After the memorial service was finally through, and the last of the guests had returned home, Severus and his family could finally relax and unwind. All of them were still feeling emotionally wrung out and after they had all gotten out of their formal wear and into more comfortable, casual clothing, Severus brewed them tea. He told them it was regular Earl Grey, but it had a Calming Draft mixed in, and he even drank it, knowing they could all use one. The Calming Draft wouldn’t take away their grief, but it would blunt it somewhat and blur the edges, and give them some respite from the aching loss they felt. Right now they needed that.

He had Lina bring in the tea to the drawing room, where Sandra was relaxing on the small divan with her feet up, looking through Witch Weekly, and Harry was petting Warlocke, who was perched on the back of the long sofa. Warlocke was taking his master’s absence hard too, and seemed to welcome the boy’s gentle fingers and soft murmur. Severus walked in just in time to hear Harry say, “You’re a good post owl, aren’t you, boy? And we need you, so don’t be in a hurry to follow Grandpa, okay?”

Severus’s heart nearly broke for the plea in the child’s tone, and he saw Sandra surreptitiously wiping a tear from her eye. My poor son, so young to be preoccupied with death. Now you’re fretting over a melancholy owl. I wish I could have spared you this. But unfortunately, death is a demon we all must face someday. He came over and sat down upon the sofa next to Harry, gently nudging the snoozing Magnus’ bulk out of his way. The dog was sprawled on the rug in front of the sofa and barely woke when Severus prodded him with his slipper.

Valeska was also perched upon the back of the sofa, preening her magnificent snowy wings. “Hello, my beauty,” he crooned to her, using a tone he reserved exclusively for her and no one else.

She butted his hand as he scratched her chest, her golden eyes whirling with affection. He spent a good seven minutes stroking her, before she tucked her head beneath her wing and fell asleep.

Warlocke flew off the sofa then, going to his perch, where Hedwig was also, and allowing the younger owl to groom him. He seemed rather taken with the pretty snowy, and Severus hoped that attraction would sustain the bird and make him wish to live.

Lina arrived with the tea tray and served them. She had also made some small raspberry and currant tarts and Harry ate two of them and drank his tea before leaning back and putting his head in Severus’ lap. He hadn’t done that in a long time, but he craved the contact now. He felt his father’s long fingered hands thread themselves through his hair, and he stretched out on the sofa, rather like his own familiar, who was asleep on his bed upstairs, having fled there when all the guests invaded the house.

Harry felt rather sleepy, but first he had a few questions for Severus. “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“What did Sirius Black mean before, when he said you hated my dad James?”

Severus exhaled softly. He really didn’t want to discuss his childhood and James Potter right then, but he sensed that Harry would keep mulling and fretting himself over it until he developed an ulcer. “When I knew Potter, in school, he was an arrogant bully. He was good looking, rich, and thought he could use his charm and his wicked sense of humor to get out of almost anything. He ran with a gang of pranksters and bullies called the Marauders. Black was one of them, and so was the wizard who betrayed your parents to Voldemort, Pettigrew. The other was a man named Remus Lupin, whom I later discovered was a werewolf . . .”

“They were Gryffindors, right?”

“Yes, and I was a Slytherin and in their eyes that made me the enemy, and fair game for their so-called fun . . .”Severus’s tone darkened. He told Harry the story of his feud with the Marauders and how Lily defended him to them.

Harry frowned. “They sound a bit like Draco Malfoy and his two peabrain friends. Only he doesn’t bother with pulling pranks, he just looks down his nose at people and mocks them. Or at least he did until Professor Malfoy gave him two weeks’ worth of detention for it. Then he shaped up.”

“Potter and Black could have used two months’ worth of detention. But the Headmaster was too lenient with them.”

“He does kinda seem to favor the Gryffindors,” Harry said.

“Mmm . . .yes.”

“I know one Gryffindor he won’t be favoring,” Sandra said sharply. “That rat Pettigrew. I really hope Moody and Shacklebolt capture him and put him away or get him Kissed for good.”

“That or just exterminate him like the vermin he is,” said Severus.

Harry agreed.

After a moment, Severus continued, telling Harry about how Voldemort was rising to power when he was in school and how some Slytherins, like Lucius Malfoy, followed his evil propaganda and tried to recruit others of their House to their cause. “I was one of them. I didn’t want to join him or his little band of cutthroats, but I had to be careful how I refused him, because he had his own band of followers and they could and would have cursed me to death if they thought it was necessary. So I told him I would think about it to buy me time to figure out a way to get free of him without bringing disaster on my head. Lily misunderstood, however, and thought that I was going dark and she refused to be friends with me any longer. That was when she started hanging around your father.”

“Oh. Then what happened with Malfoy?”

“I told him I wasn’t worthy of the honor of joining him and I spent the rest of my time at school studying for exams and NEWTS,” Severus replied. “I was disgusted with everyone and all I wanted was to be left alone to pursue my degree. After seventh year, while your father and mother joined the Order of the Phoenix, a secret movement dedicated to fighting off Voldemort, I went to the Academy and earned my Mastery. By the time I was finished, the war was over because you had managed to defeat Voldemort. And my best friend was dead and I have always regretted not going and contacting her to see if we could have renewed our friendship. I would have forgiven her for her misconception.”

Sandra was just as glad he hadn’t renewed ties with Lily Potter. Otherwise he might have never come to see her as someone who loved him, and still be pining after a woman who had broken his heart.

