“I think Hartman’s Standard Defense Spells for the Aspiring Auror is a good book for first years.” Remus suggested, reading the description of the text.

“I think it’s a good book, I agree, but not for first years.”

“Have you read it?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Well…yeah. Have you?”

“Not really.” The werewolf handed Harry the parchment he had been reading. “But it’s gotten rave reviews from other professors who’ve used it over the years. The Salem Witches Institute has been using it with their girls for over a century.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he began to scan the parchment. “The same edition?!”

“Well, no, I don’t think so. I’m quite sure they update their editions whenever a new one comes out. It only makes sense.” Remus cocked his head. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong with it.” Harry shook his head as he handed the paper back to his friend. “I just think the spells in it are a bit complex for first years, is all. Here—” Harry waved a hand and a book came flying across the room to slam against his palm. Sev squealed in delight and began bouncing in his walker at the little display of wandless magic. “Take a look.” He handed the book to Remus. “Personally, I think it’s geared more towards second years than first years.”

“Hmmm…” Remus grunted as he began skimming through the book, stopping every now and then to read an excerpt. “I think you’re right…” The werewolf closed the book and pushed it aside when a thought hit him. He momentarily studied the teenager across from him—who was scribbling something on a piece of parchment—before turning in his seat to inspect the many bookshelves that lined the walls of said teenager’s quarters. What he found, much to his surprise (though it really shouldn’t have been), were rows upon rows upon rows of shelves lined with all manner of defense books, each looking worn and tattered.

The werewolf cleared his throat as he shifted in his seat. “Er…Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you get all these defense books?”

The teenager raised an eyebrow at him and looked around. “Oh…here and there,” he sighed. “Some of them you and Sirius have given me. Most of them are from the Room of Requirement, Diagon Alley…” He muttered something under his breath as he turned away.

“What was the last one, Harry?” Remus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, nothing. Diagon Alley?”

“No, you said something after that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I have great hearing, Harry.”

“Fine! I said Knockturn Alley. Happy? Now can we go back to lesson plans? Please?”

“What in Merlin’s name were you doing in Knockturn Alley?! When was this?!” Remus look scandalized.

Harry sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes. “Remus, it was a long time ago. I don’t even remember when it was. Can we go back to this? Please?!” He gestured towards the parchment scattered all over the table. “I’d like to get through a rough draft of the First Years’ and Second Years’ lesson plans by the end of today, if you don’t mind.”

Remus frowned and studied Harry for a long moment. Then, when he replied, his voice was filled with sadness rather than anger, his words full of self-deprecation rather than rebuke. “You know, Harry, if it had been up to us, Sirius and I would have adopted you and raised you ourselves.” Remus watched as Harry froze in his paper-shifting and averted his eyes towards the far wall. “We would’ve given you a proper home, a proper family. You wouldn’t have had to raise yourself.”

“I don’t think I did a bad job of raising myself.”

“No, you didn’t.” Remus sighed and began studying the table. “You did a rather good job, actually, considering the circumstances. I’m just saying we would’ve been there to help you out if it had been up to us—”

“It doesn’t matter now, Remus.” Harry cut him off mid-rant. “The past is past. We can’t change it. You guys are here for me now. I have a family now. That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, but the family you have now you’re building yourself. No one gave it to you.” Remus grimaced. “You should have been given one, Harry. You deserved one—”

“Remus, stop, please.” Harry ordered gently. “We all have regrets, I know. But dwelling on them isn’t going to change anything about them. Come on, Moony…”  Harry laid a hand on Remus’ shoulder and gave him a half-smile. “If it helps any…” Harry shifted his eyes around the room and then lowered his voice, “…You and Sirius are like fathers to me. You more so than Sirius, but don’t tell him I said that.” Remus snorted and both men began chuckling. “I model everything I do after the two of you. So don’t think for one minute that you made no impact in my life, because you did. It doesn’t matter now that you weren’t there. You left your mark where it counted, Moony.”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Harry turned towards the living room instinctively. “Sev?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Harry was on his feet and at the baby’s side within seconds. “What’s the matter, cub?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Severus opened his mouth while he cried and frantically began pointing towards his lower gums.

