26

Chapter Two: Familiar Faces and Places

The only sound that Harry heard was the sound of his feet connecting with the sidewalk followed closely his cane. He immersed himself in the offbeat cadence, counting each step as he fought the urge to give into nostalgia. He reached sixty-three by the time he arrived at a corner and turned. The street was very familiar as were most of the other streets in London; however, not all held such painful memories. He could see his failure again, playing over and over in his head.

Harry pulled up the corners of his trench coat's collar, bringing them closer to his face. He almost laughed at himself for doing so, but habits that had formed after years on the run were not about to disappear in a few seconds. Idly, he ran his fingers through his dark, curly brown hair. 'At least, I will have a few days to grow accustom to my new face,' Harry thought. 'Before Hogwarts.'

With his free hand, Harry clenched the note that Snape had handed to him, which held the address where he was to meet the disgraced potions master. As much as he loathed the man, he still had his uses.

Stopping in his tracks, Harry stared at two men, who he instantly knew were Aurors. He had two options kill them before they even saw him or return the way he came, either way he had to be fast. Harry wanted to slap himself. 'Act nonchalant and walk right passed them… you're not Harry Marvolo to them.' Harry plastered a smile on his face and walked steadily forward, nodding his head to the two Aurors. The two exchanged glances, perhaps, surprised to have been recognized, but they made no attempts to stop his progress.

So he continued with his back straight. Despite the memories, it was good to be home. He turned down another street to avoid the spot where his life had fallen into shambles and maneuvered through the crowd of people, who were shopping with their children for those last minute school purchases.

"It seems so long, Harry…" Harry froze, looking over his shoulder half expecting to see him standing there. Pain shot through the arm that bore the mark of an equal. His mind was disquieted as images of his father's fortress rose from the depth of his subconscious from the sepulcher he hid them in. The memories of fear seemed fresh. "Loyalty…"

"Sir, are you alright."

Harry jumped gasping for breathe, trying to answer the man beside him. "Prove to me that you still understand the meaning of loyalty."

"Sir, you need to be in a hospital." A panicked voice said shrilly, grating against his frayed nerves. Harry jerked away from grasping hands.

"No!" He shouted. He broke through the crowd, distancing himself from the man… one present and one that now belonged solely to the past. He kept running, until his steps grew sloppy and his breath was ragged. Huffing, he came to a stop, using a nearby wall for support. His tired brown eyes read a street sign that was feet in front of him. 'Snape's apartment is down this street.'

"And so it begins."

The pain eased, and Harry realized he had been crying. Why else would his face be this wet. Wiping the offending droplets, Harry walked onto what almost appeared to be an abandoned street. He silently hoped that Snape would not notice his reddened eyes; that would be one of the last things he would want. He lifted his trench coat sleeve one more time only to pause. 'The slimy git is bound to notice anyways.'

Harry glanced up reading the address numbers before stopping in front of a number 213. The building itself was rundown. The upper level windows appeared to be sealed, while the lower level windows needed a good wash. The brick façade was a dingy brown. The green shutters appeared to have been white at one time. 'It suits him,' Harry thought. 'But the dungeon did more.'

Using his cane, Harry pounded on the peeling door and waited. Beyond the door, he heard faint footsteps and voices. 'He's not alone… unless he talks to himself.'

"Ah, and who might you be," Snape's voice came from behind the door. No doubt he was peering through the little peephole.

"Gianni Adamo at your service." Harry bowed slightly.

"Do you have proof that you are who you say?"

Harry smirked, hoping he looked as demonic as he felt. "You can either allow me entry, or I will bath your porch in your own blood… it does look like it needs a new coat of paint."

Silence followed. Finally, the sound of bolts rattling made its way to Harry's ears. The door opened, and the sight of Snape greeted him. "So it is you, Potter. Hurry inside."

Snape moved out of his way, allowing him entry. Harry's eyes swept over the sparse entryway which appeared to lead into a darken sitting room. Snape brushed passed him toward that room, and he followed. Once inside the room, the potions master waved him to a seat before taking another across from his own. Harry shifted in the seat, but found that no matter what position he sat in, there was always a spring to bother him.

"I have good news," Snape began. "After pulling some of my remaining strings, I have managed to secure one interview with the Inquisitor of the First Reconstruction of Hogwarts for a certain Gianni Adamo, which will be followed by a brief interview with the Headmistress of Hogwarts."

"When will this be?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

"Tomorrow… bright and early at Hogsmeade in The Three Broomsticks." Snape interlaid his fingers. "You will apparate to Hogsmeade. However, before that… we will need to do something about your wand as every Auror in Britain knows its signature."

"You needn't worry about that," he returned, leaning back into the chair. "I have already masked the wand and its signature. They won't recognize it as my wand."

"Impressive."

"What can I expect from the grand Inquisitor?"

