Coming Back Home by CleganeSnape

Knockturn Alley hadn't changed much since the last time Harry had been there, during his sixth year. It was still dark, narrow, and dirty. And, although he felt safer with Snape there, there was still something about the place that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

As had been the case with Diagon Alley, the street was emptier than usual; the strange, creepy, dirty-looking wizards that used to be there had disappeared. Harry didn't know if they had fled when Voldemort came to power or if, on the contrary, they had been part of his followers and were now being held in Azkaban. He didn't have time to think too much about it, however. It had been only a few seconds since they had arrived when, suddenly, Snape stopped dead in his tracks and said:

"Wait, Potter. I forgot. Look at me for a second."

Harry turned around, moving his green eyes to the professor's face and what he saw made him gasp. Snape's wand was right in front of his nose, pointed directly at him.

"What are you doing?" He said, frowning and taking a step back.

"Be still."

Harry did as he was told but couldn't help raising a hand and placing it between the wand and his face.

"Can you tell me first what you plan to do with that?"

Snape sighed in annoyance, but did as Harry had asked.

"I forgot to change your appearance." He said, lowering his wand, and causing Harry to do the same with his hand. "It's true that there are few people who could recognize you at first glance... Most haven't seen you since last year, and you look quite different, with that long hair and the ridiculous thing you call a beard..."

Harry opened his mouth, offended, but Snape added:

"Still, I don't think it's smart for you to walk around Knockturn Alley showing your face to everyone. Especially if you're with me."

"What do you mean?" Harry said with a frown.

"Well," Snape began, sarcasm in his voice, "first of all, I haven't been tried for my crimes yet. It might seem like I'm manipulating you into testifying on my behalf."

Harry shook his head.

"It wouldn't be necessary. You're innocent. And that's what I'll say if anyone asks me."

Trying not to delve too deeply into a subject that, even if he didn't want to show it, troubled him, Snape said:

"That's very kind of you, Potter. But then, there is also the fact that we find ourselves in one of the most undesirable places in all of England. Famous for its dark arts stores and businesses, and for the... particular characters that can be found there. Considering I'm a former Death Eater, and you're the savior of the magical world, some people might think I'm trying to convince you to join the dark side. Poor naive Potter..." He said, causing Harry to roll his eyes.

"Some people have too much time on their hands." Replied the boy. "I don't care about which gossips could fly around. I'm used to people thinking the most stupid and implausible things. It's been that way for years."

"Maybe." Snape said. "But to be honest, it's not the ordinary people I'm worried about. It's my... former comrades."

It took Harry a second to understand what he was referring to.

"You mean the other Death Eaters? I thought almost all of them had been arrested."

"That's right, Potter. Almost all of them. But there are always a few who manage to sneak away and hide in the shadows."

Harry swallowed, looking around nervously. Luckily, the street was completely empty.

"However," Snape continued, "one advantage of this War over the first is that most of the Dark Lord's followers stopped hiding their identity. As incompetent as the Ministry is, in time, they should be able to catch them all, especially with a wizard like Kingsley at the helm."

The respect for the man was evident in Snape's voice and a part of Harry wondered, curiously, about the kind of relationship that existed between them after so many years. Was it cordial? Cold? Friendly? Harry bit his lip, thinking. He would have liked to know more about what Snape thought of Kingsley and the other members of the Order, but that didn't seem like the right time to ask. The shadows cast by the few rays of sunlight sneaking between the buildings were too dark and Harry eyed them apprehensively, trying to discern if anything was hiding in them.

"So, you think it's possible, sir?" He asked, his eyes glued to the steep stairs in front of him, descending towards the rest of the alley. "That there are any Death Eaters hiding around here?"

"Everything is possible, Potter." Snape replied. "But, while I believe it would be too much of a coincidence to run into any of them, it's better to be safe than sorry. If they see you, they'll attack without a second thought."

"And what about you, won't they do the same to a spy who betrayed their Dark lord?"

Snape shook his head.

"I know you proclaimed my innocence for everyone to hear during the end of the Battle, Potter." He said, causing Harry to blush. "But most Death Eaters who were there are already in Azkaban. And the others... Well, let's just say I wouldn't be the first wizard to fool the Ministry and act as a traitor to the Dark Lord when he is not. My former comrades will want to make sure I'm not still one of theirs before they hex me."

Harry wasn't sure about that but decided it was best not to argue.

"Besides," Snape continued, "this isn't the only reason why I want to hide your identity. Most wizards act differently when you're in their presence. And there are people that I would want to talk to, information I would like to obtain... And I don't think it would be possible while having the famous Harry Potter hanging from my arm."

