the morning, Severus. Five in the morning. What couldn't wait until a more reasonable hour?"

Severus strode confidently into Minerva's cozy living room, taking no notice of the chill in the air emanating from his host. Ignoring her moods was a skill he had honed over the years, so he pushed past her with a sense of purpose, making himself comfortable on the couch.

He couldn't help but hear her mutter behind him, "Sure, make yourself at home," but he knew that despite her initial annoyance, she would come around eventually.

As expected, Minerva soon joined him on the couch, summoning a house elf for some very strong coffee. The aroma filled the room, and for a moment, Severus felt himself relax. He savored the rich, bitter taste of the coffee as he gazed at the austere woman beside him.

"What brings you here so early, Severus?" Minerva asked, her voice laced with a hint of impatience.

Severus took another sip of his coffee before replying, his tone deadpan as always. "I needed to speak with you."

Minerva snorted and shook her head. "I gathered that. What about?"

Severus let out a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. "Has Harry accepted the teaching position here?"

The stern woman raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Harry, now is it? Care to inform me when that happened?" she teased, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Continuing on despite her teasing, Severus stated firmly, "He needs to accept the position," pausing briefly to lock eyes with the woman sitting next to him on the couch. "Minerva, he is lost."

Minerva placed a hand on Severu's shoulder. "I know," she said softly. "I've been talking to Molly and Arthur. They're worried about him too. They were glad when he moved into the Burrow after everything, but he hasn't really talked to anyone. They had hoped he would open up to them."

Severus let out a heavy sigh and leaned forward, his head in his hands. Minerva could see the worry etched on his face, and she moved her hand from his shoulder to his back, rubbing gently. "Are you alright, Severus?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

The man nodded, but stayed in his position. "I apologize, I became a little dizzy."

Minerva looked at Severus with concern etched on her face. She removed her hand from his back, but not before giving him a comforting pat. "Don't worry, Severus. I'll be right back," she said in a soothing voice before making her way towards the floo. He could hear her whispering softly to someone through the floo and then the sound of the flames roaring to life as someone stepped through.

Suddenly, he felt a gentle hand on his forehead, urging him to sit up. Another hand rested on his chest, sending warm and calming magic through his body. The magic worked wonders, making all his aching joints relax. Severus closed his eyes, feeling as if he was being enveloped in a soothing cocoon that was lulling him to sleep. He could faintly hear the healer comment that he must not have slept in a while, which made him realize just how exhausted he was.

As Severus slowly drifted off into slumber, he felt a pair of gentle hands carefully lower him onto the plush cushions of the couch. A soft pillow was tenderly slipped under his head, cradling it in the perfect position for rest. The calming presence of the healer filled the room, and Severus let out a faint, contented sigh as he surrendered to the healing power of sleep.

Healer Steven Cooper watched over him for a moment longer, making sure that he was indeed sound asleep before gently covering him with a warm blanket. Only then did he turn his attention to Minerva, his expression serious and concerned.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked in a low voice, gesturing towards the door.

Without a word, Minerva rose from her chair and led him to her private office, closing the door behind them with a soft click. She settled herself into her favorite armchair, her eyes never leaving the healer's face as he took a seat across from her.

Tentatively Minerva asked the healer, "Is he alright?"

Smiling Steven nodded. "He is and I won't go into details, but he it appears he hasn't slept in a few days and some worry he has over something sent him over the edge. Do you know what that could be?

Minerva sighed. "Harry," she said. "He hasn't been coping well after the war. He came to me to talk about him, and if he asked if he had taken the position I had offered."

The healer nodded, but sighed. "That makes sense." He indicated to Minerva's state of dress. "I know it's early, why don't you get ready for the day and if you don't mind I'll sit with Severus until he wakes?"

With a blush, Minerva responded, "I wasn't prepared for visitors at this early hour, but I agree. I do have a favor to ask, though."

"Severus is right to worry about Harry," the woman said. "I am quite worried about him as well." Steven nodded, signaling for her to continue. "On another topic, Poppy is taking some extra healing training in the beginning of the term. Could you assist her with the staff physicals?"

Nodding the healer reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, I would be happy to help. I will approach Harry to see if we can speak, it's not uncommon after a war for people to suffer PTSD, and Harry has been at the center of everything for far too long."

"It's not just his PTSD, although I am certain he has it. His leg also concerns me. Poppy suggested that he seek an expert, but he has yet to do so." Minerva took a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes.

Steven squeezed her hand gently and reassured her, "Don't worry, Minerva. I'll do what I can when the time comes."

Minerva sighed in relief and he removed his hand. She then got up and started to walk to her bed chambers. Before she reached her room though Steven could hear her mutter, "now just to convince the stubborn boy."

As Steven settled into the chair beside Severus, he couldn't help but reflect on how complex the man was. Severus Snape was a former Death Eater turned double agent for the Order of Phoenix, and had been instrumental in the downfall of Voldemort. Despite his contributions to the war effort, Severus had always been a solitary figure, keeping his past and pain hidden from everyone.

Healer Cooper had always been known for his discretion and sensitivity when dealing with his patients. So when Severus Snape had reached out to him for help, he was both surprised and honored. It was rare for the reclusive man to let anyone into his private life, let alone seek help. But Cooper knew that beneath the cold, reserved exterior lay a man burdened by the weight of his past.

