Minerva McGonagall watched as Professor Snape swept up to the staff table and lowered himself into his seat. She sighed as he loaded his plate.

Snape looked at her. "And just what is your problem, Minerva?"

Ignoring his snark, she said, "Oh, I'm just wondering what's going to happen this Halloween, that's all."

Severus snorted. "Albus will use his yearly excuse to fill the student body with enough candy to make them move at the speed of snitches until they hit their stride and drop like a bad quaffle pass, of course, what else?"

Choking back a laugh, Minerva shook her head. "Since when do you use Quidditch analogies?" When Snape growled, she really did laugh. "But the feast wasn't what I meant. For the love of Merlin, last year it was a troll!"

Severus knew instantly to what she was referring. "Well, as Quirrell is no longer a part of the school body, you'll hardly need to worry about Potter becoming mixed up in one of his insanities." He waved a fork expressively. "Potter will come, stuff his face, and be just as unmanageable as always come the morrow."

Minerva gave him a rather scorching glare. "He's hardly as bad as you make him sound." Then, she frowned. "Besides, I doubt he'll come to the feast this year. In fact, from what I understand he didn't want to attend last year, but thought attendance was mandatory."

Severus gave her a look. "Why on earth would he not want to attend? All children want candy and sweets."

Minerva's lips were thin. "The same reason he didn't want to come last year, as Miss Granger was kind enough to explain to me when I asked. He doesn't feel it would be right. Miss Granger told me that last year he read one of the books about him and found out exactly when Lily and James died." She watched as the fork briefly paused halfway to Severus mouth. "Miss Granger thinks he feels it would be disrespectful."

Severus had no response to this. He himself always visited their graves to pay his respects every Halloween. After a minute of Minerva watching him expectantly, he asked, "He read it in a book?"

She nodded. "Rather a cold way to find out, I thought." She paused as she heard the voice of the current defense teacher come filtering through the door. Then she let out a short laugh. "Though, if anything, the only thing I may have to worry about is making sure Gilderoy doesn't get himself hexed. He's been planning a party for students and professors, and he's been very irritating with his invitations."

As they watched, Potter came striding through the door, being closely followed by Lockhart himself, who was gesturing dramatically as he spoke. Even all the way up at the staff table he was clearly audible. "Come now, lad, it's all Hallows Eve! A celebration of our heritage of magic! You simply must come!"

Though far less...exuberant, Potter's response was equally forceful. "No professor, I simply mustn't."

When the blond man reached out a hand and grabbed Potter by the shoulder, spinning him around to face him, Minerva let out a growl that had Septima Vector wisely scooting a few inches farther away from her left side. Minerva took no notice.

"On second thought, I may just let him get hexed."

Standing in front of the Slytherin table, Lockhart continued trying to convince Potter, blissfully unaware of the impending danger from the staff table.  "Besides, this is the night of your victory over He Who Must Not Be Named! A great day for wizardom!"

Severus glanced up as he heard a sharp cracking sound from Potter's general vicinity and found several of his students staring up into the rafters. Following their gaze, he saw that one of the beams had nearly snapped in two, which should have been impossible, given the strength of the support wards on the ceiling.

Minerva had obviously noticed too, as she had already drawn her wand and had it aimed at the beam, evidently prepared for anything worse. Lockhart, however, who was almost directly under it, merrily continued to dig himself deeper. Hands fisted on hips he said, "Now, don't you think your parents would want you to celebrate that at least?"

The beam gave way with an even louder crack and an almighty splintering wrench, but before it fell more than a few inches, Minerva had it immobilized and busied herself with restoring it to it's proper place a scowl to match one of Severus's on her face.

Potter appeared not to have noticed. He looked at the defense professor and said with a strange, casual coldness, "It's a bit hard knowing what they'd want, them being dead and all."

Lockhart blinked before grinning broadly. "Well I-" He stopped and blinked again, this time looking somewhat dazed. "What was I doing again?"

Even from the staff table, Severus could see Potter's brow furrow in puzzlement. Before the second year could respond however, another voice said, "You were just on your way up to the staff table for breakfast, Gilderoy."

Severus started slightly as he recognized the voice of Charity Burbage, the muggle studies professor. Lockhart shook his head and mumbled, "Yes, yes, of course." and headed up towards the table.

Minerva grinned as she finished repairing the beam and sat back. "Charity always was a dab hand with confundus." She scowled. "Though, if Gilderoy tries something like that again, I'll give him a lot worse than a confundus!"

