Coming Back Home by CleganeSnape

Severus Snape walked down the stairs carefully, placing one foot in front of the other and gripping the rail with his hand. It took him half an hour to cover a distance that, before Nagini's attack, he would have done in barely five minutes, but when finally, sweaty and aching all over, he reached the door to his quarters, satisfaction filled his chest. It had been almost a week since he had awakened, but his near-death experience had left him with after-effects that he wasn't sure were going to disappear completely. He seemed to be getting better every day, regaining strength and autonomy, but it frightened him to think that he might never be his old self again.

He looked around before opening the door, to make sure he was alone. He felt no imminent threat but after so many years in tension it was hard to relax. He was in the dungeons, in front of the rooms that had been his home for so many years. That area of the castle had been deserted since the Slytherin had left the school before and after the battle, and at the moment it still was.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the doorknob, fearing what he might find when he opened it, but to his surprise his quarters looked just as they had been when he had left them. He raised an eyebrow, wondering how that was possible since Slughorn had lived there for two years. When he reached the kitchen, he got his answer. A letter rested on the table and, glancing at it, he immediately recognized Minerva's handwriting.

Dear Severus,

As we agreed, I have had your belongings sent to your new quarters. Everything should be there, but if you find anything in particular missing, don't hesitate to let me know.

P.S. Horace took all his stuff with him before he left and I have transfigured the furniture back so it looks exactly as it did two years ago when you left.

Welcome back,

Minerva McGonagall

Severus sighed, setting the letter back down on the table. Minerva was being too attentive and considerate. It irritated him. The professor still felt guilty about how she had treated Snape during that last year, and she also seemed to have taken responsibility for his near-death experience. She was convinced that, if she hadn't hexed him out of the castle, Voldemort wouldn't have been able to try to kill him. Snape rolled his eyes at the memory. As if she could have prevented it. The Dark Lord would have found him anyway if he so wished.

Those thoughts brought back images in his mind that he was trying to forget. The sharp fangs of the snake, the stabbing pain in his throat, the venom burning in his veins...

Snape shook his head and forced himself to think of something else. He pushed those memories to the back of his mind and looked around for a distraction. As he did so, he noticed for the first time a box leaning against the sofa. He approached it with curiosity. Inside were the few personal items he had taken with him to Dumbledore's office. A notebook in which he wrote the potions or new spells he was working on, a dark green - almost black - cloak that had been a gift from Albus, some cufflinks that Minerva had given him in his first year teaching at Hogwarts... Severus Snape was not a sentimental person and, if someone had asked him, he would have said that those objects were simply useful and expensive enough to want to keep them under his watch. That was why he had taken them from his quarters in the dungeons, to his rooms in the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower and, finally, to the Headmaster's office. And, if it was the case that they were gifts that showed respect or affection that someone had felt for him at some point... That was just a coincidence.

He continued searching through the box until he found what he was looking for. A photo album enchanted to look empty. Snape waved his wand, muttering the counter spell, and, instantly, the blank pages filled with pictures, some moving, some static. Snape stared at them, swallowing hard. His mother hugging him, looking at the camera with still some sparkle in her eyes, before it disappeared; Lily and him as children, smiling and making faces in his direction; Snape, head held high and pride in his features as Lucius slipped an arm around his shoulders; Minerva and Albus forcing him to take a picture at the staff Christmas lunch, his usual expression of irritation softened against his will... He took a deep breath, pushing down the feelings that rose from his chest to his throat. Then he sat down on the couch, trying to regain his breath and composure. With trembling hands, from fatigue or emotions, he couldn't tell, he reached the last page of the album. Half of the letter and the photo he had taken from Grimmauld Place were there, and Severus felt a pang of guilt at the sight of them. He had needed them during that last horrible year, but now it seemed selfish to have robbed Potter of a memory of his mother. Pushing those thoughts aside for later, he set the photo album on the coffee table, and lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

He was exhausted and, as he ran a hand over his face, his white hand contrasted against the black of his sleeve. Before leaving the infirmary, Snape had changed back into his usual robes, as there was no way he was going to walk the halls of Hogwarts in his hospital pajamas, no matter how empty the school was. Seeing himself in those familiar robes had made him feel a little more like himself, but the walk from the infirmary had brought him back to reality and that strange feeling of not recognizing or controlling his own body. Still, he was relieved to be back in his space. He had needed to get away from the gurney, from that smell of sickness and potions that filled the air, especially without Potter's irritating presence to distract him. Of course, Poppy hadn't agreed. 'You still need to rest and recover,' she had said. But Severus could take it no more and, after talking to Minerva, they had agreed that, for the time being, returning to their rooms in the dungeons was the best solution.