“Ah, Mr. Tooth’s come a-calling.” Harry picked the baby up and allowed the child to cry into his shirt while he washed his hands and fetched a glass of ice water. “Alright…It’s okay…Time for a gum massage…” As soon as the child was settled on his lap, he dipped his fingers into the cold water and instructed the infant to open up. Severus’ cries died down as soon as the soothing message began. “There…feel better now, do we?” Severus merely closed his eyes and leaned against his chest. Harry chuckled. “I take that as a yes…”

He turned back to Remus. “Now…where were we?”

Remus chuckled and began shifting through the papers on his half of the table. “You’re a good man, Harry.”

“I learned from the best.” Harry replied, his eyes flicking towards the werewolf.

“Your father would have been proud of you. I know I am.”

“That last part was all I needed to know, Moony.”

Remus smiled at the parchment in his hand as the warmth from Harry’s words began coursing through his body.

The Hogwarts staff, along with their significant others and respective infants, were just beginning to serve themselves lunch when the fireplace in the Great Hall flared green and out stepped a tall, burly man. Everyone immediately turned to face the newcomer.

“Where in the blazes…” The stranger turned towards the door, muttering under his breath, before spinning around the face the table. “AH! Potter! There you are.”

Harry jerked at the sound of his name. “Ah…Uh…” He squinted at the approaching man and then gasped. “Abe—er—forth? ABE!” Harry squeaked before quickly rising from his seat and offering the man his hand.

The bartender took it and grumbled, “Yeah, well, who else do you know that looks like me?”

“Well—”

“Don’t answer that!” The big man waved a finger at him before turning away and facing the table. He immediately froze upon spotting his brother. The two Dumbledores merely stared at each other for a long moment.

Albus, for his part, look surprised, to say the least. “Aberforth!”

“Albus.” His brother droned, continuing to stare at his older brother, and making no further attempt at conversation.

“Er…what are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to Potter.” Aberforth replied shortly.

“Well…” Albus looked around the table to find the whole faculty staring at him and his brother. “Harry and the rest of us just sat down to lunch. Would you…perhaps…like to join us?”

“If I must.” Aberforth waved his wand, summoning a chair from the other side of the room, and shooing Harry and Hagrid to the sides so that he could sit between them. “Hagrid, how’re you doing?” He offered the half-giant his hand.

The other man took it. “Not bad, Abe, how’re you?”

“Finally done fixing my damn bar after it was used as a bloody railway station!” He fixed Harry with a glare as he sat down.

“Hey, don’t blame me!” Harry replied, indignant. “It wasn’t my idea to use your damn bar as a bloody railway station. Blame Neville! He’s the one that called the cavalry in.”

“Because of you!”

“Hey! I didn’t want to fight!” Harry argued as he served himself some mashed potatoes. “I was, like, I’m here to find some Ravenclaw’s Diadem and destroy it. That’s all I wanted to do! But Neville was like, no! ‘This is the signal we’ve been waiting for. Everyone’s been waiting for you, Harry, so we can fight!’ I didn’t want to fight. It was Neville who called the Army, who then called the Order.”

“Who the bloody hell did that?!” Aberforth grumbled as he snatched the mashed potatoes from Harry’s outstretched hand.

“Fred and George—the Weasley twins—were part of the DA—Dumbledore’s Army—”

“Yeah, I know what it is! Hard not to notice when you turn my goddamn bar into a war room.”

“We had no place to meet the first time! Besides, it was Hermione’s idea.”

“Go on!”

“So Fred and George were part of the Army, but their brothers Bill and Charlie were part of the Order. So when Neville let Fred and George know via the DA coins, Fred and George told Bill and Charlie, who then sent their patronuses out to the other Order members, and it all snowballed from there! And then the Death Eaters show up, and Snape gets thrown out of the castle, and I need time to find this thing, and Professor McGonagall offers to buy me that time, and bada bing, bada boom, the next thing I know, we have a full-scale battle on our hands. How is any of this my fault?!”

“You were the spark that ignited the flames of rebellion!”

Silence filled the room for one long moment as Harry and Aberforth merely glared at each other.

Then all of a sudden Harry pulled back and smirked. “That was deep, mate.”