Over the past few weeks, Steven had been working with Severus to address his mental and emotional wounds, but progress had been slow. The man resisted every step of the way, as if determined to carry the weight of his troubles alone. The healer hoped that Severus would eventually start to open up to him, to let go of his guard and allow himself to heal.

From the little that Severus had let slip, Steven could tell that he had gone through much in his life. The trauma of his spying duties had caused deep emotional scars, and the healer surmised that if Severus had not been such a master occultist, he would have been driven insane long ago. The healer silently wished for Severus to trust him enough to share more, to finally unburden himself of the weight he carried.

Lost in thought, Steven sighed and pulled a book out of his bag, hoping to distract himself from the weight of Severus's troubles. Meanwhile, the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, had already started her day's work, determined to rebuild the school that had suffered so much damage from the battle. It was not an easy task, and she worked tirelessly to have the majority of the repairs completed before the start of the next school year.

Finally lunch rolled around and Minerva took the liberty to order food for both her and Steven. She took the tray and walked into her living room with a sad look at Severus on her couch. He had been so strong for so long, she wished he would retire and just work on making sure he had a happy life, but knew he never would. He would be returning to his previous position of potions master this coming year, he had never wanted to be headmaster, he had never wanted any of the past few years to happen. None of them had.

Minerva and the healer sat in silence, their forks clinking against their plates as they ate their meal. It was a heavy atmosphere, filled with unspoken worries and concerns. But finally, Minerva broke the silence.

"I firecalled Molly and Arthur this morning," she said, her eyes fixed on the healer. "I'm going to go over this afternoon and try to convince Harry to take the position."

Steven's eyes never left the man on the couch in front of him, but he nodded in agreement. "I hope you are successful," he said softly.

They returned to their meal in silence, the only sound in the room the gentle tapping of silverware against porcelain. Suddenly, there was a stirring from the couch, and the healer immediately put his food aside and moved to sit on the edge of the couch. He placed a gentle hand on Severus's shoulder, whispering softly to let him know that he was not alone in the room. The last thing he wanted was for Severus to panic when he woke up.

Severus slowly regained consciousness, feeling groggy and disoriented. As his unfocused eyes fluttered open, he found himself face to face with the gentle smile of Steven, who was sitting on the side of the couch.

"How are you feeling now?" the healer asked with genuine concern.

Severus struggled to piece together his surroundings and the events leading up to his current state. It took him a moment to remember where he was and what had happened. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he hastily covered his face with his hand.

"She shouldn't have called you," he muttered, feeling ashamed and vulnerable.

With a gentle touch, Steven leaned forward, carefully prying Severus's hand away from his face, revealing his flushed and feverish cheeks. His concerned gaze softened as he spoke kindly, "Nonsense," he said kindly, "that's what I am here for. I am here for you whenever you need me. Now can you answer my question? How are you feeling?"

As Severus was helped into a sitting position, the healer deftly arranged pillows behind his back, providing a comfortable support for his weakened body. Severus looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, shrugging his shoulders and avoiding Steven's gaze, his eyes fixed on his lap.

Steven, sensing Severus's discomfort, let out a sympathetic sigh and conjured a crystal-clear glass of water, which he extended towards Severus. "Here, have some water," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "Take your time, and when you're ready, please tell me how you're feeling."

Severus slowly lifted the glass of water to his lips, taking small sips to quench his parched throat. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. His eyes finally met those of the kind healer sitting before him.

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice raspy and tired. "I'm still tired. How is Harry?"

With a gentle smile, Steven responded to Severus's concern, sensing the worry in his voice. "Let's shift our focus to you for a moment, Severus," he spoke softly. "How long has it been since you last slept?"

With a downward gaze, Severus's fixated on the glass of water still clutched in his hand. Frustration furrowed his brow as he struggled to find the right words. "I've been having nightmares," he finally admitted, barely above a whisper. "I haven't slept well since I left the hospital wing."

Comfortingly, Steven leaned forward and placed a hand on Severus's knee. "Thank you for telling me, Severus," he said warmly. "I can prescribe some potions that may help you rest for a short while, but they can be addictive, so that's just a short-term solution. It would be best to address the root cause of your nightmares. Talking about what you dream about can help."

With a defeated sigh, Severus slumped his shoulders and fidgeted with the glass in his hands, tracing the condensation with his fingertips. "I...I'm trying," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

The healer's heart went out to him as he saw the pain etched on his face. He reached out and placed a comforting hand over his own, feeling the chill of his skin despite the warmth of the room. "I know you are," he said softly, offering a reassuring smile. "We'll take this one step at a time, Severus. Can we start with the last nightmare you had?"

There was a hitch in Severus's breath, and for a moment, he appeared as though he might make a sudden departure from the room. His eyes flickered with fear and pain, and Steven knew he was treading on delicate ground. "I don't want you to have to hear what happened," he finally choked out, his voice strained.

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, Steven sought to comfort him. "You're always worrying about others, Severus," he said kindly. "Don't worry about me. You need to get this off your chest if you want to start healing."

Severus took a deep breath, his eyes closed as he tried to steady himself. "It was...a memory," he said slowly, his voice shaking slightly. "Of the night The Dark Lord put me under an imperious and made me kill a Muggle. I always tried to avoid when he captured people, but he seemed to realize so, so he made sure I was there."