Slughorn had left the school after the battle, and no one knew if he would return the following year. That might free up Snape's old position, but the man was not sure at all what he wanted to do with his life. Teaching those brats for over fifteen years had not been his favorite thing to do, but it was all he had ever known. That, and spying for Dumbledore and protecting Potter. Now that the threat of the Dark Lord was gone, Snape would have to think long and hard about his plans for the future. At the moment, no one knew what would happen next school year and no one seemed worried about it. So, Severus would still have a few months to decide what to do. That was if the Ministry didn't arrest him first and send him to Azkaban, of course.

Minerva had informed him how the Death Eater trials were to begin shortly, after all the victims had been buried. It had been decided that way out of respect for the families. Severus didn't know if he was going to be arrested as well once word got out that he had survived. Or if he would have to stand trial and testify about his true alliances. He almost preferred to be sent straight to Azkaban, rather than have to show his memories to that bunch of corrupt wizards of the Wizengamot. Perhaps Potter could testify on his behalf. That would probably be enough. Severus shuddered at the thought. The spawn of James Potter, saving him from a life sentence in Azkaban. The thought held less malice than usual, as his talks with the boy had made him see him in a different light, but still, now that the boy wasn't around to see those green eyes full of ghosts, Snape was back to his old ways.

He leaned against the back of the couch, running a hand over his tired eyes. Thinking of Potter troubled him these days. So many things troubled him these days. On the one hand, he wanted to ignore the boy and go live in a cabin in the middle of the mountains where no one would ever find him or bother him. Maybe he could finally sit somewhere and never move again. The forest would grow around him, and the moss would cover him, and Severus wouldn't have to think and deal with all those traumas, feelings, and memories that he carried with him. But, on the other hand, he knew that even so, a part of him would always be worried for the boy, wondering if he was well, if he was in danger. It had become second nature to Severus. Something as natural as breathing.

'I wish I were dead,' he had said the night Lily was killed. But Dumbledore had redirected those feelings to one purpose: protecting the boy. That had kept him alive for seventeen long years, and when he had learned that Potter had to die, Snape had felt that that purpose was gone and, consequently, a part of him had died as well. He had dragged himself through the next year like an automaton, spying, lying and carrying out every part of Albus' plan, fearing that every second that passed, the boy was closer to the slaughterhouse. And when, finally, Voldemort had decided to finish him off and Potter was there to hear the last part of the plan, to know what he should do and to understand him, Snape, the man had felt at peace. Ready to go. If the boy was going to die, he no longer had anything to anchor him to this world.

But Potter had survived and, against all odds, so had Snape. Then the boy had decided that he wanted to build some sort of friendship with Severus and spend time with him. Snape had reluctantly agreed because he needed to make sure Potter was going to be all right. Not because he cared about the boy, of course. But because, if he knew he wasn't in any danger, mental or physical, then he wouldn't have to worry about him and perhaps he could move on with his life.

Snape sighed, exhausted, and pushed Potter from his mind with an effort. The boy had left a couple of days ago to the Burrow, for Fred Weasley's funeral, and Snape was going to enjoy the quiet. He would not let Potter invade his thoughts as well as his loneliness. He also removed everything that had to do with the funeral. He didn't want to imagine the Weasleys in that situation, or all that it entailed. He couldn't think about it, or he would lose his temper like Potter had in Hagrid's hut. He cursed himself as his mind wandered back to the boy and he forced himself to empty his head, taking deep breaths and concentrating, as he had done so many times before meeting with the Dark Lord.

By the time he was done, Snape was too exhausted to bother walking to the bed. He sat up with an effort and waved his wand, creating some protective spells around his new quarters. Then, lying back down on the couch, he leaned against the dark cushions and took a deep breath. It felt strange to be there again and a part of him wished the last two years hadn't happened. That Albus was still alive and he didn't have to face the unknown of his future or think about what he was going to do with Potter and this new relationship he had unintentionally formed with the boy. But Snape knew that wishing something deeply did not make it true. So, resigning himself to his fate, he rolled onto his side and pushed those thoughts from his mind once more. Then he closed his eyes and, after a few seconds, he fell asleep.

