Harry sipped his tea and nibbled on a chocolate chip cookie, sitting opposite Severus, who had his own cup and cookies as well. The young Auror was still a bit shell shocked to find Snape so domesticated, a fact which his former teacher knew quite well and found highly amusing. "Really, Harry, who do you think did most of the cooking in my house during the summer?"

"Uh, didn't you have a house elf, like most wizard households?"

Severus shook his head. "No. I never liked the idea of binding another sentient creature into servitude for life, so I never bothered to acquire one. When I lived alone, before I knew about Arista, I hardly needed anyone to pick up after me, and I could cook well enough on my own. Later, when Arista came, I had her do all the household chores same as she used to at the Flynns, as a means of earning allowance." Severus's daughter had been hidden away as a baby to protect her from an evil dark witch her mother, a Dark Hunter, had been fighting. Amelia had died fighting Nightshade and Arista had remained hidden, her whereabouts unknown to anyone, even her father. She had been raised in America until her guardians had contacted her father, years later, and she had gone to live with him. "The only time I used house elves was at school, and even then I didn't ask them to do much for me except straighten my quarters once in awhile. Cleaning my classroom I saved for detention, as you know perfectly well."

"Merlin, do I ever!" Harry said ruefully.

"So why are you so surprised at my cooking now, Slayer of Voldemort?"

Harry grimaced at the title. "Please, Severus, don't call me that. I hate that bloody nickname."

"Oh? Why? Not exalted enough for you?"Snape demanded mockingly.

"No, it makes me sound like a-a comic book superhero and I really hate that image. I can't walk down the street without people staring at me, wanting my picture, my autograph, or something. Sometimes I think I ought to wear a bag over my head."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "You surprise me. I would have thought you enjoyed being a celebrity. Your father would have ate it up like a cat with a bowl of double cream."

"I'm not my father, Severus," Harry said sharply. "I don't like being in the damn spotlight. I never have. Only I've never been able to get out of it. Fame is overrated, as I'm sure you know, Slayer of Lucius," he shot back. "All I want now, all I've ever wanted, is to live quietly with Ginny and my family, and be a good Auror. I'm sick of being the front page headline, the bloody damn hero everyone points to as an example of goodness and light! I just want an ordinary life. Is that too much to ask?" he demanded angrily.

Severus was not all that surprised at the younger man's outburst. Clearly Harry had a great deal of pent up emotions inside of him, and very little opportunity to vent them. What did surprise him was that Harry had chosen him to be his sounding board. Then again, perhaps he'd done so because he knew Severus was safe, that the Director would never reveal what was said to any of the press. Or perhaps he felt better yelling at Snape than he did at say, Ron Weasley.

"No, it isn't," Severus said quietly. "But, unfortunately, we rarely ever get what we want. You and I both know that better than anyone."

"Damn straight," Harry said bitterly. "Although it looks like you've finally got what you've wanted. A cushy job as Director and people who respect you and a family. Must be nice."

"And how many years did I sacrifice, Potter, to get what I have now?" Severus asked sharply. "How many years did I live in the shadows, hated and reviled before I could come into the light again? Over half my life. I sacrificed one thing after another, all so you could fulfill that blasted prophecy and kill Voldemort. I lost my wife, my reputation, and damn near lost my own life, not to mention Arista's, and you would dare begrudge me a little peace and quiet?"

"No!" Harry snapped. "I don't begrudge you anything, Severus Snape. Not anymore. I wish I had what you do, is all." He put his head in his hands, massaging his temples. "Every time it seems like I'm finally having a normal life, something happens and suddenly I'm back to being a bloody hero again. Look at the mess I'm in now. I can't even go on a damn vacation without something going wrong! How many other people d'you know that go on vacation and their wife gets kidnapped by some crazed dark wizard and held for ransom? Only me!"

"You do seem to have the worst luck, Potter. However, if you wanted, as you say, a quiet life, you might have done better to choose a different career. The life of an Auror, like a Dark Hunter, is rarely peaceful."

"You're right. Sometimes I think I should have just accepted that position on the Chudley Cannons as Seeker. But just playing Quidditch . . .it's not enough somehow. Sure it's fun and all, but I don't want to spend my life doing it, even if the pay's great. I like being an Auror, I like being able to do something meaningful, something that helps people."

"Then why are you complaining?"

"Because, damn it all, something always goes wrong!"

"Of course it does. That's life, Mr. Potter. Did you think that once you graduated Hogwarts that everything would be like a fairytale? That you'd live happily ever after without a care in the world? Because if you did, then you're in for a rude awakening. Life's not a storybook."

