"So, Professor Snape seems different now-A little more mellow."

Harry chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess he is- in some ways that is."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "So, why are you helping my father?"

"I don't look at it like I'm helping your father. I look at it like I'm helping your mother."

Draco looked at him suspiciously. "And just why would you want to help my mother?

Harry pulled his arm back, and the end of the pool cue hit the ball; it ricocheted off the corner of the table and rolled into the farthest hole.

"You mean your mother didn't tell you what she did?"

Draco shook his head.

"Didn't you think it rather odd that I suddenly came back to life after Hagrid came back to Hogwarts, carrying my supposedly lifeless body in his arms?"

"I was a little preoccupied at the time," Draco said acerbically.

"Voldemort doesn't make mistakes like that, does he? He sure the hell would have made sure that I was really dead before he went ahead and taunted everyone at Hogwarts like that, don't you think?"

"What's your point Potter?" Draco said impatiently.

"My point is that Voldemort asked your mother to make sure that I was really dead."

Draco's eyes widened. He wasn't a fool; his mother had risked her life for Potter.

"I know what you're thinking. Your mother didn't risk her life for me. She cared only about you, and whether you were safe. That's all she cared about, and if I was the key to saving you, then so be it."

Draco sighed. "You don't have to spell it out for me. I know that I owe you my life-Even if you did put my father in prison."

"C'mon Malfoy, I know that you care about your father-even if he is a right git, but I think that your father still got off rather easy. Five years in prison is nothing to scoff at; he could very well have spent the rest of his life in there, or worse yet, been sentenced to be kissed."

"I know that Potter. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be indebted to you?"

"Yes I do actually. You saved my arse with Bellatrix remember? So, consider that we're even now."

Draco nodded. He knew damned well that what he'd done for Potter was only to save his own hide. Draco wasn't sure at what point he'd figured out that he was on the wrong side; perhaps when the Dark Lord had ordered him to kill Dumbledore. As much of a bastard that he knew that he'd been towards Potter and many of the other Gryffindors, Draco was not a murderer. He had been desperate to prove to the Dark Lord that he was loyal, but that was only to save his father and protect his mother. He had never wanted to kill the Headmaster, and as angry as he'd been with Severus, he knew that he owed Severus more than just his own life. He couldn't imagine the burden of guilt that he'd be carrying right now, had he carried out the deed that the Dark Lord had given him. Oh yes, Draco did have a conscience, contrary to what many thought.

"Draco…Harry, time for supper," Severus' deep voice called from the dining room.

XXX

"So Mr. Potter…or is your name Snape now?" Narcissa asked.

"Actually you can just call me Harry if you like, but I have added Snape onto my name, so both are actually correct. I rather like the idea of carrying Severus' name, but I also wish to honour my other father, James Potter."

Narcissa nodded. "That is very commendable Mr. Po-Harry. Both of your fathers are, and were good, honourable men."

"Narcissa, James Potter may have been a good and honourable man, but I would describe myself as neither good nor honourable." Severus said.

"Nonsense," Narcissa said hotly. "You have a rather skewed view of yourself Severus. You are a good and brave man."

"Honestly Narcissa, I've done horrible things in my life that I can never earn forgiveness for."

"No one is debating that you have perhaps done things you regret Severus, but forgiveness begins with forgiving oneself."

"Mrs. Malfoy is right you know," Harry said earnestly. "I've been trying to tell my father that it is time that he let go of the past and forgive himself. He seems to think that he's condemned to hell forever, because of his past sins."

"And my son seems to think that any sin can be forgiven, no matter how horrible the crime one has committed; he has this rather naïve and childish view that one can simply wish away their sins and others will forget the horrible things that they've done."

Harry glared at his father. "And my father seems to think that I'm still a child, and still treats me as though I'm eleven-years-old. And my father still has his head up his arse, and—"

Severus glared right back at his son. "And my son needs to learn to act his age and watch his mouth when there is a lady present," he said sternly.