"Questions… more so than normal. I am the one, who recommended you to him, after all." Snape paused. In the silence, Harry thought he heard another voice muttering indecipherable words. "Malfoy only trusts me so far. At least in his mind, it is inconceivable that I would contact you… that will be to our advantage."

Harry stiffened slightly, hearing the voice again. "There is someone else in this house."

Snape smiled grimly. "Yes, there is… though I doubt you would find him much to your tastes. He is, after all, the creature that put you where you are today."

Harry stared blankly at Snape. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, you have never heard the whole story have you, Mr. Potter." Snape's eyes glinted, seeming to take pleasure in his words. "Have you always assumed that you simply appeared on the Dark Lord's doorstep? There was a traitor in the Order of the Phoenix's midst, who saw fit to bring you to the Dark Lord. He is a tortured individual… haunted by specters of his past. Guilt has driven him mad quite sometime ago. He was left in my care, and for whatever reason I have kept him since."

"Doesn't it sound familiar, Harry… you are slowly be-." Harry pulled himself away from the voice, ignoring the burning sensation that shot up his arm. "I need to rest before tomorrow."

"So soon?" Snape asked. "It is still early in the evening."

Harry glared at him. "I have had a long journey."

"You're room is just down the hall to the left." A thin smile spread across Snape's face. "The one that doesn't have muttering behind it."

Harry walk brusquely passed the slimy git and into the hallway. He tried desperately to calm his frantic mind. He paused before a door, and the insane ravings of the being behind it reached his ears. The being's words were indecipherable, though Harry swore he heard the phrase 'my Lord' muttered repeatedly. "Tell me, Harry, do you hate what I have done to you. Do you long for a normal life?"

"No," Harry whispered to the door before moving to his own room.

Light bled through the uneven blinds. He blinked, and then rolled over only to sigh in defeat a moment later. A sudden knock on the door caused him to jump into a sitting position with his sheets falling down into his lap. There was no wake up call, and the person continued on down the hall, his feet echoing eerily. Harry pushed the sheets down, stretching. He removed his best robes from his bag and quickly dressed. He pulled roughly at the fabric, straightening the wrinkles in the front. Once satisfied, Harry grabbed his cane and wand and exited the small dingy room. He paused, noting a cracked mirror. Using its reflection, he carefully returned the glamour charm. With a flicker of his wand, his eyes changed into a deep brown, his lips grew longer, his face became more like oval, and his unruly black hair turned a curly brown. "Tell me, Harry, have you found what you were searching for before that mirror."

His throat constricted, his eyes wandering to the closed door that held the rodent. Gritting his teeth, Harry continued down the hallway, finding his way to the sitting room.

"Ah, Signore Adamo, you're awake." Snape's voice echoed. The former potions master sat in the same chair that he had on the previous night. "Unfortunately, there is no time for breakfast… but that is what happens when you oversleep. I would hurry to Hogsmeade, arriving late will hardly impress Malfoy or McGonagall. Remember you will need both of their approval, if you wish to get in."

The younger man clicked his cane against the hard floor. He looked to the hallway before glancing over his shoulder at Snape. "You only know of the six Horcruxes."

"Horcruxes?" Snape murmured. "And what would bring those up?"

"Nothing." His knuckles paled as his grasp on the cane increased. "I will be on my way."

He ignored the sneer he knew was on Snape's face and continued to the front door. The doorknob was surprisingly cold, but then again Snape seemed to enjoy keeping his home at the same consistency of the old dungeon he had occupied in his years at Hogwarts. When Harry pushed the door open, the sun accosted him, forcing him to blink several times. After his vision cleared, Harry noted that the small street was as vacant as it had been the evening before hand. It seemed no one was crazy enough to travel the street when there were better kept ones. His fingers reached into his robes, grabbing the wand concealed within. Removing it, Harry apparated. His stomach lurched as the familiar sensation of disorientation greeted him. With a crack, he landed in Hogsmeade. The Wizarding town appeared to be very much the way it had been before his father had attacked it during the war. Harry was not surprised, after all time did go by.

Returning his wand to his robe, Harry walked down the street. As he walked Harry looked at the various people as they milled. Very few paid him any mind, though an occasional passerby would incline their heads. In return, Harry would bow his own head. He reached The Three Broomsticks and quickly entered. His eyes scanned the room, searching for his target. The smile on his face tightened when he saw Malfoy, sitting at a far table that was well out of the way of common people. Exhaling, Harry approached the table, keeping his strides even. The pub was nearly empty given the early hour, making it suitable for an interview. When he was only a couple of feet away, Lucius Malfoy looked up. His cold eyes ran over Harry's appearance. Harry kept his face straight, trying to determine what was occurring in the older man's mind. However, Malfoy's face remained a blank slate.

"Gianni Adamo?" He did not even bother to rise even after Harry had nodded his head. "Good. Please take a seat."