The healer's expression softened, but he didn't interrupt. He waited patiently, letting Severus continue at his own pace.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the glass in his hand, Severus swallowed hard. "I remember every detail," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The way he taunted me, the way he made me feel like I had no choice. And then...then the way the Muggle looked at me before he died. He was so...so helpless."

As he spoke, the pain in his voice was almost palpable, and Steven's heart ached for him. "I'm so sorry, Severus," he said softly. "That must have been incredibly difficult for you."

Severus nodded, his eyes still closed. "I...I was helpless, I couldn't control my body. I didn't want to harm that innocent man. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I can still vividly see his eyes, pleading with me not to hurt him."

Steven leaned forward, his expression gentle but firm. "Severus, it's important that you know that what happened was not your fault," he said. "You were put in an impossible situation, and you did what you had to do to survive. You were a victim, just as much as that Muggle was."

Opening his eyes, Severus met the healer's gaze. "But I still did it," he said, his voice strained. "I still took a life."

Understandingly, Steven nodded. "Yes, you did," he said. "But that doesn't make you a bad person, Severus. You were forced into a terrible situation, and you did what you had to do to survive. You're not responsible for Voldemort's actions, and you're not responsible for the choices he made you make."

A weight lifted off Severus's chest as he spoke, the words tumbling out like a torrent of pent-up emotions. He couldn't bear to look at the healer, feeling ashamed and exposed. But to his surprise, the warm touch of the healer's hand remained on his, providing a comforting anchor.

Sensing Severus's distress, Steven sent soothing waves of magic through him to calm his racing thoughts. The healer's voice was gentle, understanding, and non-judgmental as he spoke, acknowledging the difficulty of the conversation they were having.

"I'm proud of you, Severus," the healer said softly. "It takes a lot of courage to open up about these things. I need you to remember, you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here to support you in any way I can. Severus. No matter what you're going through, you can always reach out to me. Our sessions at the clinic are important, but they're not the only times we can see each other. "

Severus nodded gratefully, silent tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He had been so lost and alone for so long, it was almost hard to believe that he had someone in his corner now. Sure Albus had been there and so had Minerva, but that was different. They were never truly there for just him.

"Thank you..."

As Steven ended his stream of calming magic, Severus felt a sense of clarity wash over him. He was hungry, he realized, his stomach growling in protest. But he felt too embarrassed to admit it, too ashamed to ask for help.

But to his surprise, Steven seemed to sense his need, summoning a house elf to bring them some food. Severus felt a surge of gratitude as he watched the steaming bowl of vegetable soup and thickly buttered bread appear on the coffee table.

The healer took the glass of water from Severus, replacing it with the soup. "Eat up, my friend," he said with a smile. "You need to take care of yourself if you're going to get through this."

Taking a spoonful of soup, Severus savored the warm and comforting flavor. As he ate, he couldn't help but wonder how Harry was doing. He had always felt a sense of responsibility towards the boy, even after all these years. He knew he had made mistakes in the past, but he wanted to make things right with Harry.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Severus asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The healer placed a warm hand on Severus's knee. "He'll be fine with some help, just like you Severus. Minerva is going to speak with him this afternoon, if you wanted to go with her?"

Steven gestured towards the bowl of soup that Severus had pushed aside, silently urging him to finish it. Severus, understanding the gesture, nodded and picked up his spoon, diving into the warm and comforting broth. Once he had polished it off, the healer deftly replaced it with the plate of freshly baked bread and butter.

As Severus savored the buttery goodness, Minerva bustled into the room, her arms full of paperwork and her face displaying a clear look of frustration. "Merlin's beard, I don't know how Albus managed to handle all this paperwork. The Ministry is going to be the death of me!"

Steven and Severus exchanged a knowing glance, the former stifling a chuckle while the latter let out a snort. Steven helped Severus to his feet, and as he rose, he couldn't help but notice how rumpled his robes had become. Hastily, he tried and failed to smooth them down.

"I know exactly how you feel," Severus muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. "I remember the paperwork well, I always felt like I was signing papers left and right for days."

Minerva's eyes roamed over the pile of papers on the table, her expression one of exhaustion. She let out a deep sigh, massaging her temples as if trying to ward off an impending headache. When she finally looked up, she saw Severus watching her with concern etched across his features.

"I'm glad to see you up and about, Severus," she said, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "That's definitely a good sign."

Severus nodded, relieved that she seemed to be in better spirits than before. "Thank you," he said, his voice hoarse from his earlier emotion.

"Speaking of which," Minerva continued, her tone brightening, "I'm heading to the Burrow to see Harry. Would you like to join me?"

Severus's eyes lit up at the mention of Harry's name. "I would like that very much," he replied, his voice stronger this time.

Minerva grinned, delighted at the prospect of having a companion for her trip. "Excellent," she said, setting her paperwork aside. "I could use the company, and maybe you can use your persuasive skills on him," she added, winking at Severus.

Severus smirked in response, knowing that he had a reputation for being a bit intimidating. "I'll do my best," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

As the healer gave Severus a reassuring pat on the arm and exchanged a knowing nod with Minerva, the latter couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over her. She had been worried sick about her dear friend's health and now, seeing him being taken care of by Steven eased her worry. Now if she could get Harry under his care too...