The day had started slowly, quietly, with the Sun shining in the sky and the Weasleys gradually waking up in the living room of the Burrow. Harry, blinking and with his hand still holding Ginny's, remembered what had happened the night before. But he thought of Fred's words, his smile, and his hug, and felt comforted. He realized that the boy's absence now hurt a little less than before. From the expressions on the faces of the others; the Weasleys felt that way too. He could see it in the way Percy said good morning to him, in the look he shared with George, and in the smile Ron gave him, still squinting half-asleep. Also in Arthur, who, opening the curtains to let light into the living room, looked more like that easy-going wizard Harry had known than the broken father of the last few weeks. He could also see it in Bill and Charlie, and in the easy conversation they shared as they transfigured the beds back into sofas And, finally, in Mrs. Weasley who, walking with a new stride in her step, went straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The mood had changed from the day before, of that there was no doubt. And, although the future would not be easy, at least for one morning tranquility had returned to the Burrow.

After a few minutes, Molly called them from the kitchen, saying that breakfast was ready. They all went in together, still in their pajamas and with unkempt hair. They sat at the table, enjoying the freshly made food and talking quietly. That scene reminded Harry of one of many mornings at the Burrow, when life had been simpler. Or maybe it just seemed that way, reminiscing through the glass of the past and nostalgia. Harry sipped his cup of chocolate milk, deep in thought, when a tapping against the window startled them all. On the windowsill, a brown owl carried a letter in its beak.

Mr. Weasley picked it up, opened it and began to read to himself, while Harry wondered who it could be from.

"It's from Andromeda Tonks." Arthur explained. "She gives us her condolences for Fred and apologizes for not coming yesterday. And... and invites us, for lack of a better word, to Remus and Tonks' funeral. Which will take place tomorrow at her home..."

Harry slowly lowered the cup and rested it back on the table. He knew that moment would eventually come, but he had hoped to have a little more time to take in Fred's funeral first. From the expressions of the others, so did they.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, running a hand over her face wearily.

"It's hard, guys. I know. But it has to be done."

Arthur patted her shoulder, supporting her.

"It does...and Remus and Tonks deserve it." He said, nodding sadly. "Listen, I know we're still recovering from everything we went through yesterday. So today we're going to take the day to ourselves. If you feel like lying in bed in your pajamas for hours, go for it. If you want to go for a walk, or to Hogwarts, or go broomstick flying, you can do that too. Really. Today is a day when we won't be explaining ourselves to anyone. Not even to me or your mother. We'll take care of ourselves, doing whatever we feel like doing." He looked them one by one in the eye. "Agreed?"

They all nodded, appreciating that idea and Harry began to think about what he wanted to do during that day. The letter had left them all without much of an appetite, so breakfast didn't last much longer. Once they had risen from the table, Harry walked over to the corner where Ron, Hermione and Ginny were standing.

"I'd like to stay here with you guys." He began, somewhat nervously. "But I feel like I have to go to Hogwarts - at least for a couple of hours. I want to talk to Snape and explain everything that's happened. But I also want to tell him to come to the funeral. Andromeda doesn't know he's alive, so she won't have sent him a letter... But something tells me that Snape will need to say goodbye to Remus and Tonks."

Ginny said nothing, but Ron and Hermione shared a look, something they tended to do of late, communicating without words.

"Sounds good to me, Harry." Ron nodded. "Really. I think it will help Snape to go to the funeral. But I'll tell Dad to let Andromeda know first. Just so she knows. I don't think she needs a surprise like that during a day like tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, of course. You're right." Harry hadn't thought of that. "And thank you for understanding. I'll try to get back as soon as possible, because I want to spend time with you too. Even if it's just to have a game of chess or a couple of laps on the brooms."

They both smiled at those words. Then Hermione came over and hugged him, saying:

"We want to spend time with you too, Harry. Who knew I'd miss our day-to-day life in the forest."

"I wouldn't..." Ron joked, though there was seriousness in his face. "But I see what you mean. I have the feeling that it's been years since we've had a normal day."

The four of them nodded, but, before their thoughts could drift off into depressing topics, Ron added:

"Anyway, I'm going to take a shower. Cause if I hug you like Hermione just did maybe I'll kill you with my smelliness."

Humor snapped them back to reality, pushing away the images that had begun to form in their minds.

"It wouldn't be the first time." Ginny told him, grimacing exaggeratedly.

"Hey!" Ron played offended, though he grinned and started walking towards the bathroom.