“Would you have forgiven my dad too?”

“That’s . . .difficult to say. If he had apologized to me for what he did to me during school, then yes, I would have been willing to let bygones be bygones. But I broke all ties with my classmates when I left school and so I’ll never know. But as I said to Black, how I felt about James Potter has nothing to do with you. The sins of the fathers aren’t visited upon the children, and you are your own person, Harry. My son, whom I love.”

“I’m glad it was you who found me after my horrid aunt and uncle abandoned me,” Harry said sincerely. “I just wish Grandpa were here so I could tell him that.”

“You know, Harry, a part of him is still here. His portrait hangs in his study and would be willing to talk to you.” Severus reminded him. “The portrait . . .it has many of his memories and personality. It may help you if you speak with it.”

“Can he move around the manor, like the portraits at school?”

“I don’t know. I suppose if there’s an empty frame for him to go into, then yes. You could ask him that, if you’d like.”

Harry gnawed his lower lip. He knew he couldn’t avoid going into the study and seeing the portrait forever. And he was troubled about meeting his godfather and afraid that if he opened a relationship with him, it might cause problems between himself and Severus, and that was the last thing he wanted. If Augustus had been alive, Harry knew he could have gone to the old Auror and talked to him about this new turn of events. “All right,” he agreed. “Maybe I’ll ask him later. I’m sort of tired right now.”

“Why don’t you sleep then?”

“In my room? Or can I stay here?”

“If I wanted you to move, I would have said so,” his father answered simply.

Harry felt himself start to drift and then he fell asleep.

He was soon followed by Severus and Sandra, for they were worn out with the day’s events and the Calming Draught usually had a soporific effect upon people.

* * * * * *

When Harry woke again, both of his parents were still slumbering peacefully. After slipping off the couch, and using the bathroom, he made his way upstairs to the study. He paused before the door, his fingernails digging into his palms, as he slowly gathered the courage to enter the room. As a small child, he had been forbidden to enter the study without permission, later when he was ten he had been allowed to enter it to fetch certain things Augustus needed, such as a book or quill and ink. Still, the old habit was ingrained in him and so he froze on the threshold, and he had to work up courage to disregard that early training and his reluctance to go and face the portrait before he entered the room.

The spelled lights came on as soon as he set foot in the room and he went and looked up at the almost life-size portrait of the late Augustus Prince, which dominated the wall behind the chair and desk. The portrait faced the study door, so he could see all who came and went from the room. The portrait looked so lifelike it almost seemed as though it could step from the canvas.

The frame was an elegant scrollwork mahogany with a brass nameplate that read: Augustus Prince, Lord of Foxfire Hall February 14, 1887-June 20, 1992. In it, Augustus was wearing his familiar silver robes with the family crest upon the left shoulder and his beryl cabochon. Every detail had been captured, including the gray about the temples and shrewd sparkle in his eyes.

The portrait had been dozing with his head on his hand until Harry entered and the lights came on. Then he awoke and looked directly at Harry. “Hello, Henry,” he greeted.

Harry froze, his heart beating hysterically. The voice was the same, the eyes were the same, even the soft smile was the same. And the Augustus portrait addressed him the same way his great-grandfather always had, insisting on the formal Henry. It was a form of address he had never expected to hear again. It was almost as if Augustus lived again.

He began to cry, sniffling, unable to respond. He quickly shut the door, not wanting anyone to interrupt him.

Augustus the portrait looked distressed. “There now, lad, I know it’ll take a long time for you to get used to this . . .the fact that I’m here and yet not . . .”

Harry just nodded, gulping hard. He wiped his face with the handkerchief he had taken to carrying in his pocket since he had learned of Augustus’ death. “Is it . . . really you in there, Grandpa?” he half-whispered.

“Who else would it be?” asked the portrait softly. “I am a magical repository for the memories and some of the personality of Augustus Prince. I was made so that you and Severus would still be able to ask advice and discuss things with me that I hadn’t had time to teach you in life. Such as things about Elemental Magic and managing an estate and so forth. I’m sorry if I’m upsetting you. Perhaps it was too soon for you to visit me.”

Harry shook his head, blinking hard and blowing his nose. “No, Grandpa. I needed . . .to talk to you about something. It’s just . . .hearing you say my name, hearing your voice . . .it makes me miss you and at the same time I’m glad too . . .I must sound like a headcase . . .”

Augustus chuckled. “No, you sound like a boy who misses his grandfather. And for that I’m glad, because it means I guess I wasn’t such a strict old buzzard after all, even if I did wallop you with my ruler.”

Harry managed a small smile. “I deserved that. And I’ll always miss you, but I’m glad you’re a portrait.”

“Good. What’s on your mind, Henry?”

“Uh . . .well, during the memorial service we just had, I met a man named Sirius Black, he said he was named my godfather . . .”

“Sirius Black? The murderer?” Augustus cried, aghast.

“He was framed, Grandpa. That came out when the Aurors viewed the memories you’d taken from Voldemort.” Harry told him what had really happened and then went on to detail what he had said to Harry during the service.

“Let me get this straight. He came to the service to pay his respects because I saved his arse from being interred in Azkaban with my information gathering and yet he still thinks ill of Severus and wants you to come and live with him because he doesn’t think you belong here?” Augustus snorted. “Humph! The man has major issues here. I think being stuck in Azkaban has given him a bit of a complex.”