"Tell me something I don't know, Snape," Harry sneered.

"Mind your tone with me," Severus growled. "I'm not one of your little fan club."

"I don't have a fan club!"

"No? Then what would you call all those people who follow you about, wanting to snap your picture?" Snape pointed out.

"A bloody nuisance, that's what. I wish I could get rid of them."

"Move to a deserted island," suggested Snape.

"They'd find me somehow," Harry said glumly. "Is that all the advice you have for me then? To just deal with it?"

"Unfortunately, there's no magic spell that will ensure a peaceful life. So, yes, harsh as it seems, I am telling you to just deal with it. The same as most adults do, including myself. My life isn't quite the fantasy you picture it, Mr. Potter. Being Director of the DHI is hardly a cushy job, as you put it. I oversee all of the Dark Hunters on the Eastern United States, over a thousand operatives plus the criminals they track down. I work longer hours than I ever did when I taught at Hogwarts and most nights I take some of my work home with me. And we don't always wrap up every case, even though our ratio is better than average. There are always cases that go unsolved and criminals we don't catch. Then there's Gavin, who's more than just my apprentice, he's also my adopted son. You've seen for yourself that he's no obedient child, he had a worse background than either of us, he was a runaway orphan who lived on the streets in a gang as a pickpocket and God knows what else until I got him. Not exactly the ideal son, but then what child is? And now I'm responsible for him until he turns seventeen. Assuming he even makes it that far, because some of the stunts he pulls make me want to strangle him."

"Why'd you adopt him then?"

"Because he needed me, Harry. And hard as this may seem to believe, I like being needed that way. Like you, I want to do something meaningful, and teaching Gavin and being Director are two things I do best and that I enjoy doing, most of the time. I could have stayed on as Headmaster at Hogwarts, that's a much less stressful job."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because being Headmaster wasn't challenging enough for me. It was the same old thing day after day. Now being Director, that is never boring or routine, and living here I can at least see my relatives on the weekends, something I'd never be able to do if I was still at Hogwarts."

"Your family is important to you," Harry said softly, disbelief in his tone.

"Very important. Why are you surprised? Do you still think of me as the old bat of the dungeons, gloomy and bitter, who is content to exist alone and friendless?"

"I, uh . . ."

"Don't bother to answer, for I can see you do think that." Severus shook his head, disappointed. "After all this time, do you know me so little as all that? Did you never pay attention to what Albus taught you, Mr. Potter, about things never being what they seem? Why do you still see the mask I used to wear and not the man I am beneath it?"

Harry looked away, suddenly ashamed and unable to meet the other man's eyes. He had the horrible feeling that he'd been behaving like nothing so much as a spoiled sixteen-year-old brat ever since he'd crossed the threshold of Snape's house. A spoiled brat in need of a sound spanking, just like Brittany Marsh, God help me, he thought with a wince. Which Severus just gave me, verbally, he realized, blushing. Those last few pointed comments stung like hell, but they were deserved. For he had been blind, insisting on seeing Snape as he had been, not as he truly was. Just the way he'd done when he was sixteen.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I've been behaving like a bloody idiot since I came here, haven't I?"

"You have. However, I'll forgive you, considering the amount of stress you've been under. No man is very rational when his wife is in danger. And I'll admit, I've been baiting you more than I should and for that I apologize. Shall we call a truce, Potter?"

"Yes. And please, call me Harry."

"Very well, Harry. Now that's over with, I need to check on my son, and then I'll contact Mr. Barrow and see if he has any new information for us. I have a nagging feeling that this Shifter character is someone from your past, someone who knows you rather well."

"I was thinking that myself." Harry agreed. "I just hope we can get a few good leads before he does something to hurt Ginny."

"As do I. Have a little faith, Harry. After all, I am a Dark Hunter now, not just a Potions Master, and you know the Hunter motto, don't you?"

"Yeah. You always get your quarry," Harry recited, smiling. He cast a glance at Snape's shirt, which was a black longsleeved one with the Hunter crest on it in gold thread-a magehound tracking a set of clawed footprints. "Still wearing black, huh, Severus?"

"As you see. And your point is?"

"I think you like being intimidating."

"Sometimes. But that's not the only reason I wear black most of the time." Snape said mysteriously.

"Then why?"

"That is for me to know and for you to find out. If you can," the other challenged. Then he turned and walked down the hallway to check on Gavin, leaving a very thoughtful and much calmer Harry pondering the puzzle his former professor had become.