Once there was a little distance between them, Ginny breathed in dramatically.

"Whew, thank goodness. I can get oxygen again!" That caused Hermione and Harry to let out a laugh, while Ron, after opening the bathroom door with a smile in his face, made a rude gesture with his hand and closed it behind him.

"I'm going to ask Mrs. Weasley for a clean towel." Hermione said, looking at the spot where Ron stood seconds before. "Your brother has forgotten to do that, and I can already imagine him freezing and shivering."

"He doesn't know how lucky he is to have you." Ginny smiled at her.

Hermione returned the gesture.

"I know..." She said. "Though I'm lucky to have him too." After those words, she walked away in search of Molly, leaving them alone.

"Are you angry that I'm leaving for Hogwarts?" The question escaped Harry's lips without him wanting to. "I know we have a conversation waiting for us, but..." The words died in his mouth, without Harry knowing how to continue. Between the War, the funeral and everything else, they hadn't had time for the two of them for almost a year now, and although there were more important things going on at the moment, they would have to talk about their relationship at some point. They couldn't keep avoiding it after the kisses, the looks, the hugs, and the conversations they had shared. That was why he understood if Ginny was mad at him. If she was upset about the fact that Harry needed to go to Hogwarts to talk to Snape rather than stay and spend time with her.

"I'm not angry." Ginny said, seeing that the boy wasn't going to continue. "Really. I understand if you want to go and tell him everything that's happened. I really do. Your relationship has changed and now Snape is someone important to you."

Harry appreciated those words but realized that Ginny hadn't said anything about the second part of his sentence.

"I also understand that you need some air, after these last two days. That you need a few hours to yourself." The girl continued. "I mean, you've spent the last year living in the middle of the woods with Ron and Hermione. You've gotten used to doing what you wanted without having to explain yourself to anybody. And now you've been at Hogwarts for two weeks doing the same thing too. So, it seems normal to me that you'd need some space."

Harry nodded but was still nervous. Ginny still hadn't said anything about the two of them, and the more the boy thought about it, the more he wondered if they could ever have a normal relationship. The traumas, the pain, all the things they'd been through and done, weighed too much. And Harry couldn't see himself getting up every day next to her, with the same routine; cleaning the dishes, going to work, shopping, going on dates in fancy restaurants, dancing without music in the kitchen... as if nothing had happened. All those thoughts had been building up in his head for some time and Harry swallowed nervously. He knew that, if she asked him, he wouldn't be able to give her a straight answer. He couldn't promise to be an ordinary boyfriend. Not right now at least. And he knew that, if Ginny wanted a relationship and a future like that, she was going to get it, with or without Harry. And the boy couldn't ask her to wait for him. Or to give up what she wanted for him.

"Harry?"

"Huh?"

"Are you alright? You're shaking."

Harry realized he was, so he concentrated on trying to calm himself down.

"Is it because of something I said?" Ginny looked him straight in the eye, wanting to understand him. "Listen to me, we don't have to have any conversations about us. Not today and not tomorrow either. I told you a couple of weeks ago, Harry. There's no rush. We can take this slow. Figure out what we want. I thought you knew that."

"Yeah... Well, but after, you know, yesterday's kisses." Harry blushed. "And after... After everything that happened at the funeral and then with Fred. And you holding my hand the whole night... I don't know, I thought maybe you wanted an answer. That you wanted me to be sure."

Ginny smiled warmly at him.

"If at any time I need to talk to you about something, I'll tell you. You don't have to worry about that. And, as for us... At the moment, I can say that I like being with you. And I think you like being with me too. But we don't have to complicate ourselves. Not with everything that's happened. I told you before and I repeat it now: we have time. And you don't have to ask my permission to go to Hogwarts or wherever you want. That would be crazy!" She shook her head, humor on her face. "I want you to do what you need to do. Whatever makes you happy. Because I'll do the same. Obviously, communicating is important, and I thank you for thinking of me, but you don't owe me anything. Okay?"

Harry stared at her for a few moments, remembering once again why he liked Ginny so much. Things were simple with her. They always had been, even during their time together in their sixth year. Ginny knew what she wanted. And more importantly, she was always going to tell him what was on her mind. She was always going to tell him the truth. After so many years of secrets about his future, of not knowing, of half-truths, it was refreshing. And it was something he needed.