“Yes. But I kind of feel bad for him, because he was sent to jail for something he never did.”

“True. That was wrong. Funny, but now that I think back on it, I don’t think he was ever tried for killing Pettigrew and those thirteen Muggles or for betraying his oath as Secret Keeper. It was all rather sudden and pushed under the rug. Very odd. I’m surprised Dumbledore didn’t defend his former Gryffindor student.”

“That is strange. But even though I feel bad for him, I sure don’t want to up and live with him, even if it was what my dad James had planned for me. I kept telling him that I was a Snape now and my home was here and he got mad and started insulting Papa. And nobody does that, I don’t care if he’s my godfather or not.”

Augustus applauded. “Good for you, Henry. Always stick up for your family. I think Mr. Black is feeling mighty bitter and resentful over losing all those years and time getting to know you, and I can understand that, but he needs to learn to control his tongue and not bite the hand that’s fed his godson all these years.”

“Papa told me how it was for him in school, they fought all the time—” Harry explained about the Marauders.

“Pack of rascals and scoundrels,” said Augustus disapprovingly. “There were some like that in my schooldays too. There’s only two things to do with bullies, Henry. Either give them a taste of their own medicine so they back off or pretend they don’t exist. Either they’ll learn better and grow up or they’ll stay bullies until an Auror arrests them for assault. I’d say your dad learned better and hopefully Mr. Black has too, though if he’s still reverting to name-calling he’s got a bit more growing up to do.”

“He wants to write me and get to know me better, but I don’t know what I should do. If I agree, I don’t want him to think he can persuade me to leave my family and I don’t want Papa to be upset or uncomfortable either.”

“Hmmm . . .I’d say you need to make up your mind, young Henry, if you wish to allow Sirius to be a part of your life, even if it’s in a small way. If you do, you need to tell the man straight out how it’s got to be, no two ways about it. Respect you, respect your family, and that’s it. Seems to me like he expects you to be like his best friend James and you need to tell him that you might be the man’s son, but you’re not his copy. He needs to accept you for who you are, Slytherin, a Snape, and proud of it.”

“I know. I think . . .I think he was expecting me to just . . .come with him and maybe I might have done that if I was still living with the Dursleys or in an orphanage or something, but I could never leave Foxfire Hall, or all of you. I wouldn’t even if a court granted him custody over me. I’d run away first chance I got and come straight back here.”

“Henry, no court would do that,” Augustus reassured him. “You’ve been named the Prince heir. And no one could take you from Foxfire Hall because of the wards. As for Severus, he wants what makes you happy. He hasn’t forbid you to write to your godfather, has he?”

“No.”

“Then you needn’t worry that he’ll be angry with you over it. He would have told you by now. He might not like the man but there’s no law that says you have to like all of your son’s friends. Or your daughter’s.”

“I just don’t want to cause trouble for him, not now . . .not after . . .”

“Yes, I see. Why don’t you wait a week or two before you contact your godfather again? Give him time to adjust to being out in the real world again and yourself time to consider what’s best for you. No need to rush.”

“All right. I’ll do that. Thanks, Grandpa.”

“Anytime, my Henry. Anytime.”

The boy stared at the portrait wistfully. “I wish . . .I wish I could hug you.”

Augustus smiled sadly. “Yes, I wish that too. But I’m only magic paint and canvas now.”

“I know.” But the need was still there, all squished and achy inside him, and suddenly he just needed to hold something warm and soft. “Goodbye, Grandpa,” he called, waving at the portrait. “I’ll see you later.”

Then he was gone from the study, slipping down the hall to his room, where he sat on his bed and cuddled a sleepy calico cat and allowed a few tears to fall into her fur. He wondered if he would ever be free of this terrible longing, free of guilt and tears.

He dozed, and in his semi-aware state, heard Severus and Sandra enter the bedroom and caught bits and pieces of their hushed words.

“ . . .must have fallen asleep up here.” Sandra murmured.

“ . . .think we should wake him for dinner?” queried Severus.

“ . . .maybe he’s hungry . . .”

He felt a hand shake his shoulder. “Harry. Harry, wake up.”

He reluctantly opened an eye. “Huh?”

“It’s time for supper. Would you like to come down and eat dinner?”

“M’tired.” Harry groaned.

“All right. Go back to sleep.” Severus said, and then Harry felt a light tap and his clothes Transfigured into pajamas.

“Don’t forget his shoes, Sev.”

“I wasn’t,” came his father’s voice, and he felt his sneakers gently tugged off and a light blanket draped over him.

Then they were gone and Harry snuggled deeper into his pillow, the cat’s weight warm upon his chest and fell asleep.

When he awoke, sometime around ten o’clock at night, he was ravenous. “Lina,” he called softly.

She appeared in the room. “Yes, Master Harry?”

“Could you, uh, bring me some cereal and toast with jam, please?”

“Certainly,” she smiled and patted his cheek. “You need to eat.”

She returned a moment later with his request and he thanked her and fell on the food like a starving wolf.