Charity evidently felt the same way. She huffed after the man and adjusted her robe. "Abominable man! If I hear him try another insensitive line like that, I'll...I'll give him gingivitis!" She smiled as Harry let out a clipped laugh. "If nothing else it'll get him to keep his teeth flashing to a minimum for a while."

Potter smiled slightly. "Why not just ruin his teeth?"

Charity rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "There's an idea. I have no idea what jinx I'd need though. I'll have to look it up." She frowned and looked him square in the eye. "If he keeps pestering you about his silly little gathering, do let me know. I really need to practice my hexes."

Potter nodded, looking slightly apprehensive. "Yes, professor."

Charity gave him a decisive nod and a smile, sending him on towards the Gryffindor table before marching up to the staff table herself, leaving several impressed looking Slytherins behind her. She sat down next to Severus with a thump and filled her plate.

Minerva put her wand away, looking mildly concerned. "Thank you for your timely intervention, Charity."

Charity smiled lightly. "Not a problem Minerva. I saw what happened to the ceiling, too. The poor child was already upset enough as it was." She glanced over to where Lockhart was sitting. "Besides, I could do with having one breakfast where I don't have to listen to his boasting." She, Severus, and Minerva all watched as Lockhart fumbled with his knife and fork, apparently unable to use them properly. Finally, Aurora, ever the soul of peace, took pity on him and charmed them for him. Severus thought it had more to do with the fact that Lockhart kept stabbing perilously close to her hand, but he kept that thought to himself.

Charity frowned slightly. "I think I might have overdone it a bit." She didn't seem terribly unhappy about it.

Neither did Minerva. "Just as long as it wears off before classes start."

Charity nodded. "I'll finite it if it hasn't." She ate quietly for a moment, frowning. Then she swallowed a mouthful of eggs and said, "You know, I can't help but feel that poor child has gotten the short end of the stick, as it were."

Ignoring the muffled sigh from Severus, Minerva said, "How do you mean?"

Charity shook her head. "Well, you know that Hagrid gave the child that album of his parents last year, yes?" When Minerva nodded, she continued. "I helped him get those photos.  We found some from when they were married, and a good deal of his father before and during his school days." She sighed. "His mother, however... no such luck."

Severus stiffened as Minerva spoke. "Why in Merlin's name not? Surely, someone had some."

Charity nodded. "Well, yes we were able to get a few from when she had graduated, but that was all. No one seems to have any from when she was in school or before she came to Hogwarts."

Minerva looked surprised. "Not even her sister?"

Severus let out a derisive snort.

Charity eyed him strangely, but said, "I sent her a letter the muggle way, I thought she might prefer that, and the response was fairly succinct." She waved her fork expressively. "No photos left of her." She paused when Severus let out another snort. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Severus shook his head. "There wouldn't be any pictures of her, not in that house at any rate."

Charity and Minerva both looked at him questioningly.

He sighed. "Let's just say that Petunia was the withered flower to Lily's blossom." He shook his head again. "Petunia wasn't fond of anything to do with magic. I'd be very surprised if she kept anything of Lily's."

Charity frowned. "Which is just the problem. Everyone knows about his father, or has some anecdote to tell about him, but no one knows anything about his mother. I overheard him the other day saying that all anyone ever says about her is that he has her eyes."

Minerva frowned too. "He asked me yesterday if I knew where their graves were. Apparently, he's never visited them, let alone known their location."

Charity's mouth dropped open. "His aunt and uncle never even took him?!"

Severus coughed. "I believe the most contact Petunia ever had with Lily was on her birthday and Christmas."

Charity's mouth went into a thin line. "Well, Halloween is tomorrow. And if Gilderoy causes any more trouble, I'll make him wish he hadn't!"

Minerva snorted. "You may get your chance. Potter has defense first thing."

As they started chattering about other matters, Severus returned his attention to his meal, realizing that for perhaps the first time, he and Charity were in agreement on something.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A number of hours later, Severus found himself facing Potter himself. He only remembered that the boy's class was that day when he trooped in with Weasley and Granger. Predictably enough, one of his Slytherins started causing trouble with Potter midway through the lesson. What surprised Severus was that it was not Draco, for once.

Considering how close she had been to the debacle at breakfast, Pansy Parkinson really ought to have known better, he thought. Especially, considering her topic.