"Harry?" Ginny asked when the boy didn't answer. "I mean it. I don't want you to worry about me. The truth is, it's going to be nice to be alone for a few hours. After the funeral and all those days helping mom prepare the tables, the food, organize the whole guests situation... A little calm and quiet will be fine. Obviously, I also want to spend time together, but when we both feel like it. We'll have plenty of days for that."

Harry managed to finally regain his voice.

"Thank you. Really. For understanding and for, I don't know, making things so simple. Cho Chang would never-"

He snapped his mouth shut; afraid he'd made a mistake. But Ginny shook her head.

"I never liked her too much for obvious reasons." She said, nodding in his direction. "But after Fred... I understand why she was always crying and why almost everything put her in a bad mood. It must not have been easy to lose Cedric so young."

Harry swallowed hard, feeling guilty.

"No, it mustn't... The truth is, I feel bad that I didn't know how to help her. I guess we dealt with grief in totally opposite ways. Though I don't regret that we ended whatever we had between us, obviously." He said, smiling in the direction of the girl, who returned the gesture.

"Me, neither."

"But, seriously now, Ginny. Back to the subject we were talking about... I really appreciate everything you've said. I like the way you make things so easy. Sometimes I get all confused and stressed out inside of my own mind and I need you to come in and tell my brain to stop with that nonsense." The girl smiled at him, and he took that as a good sign to continue talking. "And it's important that you know that I want to spend time with you too. And I will. Today if you want. I'll try to come as soon as possible and then we can sit together and talk for as long as we want."

Ginny smiled warmly at him.

"I look forward to it."

Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Ron appeared, wrapped in a towel. Hermione must have handed it to him while they were talking, without Harry or Ginny noticing.

"Are you guys still here?" He asked them, the water falling from his hair dampening the floor. "Harry, I'd go get ready if I were you, or the day is going to pass, and you won't have gone to Hogwarts."

Ginny smiled at him.

"He's right. Go, Harry, I'll see you later."

The boy nodded and, after a quick hug, he went to ask Mrs. Weasley for a clean towel. He then hurried into the bathroom and showered quickly. After that, he brushed his teeth and got dressed. He tried to comb his hair as well, but ever since he was little that had been a losing battle, so he flattened it with one hand, hoping that would be enough to keep it under control.

Half an hour later, after saying goodbye to the Weasleys, Apparating at Hogwarts, and walking across the grounds to the castle, Harry was inside the infirmary, his hair still slightly damp. He entered at a brisk pace, his feet carrying him without having to think about it towards Snape's room. He had taken that route countless times over the past two weeks. The clean smell and the silence that reigned in the infirmary did not fill him with anxiety as they had at first, but instead they comforted him, knowing that he was safe there and that Snape was only a few feet away, lying on his gurney. After the last few days, Fred's funeral, saying goodbye to him, and, finally, Andromeda Tonks' letter that morning, Harry needed to feel that safety.

Reaching Snape's door, he knocked with his knuckles a couple of times, getting no response. Frowning, he opened it slowly, wondering if the professor was sleeping. The blinds were down, but enough light was coming in to see that no one was lying on the bed. Harry muttered a quick "Lumos," wondering where Snape might be. The light coming from his wand illuminated the room, allowing Harry to inspect his surroundings.

There was no sign of Snape and the place was spotless, as if it had not been used at all. The bed was made, the white sheets lay on the mattress without a single wrinkle and the pillows looked soft and unused. The room smelled clean and new. For an instant, Harry had a horrible thought. Had Snape been a figment of his imagination? Had the man died in the Shrieking Shack and his brain had created the Snape of the infirmary in order to deal with what had happened during the battle?

Harry's heart pounded and the boy had to sit in the nearest chair. The chair he used to read in during those long nights waiting for Snape to wake up. Harry buried his face in his hands, forcing himself to take a deep breath. 'I'm not losing my mind.' He said to himself. 'Snape is real, he survived. Hermione and Ron brought him back from the Shrieking Shack. And Ginny, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall have seen him too. 'I'm not losing my mind.' He repeated it to himself several times until he was sure of it. And, once he managed to calm down somewhat, he took another deep breath and glanced at the bed. 'But then... Why isn't Snape here? And why are the sheets so clean and new?' Another horrible thought ran through him. Had Snape died while he was at the Burrow? It couldn't be, the Professor seemed to be recovering and Madam Pomfrey had said he was out of danger now. He had woken up and had been eating and talking to Harry for several days. It couldn't be that he had passed away. Someone would have told him. But that horrible feeling wouldn't go away from his stomach. That unsteadiness. It didn't matter that Harry kept repeating those words to himself and tried to be rational. 'Maybe I've got the wrong room?' The thought came in the middle of that whirlwind of panic, causing Harry to shake his head. If that was the case, he was going to be very angry with himself.

