The new term began, and winter soon melted into spring.

It was a very busy time for Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Not only were they dealing with their classes and looming final exams, but they also had to help Hagrid with a ‘little’ problem.

It seemed the gentle half-giant had been given a dragon’s egg by someone; which the gamekeeper had decided to hatch and raise.

Unfortunately, it was illegal to own a dragon and so something had to be done about ‘Norbert’.

Ron had wrote his brother, Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania. He had suggested that they send the dragonling to him via a few school chums that were due to visit him.

The only problem was, they needed to get the little fire-breather to the top of the astronomy tower after curfew.

"Really wish that greasy git hadn’t stolen your cloak," groused Ron, as they sat in the library devising a plan for ‘Norbert’.

Harry sighed. "He didn’t ‘steal’ it," he told him. "He confiscated it."

"Same difference," Ron snorted. "I still say you should go to the Headmaster—he’s the one that gave it to you—so I’m sure he wouldn’t let Snape get away with it."

His father had not only told Dumbledore about his little ‘stroll through the bloody castle!’ but had also given him quite a tongue-lashing for giving his son ‘a great bloody temptation’ and ‘near downright invitation to break rules’ without consulting him first.

"We’ll just have to be extra careful, is all," Hermione had piped up, as she explained the details of the plan she had concocted.

Unfortunately, when they’d gone to tell Hagrid the good news ‘Norbert’ decided to bite Ron on the hand—causing it to swell enormously.

"Ain’t ‘is fault," Hagrid said, awkwardly. "He’s a ‘teethin’ is all. Baby’s do that, you know."

"Yeah, we know," Harry snorted, as he and Hermione escorted the red head to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey said he’d be all right, but he’d have to stay overnight just to be sure.

"What are we goin’ to do now, ‘Arry?" Ron had asked, fretfully.

"We keep to the plan," Harry had told him. "Me and Hermione will simply have to do it ourselves, that’s all."

And they had, too. They had managed to sneak Norbert through the castle and up to the astronomy tower, where they’d handed the baby dragon over to Charlie Weasley’s friends to be delivered to him in Romania.

Feeling very proud of themselves, he and Hermione had made they’re way down the stairs of the Tower—intent on going and telling Ron the good news—but had stopped in their tracks at the sight of Professor McGonagall waiting at the bottom for them…a very stern look on her face.

In one hand, she held Draco’s ear firmly. In the other, poor Neville’s.

It seemed Draco had overheard them discussing Hagrid’s ‘problem’ and he’d wanted to get a peek at the little dragon.

Unfortunately, he’d gotten caught by the deputy Headmistress just as he was trying to leave the castle.

He had, of course, tried to save his own skin by ratting them out. Some things might have changed between him and the blonde Slytherin, but that still didn’t mean he let go of all his ‘prat’ tendencies.

As for poor Neville, he’d apparently been in the hospital wing the day they’d brought Ron in. He’d overheard them, and decided he wanted to help…so, he’d followed them (after having accidentally fallen asleep waiting for them to come downstairs) and gotten caught just as he was leaving the Tower.

McGonagall was far beyond furious—especially since three of them were her ‘little cubs’—and she’d taken fifty points a piece from them and gave them all detention.

Harry and Draco had, of course, received quite a tongue-lashing from Snape, as well, but hadn’t received further punishment.

The boys had been very relieved by this, but also very confused. It wasn’t until the night of their detention they knew why.

Their detention was with Filch—and apparently the Potions Master had felt that was more than sufficient to ‘take care of things’—who had set them to scrubbing the various unused classrooms with a toothbruth, without magic, and on their hands and knees.

By the time they were done, all four of them had never wished they’d never seen or hear about ‘Norbert’ the dragon.

After that, Harry and his friends continued they’re search for the mysterious Flamel.

Now, it was only a week away from summer holidays, and they were still no closer.

Plus, they had had final exams all week—which had taken precedence, naturally, at least with Hermione.

"Our potions final is tomorrow," she told them, as they all sat in the library studying. "It’s our last one and you two are doing nothing but pigging out on junk food!"

"So?" Ron had asked, as he and Harry were polishing off the last of the chocolate frogs they’d gotten for Christmas.

"We are studying, Hermione," Harry told her, smiling. "Why can’t we eat while we do it?"

Hermione merely huffed, and returned to her potions’ textbook.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who opened his very last frog and popped it in his mouth.