"What's the matter, Potter? Too good to join the rest of us tomorrow? Or are you just going to spend the whole day crying in front of some grave?"

Had she picked any other topic, Severus might have let things be. The Slytherin-Gryffindor feud was never very pronounced in his class, with the notable exception of Potter and Malfoy, if only because they all knew Snape wouldn't tolerate it. This, however, was a good exception to the rule, With the level of uncontrolled magic was eviidently capable of. Severus' classroom was much less heavily warded than the great hall and a wave of magic that strong could prove disastrous.

A fact that the rest of his snakes seemed to have realized as well. They were all moving steadily away from Parkinson, and even some of the Gryffindors were looking uneasy. Parkinson, however, like Lockhart that morning, was either unaware of the danger or simply didn't care.

"Probably going to cry. Pity there's no one to put you to bed at night."

To his credit, though Severus was loath to admit it, Potter's temper was fairly well contained. Parkinson shrieked as her cauldron exploded into a vertical column of metal debris and ruined potion, before splashing back onto the table like rain. Severus was rather impressed that the boy had kept his magic contained enough to keep anything from going anywhere but straight up and back down. That didn't stop him from assigning him detention for the following night, however.

Potter was the first one out the door at the bell, Weasley and Granger both a close second. Weasley was complaining loudly about the unfairness of Harry getting a detention the night of Halloween, while Granger was trying unsuccessfully to calm him and point out that he hadn't taken any points from them, for once. Severus ignored them both, instead opting to make an impromptu visit to see Albus for his permission to make a slight excursion. This obtained, he prepared himself for the following night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Potter reported for the detention the following night, Severus was ready and waiting. He was pleased to see that the boy had obeyed the note he had sent and brought his traveling cloak. Although he was obviously confused by the strange sight of a pristine-looking pink, high-heeled shoe on his potions professor's desk, he didn't ask about it.  A wise choice in Severus' opinion. He never understood the Ministry of Magic's fascination with muggle objects when it came to making a portkey. They were worse than Arthur Weasley in that respect.

Severus pushed the thought aside and said, "Put on your cloak and grab hold of the shoe, Mister Potter." If anything, this only served to make the boy even more confused, but he did as he was told. As Snape also laid a hand on the piece of footwear, the boy looked up.

"Um, sir?" When Snape narrowed his eyes and looked at him expectantly, he asked, "Just what is this about?"

Severus smiled thinly, a sight he was sure the boy had never seen before. "Consider this a pass for one night free of our usual animosity, Potter."

The boy only looked more confused and slightly disturbed, as well. "Why's it a high-heeled shoe professor?"

At this, Severus sighed. "Do not ask me to explain the Ministry of Magic's inanities when it comes to portkeys ,Potter, as the answer is something that eludes me as well." Then there was jerk behind his navel as the traveling device activated, and any further conversation was cut off.

They landed heavily in the middle of a large town square. Or at least, Severus landed heavily. Potter on the other hand, somehow ended up sitting on the ground looking dazed, his hair even more messy than usual. After a moment, he shook his head and got up. "Sir, just what was that?"

Snape smiled thinly, again. "You would have to be the one in ten that can't land on their feet. At least you didn't land on your face," he muttered. Then he sobered. "That, Potter, was a Portkey. They are used for traveling long distances at a rate faster than brooms and when apparition or floo travel is not possible. Their use is heavily regulated by the ministry."

Potter winced. "I think I prefer brooms."

Snape grunted. "Most do."

"I can see why." Potter started looking around as Snape snorted softly. "Just where are we, sir?" He glanced at what looked like a large obelisk that had names written on it, sitting off to their left as he spoke. "This place almost looks familiar, but I don't know why it-" he broke off as the obelisk suddenly glowed and changed before his eyes into a statue of three people sitting on a bench.

There was a man with untidy hair and glasses. Next to him sat a woman with long hair and a kind and pretty face. She was holding a sleeping baby in her arms. Potter swallowed.

"Sir? What is this place?" he asked again. His voice sounded a little ragged, Severus noticed.

"This, Potter, is Godric's Hollow. The home where you lived before the first downfall of the Dark Lord."

Potter swallowed again. "Are those my parents?" Snape nodded. Potter took a few steps closer to the statue. He looked at the faces for a long time. "Is...is this what things could have been like?" he asked softly. Severus knew the boy wasn't talking to him. "Could we have been like this all the time? Happy, I mean. A family?"

Severus shook himself. For the boy, what could have been rightfully should have been. He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to travel that road however.