* * * * * *

One week later:

In the week that followed, Severus was very busy trying to keep up with all the various organizations that Augustus had funded and donated to as well as meetings with the goblins of Gringotts to finalize a trust fund for Harry and making out a first draft of a will which named Harry as his primary heir, with provisions made for any other children he might have as well. In addition to that, he was required to attend certain fundraisers like the St. Mungos Childrens’ Fund and accept awards posthumously on his grandfather’s behalf. Soon the study was lined with plaques and silver bowls and goblets on various shelves and each time he brought home something else, Augustus’ portrait would make a face and groan, “Not another one, Severus! Merlin’s glory, but they never liked me this much when I was alive, I swear it.”

“You know what they say, Grandfather,” Severus drawled. “Dead, you’re a hero, alive, you’re a pain in the arse.”

Augustus’ portrait snickered. “Ah, yes. How are you holding up?”

Severus shrugged slightly. “As well as can be expected.” He was actually exhausted, he hadn’t realized just how many social engagements his grandfather had to attend as Lord Prince.

“You look a bit peaked, are you getting enough sleep?”

“More than I used to brewing rounds of potions for Smithers.”

“Get some rest, Severus. And don’t neglect that pretty wife of yours. You don’t have to do everything in one week, you know.”

“I . . .I don’t know how you did it all,” the other admitted.

“I spaced it out. If some organization asks you to be a speaker and you already have three of them lined up for that week, tell the other one to change the date to a more convenient time. They’ll do it for you if they really want you to advertise their franchise. You need to prioritize those meetings so they don’t run you into the ground.”

“I’ll have to set up an appointment calendar then,” Severus said.

“Yes. And if things conflict you can always reschedule.” Augustus advised.

“Thank you, Grandfather.”

“You are most welcome, son,” said the portrait, smiling. “Don’t fret, you’ll do fine. I have every confidence in your abilities.”

That made Severus feel a whole lot better, for he had been starting to think he was totally wrong to be the heir to the Prince holdings. But the portrait’s words to him restored his self-confidence and he began to see pathways out of the quagmire of social engagements thrust upon him.

Harry had been spending a great deal of his time sitting beside Augustus’ memorial stone, which had been set at the foot of the pond, surrounded by rose bushes and wisteria and Dudley had even sent a potted lily to put there as a condolence gift, along with a card saying how sorry he was that Harry had lost his great-grandfather so suddenly. The card had been signed from both Dursleys and Harry was touched that they had done such a thoughtful thing. He had carefully planted the lily in front of the memorial stone, which was carved of the finest Italian marble. Upon the stone was Augustus’ name, birth and death dates and the family motto, plus the words Always in our hearts, never to be forgotten.

Recalling Augustus’ last words, Harry often came and sat beside the stone, his hands touching the lush black earth and trying to feel a sense of peace and contentment. Magnus usually accompanied him, lying patiently in the sun until Harry had enough of meditating and being still and played fetch and Find-the-Hidden-Object with him.

Sometimes Harry talked aloud to the stone, telling it things that had occurred that day. If part of his grandfather’s spirit lingered in the earth, he wanted to keep the old man current on what was going on in the world.

“Today they arrested Peter Pettigrew finally,” he announced to the still water and the sundappled grass. “They found him hidden in the Weasleys, he was posing as a family pet all this time. Percy Weasley figured it was him on account of his missing toe and the fact that some of Voldemort’s memories revealed that he was an Animagus whose form was a rat. He put the rat in a cage and brought him to the Auror Headquarters and they made him change back and then they stuck him in jail until his trial, which will be tomorrow. I really hope they give him the Kiss.”

The next day he returned to the memorial and spoke about Wormtail’s trial, and how the court had displayed a Pensieve for the members of the wizard council to view as evidence that Peter was a known follower of Voldemort and had both betrayed the Potters and Sirius Black.

“They even showed in the Pensieve how Voldemort Marked his followers,” Harry said. “He held a ceremony at the dark of the moon, and all his inner circle were present, wearing the robe and the mask and they all waited in a circle, while Voldemort took Peter’s arm and traced the skull and the snake upon his forearm and chanted, “Mosmorde!” Then there was a hissing sound, like when you put a wet spatula on a hot griddle and the Mark was burned into Wormtail’s arm and he screamed because the Mark not only burned his arm but it opened a connection in his mind with Moldy Voldy too. Ugh! Just the thought of having him in my head makes me sick.” The boy shuddered. “They found out he took the Mark right after he finished school, because he wanted power and was sick of not getting anywhere in life. He envied James and Sirius and the werewolf . . .Lupin, I think his name was. He wanted what they had, fame and fortune and respect, and he thought this was the best way to get it. He admitted he was glad that he killed my parents and tried to kill Sirius, because they had always thought he was weak and pitied him. But as Voldemort’s assassin he had fear and respect. Only he never counted on his Dark Lord dying twice.”

The court ruled that Peter was to receive the Dementor’s Kiss for his crimes and be left in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Afterwards he would be burnt and his remains placed in an unmarked grave.

Harry would have thrown a party with Nev and Blaise if he hadn’t been so melancholy still.

* * * * * *

That same day:

Sirius Black set aside the morning edition of the Prophet after he had read it from cover to cover. He was currently living at Grimmauld Place, having gotten it restored to him by the Ministry. The house had needed a thorough cleaning and airing out after having been shut up for so long, but he had managed to get a sulky Kreacher to do a good job, at least so he wasn’t breathing in dust motes every time he sat down on a piece of furniture.