Harry narrowed his eyes, the gears turning in his mind. People to talk to? Information to obtain? Suddenly that trip to Knockturn Alley didn't seem as innocent as before.

"We didn't come all this way just to buy potion ingredients, did we?" He said suspiciously.

Snape gave him one of those genuine smiles that were so rare on him.

"I hadn't thought about it when I agreed to go to Diagon Alley with you, if that's what you're wondering. But then, planning what to do while we were here... Well, the opportunity seemed too good to waste. It's been over a month since the Battle and I want to know what the situation is." He explained. "And there are certain people here who, even if they could not be considered Death Eaters as such, are sympathetic to the cause and have been involved in their circles. Maybe, they can give me information on what's been going on. If there's some plan brewing among those who managed to escape. Some kind of revenge of sorts. Or if, on the contrary, things are better than I expected."

Harry ran a hand over his face wearily. He knew that old habits die hard, and that Snape had been a spy for many years. He understood why he couldn't pass up the opportunity to get information. But, still, he worried that he was doing all this to make himself feel useful. Or, a little voice in his head reminded him, wouldn't it be to keep you safe?

"But that doesn't mean the ingredients aren't important." Snape added, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. "I have a project in mind that could be very interesting and requires certain things that are hard to find. If you keep up the level you've shown the last few days, perhaps you could give me a hand with the brewing."

Harry lifted his head, his concern forgotten after those words.

"Really?" He hadn't expected that.

"Really. But we'll talk about it later. First... We have to hide you." Snape reminded him.

Harry took a deep breath; he trusted the man, but being on the other side of his wand, not knowing what was going to happen, scared him. Trying to calm himself, knowing that changing his appearance was necessary, he sighed and looked Snape in the eye.

"All right." He said, squaring his shoulders. "I'm ready. Do what you have to do."

"One would think that you don't trust me, Potter." Snape replied with a mocking expression. "Hold still. This won't hurt."

Harry nodded, though the nervousness was still inside him. Seeing the expression in the boy's face, Snape added, with an amused twinkle in his eye:

"I hope."

Those two words, instead of increasing his unease, had the opposite effect. Harry's worry subsided and his lips curved upward, appreciating his professor's humor.

"Ready?" Snape asked, pointing his wand at him.

"Ready."

The Potions Master nodded and then focused his gaze on the boy, concentration on his features. After a moment, Harry felt something hot and cold at the same time fall on his head. For a second, he thought it was water, but then the strange material flowed down the rest of his face, past his forehead and cheeks and onto his chin, and he knew it was not. No water felt this light and heavy at the same time. Then, he noticed a strange whisper coming from Snape's mouth. The professor was mumbling incomprehensible words, his brown frowned, and his lips moving. As Harry tried to make out some of what he was saying, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, how a lock of his own hair, right next to his cheekbone, had begun to change color. It started to lighten, transforming from the black he was used to, to a dark blonde tone. And, when the boy moved his gaze to look back at Snape, he realized, annoyed, that there was something in the middle of his field of vision. With a startled gasp, he noticed that it was his nose, which had grown considerably. He raised a hand to touch it, but Snape stopped him:

"Wait, Potter, we're not finished. Let me see."

The Potions Master stepped back and contemplated his handiwork for a few seconds.

"Hmm, yes, it might work." He said, as Harry averted his gaze, somewhat uncomfortable with that scrutiny. "You know, Potter. If you had looked like this from day one, it would have been a lot harder to hate you. You look nothing like your father."

Not quite knowing what to say, Harry started to move, but Snape stopped him again.

"Wait." He said once more. "I've changed the color of your hair, hidden the scar, and lengthened your nose and chin a bit. But I'm afraid an attentive person could still identify you. Those glasses are too recognizable, Potter." He added with annoyance.

"And couldn't you fix my eyes so I don't need them?"

Snape clicked his tongue.

"No... The enchantment only changes your appearance. Your face remains the same, it's the image others see that's different. And, while there are wizards who are able to fix vision problems, doing something akin to laser surgery for Muggles, it must be done by a trained professional, which obviously, I am not. You may decide in the future to go through with the procedure and ditch these uncomfortable glasses for good... But, right now, we'll have to think of another solution."

Harry nodded, saving that information for another time, and then Snape raised his wand again.

"Let's see... Perhaps I could change the color of your eyes, and also the model of the glasses... Yes, yes that could work. Be very still, Potter."