Draco turned to his mother with a crooked grin. "It's rather like watching a Quidditch match, isn't it?" He took another sip of wine. "It will be interesting to see who wins the match; what do you think Mother?"

Both father and son turned to glare at Draco, who only raised his glass in toast to them both.

"I think perhaps that you should refrain from further comment Draco," she said with a hint of amusement.

XXX

"Well, that went rather well, don't you think?" Harry asked his father later, as he flopped into the large armchair in front of the fire.

Severus swirled his brandy around in his glass and stared at his son. He shook his head.

"If one likes a day filled with Christmas carollers banging on your door, interrupting your peace and singing sappy Christmas Carols, having to endure my home and hearth being invaded by droves of well-wishers and Gryffindors forcing me to affix a permanent smile upon my face, being encouraged to stuff my face with sugary sweets that will rot my teeth, spend exorbitant amounts of galleons on meaningless baubles, then yes it went rather well," Severus sneered.

Harry grinned. "C'mon Dad. I know that you enjoyed it. I know that you can't admit it because of your evil potions master image that you're trying to uphold and everything."

Severus sputtered with indignation.

"Image? I'll have you know that I have worked hard to cultivate my irascible disposition."

"I believe it."

XXX

Severus placed his hands lightly on his son's shoulders and felt a swell of pride rush over him as he stared at his son's reflection in the mirror—at the handsome young man with the emerald-green eyes, so much like his mother's.

Those emerald eyes now met his in the mirror.

Do you think I look okay?" Harry asked anxiously, while fiddling with his tie.

"Harry," Severus said, firmly turning his son around to face him. "You look fine—You look more than fine," he amended.

Severus' long fingers expertly arranged his tie.

Severus gently lifted Harry's chin up with his finger. "What has got you so agitated son?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. I just feel like I don't deserve the Order of Merlin. I mean…" Harry's voice trembled, "so many people died because of me. I don't deserve to be honoured."

Severus shook his head.

"I apologise Harry."

Harry crinkled his eyes in confusion. "For what?"

"For misjudging you."

"What do you mean?"

"I made your life a living hell," Severus whispered, "because I thought that you sought out attention and fame, and didn't deserve the praise and accolades that you received."

"I am so sorry Harry. I never properly apologised for that"

"But you were right, don't you see?"

"I have no special powers. I only defeated Voldemort because I had a piece of him inside me-I did nothing special. This whole nonsense about the prophecy—that 'He has powers that the Dark Lord knows not.' It was a whole load of crap."

"Oh Harry. I was so wrong about you. I wish that you could see yourself as others see you-as the selfless caring young man, who thinks nothing of sacrificing himself for others. How could I have ever thought otherwise?"

"I fear that my abuse of you for so many years, and Albus' unrealistic expectations of you, and your relatives' mistreatment of you, have all contributed to your poor sense of self-worth."

"It's okay Dad."

"It's not okay. I made, what should have been the best years of your youth at Hogwarts, a living hell, and all because I thought that you basked in glory and that you were a carbon-copy of James Potter, whom I held a childish grudge over imagined wrongs."

"Look at me Harry."

Harry's eyes flicked up to meet his father's dark gaze.

"You deserve this honour. You have sacrificed your youth , endured pain and suffering because the Dark Lord made it his personal goal to hunt you down, and through all the grief and abuse you've suffered in your young life, you never once became bitter like me. You remained pure and kind and forgiving…like your mother."

Harry blushed. "You make me sound like some kind of saint."

Severus' mouth quirked slightly. "Oh, you are no Saint that is true. You are stubborn and have a fearsome temper, run headlong into danger without a thought to your own personal safety, like to bend the rules-"

"I do not!" Harry protested. "Okay…maybe a little."

Severus held up a finger. "But my point is that you have earned respect and admiration from even those who sought to scorn you, myself included. Do you know how you've done that Harry?"

"No," he whispered.

He placed his hand over Harry's heart. "You showed me what was in here. You displayed immense bravery in the face of enormous odds and never thought twice about what you were sacrificing in the process."