He had also gotten most of the confiscated bank funds back from the Ministry Board of Commerce, enough to live off of comfortably for the next five or six years if he was careful. They had also said they would try and pay back the rest over a period of ten years, since some of the money was now tied up in grants for charities and Sirius wouldn’t want to take food from the mouths of widows and orphans, now would he? Sirius told them he would wait, he didn’t want any kind of unsavory reputation being attached to him now that he was finally free of the shackles of Azkaban. At least the Black fortune was being put to a good use, he reflected, shutting the paper and picking up the letter he had just received from a Great Horned owl.

He was glad that Wormtail would suffer the full penalty of the law, for he certainly deserved it, although Sirius would have been happy to tear out his throat in his dog form and make an end of him that way.

“All right, Dart, let’s see who wrote me,” he spoke to his small gray owl, which he had recently purchased from Eeylops.

The parchment was crisp and new and bore the seal of the Prince family crest.

“Harry,” he cried happily.

But as he began reading, he soon learned the letter was not from his godson.

Dear Mr. Black,

We met briefly at the memorial service of Augustus Prince, though you may not remember me. I am Sandra Snape, Harry’s stepmother, though I do not like using that term and Harry considers me a surrogate mother, as he does not remember his real one.

I am writing to you in regards to your rather shocking petition you put to Harry that day. Perhaps you didn’t realize what kind of turmoil you caused with your request, how much you have upset poor Harry, who was already upset enough by the loss of his beloved great-grandfather. Harry has come to terms with the fact that though he was not born a Snape, he is a Snape by blood adoption, as well as the heir to both the Prince holdings and the Potter fortune, which my husband secured for him, removing it from the mismanagement of Albus Dumbledore. He had control of the vault for years and had been sending money to the Dursleys, Harry’s relatives, who threw him in a manger when he was seventeen months old and left him to die, and then continued scamming money from Dumbledore for two more years before declaring Harry missing and presumed dead by a Muggle kidnapper. We have since gotten control of the vault back and gotten the Dursleys punished for what they did to Harry. Had Dumbledore been more alert and checked up on Harry even once after he left him with those . . .creatures, he would have found they were totally unfit guardians and Harry could have been removed from their care. But that did not happen and Harry nearly died, but for my husband.

Whether or not you like Severus, the fact remains that he was the one who saved a baby that night and raised him as if he were his own child. For years Harry knew only him as a loving father and provider and Augustus as his grandfather. He grew up safe and loved and given everything any child could need or want at Foxfire Hall. Who knows what might have become of him otherwise? They kept his true parentage a secret in order to ensure that he was not a pawn of prophecy and the manipulations of Albus Dumbledore, who regarded a child as some kind of savior and wished him to fight and kill a powerful dark wizard—Voldemort.

We did not believe in the prophecy, for slaying one such as that is not a task for a child, but a grown man who is skilled in the arts of war. Thus he was hidden away and kept safe, we did not reveal his identity even at school. Dumbledore only learned of it when Harry faced Voldemort and nearly died from it. Now you know as well and I would ask you to keep it secret if you have any care for your godson’s wellbeing.

The Dark Lord may be destroyed, but his followers are still at large and any of them would kill Harry if they knew who he truly was.

Please consider Harry’s feelings before you attempt to contact him and remember that you owe Augustus Prince a debt and can repay it best by thinking about what is best for Harry. Harry loves Severus and has his love in return, as he does mine. Trying to make him reject Severus will only hurt him deeply and show you to be petty and mean spirited. You ought to be glad that your godson grew up the way he did, and thank my husband for raising the son of his rival like one of his own. If it had been you, who had to raise Severus’ son by chance, how well would YOU have done?

I understand that because of an injustice you feel you have lost your chance to know your godson, but that is not the case. Severus and I have no objection to you writing letters to Harry so long as you don’t try and degrade his family. I know that you wish things had been different, but sometimes life doesn’t go according to plan, and now you must face facts. Your godson knows only your reputation as a convict who was acquitted, Severus has never spoken of you until recently, and then only to explain why you and he did not get along in school. Your behavior then and now at the memorial service has not made Harry trust you, so I would suggest you think about making amends with my husband before you attempt to have any sort of relationship with Harry.

Yes, Mr. Black, I am asking you to be an adult and to apologize for your mistakes both then and now. That will show Harry that you at least are trying to tolerate his family and also that you can admit you did wrong and wish to make amends. Above all, I am asking you to put a child first and not yourself.

Ask yourself this—were you in Harry’s place, and a stranger came to you and demanded you leave the only family you had known and loved and come and live with him and then insulted your family besides, what would you do? I am surprised Harry is even willing to speak with you after the way you spoke about his father.

You knew my husband as a poor outcast boy with patched robes and secondhand books whom you singled out as an easy mark for pranks and bullying, but he is that no longer. Severus Snape is a respected and accredited Master in his field, awarded several times the title Best Potion Maker in Britain and Europe, his name is a byword in the magical community for excellence. He is also now Lord Prince, for his grandfather named him his heir, and the inheritor of both his fortune and title and his Elemental magic as well. Severus is a Water Master. He is also a wonderful father and husband.

That is the Severus Snape I know.

Think about that, Mr. Black, before you insult my husband again.

Remember to whom you owe your freedom, and be careful whom you trust. Albus Dumbledore stood by and let you be hauled off to prison without a trial, or even an attempt at an investigation. Have you ever asked him why? Perhaps you should do so. Even the guilty deserve a trial and had they put you under Veritaserum, you never would have gone to Azkaban, and Harry would have come to you instead of those rotten Dursleys. Food for thought, eh?