“Thank you. It happens from time to time.”

“Look at it this way,” Harry started, handing Aberforth a platter of chicken, “You and your bar are going to go down in history as the critical entry/exit point that enabled our side to win the battle, thus winning the war.”

Abe snatched the chicken platter and scowled fiercely. “Do I look like a man who wants to go down in history?!”

“Do I look like a man who wants to go down in history?!” Harry retorted with a snort.

“Whatever.” Abe dumped the chicken in Hagrid’s hands without even looking, startling the half-giant.

“Some things you can’t help.”

Abe scoffed. “I’m here about the house!” He snarled.

“What about the house?!” Harry snarled in return.

“I heard you’re gonna clean it!” Abe screamed.

“You heard right!” Harry screamed in reply.

Remus leaned in and whispered in Ginny’s ear. “Is this the way they always talk?”

The teenager snorted as she fed Sev a mouthful of food. “Oh, yeah. This is a regular conversation for them.”

As if snapping out of a trance, Abe looked up and leaned over to peer past Harry. “Oh! Hello, Miss Weasley.” He greeted, his tone entirely pleasant and altogether different from the one he was using with Harry just moments before.

Ginny smiled at the looks of surprise she was receiving from the entire table. “Hello, Aberforth. I take it you had a pleasant day?”

Abe shrugged. “Relatively.” He smiled.

Ginny chuckled. “That’s good.”

Abe nodded and turned back to Harry. “What parts of the house are you going to clean?!” He snarled.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but ended up laughing into his hand instead.

“That’s it. I win.” Abe chuckled as he dug into his lunch.

Harry sobered up quickly. “It’s not over.”

“Like hell it’s not over, Potter. You cracked, I win.”

“I did not crack.”

“You cracked!”

“Did not!”

“You did so. I win. Ah, ah, ah!” He held up a finger to silence Harry’s impending protest. “I win!”

Sev giggled at the two men’s antics.

“Who’s the kid?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Abe raised an eyebrow at him. “Really, Potter?! Do you really have to ask? What’s my name?!”

Harry snorted and began laughing at his plate. Beside him, Severus squealed in delight and began laughing at Aberforth in earnest.

Albus, on the other hand, scowled at his brother. “I don’t appreciate the implication, Aberforth.”

Abe replied in a voice completely devoid of any amusement whatsoever. “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen, Albus.”

Albus narrowed his eyes. “Let’s remember just whose kitchen this would be, Aberforth.”

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please!” Ginny raised her voice, leaning over to wave a hand between the two brothers, breaking their eye contact. “Let’s not get into anything here, please. Not at the table, at least. Aberforth, you came to talk to us about the house?”

With one last genuine scowl at his brother, Aberforth turned away completely to face Ginny and Harry. “Yes, the house.”  His eyes wandered downward and lingered on the snickering baby.

“Abe, this is Severus Snape. Sev, this is Aberforth Dumbledore.”

The bartender offered his finger to the infant, who immediately grasped it with his drool-soaked hand. “I take it we met before.” The baby grinned at him and nodded. Abe shook the finger with a frown. “You’re too cute to insult at this size.” The infant snickered at him. “That, and I get the feeling Potter here would hex me to kingdom come and the lioness over there would tackle me to the floor and eat me.” Sev’s snickers soon became full-blown squeals of laughter.  

“Wise choice, Aberforth.” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“I value my life.” The bartender turned to Harry. “So what parts of the house are you going to clean?” He asked in a normal conversational tone.

“What parts do you want me to clean?”

Abe studied him for a moment as he chewed his lunch. “You’re giving the house back to me, right?”

“Yes.”

“Which means everything in there is mine.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. “That would be…correct.”

Aberforth immediately pulled a rolled-up parchment out of his pocket and snapped it open, startling everyone at the table. He then held up the parchment to Harry’s face. “This is a map of the house. I marked out my old room and Ariana’s old room.” Harry raised an eyebrow and took the paper. “Leave those two rooms alone, and clean out everything else.”

Ginny dropped her fork and gaped at Aberforth.

“Everything else?!” Harry’s eyes widened at the younger Dumbledore.

“Everything else.”

“As in the whole house?”