"Potter."

The boy didn't move.

"Potter!" he snapped. The boy flinched and turned. "Come with me please." He was fairly certain it was the please that did it. He doubted anything else would have gotten the boy to move from the statue.

They set off up the street, the boy looking wistfully back, watching as the statue transformed back into an obelisk as they drew away from it. Severus led him through several streets, finally drawing level with a large iron gate near a church. Severus waved his wand and the gate opened soundlessly, revealing rows of graves. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder and gently steered him forward.

They passed several familiar names, including several Dumbledores and an Abbot. Finally, however, they reached the object of their search. Very softly, Severus said, "Here they are." Potter didn't move. Severus gave him a gentle push. "Go on."

The boy approached the graves and sank to his knees, tracing the inscriptions on the headstone. Finally, he said very quietly, "I never even knew how old they were until now." He ran his fingers over the text underneath the dates of their death. "‘The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death?'"

Severus nodded. "It means life after death, the afterlife."

Potter just nodded and wrapped his arms around himself. Severus could see that there were tears on his face. "Thanks sir, for bringing me here I mean. I've never been. It's...nice to know where they are." He choked back a sob as the man nodded. "I mean, Hagrid gave me that album last year, and it's wonderful, really it is." He shook his head violently, sending tears flying like rain, though they were quickly replaced on his face. "It's just not the same as seeing them, the statue, proof that they really did care." He looked down. "I can't remember any of it! All I can remember from that far back is a load of green light."

Severus started in surprise. He hadn't thought the boy could possibly remember the failed killing curse.

The boy went on, not paying the slightest attention to the man's face. "Everyone likes to tell me how my parents would have wanted this or that for me, or how they would have felt about something." He looked up now, his face distraught. "I can't agree with them, because I don't know! I have no idea how they would have felt, or what they would have wanted! No one ever seems to understand that!"

Severus swallowed and his voice shook a little as he spoke. "Come with me, there's something else you should see." He gestured towards the entrance. "Say your farewells for today, Mister Potter."

Potter started to turn back to the headstone, then stopped. "Sir, will I be able to come back here again?"

Severus nodded. "I'm sure the headmaster can arrange something. He managed to get approval for this visit on a moment's notice. A formal arrangement is hardly beyond his capabilities."

The boy nodded and turned back to the grave. "I guess this is goodbye for now," he whispered. "I'll come back, soon." He turned away, allowing Snape to lead him from the graveyard.

Lost in a haze, he almost didn't realize they had stopped. In fact, if Snape hadn't been holding onto him, Potter probably would have crashed into him. Snape said nothing of this, though, instead gesturing towards the ruined building before them.

The boy stared at it for a moment before comprehension dawned on his face. "Sir, was this..." he trailed off, unable to finish.

Severus nodded. "Yes, Potter. This was your home. Look." He laid a hand on the rusted gate. Instantly, a large sign sprouted out of the ground, rising up like some kind of fast growing flower.

The boy stepped closer and read the golden lettering on it aloud. "On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore their family apart." Other people had written around the words, some had only left initials, others had left messages. All of them were words of support.

In the silence that fell after the boy stopped speaking, Severus said quietly, "There are those who understand, Mister Potter, exactly how you feel about your parents. They may never identify themselves to you, but they are out there all the same. It is here that they choose to say that they understand." The boy nodded as the man pulled out a pocket watch. "The feast is nearly over. I'm afraid it's high time we returned." He frowned. "I would have liked to give you a little more time, but it's not to be, I'm afraid." He pulled out the pink high heel shoe, again. "Grab on."

Potter did so, and then looked the potions master in the eyes. "Thank you for bringing me, sir, really. But why did you do it?"

Severus sighed. "Let's just say, I owed it to your mother as much as I did to you." Then, the portkey activated and any response the boy might have made was lost to the nausea of traveling.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning at breakfast, Severus watched as Potter received a large envelope from his owl. He watched as the boy read the note attached and opened the envelope. He gave a short nod when the boy looked back up at him, mouthing his thanks. Really, giving the boy some photos of his mother was the least he could do. It wasn't as if he didn't have copies.

As he happily sifted through the pictures, Harry felt his mind drift back to the sign in front of his old home and the words written upon it...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Now, over five years later, the messages on the poor wooden sign were more numerous than ever. They were still all messages of encouragement. Harry frowned slightly as he caught sight of one in very familiar writing. Squinting slightly, he read it aloud. "Do not let sight nor sound lead you from the truth, and all shall be well."