"I think I'll take my leave," the healer said, his voice warm and soothing. "If either of you needs me, you know where to find me." With that, he shot Severus a pointed look, as if silently urging him to take better care of himself, before gracefully disappearing into the fireplace.

Severus let out a deep sigh and looked down at his clothing, his usually stoic expression betraying a hint of teasing frustration. "I'm afraid I need to change my clothing," he muttered, casting a disdainful glance at the couch he had been lying on. "Your couch wrinkled my good robes."

Minerva couldn't help but chuckle softly at her friend's remark. Even in the midst of a health scare, Severus still managed to maintain his wit. She patted him gently on the back and offered him a reassuring smile.

"Of course, Severus," Minerva said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You go ahead and change. I'll wait for you to come back before leaving."

Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend's teasing, but he couldn't deny that her playful banter put him at ease. He quickly made his way out of her rooms, eager to freshen up and change his robes before their meeting with Harry.

Twenty minutes later, Severus returned to find Minerva waiting for him, a warm smile on her face. She gave him an approving nod, taking in his impeccable appearance, before leading him through the fireplace to the Burrow.

As Severus and Minerva stepped out of the fireplace into the Weasley's cozy sitting room, they were greeted by the sight of Arthur Weasley sitting on the couch, looking as if he had been waiting for them. A warm smile spread across his face as he spotted them, and he stood up to greet them with open arms.

Without hesitation, Arthur enveloped Minerva in a warm embrace, followed by a somewhat awkward hug with Severus. The Potions Master flinched slightly at the unexpected touch, his discomfort evident, but he allowed the older wizard to complete the hug before pulling away with a stiff nod.

"Harry is outside looking after the garden," Arthur said sadly, his eyes closing briefly his worry palpable "It seems to be the only place he feels at peace these days."

Severus nodded and looked out to where he knew the garden to be. "I'll go speak with him," he said firmly, his mind already racing with thoughts on how to approach the boy.

Minerva watched as Severus left the sitting room and patted Arthur on the shoulder. "Come now, we'll leave it to him. Why don't we go find Molly and have some coffee?"

Arthur nodded, grateful for her comforting touch. He couldn't help but glance after Snape's retreating form, worry lines creasing his forehead. But he knew better than to interfere. After all, he had seen the two speaking the night before.

As Severus stepped out of the door, he caught a glimpse of a young man standing in the garden. He leaned against the door frame, watching the boy intently, not wanting to startle him. Severus waited patiently, his eyes tracing the boy's every move, and limp, until he noticed his presence.

Severus was intrigued by the boy, who was the gardener of this magnificent oasis. He was awestruck by the sheer size of the garden, which seemed to stretch on for miles, and the meticulous care with which every plant and flower had been arranged. The garden was a sight to behold, with vibrant colors and fragrant blooms that filled the air with a sweet scent.

After what seemed like an eternity of tending to the garden, Harry finally looked up to find Severus watching him from the door. Startled, he hastily wiped the sweat from his brow and straightened up as much as he could while still leaning on his cane.

"Oh, uh...hi, Sir," Harry stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Remember, it's Severus now," he replied with a chuckle, beckoning Harry to join him in the nearby chair. He conjured a glass of ice cold water and handed it to Harry, who eagerly accepted it.

"You look hot, you should take more breaks," Severus said, concern etched on his face.

Harry nodded, grateful for the respite. "I lose track of time when I'm in the garden. It's so peaceful, and no one bugs me when I'm out here," he said with a smile, stealing a glance at Severus, wondering why he was here.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed Harry's apprehension. "Ah, sorry for disturbing you," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But you are right; it's rather peaceful out here."

Harry shifted uneasily in his seat, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I'm sorry for asking...Severus, but why are you here? Is something wrong?" he inquired, his words laced with concern. He didn't want to offend the man, but he couldn't help but wonder why he had decided to visit him today.

Severus conjured a crystal-clear glass of water, the liquid shimmering enticingly in the sunlight. He brought the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before answering. "Nothing is a matter," he assured Harry. "I just wanted to tag along with Minerva for a visit. She's inside talking with Molly and Arthur." A hint of amusement colored his voice as he added, "I believe she's come to talk you into the defense position."

Harry nodded slowly, still unsure of Snape's intentions. He twirled his glass of water absently, the ice cubes clinking together softly. "Oh," he murmured, glancing down at the glass. He wondered if this was some kind of test or if Snape was genuinely here for a casual visit.

Severus watched Harry closely, noting the young man's unease. He let out a small sigh, his gaze softening slightly. "Have you thought about taking the position?" he asked gently, hoping to put Harry at ease. He knew that the teen had a lot on his mind.

Harry's eyes darted up to meet Severus's gaze. He hesitated for a moment before responding. "I...I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of responsibility. And with everything that's been going on..." he trailed off, his thoughts drifting to all the people he had lost.

Severus nodded, his face full of compassion as he looked at Harry. He knew how much the war had affected the young wizard, as much if not more than it had him. "I understand your reservations Harry," he said softly. "But you don't have to hide out here."

Pausing for a moment, Severus spoke with a gentle tone, as if trying to calm a frightened creature. "Have you thought anymore about talking to a Mind Healer?" Severus thought about this morning and hesitantly added. "They can really help."