Harry took the offered seat. "I was under the impression that the Headmistress would be here as well."

Lucius waved his hand idly. "That will occur after our own meeting."

"Of course."

"So, Mr. Adamo, you are applying to all our openings," Malfoy drawled. "You believe that you are equally qualified for each of these positions?"

"I have done many things in my life time." Harry smiled, revealing his teeth. He noted a smirk appear on the elder man's face. "Some you would never guess… but those are of little consequence. What really matters is I have previous experience teaching from charms to the Dark Arts."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "The Dark Arts?"

'Nothing you wouldn't know… though perhaps a few,' Harry said in his mind. "Of course! How better to defend against the Dark Arts than to study them. But from what I've heard, this is also a shared theory between the two of us. After all, you are one of the main proponents for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's fall. The Wizarding World owes you a great debt of gratitude."

Lucius merely waved his hand as if he were batting an annoying fly. His eyes, however, betrayed the pleasure Harry's words brought. "You are too kind."

Harry looked up to see a waitress, approaching the table.

"Can I get you something, sir?"

"Get whatever you want, it's on me," Malfoy said.

He, in return, tipped his head to the former Death Eater before telling the waitress: "Get me something cold."

The woman's mouth opened, her hand tugged awkwardly at her robes. "Sir?"

"Get me whatever you have," Harry said, winking at her. She blushed and quickly returned to the counter.

"So, Mr. Adamo, what interested you about Hogwarts?"

"Hmm," Harry murmured. "Its proud history and its ideals." He knew he treaded a thin line.

Malfoy leaned forward. "Hogwarts has many ideals."

'And he takes the bait.'

"What would you expect…?"

"Mr. Adamo?"

Harry jerked to attention, noting that both Malfoy and the waitress, who had just returned with a pewter mug, were looking at him with concerned looks. "Sorry, I was just remembering something, but it isn't important." He smiled at the waitress, gratefully taking the drink. "Thank-you."

"You look rather pale."

Harry brought the mug to his lips, eagerly swallowing the cool liquid. "It's nothing." He paused. "I hear you inspire to attain the position of Minister of Magic. I wish you luck in that endeavor. I dare say that you will bring much needed changes… especially in these days of rebuilding."

"Yes, Yes." Malfoy cleared his throat. "But first the education system is in need of reconstruction. After Dumbledore's sudden and tragic death, it was left in a state of disarray. He was very much a tyrant when it came to the runnings of Hogwarts." Malfoy ran his hand over the silver snake head that tipped his cane. "I believe you could be quite helpful in making these changes occur."

"For the common good," Harry replied smoothly. "What of the new Headmistress… I hear that she is of Dumbledore's stock. I cannot picture her moving along with these changes."

"She will drag her heels at every step of the process."

"The elderly are seldom with the times." Harry said lowly, so only Malfoy would hear.

Malfoy snorted, looking over his shoulder at the door that had just opened. As he rose from the table, he continued. "My time with you is over, however, I will be putting your name at the top of the list."

"Molto grazie."

Harry took a sip from the mug, glad that it prevented him from removing his wand. Death would be far too kind for Malfoy. Over the rim of the mug, he watched McGonagall walk to the table, pointedly ignoring Malfoy as she did so. She looked older than he remember, her hair almost completely gray now. The greatest change appeared to be in her eyes, which seemed harder than they had at the time Harry had briefly stayed at Hogwarts.

"Signora-."

"Let's cut the pleasantries," she said sharply. She did not even bother to sit. "I have read your documents… and heard that you were personally recommended to Malfoy through a source that will remain anonymous. Tell me, who your patron is, and what Malfoy has to do with you!"

"I have no patron." He paused, maintaining eye contact. "And as for Malfoy… I could careless about him. I am merely in this country to teach, and to soak up the atmosphere."

The old woman's face did not relax. "Your resume is too perfect. There is something hidden behind it."

Harry laughed inwardly. "And if I were to believe anything that a certain Rita Skeeter writes… I would believe that Albus Dumbledore was friends with dark wizard named Grindelwald. One might say that he was hiding something pretty damning behind a pretty resume." He watched her hands curl around the chair's back. "But I can reassure you, Signora, I am not hiding anything so horrible… merely my vagrant history. I love to travel, what can I say?"

Her lips compressed. "What are you're thoughts on Malfoy?"

"I have many thoughts regarding Signore Malfoy… and most are not too flattering." He kept his face neutral. "You have nothing to fear from me in that arena, Signora."

He fought the urge to twitch under her piercing gaze.

"That remains to be seen…" She released her grip on the chair. "We will reach our decision within two weeks. You will be informed either way." She turned. "Good-bye Mr. Adamo."

Harry looked morosely at the orange liquid that remained of his drink. 'That was one speedy interview.' He took another sip before deciding he needed a stiff one before he could even think of returning to that dingy flea infested building of Snape's.