Harry tensed again and his first instinct was to close his eyes tightly, but, taking a deep breath, he forced himself to keep them open and remain still. Snape pointed directly at his left pupil and then, delicately, subtly moved the wand in a semicircle. Once he was done, he repeated the same with his right eye.

"That's it. Done." Snape said, causing Harry to exhale with relief. "Now all that remains is to modify the glasses."

With a wave of his wand, Harry's thin, round glasses became squarer and thicker. The boy turned his head to look at his reflection in the dusty glass of the nearest store. A light-haired stranger returned his gaze, one with brown eyes, and when he reached up to touch that nose larger than his own, the young man in the reflection did the same.

"What a weird feeling..." He muttered.

"Try not to show so much surprise about your own face, Potter. It's important that you are convincing."

"Yes, sir." The boy said, finally averting his gaze from the reflection. "And now, what do we do?"

Snape looked around at the deserted alley that snaked forward, descending into darkness.

"Now... if you can assure me that you'll know how to behave, then we can go."

Harry nodded, trying to show Snape that he had nothing to worry about, that he wasn't going to blow that opportunity.

"Alright." Said the Potions Master. "With any luck, if we get both the information I'm interested in and the ingredients, we'll only have to go to one particular place. A place that, from what I hear, will be familiar to you."

Harry frowned.

"Sir?"

"Borgin and Burkes, Potter. As I recall, you've been to that store more than once, haven't you?"

Harry's heart pounded. That was the shop where Draco Malfoy had bought the pendant that nearly ended Katie Bell's life. Where the closet that the Death Eaters had used the night Dumbledore died was located. Snape must have seen the anger on his face, because he added:

"Well, you seem to know the place. That's good, that way you will also know what to expect from Borgin."

"I can't believe he is not behind bars." Harry said angrily. "Everyone knows he's a blood supremacist and has had dealings with Death Eaters."

"That's right." Snape replied. "But, at the end of the day, the same could be said of a great many wizards. And, in this case, our dear Borgin could be of much use to us." At the expression that had appeared on Harry's face, he added, "Get a grip, Potter. Borgin's not the smartest person, but even he'll realize something's up if you look at him that way."

"But-"

"It's imperative that he doesn't suspect anything, or he won't give up any information. So, you will take a deep breath, remain quiet, and not react to anything he says." Snape glared at him. "Understood? Don't make me regret bringing you along."

Harry narrowed those brown eyes Snape had given him.

"You could have come another day by yourself to buy the ingredients and get your precious information." He said, between angry and curious. "If you're so worried that I'm going to ruin the plan, why did you bring me with you?"

Snape watched him silently for a few seconds. Finally, when Harry already thought he wasn't going to answer, he said:

"It's always best to have someone who has your back, in case things go wrong. I'm still recovering from Nagini's attack, and, while Borgin may not be the most skilled wizard in the world... My magic isn't as strong as usual." He admitted, and Harry was surprised at his frankness. He knew Snape hated showing weakness or relying on anyone. "If things get ugly, I'll be grateful to have the mighty Harry Potter, banisher of dark lords, to help me."

Harry controlled the urge to roll his eyes; he was aware that Snape always needed to use his sarcasm after showing the slightest vulnerability.

"Besides," Snape continued, "I had also thought that an experience like this might help you in your development as an Auror."

"Sorry?"

"It's not all brute strength and epic duels, Potter. If you're going to be any good at your job, in many cases you will have to investigate, shut up, and listen. Most of the time being smart, knowing how to observe and asking the right questions is the best way to proceed..."

Harry stirred, somewhat uncomfortably. He was extremely grateful that Snape was thinking about his future, that he wanted to teach him and help him prepare for it. He was already learning a lot from the man during Potions tutoring and he would never have imagined that one day he would be able to see him in action as well, acting as a spy. Despite that, with the mention of his possible job, his stomach twisted painfully.

"Sir..." He said, unable to contain himself. "I appreciate the thought, it's just... Actually, I... I'm not so sure I want to be an Auror anymore."

He had said that sentence quietly, averting his gaze, suddenly embarrassed. It was something he had wanted since his fifth year, and everyone had smiled hearing it. As if it was obvious. His parents had fought dark wizards, and so had his godfather, his mentors... Harry himself had done it since he was eleven, facing Quirrell, the Basilisk, the Dementors, making it through the Triwizard Tournament, surviving battles against Death Eaters, against Voldemort himself... And, finally, he had fulfilled the prophecy, defeating the Dark Lord. It seemed the way to go, he was destined for it, everyone agreed. But, lately, since the end of the War especially, Harry no longer had that certainty that being an Auror was what he wanted to do. He knew that there were still Death Eaters on the loose, and that he would probably see another dark and powerful wizard rise in his lifetime. But he was tired; tired of suffering, of being in danger, of struggling to survive. Perhaps, in that moment, what he needed was something different, to let the Ministry and the adult, trained Aurors, deal with it all.