You say you love your godson and would give your life for him. So would we. Now do the right thing, and consider what I’ve said before writing to Harry. Because if you hurt him in any way, I will make you wish a Dementor Kissed you.

Sincerely,

Sandra Snape, Lady Prince

As Sirius read he found himself first annoyed then grudgingly admitting she was right and finally he had to whistle softly in admiration for the loyalty and sheer guts the witch possessed. He could almost wish he had met her first, for clearly she was a force to be reckoned with. You are one lucky bastard, Snape. That kind of woman comes along once in a lifetime. He sipped his coffee and re-read the letter again, mulling over what she had said and coming to the realization that he had behaved like a fool at the service, and worse besides.

He recalled his schooldays and how he, James, and Wormtail used to taunt Severus and say he would end up begging on the street corner for food when he was done with school and didn’t he look the part already? Now it seemed Snape had had the last laugh and the joke was on him.

He sighed and considered that this was his second chance, which most people never get, and for once he wanted to be smart and not screw it up. He wanted his godson in his life, and he felt ashamed that he had started things off on the wrong foot. Now he would have to try and make amends, even if it meant swallowing his pride and apologizing to Severus Snape.

He Summoned some parchment and a quill and ink to the table and began to write.

* * * * * *

Severus just stared at the letter in his hand the next morning. “Well, I’ll be damned. Wonders will never cease,” he said.

“Who was the letter from, Papa?” asked Harry.

“Your godfather. He actually apologized to me after all these years.” Severus said, a note of wonder creeping into his voice. He handed the letter to Harry, who took it and began to read it, while Severus picked up his copy of the Prophet.

Both men had their noses buried in their respective reading materials and so missed Sandra’s secret smirk that she wore. Apparently, you could teach an old dog new tricks after all.

The headlines in the Prophet that day read as follows:

Hogwarts Staff Under Investigation! Headmaster and Medi-Witch Brought In For Questioning and Pending Lawsuit!

By Robin Archer

As a direct result of the events on June 20th, 1992, the Ministry of Magic has ordered Magical Law Enforcement to investigate the incident involving three first-year-students, Harry Snape, Neville Longbottom, and Blaise Zabini, who faced an incarnation of the dark wizard Tom Riddle. Riddle, it is now known, infiltrated Hogwarts to gain possession of the powerful Sorcerer’s, also known as Philosopher’s Stone, which would have granted him immortality had he succeeded. His nefarious deed was brought to a screeching halt by the timely discovery of Zabini and Snape, who had noticed something off with their best friend Longbottom, who it was later revealed had been under an Imperius Curse. They followed their friend down into a secret passage beneath the school and discovered Riddle trying to retrieve said object, and managed to thwart him. Later, Riddle fled and was destroyed by Augustus Prince, but not before he had seriously injured Lord Prince’s great-grandson and friends. In an attempt to cover up his negligence and foolish decision to remove the Stone from its former safe hiding place and hide it inside Hogwarts, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore delayed informing Harry Snape’s father and grandfather of his grave injury and ordered Poppy Pomfrey, the school medi-witch, to wait until he gave her permission to inform the family. Despite her better judgment, Pomfrey obeyed, and both have been brought in for questioning and charged with negligence and possible involuntary manslaughter. One shudders to think what could have happened had not Professor Zandra Malfoy obeyed her conscience and contacted the Snape family. In light of this near tragedy, charges have been brought against the Headmaster for reckless endangerment of children and the breaking of Hogwarts’ code 105—Headmaster shall not knowingly bring or allow into the school premises any creature, object, or person that can pose a threat or loss of life to students under his care. Families who have pending lawsuits against Professor Dumbledore are as follows: the Prince family, by Lord Prince, the Longbottom Family, by Augusta Longbottom, Auror Ret., the Zabini family, by Marco Zabini, Potions Master, the Malfoy family, by Narcissa Malfoy, the Granger family, by Dr. Nicholas Granger . . .hearing to be scheduled in two days. Possible sentences to include suspension of medical license for Pomfrey and loss of positions of Headmaster and Head of Wizengamut and prison sentence for Albus Dumbledore. What a sorry end to what appeared to be an illustrious career.

Severus looked over the top of his paper at his wife. “I should be receiving a summons regarding this any day now, so that I can give a deposition to the barrister.”

“I figured as much. Will they wish to speak with me as well?”

“I don’t know. I suppose they may, if they feel a second witness is needed to confirm my story.”

Harry had finished reading Sirius’ letter by then and asked, “May I be excused, Papa?”

Severus glanced at Harry’s plate, relieved to see most of the boy’s breakfast eaten. “Yes. What are your plans for today, son? Will you go flying?”

“I might. After I write a letter to Sirius.”

“Good. Don’t forget to pick up your room beforehand,” Severus reminded.

“I won’t,” his son promised, then went upstairs.

After sending the letter off with Hedwig some ten minutes later, he hopped on his broom and flew for an hour before going into the study to inform the portrait of the news of the day.