Harry's shoulders tensed slightly at the mention of a Mind Healer. "I don't know," he said, his voice barely audible. "It just feels like...like I'm admitting weakness or something." He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the glass in his hands.

Severus nodded slowly, his expression sympathetic. "It's not weakness, Harry," he said firmly. "It takes a great deal of strength to ask for help when you need it." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving Harry's face. "You've been through so much, more than most people will ever experience in their entire lives. It's okay to need some help processing it all."

Harry's eyes flickered with uncertainty, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, the door to the garden swung open. Minerva McGonagall stepped out, a warm smile on her face as she spotted the two of them sitting by the garden.

"Ah, there you two are," she said cheerfully, striding over to join them. "Severus, I hope you haven't been terrorizing poor Harry." She shot Severus a teasing grin, and he rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

Observing their banter, Harry couldn't help but smile. It was strange to see them so relaxed and joking with each other, considering everything that happened. But it was also oddly comforting.

Minerva turned to Harry, her expression serious now. "Harry, I hope you've been considering my offer," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "We need someone like you in the defense position, and I can arrange for you to complete your seventh year at your own pace if you so desire."

Harry took a deep breath, his mind still reeling from Severus's suggestion of seeking help from a Mind Healer. But Minerva's offer brought him back to the present. He had been thinking about it a lot since she first brought it up, but he still wasn't sure. Did he really want to go back to Hogwarts and face all those memories? And did he want to take on such a huge responsibility?

"I don't know, Professor," he said, his voice hesitant. "I mean, I appreciate the offer, but I don't know if I'm ready for all that. And I'm not sure I'm the right person for the job."

Just as Minerva was about to reply, Severus interjected with a hint of humor in his voice, "Harry, despite all the cauldrons you exploded, you remain one of the most gifted wizards I've ever had the honor of teaching." He continued gently, "I understand that you've been through a lot, but that doesn't mean you're not capable of taking on this opportunity. I firmly believe that you have the potential to be an exceptional defense professor."

Harry looked at Severus, surprised by the praise. He had always respected Severus, but they had never been close. And now, hearing him say those words, it meant more than he could express.

Minerva nodded in agreement. "Severus is right, Harry," she said. "You have a unique perspective on the Dark Arts, and you've faced Voldemort and defeated him. You're more than qualified."

As Harry heard the praise directed towards him, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the kind words, but rather that he simply wasn't used to being spoken about in such a positive light. Having grown up with the Dursleys, who had treated him with nothing but disdain and cruelty, Harry's self-confidence had taken a serious hit. For years, he had internalized their negativity and believed that he was worthless, undeserving of anyone's admiration or praise.

So, when people spoke highly of him, it was as if Harry was hearing a foreign language. He couldn't quite comprehend why anyone would see him in a positive light, let alone go out of their way to express their admiration for him. It was a stark contrast to the constant belittling he had experienced growing up, and he struggled to reconcile the two perspectives.

Severus noticed that Harry seemed lost in thought and decided to intervene. He reached over and placed a comforting hand on the teen's knee, hoping to snap him out of his reverie. As Harry looked up, Severus offered him a warm smile before speaking.

"I would be delighted to work alongside you, Harry," he said. "If nothing else, it would give me someone to complain to when the dunderheads inevitably manage to explode my cauldrons."

Minerva couldn't resist getting in on the fun and playfully swatted Severus on the head. "Hey now, I thought I was the one you complained to," she teased.

Harry couldn't help but smile again at their banter, feeling more at ease in their company. After a moment's hesitation, he finally nodded in agreement. "Okay, I'm in. But I have to admit, I'm going to need some help. And I don't think I'm quite ready to teach the sixth and seventh years just yet. It would feel too weird because I never completed seventh year."

Severus nodded in understanding and gave Harry's knee a reassuring squeeze. "Not a problem," he said. "If you help me in the lab brewing potions for the hospital wing, I'll take care of teaching those classes for you."

Minerva smiled approvingly at Severus's suggestion. "That sounds like a wonderful plan," she said. "And who knows, Harry, you might discover a talent for brewing potions that you never knew you had."

Harry chuckled at the thought. "I highly doubt that, but I'll give it a try," he said. "I just hope I don't end up causing any explosions."

Severus smirked. "Well, if you do, at least I'll have someone to share the blame with," he said.

A genuine and hearty laughter bubbled out of Harry's chest, a sound he hadn't heard in what felt like an eternity. Looking at his two professors, who had become his mentors and friends, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that they were here with him, alive and well.

With a tenderness that belied his reputation, Severus gave Harry's knee another reassuring squeeze before releasing it. "Why don't we head back to the castle together? You can take a look at your new rooms."

Harry nodded, grateful for the distraction and the prospect of a change of scenery. As he stood up, he couldn't help but wince as his leg protested the sudden movement. His reliance on the cane was a constant reminder of the toll the war had taken on him, and it was something he despised.

Seeing Harry's discomfort, Severus stepped in to help him through the cramps, while Minerva gave them space. It was a small gesture, but Harry was appreciative that they were not as overprotective as the Weasleys could sometimes be. He had grown weary of being excessively coddled by them.

