Ancient Magician (Severus x Reader)

Chapter 51: Home

Today was the day I finally made up my mind to return to the one place that had been my childhood home. The Hog's Head Inn.

It wasn't pretty, not by anyone's standards. The windows never quite shut right, and the sign above the door creaked like it was complaining about the wind every other second. The pub floor was stained in places that no amount of scrubbing ever fixed, and there was a permanent smell of smoke, damp wool, and firewhisky clinging to the walls like ivy. But gods, I loved that place.

I loved it in the way you love a lopsided cake your dad makes for your birthday—slightly burnt on one edge, uneven frosting, but made with so much heart that you'd never want anything else. It was home, in all its dusty, stubborn, beloved chaos.

More than that, it was our home.

My father, Aberforth Dumbledore, ran the Hog's Head with the same gruff tenderness he used to raise me. That man... Merlin. He acted like the world owed him a brawl and a drink, but when it came to me, he turned into the world's biggest softie. He'd never admit it, of course. But I knew it—in the way he always made sure my tea had just enough honey, or how he'd sit me on the bar counter when I was little, telling me ridiculous tales about goats and goblins.

He was the sort who'd fight the whole world with a scowl on his face, and I clutched behind his back. And I missed him something fierce.

So, I packed light—just a satchel over my shoulder, snug with the essentials: a clean set of robes, my wand, a few healing draughts in case of bumps on the road. Nothing fancy. Just enough.

The sky was still bleeding orange and gold when I slipped out of the Potter manor, my boots crunching softly on the grass as I made my way toward the quiet little corner near the courtyard where I planned to Apparate. I'd timed it just right—or so I thought. The castle was still sleeping, tucked under its warm blanket of dawn. I figured I could vanish without a sound, no drama, no long goodbyes.

But I should've known better.

"Oi! Y/n! Where d'you think you're off to, sneaking around like that?"

Sirius's voice split through the morning calm like a blade, sharp and unmistakably Sirius. I froze mid-step, the strap of my bag tightening under my fingers. I didn't need to turn to know that familiar mischief was probably written all over his face.

Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder and gave him a half-hearted smile. "Blimey, good morning to you too, Black."

Behind him, Severus emerged from the shadows with that familiar look on his face—tight-lipped, dark brows drawn low, arms folded across his chest. His gaze locked onto me like I was some runaway student about to do something terribly stupid.

"Y/n," he said quietly, "you're leaving again?"

Before I could answer, Remus stepped up beside them, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his threadbare jumper, worry etched into every line of his gentle face. "Wait—what's going on? Where are you headed this early?"

I blew out a breath, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear, trying to force a calm I didn't quite feel. "Didn't I mention this already? I'm just heading home for a few days. It's not a big deal, really."

"You told Lily and James," Remus pointed out, frowning slightly. "Not us."

"Well, I figured someone would pass the message along," I said with a shrug, attempting lightheartedness I didn't feel. "I didn't think it needed a whole announcement."

"You didn't think we might want to hear it from you?" Severus's voice cut through, low and laced with something dangerously close to hurt. "We're not a pair of gossiping portraits. We're your friends, not messengers."