* * * * * *

Two days later

Ministry of Magic:

Severus Snape, Lord Prince, sat quietly in the back of the courtroom, listening to the hearing with a slightly jaded expression. Despite the evidence against him, Severus feared that Dumbledore would work some of his famous charm upon the Wizengamut and somehow get himself declared not guilty. There had been a time when no Wizard council ever assembled would have convicted the old wizard of any sort of misdemeanor, even if they saw him do it with their own eyes. But the Headmaster’s star was falling and with the defeat of Voldemort by Augustus, Severus’ charge held quite a bit of clout, more than even he knew. Add to that the suits of the other powerful families involved and it was like an avalanche.

The Council had already ruled that Madame Pomfrey was to be forgiven for not summoning Harry’s family immediately when it became known that his life might be in danger because of coercion by the Headmaster, she had actually been put under a lesser Command Charm without knowing. So the Council fined her 100 Galleons and suspended her license for three months, which was only the rest of the summer and part of September. It was a relatively light sentence compared to what she might have gotten had Harry died while under her care.

She had publically apologized to the families of all three boys and personally begged Severus’ forgiveness during the intermission between her hearing and Albus’. She had practically thrown herself at his feet, startling the stoic Prince Patriarch half to death. “Please, Poppy, you have no need to . . .humiliate yourself this way.” He said, gently helping her to rise. “I know you were bewitched and you are as much a victim as my son. Hopefully this hearing will make certain this never happens again.”

“I just . . .to think that he could do such a thing . . .I trusted him, my lord Prince,” Poppy sniffled, blowing her nose upon a handkerchief he handed her. “I always thought he knew best, that what he did, he did for the greater good . . .”

Severus’ mouth twisted. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Madam Pomfrey. There are times I wonder if he deliberately placed Harry on the Dursleys’ doorstep so he would grow up ignorant of all things magical and thus be an easy mark to manipulate later on.”

“But he always claimed he felt relatives could raise Harry best and that there were blood wards set about the property.”

“You have seen for yourself how well his relatives raised him, Poppy,” said Severus sharply. “As for blood wards, when I went to Privet Drive, I checked for them after Petunia and Vernon were arrested. I found none. If they were ever there, they dissolved because there was no family bond between Petunia Dursley and her nephew. Blood alone cannot make a ward function. There must also be a willingness to protect and love or else the ward shall fail.”

Poppy shook her head angrily. “To think, once I thought he was a great man!”

“Perhaps once he was, before he allowed his pride and obsession with prophecy to blind him to all save his own interpretation of a boy’s destiny.” Severus replied. “As he was once blinded by his love for Grindelwald, whom he allowed to live and who later became Riddle’s tutor in the Dark Arts.”

“I . . .did not know that!” she exclaimed.

“Neither did I,” commented Sirius, who had also decided to attend the hearing, after reading the Prophet. He had not known half of what had gone on that night, and when he discovered the extent of Dumbledore’s cover up, he was furious. “I always thought Grindelwald was defeated and died in Azkaban.”

“No. That came out during the questioning. He admitted under Veritaserum that he allowed his former lover and friend to go free and used Polyjuice Potion upon one of Grindelwald’s loyal followers to send him to Azkaban in Grindelwald’s place. The other wizard agreed, he was dying anyway, and so Grindelwald escaped, living to tutor Voldemort before his student killed him. Oh yes, the “mercy” of Albus Dumbledore is astonishing, is it not?”

They followed him back into the Court of the Star Chamber, and listened as the Minister read the verdict.

“Based upon the evidence submitted by key witnesses under oath and your own admission under Veritaserum that you did knowingly remove the Sorcerer’s Stone from its safe vault in Gringotts Bank and hide it within Hogwarts School upon a supposition that it may have been a target of Death Eaters, in which case the safest place for it would have been Gringotts Bank. In doing so you placed the lives and wellbeing of your students, whom you were sworn to protect, in grave and unnecessary danger. You also hired one Quirinius Quirrell, a wizard with a suspect past who dabbled in voodoo and dark curses, as your Defense teacher, and failed to note the suspicious behavior of said teacher, who stuttered and babbled continuously in class and never taught students the basics of his curriculum and who showed classic signs of possession with his muscle spasms and twitches and sudden odd lapses of memory. Surely such an accredited wizard as yourself should have recognized those signs and had Quirrell watched. Instead you allowed him free run of your school and made him a protector of the very object he was seeking, ignoring numerous complaints by staff and students that he was incompetent and ought to be sacked. You also admit that you were hoping to lure Tom Riddle into a trap with the Stone as bait, further endangering said students. When Voldemort escaped your trap, you failed to inform law enforcement of this fact and failed to send the children home to safety. Lastly, you allowed a gravely injured child to be without comfort of family for over twenty-four hours and prevented your medi-witch from doing her duty by informing Harry Snape’s family immediately, committing the crime of neglect and causing a minor undue pain and suffering because you believed the child to be a Horcrux and therefore better off dead. Such actions are a direct violation of your oath to protect and defend the students under your care which you swore as Headmaster.”

Gasps of horror followed this statement, and Sirius half rose to his feet, his eyes glittering. “That miserable bugger! I ought to—!”

Severus grabbed his arm. “Sit down, Black! For once let justice be served.”

“As it was served to me?”

“Hush!”

The Minister continued. “It is the judgment of this Council that you are guilty of all charges and shall pay the Prince family a sum of 1000 Galleons and 500 Galleons to the Longbottom and Zabini families and the same amount to the Malfoy and Granger families. You are further stripped of your titles of Chief Warlock and Headmaster and shall serve a period of no less than ten and no more than twenty-five years in Azkaban. This court is adjourned.”