Hermione frowned. "They shouldn't have written on the sign!" She sounded indignant.

She was taken aback when Harry beamed at her. "I'm glad they did, it's brilliant.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Severus tried to give Potter the memories. He wanted the boy, no...man now, to see the truth.

But Potter just forced them to go back to where they came from. "I don't need your memories sir. I know whose side you're on."

He said it with such conviction, Severus despaired of him ever knowing the truth. Then, something was forced down his throat, something cool and warm and refreshing, all at once. Something that caused the aches and pains to vanish, Nagini's venom to fail and wash away.

The younger man held up an empty vial, grinning. "Fawkes donated to the cause years ago, sir." Then more softly, he said, "I've known you were on our side for a long time sir."

Dimly at first, but with increasing clarity, Severus registered that Granger and Weasley were there, as well, looking - to his astonishment - relieved to see him recovering. Potter held out a hand to the older man.

"Sir?" he grinned. "Don't you think it's time everyone knew?"

Severus gave a small smile and grasped the offered hand, allowing it to help him to his feet. Then, he brushed off his robes and accepted his wand back from the younger man. "I think, Mister Potter, that now is hardly the time for Hufflepuff validations."

If anything, the sound of his usual snark made their smiles even wider.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Over the years, Granger would often remark that that particular day was in many ways indicative that the apocalypse was going to be coming sooner rather than later. Potter would argue back that it was another day that held that distinction. Really though, Severus oftentimes thought that she had a very good point.

After all, it was on that day that the house elves rose up as one to fight against the witches and wizards of Voldemort's camp, led by an elf that had once been devoted to the very same people. It was on that day that Bellatrix Lestrange met her match in the fiery temper and familial devotion of Molly Weasley. It was on that day that Percy Weasley finally saw the truth and rejoined his family. And it was on that day that Voldemort, faced with the combined might of both his greatest enemy and his most trusted spy, finally fell.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was many hours after that final battle, when Poppy Pomfrey was patching them all up, that any of them had the inclination or time for questions.

Severus had more than a few himself. "Just how long have you known my allegiances, Potter?"

The younger man shrugged. "Since fifth year, sir." Upon seeing the older man's surprised expression he said, "I've known ever since I first saw inside Dumbledore's pensieve that you were on our side, really."

The older man frowned. "And the phoenix tears? What made you think they could possibly help? The Dark Lord isn't...wasn't known for being merciful enough to allow escape."

The younger man grinned. "Well, yeah, but I did know how he thought." He tapped the scar on his forehead meaningfully. "A killing curse would have been too simple for his tastes. He liked dramatics."

Severus admitted to himself that that was true.

Potter went on. "I figured that if he found out you were a spy, he'd torture you, first, and make sure Dumbledore and I knew it." He frowned. "But I also knew that he would've killed you if he thought it would help him or if he thought you didn't serve his purposes, anymore."

Severus reflected that that certainly was true. "The Dark Lord seemed unprepared for the possibility of my survival."

Everyone laughed at this. Minerva was the first to actually speak though. "So, what will you do now, Severus? Will you retain your position as Headmaster?"

Severus shook his head. "No. I think sentiments will be far too strong for me to do such a thing. In truth...I have no idea what I shall do."

Minerva eyed him over the top of her spectacles for a moment. "I see. That being the case, would you consent to return at take up a post as a professor of this school?"

Severus stared at her, astonished. When it looked as though he wouldn't reply, Potter jumped in.

"Please do, sir! We're all coming back, too. It's not like anyone could really have learned the right things with Voldemort and the Carrows running around here. We want to finish school properly." Severus stared at him as he continued. "Dumbledore's portrait said that the curse on the Defense against the Dark Arts position died with Voldemort, so now you could teach it permanently."

Minerva spoke up again. "Or your old Potions post. Horace has already told me that he wants to retire properly once the last of You Know Who's forces are rounded up." She paused. "Or even Muggle Studies, I suppose, since we seem to be in need of a professor there, as well."

Severus laughed. Loudly. They all stared at him. Finally, he ran out of breath and coughed slightly. "I think you'll find, Minerva, that Charity Burbage is more than capable of handling her former post."

Potter blinked. "But I saw her get killed in a vision months ago."

"Now really, Mister Potter!"

