Chapter Text
Severus cried out at the feelings of abandonment, aloneness and longing welling up in his chest. He sat up in his bed, breathing harshly and covered in sweat. The waves of emotional pain almost hurt physically. Severus watched the clock on the bedside table.
2.17 am.
Severus groaned and let himself fall back into the cushions. It was much to early to rise, but he didn't think he could fall asleep again.
That was probably one of the weirdest dreams he'd had in a while. He tried to recollect what it was about. He remembered walking through the castle halls, passing children on his way to ... somewhere. It was obvious he'd dreamed of Hogwarts, but those kids' faces didn't ring a bell. Which was strange, Severus never forgot a face. Severus frowned and turned on his side, mentally walking through the collection of students he'd taught. Apparently, the little pests made a great soporific, because five minutes later, Severus was sleeping again.
And didn't notice the pair of huge eyes watching him from behind the window curtains.
It was almost two days later, while weeding the garden, that he felt The Itch. It had been years, three to be exact, that he'd last felt The Itch. The You're-Being-Watched-With-Evil-Intentions-Itch. Paying attention to that itch had saved his life many times, so Severus kneeled into the flowerbed he was weeding and surreptitiously glanced around. Nothing. Severus frowned and kept weeding absentmindedly, most of his attention on his surroundings.
"Just hand me the oil, would you?" Severus said impatiently.
The sales-girl looked at him with a hurt expression on her face but handed him both the oil and the rest of his purchases readily enough.
Severus felt a small stab of guilt, but brushed it aside and walked out of the shop. It had been three days, and Severus felt like he'd gone mad. The Itch kept him company day and night, but he never saw a reason for it. He'd even dug out his wand from where he'd locked it away. He was exhausted and irritated and couldn't wait to be home. He'd almost reached his front porch, when he more felt than saw movement behind him. He tried to turn around, but was hit by the stunner, before he could finish the movement.
"Shit," he said, and his world went dark.
"I know you're awake." A deep masculine voice said.
Severus stopped pretending to be still under the influence of the stunner and looked around. He was lying on his own couch, with his attacker sitting quite relaxed on a chair in front of him.
The boy, no definitely a man, in front of him was quit handsome and broad shouldered, wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a t-shirt that left not much to the imagination. His dark hair curled wildly around his ears, making Severus' fingers itch with a sudden need to stroke it.
"Potter," Severus meant to say it like a swear word, but form some reason it left his throat like a breathy moan.
Severus' face flushed in embarrassment.
Potter grinned, his too green eyes dancing in his tanned face.
"Hello Headmaster," Potter said cheerfully and leaned to the left to make a cup of tea. "Tea?"
Severus blinked, just now noticing the full spread cluttering the table in front of him. A tea service including sandwiches and pastries. A flowery tea service he didn't own.
"Where did that come from?" he asked while trying to sit up. His hands were bound in front him with plastic zip ties, apparently reinforced with magic.
Severus futilely tried to use his wandless magic to loosen them, "and could you untie me?" he asked, quite politely, considering the fact Potter had attacked him and invaded his house.
"From Hogwarts of course," Potter answered, "and no. Not after all the trouble we went through trying to capture you unawares."
Against better judgement, Severus felt intrigued by the elaborate scheming. And pissed off at being treated like some wild animal.
"And why exactly, did you feel the need to capture me unawares?" For someone who had to look up at Potter (and when did that happen?) he managed quite well to look down his nose at the annoying pest.
Potter flashed him another grin and handed him a cup of tea.
"Drink this Headmaster, it will make you feel better."
Severus didn't want to feel better. He wanted answers. Nevertheless, he put the cup at his lips and took a sip.
Potters eyes followed his movements like a hawk.
Severus licked his lips, the tea was quite good. Potters complete attention on his movements made him squirm uncomfortable.
"Well?" he almost barked to break the tension.
Potters face took on an earnest expression.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said, taking the cup out of Severus hands and setting it on the table, "A week ago, Headmistress Minerva Mcgonnagall died in her sleep."
Severus gasped, he felt like he'd been hit with a hammer. Mcgonnagall was a fixture in his life. She was there when he'd entered the wizarding world at age eleven, and had been the last person he saw when he'd left it three years ago. He wasn't friends with the woman, but he'd respected her.
"How?" Severus had to clear his throat from the lump that had formed, before he could ask the question.
"Her heart gave out. Poppy said it happened quickly. The war has put to much strain on her."
Potter patted his arm in comfort.
And when exactly had the menace managed to lay his hands on him? Severus' sadness drained away to be replaced by anger. He brushed Potter's hand off.
"And you needed three days of stalking me, attacking me and tying me up to be able to deliver this news?" he asked harshly, "What's wrong with the post-owl service?"
"You can't send an owl to someone who is dead." Potter answered unperturbed and poured himself another cup of tea, "quite a clever bit of magic that. Only it doesn't fool house-elves. Certainly not Hogwarts' house-elves."
Potter paused to take a sip.
"And I needed to tie you up to make sure you wouldn't bolt after delivering another bit of news." Here Potter looked him square in the eyes, "Headmaster."
"Shit." Severus said.
"Quite. But I'd try to clean up the language," Potter said drily, "Impressionable young minds and all that."
"No. No way! I've left all that behind three years ago. I like my life here just fine thank you."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice. Hogwarts is very persistent."
"Hogwarts can kiss my..." Potter clapped a hand over Severus' mouth.
"Hush, Headmaster, no need to become vulgar." Potter almost purred.
Severus scowled and jerked his head back.
"The British wizarding world believes me to be dead. It is better that way, there is too much resentment and anger. I'll be target practice for every witch or wizard with a grudge."
"After the temper tantrum Hogwarts threw when the Board wanted to appoint a new Headmaster, the ministry knows you're alive." Potter answered patiently, "and don't worry your pretty head, we'll protect you, Headmaster." Potter said sunnily.
Severus scowled some more. Pretty, bah! The nerve of that man!
"Who's we?"
"The house-elves, Hogwarts, and me of course," Potter paused a moment and grinned again, "your Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, and Defense Master of Hogwarts."
Severus dropped his head despairingly in his still bound hands.
"Ready to go Headmaster?" Potter stood up decisively.
"No. I. Am. Not. Going. To. Britain." Severus said adamantly and emphasized this statement by trying to hit Potter's face with his bound hands. Who ducked, of course. Still grinning.
"Then I'll just have to carry you." He said brightly, and proceeded to do just that.