Finally, with the help of Severus, Harry stood upright and as tall as he could manage. He leaned on his cane for support, feeling a twinge of frustration at his own physical limitations. But the warmth of Severus' hand on his shoulder and the kind look in his eyes reminded Harry that he was not alone.

"Thank you," he said, his voice laced with sincerity.

The trio made their way back inside the cozy Burrow, where Molly greeted them with a warm smile. She insisted that they come back for dinner, which they agreed to. Harry was grateful for the company. With most of the Weasley children having moved out, he had unfortunately become somewhat of the center of attention. However, having more people around would shift the focus away from him, and he welcomed the reprieve.

Severus and Minerva gracefully entered the Headmistress's office through the flickering green flames of the fireplace, with Harry trailing close behind. As he emerged on the other side, his leg gave out beneath him, and he stumbled forward, only to be caught by the sure hands of Severus.

"Easy now, Harry," Severus said in a soothing voice as he carefully helped Harry settle onto the plush rug in front of the fireplace.

Harry sighed in frustration, cursing his wounded leg. "I despise this blasted leg," he muttered, his tone laced with annoyance. "I can't even go through the floo without tumbling to the ground like an idiot. How do you expect me to tech like this?"

Severus placed a comforting hand on Harry's back, trying to ease his distress. "Harry, you mustn't be so hard on yourself. You suffered a severe injury, and it's natural that you need time to heal."

"But what about the practicals?" Harry exclaimed, his anxiety growing. "How can I demonstrate anything in my current state?"

Minerva, who had been observing the conversation, kneeled down in front of Harry, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Harry, I have been thinking. What if we ask a seventh year to assist you in the demonstrations until you're feeling better? It could be an excellent opportunity for them to learn and for you to rest and recover."

"Oh, I didn't think of that. But I don't know when or if I'll ever be better." Harry looked down at his leg that was betraying him.

Minerva placed a comforting hand on Harry's knee, her eyes filled with unwavering belief in his recovery. "You will be better, Harry," she said firmly. "It's just going to take time. Now, do you think you can stand?"

Harry nodded wearily, and Severus helped him to his feet. But as he stood, a deeper sigh escaped him, and he looked down to see blood seeping through the clothing over his hip. The wound had reopened, and Harry knew he needed to attend to it immediately.

"I need a moment to rebandage this," he said, his voice filled with apologies. "I'm sorry."

Severus and Minerva exchanged worried glances as Severus helped Harry limp over to a nearby chair and sit down. Severus kneeled beside him and gently moved away just enough of his clothing to expose the wound and began examining it, while Minerva conjured a fresh set of bandages.

Severus grimaced as he assessed the injury. "Did you seek another healer's opinion like Poppy suggested?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Harry avoided the concerned gaze of his former professor, his eyes downcast as he struggled to answer. Severus let out a heavy sigh. "Would you mind if Minerva fetched my personal healer now to take a look? He's very skilled and might have some ideas on how to help close this."

The young wizard continued to look away from the man, but gave a small nod of agreement. Minerva wasted no time, rushing to the fireplace to call Healer Cooper for the second time that day.

After a few minutes, Minerva withdrew her head from the floo, and the Healer emerged, wearing a friendly smile. He approached Harry and took Severus's place in front of the boy. "Hello Harry, I'm Healer Steven Cooper, but you can call me Steven. I understand you're experiencing some trouble with your hip. May I take a look at it?"

Reluctantly, Harry looked at the healer and nodded. Steven inspected the exposed wound and grimaced. It was worse than he had anticipated, it was a curse wound that likely wouldn't be easy to heal. However, he put on a cheerful expression and gave Harry's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll need to examine this more thoroughly, Harry. Shall we move to a more comfortable location where you can lie down?" He looked to Minerva for permission to use her couch, and she nodded in agreement.

Harry agreed as well, and Steven helped him to stand and walk out of Minerva's office and into her living quarters, where he lay on the same couch that Severus had used earlier in the day. Steven couldn't help but wonder if this was his new private office, and he stifled a chuckle.

While Harry rested, Minerva remained in her office to give him some privacy, and Severus followed Steven with the bandages conjured by Minerva and Steven's bag that contained other supplies. He watched as Steven helped Harry sit down on the couch and then lay on his uninjured side. Kindly, Steven covered Harry's lower half with a blanket and asked Severus to leave them alone for a while.

Severus reluctantly agreed, but before he left, he placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just call if you need anything. We'll go see your quarters soon, okay?"

Nursing his injured hip, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety as he sat there. However, his old professor gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Gratefully, Harry nodded, trying to convince himself that he would be okay.

Steven caught Severus's eye as he left the room. Severus's gaze was laden with a silent plea, begging Steven to do everything in his power to aid the young wizard.

Steven, however, seemed unperturbed. With a warm smile, he pulled up a chair beside Harry on the couch, keen to begin his examination. "I would like to look at your hip a little more thoroughly now," he said softly. "My magic is a little different from Madam Pomfrey's. I don't need to use my wand to diagnose your injury. I use my hands and wandless magic."

He paused for a moment, ensuring that Harry was following what he was saying before continuing, "I would like to move aside your robes and pants just enough to expose the wound, and then place my hand right next to it. That way, I can scan deep inside and see why this wound won't close. Is that alright with you, Harry?"