The young man jumped and turned around to face Madame Pomfrey. Then he blinked. There were two of them standing side by side.

The one on the left spoke again. "Did you or did you not read the message on the sign?" She seemed to shimmer abruptly, and before his eyes became none other than Charity Burbage herself. Smiling a little at the astonishment on everyone's faces, she said, "It's just as well I'm quite skilled with healing magic. Otherwise, this would have never worked."

Granger turned to Severus. "So, the Professor Burbage that was killed?"

Severus nodded. "Was nothing more than a transformed rat. I thought it was only fitting, considering it was Pettigrew who was tasked with capturing her. What better way to fool a rat than with another rat?" He glanced at Minerva. "How did you think Poppy always managed to be on duty?"

Minerva smiled. " I suppose that should have been telling." Her smile widened.  "So, that's one post we needn't worry about."

Charity sat down in a chair with a thump. "You will come back, won't you? This castle won't be the same without your trademark snarkiness. I know I'd miss it."

Severus swallowed. "I...I don't know what to say."

Minerva smiled again and stood up. "Well then... if that's the case, consider this the final manipulation." Her smile widened into a grin, and threatened to break into a laugh as Severus stared up at her. "Say yes...please. I don't think anyone in this room would be here if you hadn't been here to watch over us."

Potter nodded. "Please, sir!" He grinned too. "Besides, just think of what Skeeter and the other idiots at the prophet will say when the news comes out."

Severus started chuckling lightly. "I suppose there's always that. Very well, I'll stay."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later that night, as they sat at one of the tables eating dinner, Potter said, "You know, sir, I knew you were good a lot earlier than fifth year."

Severus eyed him. "Really, Potter?"

The young man nodded. "Yeah. Since second year, when you took me to see my parents." Severus swallowed, but the boy pressed on. "No one ever did something like that for me, ever showed me they understood, or that anyone else did. I think it was the first time I stopped feeling so alone, knowing there were others out there who knew how I felt."

He looked at the man earnestly. "Now...thanks to the hallows, I think I really do know how my parents would have felt." He grinned. "I know they'd feel the same way I do. Glad we managed to save you. It just wouldn't be the same without you, sir."

Severus felt his lips fighting to smile. "Thank you, Mister Potter. I must admit, I'm...glad to be able to see things through."

The younger man grinned. "Please, sir, call me Harry. Voldemort's gone now. I'd like it if I could just be me."

Severus nodded. "Very well then...Harry."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Potter, Albus Severus!" Severus watched from his seat as a boy with messy hair and vibrant green eyes walked up to the stool and had the sorting hat lowered over his head.

The headmistress leaned over to her deputy. "Well, Severus? You don't think you'll have any trouble telling him apart from his father, do you?"

The deputy headmaster feigned shock. "Why Minerva! When have I ever been that biased?!" He smiled as beside him, Charity nearly choked on her pumpkin juice as she started laughing.

In front of them, the hat suddenly shouted, "Slytherin!" over the applause from the table, Severus was certain he heard the hat say, "Finally! It's about time I got to put one of you there."

Severus smiled. Oh, no - he'd have no trouble with this one.

Charity finally got control of herself. "Severus, you are the personification of an unbiased man." She tried to sound completely serious, something she was not entirely successful at. "Your high-heel makes sure of that."

Severus sighed good-naturedly and shook his head. Charity and Harry both liked to tease him over the fact that he had kept the portkey they had used all those years ago for that fateful visit. Still, he supposed he couldn't blame them. After all, how many potions masters had a pink high-heeled shoe in a case in their office? As to why he kept it, Severus had a good reason for that.

Minerva leaned over. "I almost forgot. Harry and Ginevra invited the three of us to drop by for tea next Sunday." Both Severus and Charity nodded.

Then, Severus smiled. The shoe, for all its apparent nonsensicalness, reminded him of just what a difference one night could make. That was something Harry would often attest to, and no one believed it more than he or Severus.

Harry had said to him once, "Well, sir, I lost my parents on my first Halloween. And you let me meet them on my twelfth." He had grinned. "That was the night I changed my opinion about you. And if it hadn't happened, you might not be around today." He laughed. "One night can make all the difference, can't it?"

Severus leaned back as Minerva finished her speech and the feast officially began. Some statements were particularly apt at times, he reflected. As for that one of Harry's...if the shoe fit - well, he certainly wouldn't wear it, but he would display it.

Very quietly he said, "Indeed ,Harry, one night can make all the difference."