Epilogue

Six and a half years later . . .

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table where his friend and longtime rival, Draco Malfoy, was already seated, and wished that he could have already been sorted too.

"Snape, Harry!" Minerva called out then.

The hall broke out in whispers as he made his way up to the front.

"Can you believe the greasy git actually reproduced?" Seemed to be the caliber of most of them; eliciting more than a few well placed growls on Harry's part as he passed them.

He gave a small smile to his father as he passed the professors and made his way to the small stool that was always put out for the Sortings. Minerva—er, Professor McGonagall—handed him the Sorting Hat with a smile and he put it on carefully. Secretly, he hoped that no one would see how badly his hands were shaking.

"Ah Mr. Potter-Snape! What a pleasant surprise to find you sitting under my brim," the hat chortled out loudly into his ear almost immediately.

"It's just 'Snape,' but thanks though," he answered quietly within in his mind.

"It was just Potter to begin with. You mustn't forget that," the hat admonished.

"Yes well, can we just get on with it please?"

The Sorting Hat chuckled in his ear before continuing, and Harry tried to fight back his increasing anxiety with a few well placed deep breaths.

"Let's see here then, down to business and all that. I can see that you have a great deal of loyalty to your father; making Hufflepuff simultaneously a good and horrible choice, am I correct?"

Harry didn't respond. It was hard enough just remembering to breathe.

"And quite intelligent too, I see that as well. They may have to move you up a level or two in some of your classes when they see exactly what you understand."

"Then I'll learn to hide it better," was his unthinking response.

"Oh, your father wouldn't be happy about that, I daresay."

"I just don't want to be a freak," he admitted very very softly; his mind automatically going back to his earlier memories. He still remembered calling his father a freak and being so very afraid at how the man—his Tall Man—would respond.

"Come now, none of that. He didn't get angry at you and he wasn't even your father then. Being a Ravenclaw would allow your natural intelligence a place to shine."

"They're too concerned with book smarts though," he countered logically, secretly wishing the hat would hurry up. People had started whispering within the Great Hall over the length of time that it was taking him to get sorted. He could hear them.

"And you're a survivor, aren't you? There's more to intelligence than just knowledge, isn't there," the hat replied; thankfully without any additional side comments.

"Yes." Harry was far more aware than most of how much truth there was to that statement.

"Strength of character means that you would fit in well in Gryffindor, but perhaps not in the long run. They don't think like you do."

"I'm not an idiot," he scoffed derisively.

"Hardly. Well, I suppose there's only one thing to do."

"And that is?" Harry prompted when the Hat didn't continue.

"Well, to place you in SLYTHERIN!" The last word shouted aloud, effectively shocking the hall into silence for a split second. Harry managed to get the hat off of his head before the Slytherin table broke into cheers.

"We got Snape!" He realized Draco was shouting, and he let a small smile grace his lips as he walked over to the table.

. . .

Although Severus had told himself that he would be proud of Harry regardless of where he was sorted, he was secretly relieved when the Hat had called out "Slytherin." A Slytherin son he could handle; he wasn't as sure that he could have handled a Gryffindor one. Certainly, Gryffindors did have their uses; after all, Lily had been one, had she not? And even Minerva, for all of her annoyingly chivalrous actions and honorable notions, had still proven herself to be a formidable ally and friend to both him and his son throughout the last six and a half years.

Six and a half years of being Harry's father; he shook his head in slight amusement. It was a wonder that he wasn't entirely white haired yet. Speaking of being white haired though, his eyes slid automatically over to the headmaster. He certainly respected the old man a great deal more than he had when Harry had first come to live with him.

His thoughts turned to the petite, thirteen year old child currently seated to his employer's right. Wrapping his mind around the idea of raising his enemy's son was hard enough, but it was nothing compared to the convoluted relationship that existed between Ariana and Albus. Not for the first time, Severus found himself thanking the fates that he was an only child. Merlin only knew what would have happened had there been another Snape child running around the household when he had been growing up.

He stole another glance down towards that end of the table and fought back a smirk. This Ariana had come to them as a six year old and therefore had never been tortured by angry muggle boys. This Ariana did not remember the death of her mother, let alone the arrest of her father. As a result, this Ariana had no fear of magic, and actually was a prodigy of sorts; more often than not giving Albus a run for his money. She had only retained a few memories of her previous life and for all intents and purposes really was starting over.

The child had started out as a typical Hogwarts student—sorted into Hufflepuff, of all places—but soon had risen far above her peers, especially in Herbology. In fact, arrangements had been made over the summer for her to be taken on as an apprentice by Pomona Sprout at the beginning of this term, Ariana's third year.

It was odd how the existence of the child had made such a distinct change in the demeanor of the headmaster. Then again, he thought ruefully, Harry did much the same thing to me.

. . .