With a deep breath, Harry nodded, bracing himself for the healer's examination. Steven's hands were warm and gentle as he worked to remove Harry's robe and pulling down the top of Harry's pants, and soon Harry felt his hand rest next to the wound and a soothing warm sensation spreading through his body. It was as if Steven's magic was lulling him into a state of calm and relaxation.

As Steven concentrated his magical energy into his hands, he could feel the dark, malevolent force within Harry's wound. With every passing moment, it seemed to resist his efforts to cleanse it, as though it were a living, breathing entity with a will of its own. Yet Steven remained steadfast, his mind focused on the task at hand.

As he worked, he murmured soothing words to the teen, hoping to calm his racing heart and ease his pain. Harry lay still, his eyes closed, as though in a trance.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Steven withdrew his hand, his eyes weary but triumphant. He pulled up the blanket, covering Harry's hip up to protect his modesty, and gently shook his shoulder to bring him back to consciousness.

As Harry's eyes fluttered open, Steven smiled at him, kindness in his eyes. "It seems you were hit with a very dark curse, my boy," he said. "One that doesn't want to let this wound heal. But don't worry, we'll get it sorted out."

In amazement, Harry stared at the healer, unable to believe what he was hearing. He had given up because no matter what Madam Pomfrey had tried, she had not been able to heal him. "You really think you can heal it?" he asked.

With a firm nod and reassuring voice, Steven responded, "Removing the curse will take some time, and I want to make sure that we have all the necessary resources at our disposal before we attempt it. However, we don't want to wait too long, as the curse is causing damage with each passing day."

Concerned, Harry looked at him, "But how long will it take?"

Taking Harry's hand in his own, Steven replied, "I can't give you an exact time frame, my boy. It depends on the complexity and strength of the curse. But I promise you, we will work as quickly and as carefully as possible."

Relaxing a bit, Harry asked, "Okay, I understand. What's the plan then?"

Warmly, Steven smiled at him, "I will speak with Madam Pomfrey tonight and see if she can assist me with removing the curse possibly tomorrow. We will take all the necessary precautions and work together to ensure your safety. Once the curse is gone, we can begin the healing process with daily sessions over the course of a few weeks."

"And, will I still need a cane? Will I still limp?" he asked, his voice filled with hope and trepidation.

The healer, Steven, looked sadly at Harry and shrugged his shoulders. "I wish I could give you a definite answer, but I don't know. We'll have to take that slowly, it will depend on how much scar tissue is left after the curse is removed," he explained.

Harry felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. "Alright. I understand," he said, trying to keep his disappointment in check.

Steven smiled sympathetically at Harry as he began to prepare the potions and bandages. "Alright then, let's get you patched up for now and then I believe Severus said you have new quarters? Does that mean you're now a Professor here?" he asked.

Harry rolled his eyes, "They're pretty persistent," he said, referring to Severus and Minerva.

"I am well aware of how stubborn they both can be, but I'm glad you agreed. The Headmistresses asked me to help conduct the teachers' physicals this year," Steven said, casting a cautious glance at Harry.

"If there is anything you want to tell me before then please don't hesitate to do so," Steven said kindly, sensing Harry's unease.

Harry looked up at the healer in a panic. "Physical? I don't need one," he protested.

With a warm smile, Steven came over and placed the potions on the table before reassuring Harry, "It's nothing to be concerned about, each professor gets one at the beginning of the year. It just helps us make sure everyone is in tip-top shape."

"Maybe...maybe I need to not be a Professor," Harry said, looking away from the healer.

Steven raised an eyebrow, "Is everything okay, Harry? I'm sure you don't mean that over a little physical."

As Harry lay on the couch, Steven carefully tended to his wound, pouring a cleaning potion and antiseptic into it. Sensing that there was something more on Harry's mind, he gently encouraged him to open up. "You don't have to tell me anything, Harry, but talking about things can help. I promise that anything you say to me is confidential and won't be shared with anyone."

Taking a deep breath, Harry looked at Steven as he started to wrap the wound with padding and bandages. "I just don't like people seeing my scars," he confessed, looking away in embarrassment.

"You were in a war, Harry," Steven said softly. "Scars are understandable. You won't be judged for past injuries."

Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes. He could feel the weight of his secrets pressing down on him, threatening to crush him. Steven's words were kind, but they only made him feel more ashamed.

"Not those scars," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. "They happened before the war."

Steven paused, his eyes searching Harry's face for any sign of what he was about to reveal. When Harry didn't speak, he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"Whatever it is, Harry, you can trust me," Steven said. "You can tell me anything, and it won't leave this room."

Harry felt a lump form in his throat, and he struggled to find the words. He had kept this secret for so long, buried it deep within himself. But Steven's kind gaze gave him the courage to speak.

"It's just...my relatives, they hated magic," Harry said, his voice shaking. He didn't continue and Steven didn't push him. Sometimes letting just a little out at a time was all that people were able to do.

With gentle encouragement, Steven urged Harry to sit up and held out a vial of pain potion for him. "I know that many muggle-borns or half-bloods face challenges with their families. It can be difficult for some to understand magic and its place in the world."

Receiving the vial from the professor, Harry didn't immediately swallow it. He stared at the potion, lost in thought. "You don't understand, It wasn't just that they didn't understand magic," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They despised it. And they took it out on me."