"Dad...please. I really wasn't that brave. In actuality, maybe I was being a coward-"

Severus' dark eyes shadowed with regret. "You could never be a coward son. If anyone is unworthy of this honour tonight...it is I."

"You can't seriously believe that While it's true that you may not have always been kind to me and most times, a downright bastard, you nevertheless always protected my sorry hide, even when I was rushing headlong into danger without a thought to my own safety, as you so often have reminded me throughout the years. Yet, despite being convinced that I was unworthy of my fame, you still protected me, time and time again. And after my fourth year, you went back to spying for the Order, placing your life in terrible danger."

"Harry, I did that out of shame and regret for having revealed the prophecy to the Dark Lord and ultimately being responsible for your mother and Potter's deaths. I was not the altruistic hero that you paint me out to be."

"Look...I can't say that I didn't have those same thoughts myself, and I'm not as all-forgiving as you make me out to be. I've hated your guts many times throughout the years and especially after Sirius' death. I blamed you, but not as much as I blamed myself."

Severus shook Harry lightly by his shoulders. "You are not to blame for Black's death. It is time you accepted that. Black cared about you and would have done anything to protect you. There is only one person to blame for his death, and that is the person truly responsible."

"I think that we are both truly in need of letting go of the past and looking forward to the future. Perhaps we have both been conditioned by our upbringings and circumstances along the way, to always think that we are unworthy of praise or acceptance. It is soon to be a New Year, and I think that it's time that we truly start living in the present and looking forward to the future, instead of harping on the past and our regrets."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Harry turned around and studied his reflection in the mirror. "You know...I think that I like the new me. I mean, I do sometimes miss seeing my old face in the mirror, but my hair is definitely more well-behaved."

"Too bad you weren't," Severus mocked lightly.

Harry grinned. "I like to think that I have character."

Severus smirked. "You certainly do."

"Besides, you've got to admit Dad, that I've kept your life from being too boring all these years. I mean...if I'd been a good little boy, followed all the rules, never had any life-threatening adventures, what stories would you have to tell your grand-children?"

XXX

Ginny took one last critical look at herself in the mirror, pushed back a stray wisp of hair and pinned it up again.

"Ginny…Harry's here." Her father's voice echoed from downstairs.

"Okay. Be there in a minute."

Ginny's stomach swirled with butterflies. It was odd she thought, how though she'd been in love with Harry since the first time she'd laid eyes on him at the tender age of ten-years-old, she still felt that shiver of anticipation at the thought of seeing him again.

She was so proud of Harry-he was her hero...in more ways than one. He was the man that she wanted to be the father of her children. No other man made her heart beat so fast, and whose mere touch made her skin tingle. No other man's kiss could ever feel as sweet on her lips.

No...Harry Potter was the man she'd dreamt about all those years ago when her mother had read Cinder-Witch to her, and he was her handsome prince that had swept her off her feet.

XXX

"Harry," Ginny said breathlessly. "You look so handsome."

And indeed he did, in his dark green robes that matched his emerald-green eyes so perfectly.

"And you look beautiful too," Harry whispered, as he gently placed her midnight blue cloak over her slender shoulders; it matched her silk gown of the same colour.

XXX

Harry's palms were moist, and his heart gave a little flutter. It wasn't all because of his nervousness about the award banquet. No...he couldn't wait to see Ginny again.

How on earth was he going to endure the wait, until he completed his Auror training, and until Ginny graduated from Hogwarts…to make her his wife? It felt like an eternity to wait until they could be together as man and wife.

Harry had waited all his life for someone like Ginny. How could he have been so blind not to notice how what he'd been looking for, had been there all along?

Harry rapped on the weather-beaten door twice, before it opened to reveal Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley's brow furrowed. "Harry? What are you doing back here so soon, and where is Ginny?"

"What do you mean Sir? "I've come to pick up Ginny. Is she ready yet?"

The colour drained from Mr. Weasley's face.

 "Harry…you and Ginny Flooed from here, not ten minutes ago--to the Ministry!"