Harry and the other first year Slytherin boys were getting ready for bed later that night when Draco started in on him.

"What is that?" The blond haired boy had pointed disdainfully at his bed.

"You already know," he answered calmly, staring darkly at his friend.

"If it was stupid when you were four, then it's idiotic now, Har'."

Harry made a face. He hated Draco's nickname for him.

"It wasn't any stupider than Merlin the Dragon," he tossed back, grinning widely as the pale faced boy turned slightly pink.

"Yeah, but is he here now?" Draco countered, quickly regaining his equilibrium. They had an audience now and he had to make sure he came out looking good.

"I don't know. Have any of the rest of you seen a stuffed purple dragon anywhere?" Harry asked the other boys with a smirk of his own.

The group of eleven year olds snickered around them and Harry crossed his arms menacingly, silently daring Draco to push him just a bit farther.

"At least it wasn't a stupid pink bear!" Draco scowled back at him, crossing his arms too.

"Pink?" Nott asked with a chuckle of his own, peering past Harry to where his old pink friend still lay.

"My dad made him for me," he answered, silently daring them to say anything against their head of house.

"Still though Harry, you're eleven. You don't need a stupid stuffed animal to sleep with anymore," Draco said derisively, the other first years nodding their heads in agreement.

"He's not stupid," Harry answered defensively. "Bears are the best animals in the world."

Most of the boys openly scoffed at his statement, but Draco was the only one to actually respond.

"Yeah, and why do you think that, huh?" Draco asked; a small smirk already present on his face.

"Well, for one, their sense of smell is seven times stronger than a bloodhound's," he threw back quickly, stepping right up in Draco's face.

"So what?"

"And they can also do this," he said smiling widely before turning himself into a bear and growling loudly at the entire room.

Silence was the only reaction, and then screams could be heard up and down the hallway as Nott and the other first year boys quickly ran away from him.

Harry quickly morphed back into his human form and glared at Draco. He hadn't run and instead was smirking in a very self-satisfied manner back at him.

"You're a dope, you know that?" Harry pointed out exasperatedly.

"Yeah, but the look on their faces, Har'? Priceless!"

. . .

It wasn't any surprise to Severus to learn that he was needed in the Slytherin dorms that very first night. He knew that his Slytherins were sneakier than all of the other houses combined. He was used to that. On the other hand, he also knew that some of his students bore closer watching—Marcus Flint came to mind offhand, and he was sure that Draco Malfoy would be included in that group soon enough.

"Come on, Uncle Sev! It was really funny!" His godson tried arguing with him after he finally got the truth out of him.

"Mr. Nott," he said by way of answering, turning to look at the thin boy to his left. "Did you find it 'really funny?'" Severus asked in a very dry voice.

"Not particularly, sir," was the small boy's serious response.

Severus watched in closely guarded amusement as his godson's face took on a distinctly pouting expression.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Malfoy?" He narrowed his eyes in warning at the boy.

"Why are you so angry at me? Harry's the one at fault!" Draco blustered.

"And you were the instigator of such fault. I believe we've had this conversation before, and I doubt that it is the last time, given your history," he let a small sneer come across his face. "Detention tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy. And Mr. Snape?" He turned to his contrite looking son. "A word in private, if you please."

He turned on his heel and led his son to the bathroom. After casting a silencing spell, he put his hands on the boy's shoulders and kneeled in front of him.

"What have I told you about letting your temper take away your control?" He asked calmly, looking into his son's vibrant green eyes.

"I know, I know dad," Harry answered calmly, if not a bit tiredly. "He really can be an arse, you know?"

"You should also know better than most how he has been raised," Severus answered softly.

"Yeah, I have had a better role model," his son said with a small laugh.

Severus found himself smiling back.

"No doubt you remember our agreement?"

"Yeah dad, I do," his son answered slowly. "Any unsupervised animagi transformations," he answered in a bored tone, "will result in a loss of flying privileges for the rest of the week," Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "But dad, I wasn't unsupervised. I was here, in Slytherin. You have wards all over this place. If I had wanted to be unsupervised, I would have dismantled them first. It's not as though I don't know how," his son argued. "Or I could have cast a silencing spell," he added.

"So why did you not?" Severus asked, just the slightest bit intrigued.

"'Cause I didn't want to go to sleep without doing this first," his son answered mysteriously before engulfing Severus in a hug.

Severus wrapped his arms around his son's back and pulled him closer to his chest.

"What a sneaky little Slytherin you've been!" he remarked proudly into his child's ear. Harry only responded by turning his head and pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

"Will you be okay without me tonight Daddy?" His son whispered to him.

"I believe I will be now," Severus answered with a small grin.

"Good," his child said, letting go of his neck finally and taking a few steps backwards. "Goodnight Professor Snape," he added formally before heading back to bed.

"Goodnight son," Severus answered softly to the empty room.