As he saw the pain in Harry's eyes, Steven's heart ached. He placed a comforting hand on Harry's knee, a silent gesture of support. "I'm sorry, Harry. No one deserves to be treated that way. You deserved so much better."

Harry looked up at Steven, grateful for his words. He swallowed the pain potion and leaned back against the couch. "Thanks," he said, his voice soft. "For everything."

Steven smiled at him, a warm and reassuring expression. "Of course, Harry. I'll always be here for you. And if you ever feel like talking about what happened with your relatives, I'm here to listen."

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He knew that he couldn't keep his past a secret forever, and it felt good to have someone to confide in. "Thanks, Steven," he said again.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, Steven's hand still resting on Harry's knee. Then, Steven spoke up again. "How are you feeling now? Pain potion doing its job?"

Harry smiled, "Much better. I think I'm ready to see my new rooms."

Steven patted Harry's knee once more before getting up to fetch Severus and Minerva. "If you need me, just call for Brookside clinic and Healer Cooper through the floo. I'll come right away," he reassured Harry before leaving to retrieve the professors and return to his office.

Once Steven saw the nod from the teen he turned and went to retrieve the two professors and go back to his own office.

Harry watched as Severus and Minerva entered the room, their expressions a mix of concern and relief. "Harry, how are you feeling?" Minerva asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I'm okay," Harry replied, sitting up straighter. "Steven patched me up and gave me some pain potion."

"Good," Minerva said, her eyes scanning the room. "Now, let's go see your new rooms and then head back to the Burrow before Molly comes here looking for us."

Harry got to his feet, feeling a bit unsteady at first. But the pain potion was working its magic, and he soon felt more comfortable. Minerva led the way, with Harry following behind and Severus bringing up the rear.

As they walked through the corridors of the castle, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. It was strange to think that he was finally back at Hogwarts, after all that had happened. He had always thought that he would never see this place again.

Finally, they arrived at a large wooden door, which Minerva pushed open. "Here we are," she said, gesturing for Harry to step inside.

The main room was spacious and airy, with high ceilings and tall windows that let in plenty of sunlight. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes. In the corner of the room, there was a comfortable looking plush couch.

"It's beautiful," Harry breathed, taking it all in.

A warm smile spread across Minerva's face as she watched Harry's eyes light up at the sight of the expansive windows that lined his new room. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgement before playfully elbowing Severus, who stood beside her with a scowl etched onto his features. "Told you he would like the windows," she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

Severus rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, revealing that he too was pleased that Harry was happy with the space. "Ever the seeker," he muttered, his tone laced with good-natured sarcasm.

Turning her attention back to Harry, Minerva pointed towards the door on the right-hand side of the room. "Your office and classroom are through there," she explained. "Your bedroom is next to it, and the other room is your personal bathroom."

As the other professors filed into the room, Harry nodded his understanding and made his way towards the door that led to his bedroom. He pushed it open with a sense of anticipation, and his eyes widened in delight at the sight that greeted him. A large and comfortable bed draped in luxurious blue linens beckoned to him, and once again, the windows drew his attention with their stunning view of the castle's sprawling grounds. But this time, he noticed that they were fitted with thick curtains that he could draw closed when he needed to rest.

Minerva, approached him and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. "We were hoping you could move in sooner than later, so you can get settled before the term begins," she said kindly, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

Harry nodded appreciatively, his mind already racing with thoughts of the conversation he would have to have with the Weasley family. He couldn't help but feel anxious about how they would take the news of his leaving. He had a feeling that Molly would be particularly upset and that there would be tears involved.

As if reading his thoughts, Minerva continued, "I already spoke with Molly this morning. She shed all her tears and agreed to help you pack in the morning if you had agreed to take the position."

As he turned to his professors, his excitement dimmed slightly as he remembered the gravity of the situation. "So I could move in and then Healer Cooper could remove the curse in the afternoon?" he asked tentatively, hoping that everything would fall into place.

But Severus and Minerva's exchange of looks did not go unnoticed by Harry, and he felt a twinge of anxiety in his chest. "We don't know about the curse Harry. Are you alright?" Severus asked, his concern evident in his voice.

Harry nodded bravely, his determination shining through. "I will be. He said he can remove it," he said, his eyes shining with hope.

Feeling a sudden surge of shyness, Harry looked around his new place and then turned to his professors. "I can explain over dinner. Would you...would you mind flooing back to the Burrow without me and I'll join you after? I need a moment."

As they prepared to leave, Severus came up to Harry and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Of course, but if you don't come through in twenty minutes I'm coming back and looking for you. Understand?" he said, his voice firm yet caring.

Harry chuckled in response, feeling a sudden rush of affection for his professors. "I won't do anything stupid, I promise. I just need a moment alone."

With a nod and smile from Minerva, they both walked out into his living room and stepped through the floo, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

As they left him to settle in, Harry sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. He knew that he still had a lot of work to do, but for now, he was content to rest and let himself simply be. It was a feeling that he hadn't experienced in a long time, and he cherished it with all his heart.

Looking out the window at the castle's grounds, Harry felt a sense of hope stir within him. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had a future to look forward to, one that was filled with possibilities and promise. And as he closed his eyes, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. He was home.