Severus breathed a sigh of relief when no mention of the fact that Harry Snape was Harry Potter had been spoken of in the verdict. He did not know how Dumbledore had managed to avoid blurting that out, unless he had Obliviated the knowledge from his mind beforehand. For that, at least, he was grateful.

“Satisfied, Black?” he queried, rising from his seat.

“Yes, but I’d still like to kill him,” Sirius growled. “I heard they brought Lucius Malfoy in for questioning this morning.”

Severus nodded. “Yes, and I’m sure we’ll be reading the results of that little question and answer session in the evening edition of the paper.”

He began to make his way out of the courtroom, only to run smack into a crowd of people all blocking the Ministry courtyard.

“What in bloody blazes!” He muttered.

He was just about to start shoving a path through when he heard a newsie yelling, “Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Lucius Malfoy’s Revelation that Harry Snape is really Harry Potter! Confession Under Veritaserum! Get your copy here!”

Severus froze. Then he swore furiously. “Bloody damn Malfoy! I should have known he’d sing like a bloody canary first chance he got!”

Sirius just shook his head. “Any chance you can just say he lied?”

“Confession under Veritaserum, Black. The cat’s out of the bag now.”

Within minutes someone recognized them and they were surrounded by reporters all thrusting quills and recorder globes in their face.

“Lord Prince, how did you manage to keep the fact that you were raising Harry Potter a secret all these years?” demanded Rita Skeeter.

“By keeping my mouth shut,” Severus growled. This was all he bloody needed!

She turned to Sirius. “Mr. Black, as Harry Potter’s godfather, will you now be gaining custody of him?”

Severus felt his heart still, and he waited for Sirius to answer.

The other wizard cleared his throat. “No. Harry is perfectly fine where he is, and I will not force him to leave the only family he has known. He is blood-adopted by Lord Prince and that’s how he will stay.”

The reporters all stared in shock and then began scribbling frantically.

Severus remained silent for a good five seconds before turning to the other wizard and saying, “Thank you, Black. I never would have thought you had it in you.”

“You learn something new every day, Snape. Consider it partial payment for me being an ass all those years. And because Harry loves you.”

Severus nodded. “I still don’t like you, Black, but for the sake of my son . . .you can meet us at Diagon Alley next weekend and take Harry for ice cream.”

“I don’t like you either, but I’ll call a truce for Harry’s sake. And I’ll see you Saturday next, Lord Prince.” Then he bowed to Severus and Apparated away.

It was a moment before Severus could free himself of the crush of reporters to Apparate himself back to Foxfire Hall, where he broke the news to Sandra and Harry.

They took it rather well, all things considered, including the verdict in the Headmaster’s case. Both Snapes were delighted at Sirius’ show of support and then Sandra said, “Sev, sit down. There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked uneasily, sensing that she was nervous.

“It’s a bit early to tell for sure, but . . .I think you’re going to be a father again, my lord Prince.”

“Mum, you’re pregnant?” Harry exclaimed.

“According to the Conception potion I just took, yes.” She looked at her husband, who appeared as if he had taken a Bludger to the head. “Sev? Aren’t you . . .going to say anything?”

Severus blinked and opened his mouth.

Then Hotspur popped into the drawing room, grinning broadly from ear to ear. “Milord, milady, Master Harry!” he practically shouted. “A . . .a miracle has occurred! My Lina has quickened with child! I’m going to be a father! I’m so happy!” Then he burst into tears.

The Snapes just stared at him.

Then Severus said, “Merlin help me, two pregnant females!”

“Severus!” Sandra smacked him on the top of the head. “Is that all you have to say?”

He smirked at her. “That and thank you, Sandra my heart.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. Then he added, smirking, “I think.”

She promptly gave him another swat.

Harry patted Hotspur on the back and congratulated him. “But Hotspur, how did it happen? Err . . .I mean . . .I thought you and Lina couldn’t have kids.”

“That’s why it’s a miracle, young master,” said the elf reverently. “After all these centuries finally an elfkin of my own!”

Harry caught him before he fainted. “Here, Hotspur. Sit next to Papa. You can see which of you passes out first. I’m going to tell Grandpa’s portrait.” He placed the elf next to Severus and turned to bolt.

But he wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid the playful swat Severus dealt him. “Hey! What was that for?” he cried, rubbing his backside.

“For being a disrespectful brat. You’d better set a good example for your little brother or sister, Henry Snape.”

“Of course, Papa,” Harry said solemnly. He began backing slowly out of the room. “I’ll teach the kid everything I know . . .including how to drive you crazy!” he added, then he bolted for the safety of Augustus’ study, laughing.

“Oh, Lord Severus,” groaned Hotspur. “I think we’re in serious trouble.”

“You can say that again, Hotspur. So much for peace and quiet.”

“But at least our children will grow up in a world free of Voldemort and those like him someday,” Sandra pointed out, hugging him.

“Very true,” her husband remarked, and kissed her again. “At least there’s peace on earth again.” Then he wondered how long it would last. A moment later he banished that thought from his mind, for he had more important things to think about. Like the fact that Foxfire Hall was about to become a nursery. He prayed Sandra’s pregnancy was an easy one and she was delivered safely and so was Lina. He also hoped the child within her was a girl, for he thought a girl wouldn’t be half as hard to deal with, and he would love to see Harry with a little sister.