"Potter?" Snape called out, snapping him out of those thoughts. "Why did you make that face? Why did you say it like someone had died? What difference does it make if that's not what you want? You'll find something else."

"But..."

"But what? Where there some people who presumed that the Savior of the magical world would single-handedly put every dark wizard in Britain behind bars?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "That expected one kid to do the work of hundreds of adult wizards, as per usual? Well, that's their problem. Not yours. And they'll figure it out without your help. You don't owe anyone anything, Potter."

Harry swallowed hard, trying not to show that, with a couple of sentences, Snape had lifted a weight on his chest that he hadn't really noticed until then.

"I mean it, Potter." Snape added, misinterpreting his silence. "A little over a month ago your expectations for the future were to die at the hands of the Dark Lord, without the slightest chance of survival. Now, you can do what you want with your life. And," He added, with immense anger, "Merlin help the Auror who wants to blame you for it. I'd sooner marry Gilderoy Lockhart than let some useless Ministry git make you feel bad for not joining his gang of failed old wizards."

It was strange to see Snape angry not because of Harry but, surprisingly, on his behalf. Not knowing what to respond, the boy opened his mouth and said the only thing he could think of:

"Lockhart?"

Two ugly pink spots appeared on Snape's cheeks, who averted his gaze, uncomfortable because of his own outburst.

"It was the worst option I could think of. Potter. Either him, or Umbridge... But that's not the point. Don't try to change the subject." He said, fixing him with his gaze. "The important thing here is that you understand, without any doubt, that you don't have to force yourself to be an Auror if that's not what you want. That you're still very young and can change your mind. And that you have all the time in the world to decide what you'd like to do. Which reminds me..." Snape ran a finger across his thin lips, thinking. "Yes… Perhaps I could... Yes, it would be smart..."

"Sir?"

"How would you feel about talking to Professor McGonagall about this?" Snape asked suddenly, causing disappointment to wash over the boy.

"I, uh... I mean, I wouldn't mind telling her, of course. It's just..." Harry mumbled, nervously. "I... Well, the thing is, I... If I have to talk about it with either one of you… I'd rather it was you, sir." He confessed without looking him in the eye.

Even with his gaze on the floor, Harry could feel Snape studying him. After a few seconds of silence, he finally said:

"I meant talking to her and me, Potter. We have both been Heads of our respective houses, so, together, we would be able to advise you even better than alone."

"Oh, right." Harry nodded, his cheeks flushing, but feeling a pleasant warmth in his chest.

"Besides," Snape continued. "Minerva could offer you different perspective than me. She'll be able to listen to you and offer ideas that I wouldn't have thought of. Not to mention, after so many years at Hogwarts, she has a wide variety of contacts. Contacts that could get you a job or even an internship, if that's what you're looking for."

Harry nodded, calmer to see that Snape wasn't trying to pass the burden of having to deal with his future to McGonagall.

"Sounds great, sir." He said, sincerely. "Really, thank you so much for taking care of this."

Snape waved a hand, trying to show indifference.

"Don't thank me, Potter." He said. "I'm sure you're not the only one of your classmates who doesn't know what to do with their future anymore. The War will have changed a lot of minds. It's normal."

"I suppose..." Harry said, without showing what he was really thinking. The fact that Snape wasn't going out of his way to help any of them. Only him, Harry. A strange feeling spread through his body, as his lips curved into a small smile. While it was true that over the past few weeks he had talked to the professor about his future, what Snape was proposing now was something far greater. He was showing initiative for Harry, taking responsibility for him, caring, as Sirius would have done had he still been alive. As Lily and James would have... Swallowing with emotion, Harry could hear Snape speaking again.

"...I'll talk to Minerva about meeting with her one day of next week, alright?"

Harry nodded, still with that warmth inside him.

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"Well, matter settled, then... Now, how about we focus on why we're here, Potter?"

Harry suddenly remembered the impending visit to Borgin and Burkes, which had completely disappeared from his mind the past few minutes.

"Yes, sir. "He said, squaring his shoulders and checking that his wand was still in his trouser pocket. "We can go. I'm ready."

"I hope so. But, before that, we should get a couple of things straight. First of all, you will enter the store with me and keep an eye on Borgin. Make sure that, if things go badly, he is not going to try to hex me. But that's it, Potter. You will not do anything else unless absolutely necessary. Understood?" He asked, piercing Harry with his back eyes.