He got up from his chair and walked out the door so he could look at the number written next to it.

"Potter?" Harry turned and saw Madam Pomfrey a few feet away in the middle of the waiting room. "What are you doing here?"

"I... uh..." Harry swallowed hard. He had just seen that the room number was correct. He hadn't made a mistake. "I was looking for Snape, Madam Pomfrey. But... He's not on his gurney and the room is all clean and-"

The woman held up a hand in a reassuring gesture, quieting him.

"Severus is okay, Harry. He and Professor McGonagall decided it would be wise for him to leave the infirmary and return to his rooms in the Dungeons." She let out a snort, making it clear what she thought about it.

"Oh." Relief took Harry's breath away. "So, he's okay?" He repeated. "Nothing happened to him?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at him for a few moments, understanding.

"Of course he's okay, Harry. Have you been worried? I'm sorry, I thought someone would have told you. Severus is perfectly fine. You can go and see him if you want. I'm sure he'll like it."

Harry wasn't sure about that, but he nodded, with his heart still pounding. A few seconds passed in which he tried to regain his composure. He finally managed to do it, but there was one thing he still didn't understand.

"Madam Pomfrey, may I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What happened to the room? It's as if Snape had never been in it. It's so tidy and clean..."

The woman looked at him with humor in her eyes and a small smile.

"This is an infirmary, Potter." She said as if it was obvious. "The rooms are left like this for the next patient. We use potions and spells to remove any trace of the person who has been there before. Hygiene is extremely important in this job, you know."

Harry felt very stupid all of a sudden but nodded.

"Yeah, right. It makes sense... Did you say Snape is in the Dungeons?" He asked, changing the subject so as not to look even dumber.

"That's right, do you know where his rooms are?"

Harry shook his head.

"I know where his office is, but I don't think he sleeps there, does he?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head but smiled at him.

"No. Severus is on the other side. Near the Slytherin Common Room." The woman looked at him suspiciously as she saw him nod. "Though being a Gryffindor, you shouldn't know where that is..."

Harry tried to look innocent.

"Eh... It's too long a story. But yes, I do know where the Common Room is."

She let out a long sigh.

"I don't even know why I'm asking..." She ran a hand over her face wearily. "Severus' quarters are behind a black wooden door. In a corridor to the left of the Common Room."

Harry repeated those words in his mind for a few seconds, memorizing them.

"Understood. Thank you very much, Madam Pomfrey."

She nodded accepting his thanks.

"You're welcome, Potter. If you can't find them, come back here and I'll help you as soon as I have a minute."

"Thank you, but I think I can handle it.

"All right, then. Have a good day, Potter."

"You too, ma'am."

After nodding at those words, Madam Pomfrey left the room, in search of her other patients. Harry watched her for a few moments, before departing in the direction of the Dungeons.

It had been a long time since he had been in that area of the castle and the hairs on his arms stood up as he descended the stairs, feeling the cold that reigned in the place. He tried to remember where the Slytherin Common Room was, but it had been many years since he and Ron, posing as Crabbe and Goyle, had entered it, so it took him longer than expected. The entrance to the Common Room was hidden in the middle of a brick wall and, if Harry hadn't been paying attention, he would have thought that was an ordinary one. Luckily, on closer inspection, he could see the markings on the sides, indicating where the wall retreated, allowing passage. Proud of himself, Harry couldn't help but smirk. Then, remembering Madam Pomfrey's words, he turned to his left, looking for the corridor and the black wooden door the healer had indicated. When he finally found it, he stopped in front of it, admiring its dark color. He ran his fingers over the material, tracing the curves of the wood and feeling himself getting goosebumps again, though this time they were caused by the excitement he was feeling. He had never been to Snape's chambers before, and he couldn't deny that he was extremely curious about it. His office in the dungeons was the only place he had ever been to that belonged to the professor. And it didn't exactly bring back good memories. He hoped that these quarters, Snape's home after all, would be different.

Swallowing with nervousness, he realized that his hands were sweating, so he wiped them against the fabric of his pants. After taking a deep breath, he raised a hand and knocked twice with his knuckles. He then exhaled, waiting for a reply.