“That’s what ‘everything else’ means!”

Ginny glanced at Albus and noticed he had stopped playing with his food and was frozen in place. “Wait…hold on a second, Abe.” She interrupted. “What do you mean by ‘clean out’?”

“Shred it, blast it, incinerate it, I don’t care!” The bartender shrugged. “Except for those two rooms, I want everything gone.”

Ginny nudged Harry and flicked her eyes towards the headmaster. Harry glanced at the pale old man and nodded his head indistinguishably before turning back to the younger brother. “How ‘bout this, Abe—I sell or store the stuff rather than destroy it.”

“You don’t understand, Potter.” Aberforth frowned, “I don’t want this stuff anywhere on this earth anymore.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little overdoing it?”

“No, Ginny!” Abe scowled at the both of them. “Have you two even been in that house?!”

“Yes!” Harry hissed. “And that place is like a museum. You have lots of stuff in there that’s valuable!”

“I—don’t—want it!” The bartender drawled, his voice turning dangerous. “Get rid of it!”

“We’re not just going to get rid of your stuff, Aberforth!” Ginny argued.

Harry quickly glanced at Albus before frowning at Aberforth. “What about your brother’s stuff, Abe?”

Abe slammed his cup down and pointed straight at Harry. “You said everything in that house is mine!”

“Technically!”

“Get rid of it, Harry!”

“Abe, unless you have some exceptionally dark objects in your childhood home, I’m not getting rid of it!”

“What if they were?”

“They’re not.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Both Ginny and I can sense magical auras, Abe. They’re not!”

“Oh, and I suppose the fact that my dear older brother and his good friend GRINDELWALD used most of the things in that house during their search for the deathly hallows and world domination means nothing to you!”

A fork clattering against the table and a sharp gasp from one of the female professors were the only sounds that permeated the air. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly so thick you could cut it with a knife. Nobody spoke, nobody moved, nobody even breathed for several long moments.

Then, suddenly, the sound of silverware scraping against china drew everyone’s attention and the whole faculty watched as Albus Dumbledore—one of the greatest wizards of all time—pushed his plate away and buried his face in his hands.

Harry turned in his seat and leaned towards Ginny and Severus. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you or Severus in that house until I give it the okay, alright?”

“We’re not just going to incinerate his stuff, Harry.” Ginny murmured in return.

“Ah!” Sev agreed.

“I know, I know.” Harry unconsciously put a hand around Severus’ back and squeezed Ginny’s shoulder in support as he turned towards the younger Dumbledore. “Aberforth,” he began, his tone low and respectful, “technically, considering I haven’t handed you the ‘keys’ to the house yet, everything in that house is still mine.”

“Goddamn it, Potter—”

“I will respect your wishes!” Harry added loudly and hastily before Abe could explode on him. The bartender narrowed his eyes at him instead. “I will respect your wishes to a point! If I think anything in there—dark aura or light aura—is dangerous in any way, shape, or form, I will indeed incinerate it.”

“Even if you find it in my brother’s room?!” The bartender fixed him with an expectant glare.

Harry grit his teeth together in frustration and turned towards Ginny. His girlfriend glared past him at the stubborn Dumbledore before huffing and turning away. The teenager glanced towards the headmaster, only to find him still buried behind his hands. Turning back to the bartender in even more frustration, he growled, “Fine! But it is up to my discretion!”

Aberforth slammed the map against the table and stood up. “Done!” Throwing his napkin onto his now-empty plate, he abruptly turned from the table and began making his way towards the fireplace. “Let me know when you’re done with the place!”

Harry shot a genuine cold glare at the bartender’s back. “You’re an irritating, stubborn son-of-a-bitch, you know that, Dumbledore?!”

“So I’ve been told.” The burly man replied, completely unfazed. He pulled a handful of floo powder out of his pocket and threw it in the fireplace. Tongues of green flames immediately flared upwards. “See you around, Potter! I’d say goodbye to you, Miss Weasley, but you’re mad at me.”

“Gee! How could you tell?!” The redhead spat over her shoulder.

“I’ll be in touch!” And with that, he walked into the flames and was gone.