The boy nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Remember, Potter, you must stick to your role and let me do the talking. Keep your temper under control. Don't act suspiciously, don't react to anything you hear. No matter what it is, no matter what Borgin says... Or me."

"Sir?"

"To get information I'm going to have to act like a Death Eater, Potter. This, naturally, involves saying things I disagree with and would not say otherwise. So, try not to react as you normally would - do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." Said Harry, somewhat annoyed that Snape felt the need to explain that to him. He wasn't an idiot; he had already figured that the man would have to act like one of Voldemort's followers. He wasn't going to protest or get mad at him for it. Though, come to think of it, it would feel odd and strange to see him acting like a Death Eater again. More so considering how convincing Snape had always been as a dark wizard. A small part of Harry had to admit that, after more than a month of befriending and getting to know the real Potions Master, it would be hard to see him like that again, even if he knew it was all a lie. Realizing this, his annoyance disappeared, and he mentally thanked Snape for that warning, for being able to prepare himself for what he was about to witness.

"Right." Snape continued. "Then the second thing I wanted to tell you is that, obviously, I won't be able to call you by your name. So, we'll have to think of a new one."

"A new one, sir?"

"Yes. I can't keep calling you 'Potter' in front of Borgin, can I?"

Harry swallowed.

"No, of course not."

"Well then, can you think of a last name that's going to be easy for you to remember? Or shall I suggest one?"

Harry shook his head, but suddenly a word popped into his mind.

"Evans!" He exclaimed, causing Snape to flinch.

"Evans?" He muttered, and his mouth twitched oddly, as if he was struggling to pronounce that word. "I suppose... I suppose there wouldn't be a problem." Snape cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, I don't think he... I don't think Borgin knew your mother's... your mother's last name."

Harry noted the difficulty with which Snape spoke those sentences and, for an instant, wondered if it would have been a mistake to suggest it. He was aware that, up to that point, they had not spoken much about Lily. Partly because Harry had wanted to respect the professor's privacy. And partly because he didn't quite know how to start that conversation.

"Sir? If it's a problem I can pick another one." Said the boy, aware that this was a very delicate subject.

"No. No, it's not a problem." Snape took a deep breath. "You just surprised me, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure, Pott... Evans." Snape corrected himself "Evans." He repeated, and this time the name sounded more natural.

Hearing it, something in Harry's chest fluttered, like a bird taking flight. He was proud to be a Potter and, even though that would never change and he cherished the name his father had given him, everyone seemed to forget that he was also an Evans. And, since Aunt Petunia had given up on being anything other than a Dursley, that meant that Harry was the only one left. Hearing his mother's surname, having someone use it on him, reminded him of this fact and, at that revelation, emotions fluttered through the boy. Remembering those red-haired people he had seen in the mirror of Erised, a sad smile spread across his face, and Harry had to take a deep breath, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of longing. He had never been so aware as in that moment that he, Harry, was the legacy that Lily, James, and all those who had come before had left in the world. With that reality throbbing in his chest, the boy swallowed hard and looked ahead at Snape, who was watching him intently.

"Everything all right?" The Potions Master asked him, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Harry nodded quickly, though he still felt the flutter of emotion inside him.

"Yes, yes. All good." He said, trying to regain his composure. "It's just... That name..." He didn't finish the sentence, but Snape understood.

"I know." He said simply, and a veil of sadness appeared in his dark eyes. "Look, Potter, if you want to, we can find another one, no problem."

"No! No, this one's fine." Harry said quickly. "I like it. I want to use it."

Snape searched his face for something, frowning slightly. Finally, after a few seconds, he must have found it, because he tilted his head and said:

"All right. If you're sure, then we will use it.

"Thank you, sir."

Snape lowered his head, and then looked around, at the alley that had been empty since they had arrived.

"Well, having cleared that up… I think we should get going." He pulled his wand from one of his cloak pockets. "Lumos." He said, and the light illuminated the dark cobblestones of Knockturn Alley. "Ready?"

Harry focused his gaze on the stairs in front of them, full of shadows despite the wand's light. Nervousness had begun to bubble up inside him again, but he tried to keep it at bay and forced his face to show focus and confidence.

"Yes, I am."

"Good." Snape said. "Then let's go pay our dear friend Borgin a visit."

Eyes combing the darkness in front of him, the Potions Master began to descend into the depths of Knockturn Alley. Harry drew his own wand and then took a deep breath, before walking down the stairs after the man, his heart pounding.