“Can you believe that man?!” Ginny growled in Tonks’ direction, making the metamorphamagus flinch back playfully. “No consideration for his brother whatsoever!”

“Are you alright, Professor?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at the old man.

“I’m fine, Harry.” The Headmaster answered behind his hands.

“You’d think they weren’t related, that they were mortal enemies, the way he treats him!” Ginny continued to rant.

“Miss Weasley—”

“Blaming a man for a mistake he made as a teenager. It’s absolutely ridiculous! That grudge is over a hundred years old. Do you see now why I wanted you to learn to let go of your grudge with Sirius, Severus?”

The baby’s eyes widened and he nodded complacently at her before glancing questioningly at Harry. His caretaker took one glance the redhead and sighed, lifting Severus out of his high chair and placing him on his lap, a good distance away from his raving lunatic of a girlfriend.

“It’s bollocks is what it is! Can you believe he wants us to incinerate most of the house? His childhood house! What kind of…” The rest of Ginny’s rant was garbled as Harry placed his hands firmly on top of Sev’s ears. After all, they were trying to teach him not to resort to such language. He already heard Harry swear once today. It would do no good if he suddenly heard Ginny dissolve into a string of curses.

“Miss Weasley, please—”

“He has no right to treat his own brother like dirt—”

“Ginny!” Professor Dumbledore resorted to calling her by her first name in order to get her attention.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying, sir?”

“Although your anger on my behalf is both admirable and appreciated, Miss Weasley, I’m afraid my brother’s anger at me is deep-seated and valid.”

“Aberforth is entirely capable of forgiving you, sir, he just refuses to out of sheer principle. It’s childish and that’s what’s infuriating me.”

“Professor,” Harry broke in, “I meant every word I said to Aberforth, however…I’ve been inside your childhood home, sir, and almost nothing in that house qualifies for the incinerator.” Dumbledore turned towards him, a spark of hope gleaming in his eyes. “It’s mostly pictures, old clothes, photo albums—that sort of thing.” Harry reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out an old, folded up photograph, handing it to the headmaster.

Dumbledore unfolded it and gasped, his hand flying to cover his mouth. Unshed tears immediately began glistening in his eyes.

Both McGonagall and Slughorn peered over Albus’ shoulder curiously, their eyes widening as soon as they glimpsed the picture. “Is that your father, Albus?” McGonagall asked, pointing to a figure in the picture.

“Yes.” The old man choked out, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“And that little boy must be you!” Slughorn added, chuckling as he pointed elsewhere on the photograph. “How old were you there, Albus? Two? Three?”

Dumbledore didn’t answer. Instead, his glistening eyes slowly traveled upward, past the borders of the photograph, to meet Harry’s steady gaze. “Thank you.” He murmured. His voice cracked halfway through and a single, errant tear managed to slip past his defenses and slide down his face.

“I’ll see that you get your things.” Harry promised, his voice soft and respectful.

Severus leaned back onto Harry’s chest and tilted his head upward to study his caretaker’s face. Harry looked calm and sympathetic towards Dumbledore. Well that was a new development. Normally, Harry didn’t like Dumbledore. He was tolerant and respectful towards him, sure; but there was always this underlying tension between him and the old wizard. Now, though, that tension was nowhere to be found. It was gone for the moment, and all that was left was a compassionate Harry and an emotional Dumbledore.

Severus thought back and realized it must’ve been Aberforth who started all of this. He and Harry and Ginny had gotten in a row about some stuff, and who owned the stuff, and whether or not the stuff should be incinerated. At least, that’s what Severus thought they were arguing about. It was all so fuzzy now. What he was sure of, though, was that by the time the bartender was leaving, Harry and Ginny were both sending him what Sev dubbed the “naughty” glare. It was the one that was usually shot his way right before he found himself staring at a corner or nursing a stinging bottom or both. Sev remembered thinking it was a good thing the man was leaving, otherwise he’d have found himself staring at a corner pretty soon.

Shifting in his seat, Sev glanced at Dumbledore just in time to watch the lone tear cascade down his face. The infant frowned. Tapping the hand supporting his chest, Sev glanced up, “Haweh?”

“Yeah, cub?”

“Dum-dow?” Sev then signed the word ‘sad’ and looked at Harry curiously.

“Yeah, he is a little bit.”

“Oh…” Sev made a disappointed noise and then went back to watching the old man for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, an idea came to him and smile swiftly blossomed on his face. “Haweh!” He began bouncing excitedly on his caretaker’s leg.

“What? What is it?”

“Baboooooom!” He grinned up at the teenager and held up a hand, opening and closing his fingers in a wordless plea.

“Balloon?” Harry looked confused.

“Baboooooom!”

“Sweetheart, I think he wants you to get his balloon.” Ginny interjected.

“What do you want with your balloon for? It’s tied to your crib.”

“Baboooooom.” Sev turned on his puppy-dog eyes full-blast.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake…” Harry held up a hand and soon enough a bright yellow happy face balloon floated through the doors of the Great Hall and into the teenager’s palm. “Here you go—your extra-special happy balloon.” Harry attempted to tie the balloon’s string around Sev’s wrist, only to have the infant pull his hand away abruptly.

“Mo! Mom me!”

“Mummy?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“He said, ‘Not me!’” Ginny clarified.

“Not you?”

“Dum-dow.” Sev pointed to the sad old man across from him and then glanced back up at Harry.

Harry froze in quite a comical position. He had his mouth hanging open in shock, with one hand holding Sev and the other holding up a bright yellow happy face balloon. Ginny immediately began laughing at her boyfriend. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a camera right about now.” She murmured at a snickering Tonks before turning back to Severus. “You want to give your special happy balloon to Professor Dumbledore, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Alright then, go ahead and do it.” Ginny smiled gently. “It’s your happy balloon, love. Remember what the vendor said? If you want to help make someone else happy, you have to give it to them since it’s yours.”

“Okie!” Sev firmly gripped the balloon string in the palm of his hand and pulled it out of Harry’s lax grip. He then leaned across the table as far as Harry allowed and deposited the string into the grip of one dumbfounded Albus Dumbledore. “Ha—peh.” He told him, leaning back onto Harry’s chest. “Ha—peh. My—we! Ha—peh my—ew!”

“Smile, Professor.” Harry translated, his voice quiet and filled with awe. “Be happy…and smile.” The teenager looked down and gaped at the baby in his arms.

“I’m proud of you for trying to make Professor Dumbledore happy, sweetheart.” Ginny ran her fingers through Sev’s hair and smiled proudly at the infant.

“Wike Haweh?!” Sev grinned.

Ginny gasped and, if possible, her grin grew even wider. “Yeah, baby…” her eyes shifted towards her boyfriend, “…just like Harry.”

Sev glanced up at the startled face of his caretaker. “Powd?”

“Oh, cub…” Harry wrapped the child in a loving embrace and graced him with the biggest grin he could muster, “…I am really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really proud of you right now! I am so proud…I could give you a thousand points!” The infant in Harry’s arms began giggling up at him merrily as the teenager leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I’m that proud of you.” He murmured, looking deep into the Sev’s eyes. Using his highly-developed skills in ligilimency, Harry made sure Severus felt just how proud of him he really was.

“Severus?” Both Harry and Sev looked up at the sound of the headmaster’s croaky voice. The old man was bobbing the balloon up and down and watching it intently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After a moment, he turned his attention towards the baby in Harry’s arms. “Thank you, Severus. Thank you very much.”

“Wewcom.” Severus then proceeded to stick his thumb in his mouth and bury his face in Harry’s chest.

“Well…he sure is coming along isn’t he, Harry?” Slughorn commented, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, yeah…” Harry chuckled, shifting the drowsy child to a more comfortable position across his lap.

“I must say,” McGonagall added, “This newer version of Severus is a lot more pleasant than the older one.”

“He appears to be picking up your personality traits, Harry.” Dumbledore threw in, glancing once more at the balloon that was now tied to his wrist.

“We’re going to have a little Harry running around soon enough.” Tonks joked from her end of the table.

“No more than you’re going to have a little Remus running around as well.” Harry retorted.

“Merlin help me if I’m still here by the time the next generation of Marauders comes to this school!” McGonagall shrilled from her seat.

The entire table burst into laughter, the drama between the Dumbledores forgotten for now.