"Who’d you get?" Ron asked, curiously. "I got Helga Hufflepuff again."

Harry pulled out the card, smiling when he saw his great-grandfather smiling back at him. "Dumbledore," he said, happily.

"I’ve got loads of him," Ron sighed, frowning. "What’s it say on the back? I can never remember…"

Harry flipped the card over and glanced at the writing there. His eyes widened.

"Hey!" he exclaimed in an excited whisper. "Listen to this. ‘Dumbledore is also good friend with the noted alchemist Nicholas Flemal!’ I knew I’d see that name somewhere before!"

Hermione gasped. "Of course, that’s it!" she said, and sprang up quickly.

Harry and Ron watched her dash into the book shelves, only to return a moment later with a very large tome in her hands.

"I checked this out months ago for a bit of light reading," she explained to them, sitting the large book on the table.

"That’s light!" Ron exclaimed, disgusted.

"Shut up, Ron," Harry told him, shaking his head. "What’s it say, Hermione?"

Flipping through pages, she smiled. "Nicholas Flamel," she read, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer’s Stone! A very rare magical artifact that can turn any metal into gold and when melted and brewed into a potion creates the Elixir of Life—which grants the drinker immortality…"

"So, that’s it," Harry said, smiling. "That’s what Fluffy is guarding beneath that trap door."

"And that’s what Snape’s after," Ron growled, scowling.

Harry sighed. You’ve put it off long enough, he told himself. Time to tell them…

"Ron, it’s not Snap who is after it," he told him, firmly.

"Ah, c’mon, ‘Arry," Ron said, snorting. "Why do you keep defendin’ that miserable black bat?"

Harry scowled, glancing around to make certain no one else was around them. Leaning in, he said, "Because that ‘miserable black bat’ is my father, Ron! That’s why."

Ron and Hermione merely stared at him, and he sighed.

He went on to explain about the Relative potion, Snape and Lily’s past together, his mother’s condition for ten years and her recovery over the last several months, Grandpa Toby, Grandpa Alby, and all the rest of it…

"I can’t believe it," Hermione whispered, wide-eyed. "I mean, I do believe you…"

"I’m related to Malfoy!" Ron hissed, suddenly. "Snape is my mum’s cousin!"

Harry nodded. "But so am I," he reminded him, smiling. "Isn’t it great, Ron. We’re cousins!"

The red head nodded. "Yeah, mate, it’s great," he said, shaking his head. "I knew Professor Dumbledore was Mum’s great-uncle…but nobody knows he had another daughter ‘sides Ariana."

"Oh, Ron, Professor Dumbledore might be a powerful wizard," Hermione told him, "but he’s still only as human as the rest of us. Are you saying you haven’t made your share of mistakes in the past?"

"Yeah, but…" Ron trialed off, unable to think of a suitable argument and then glanced at Harry. "He treats you okay, right? Snape, I mean?"

"Of course, he does," Harry told him. "Course, I wish he wasn’t so strict sometimes…but at least I know he only wallops me because he cares—unlike the Dursleys."

"He wallops you!" Ron exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Harry snorted. "Doesn’t your dad wallop you whenever you do something really, really stupid?" he asked him, pointedly.

Ron blushed all the way from the top of his head down to his toes. "Uh…yeah," he admitted, embarrassed. "I just…never thought of Snape as doing that, I guess. He seems more the type to…well…"

"Cut you up into potions ingredients?" Harry asked, smiling. "Yeah, I know. That night after he rescued me and Draco…it was the first time I’d ever been, well, you know and even though it wasn’t until the next day that he found out he was my dad, he still wasn’t mean about it. Thorough—bloody hell is the man thorough when doling out smacks—but not mean."

"And your mum is really alive?" Ron asked, curiously. Harry nodded. "Mum will be glad to hear about that. She and your mum were good friends."

"I know," Harry told him. "Did you know my mum was your godmother?"

Ron’s eyes widened. "NO!" he said, smiling. "Really?"

"Yep," Harry told him, smirking. "Apparently, she’s also Neville’s godmother, too. You mum is my godmother, by the way."

"Wicked!" Ron said, patting him on the back. "Cousins and godbrothers!"

Harry smiled, glad his friends were taking this so well. He’d been so worried about them hating him…or something.

"When will your mother get to come home, Harry?" Hermione asked him, curiously.

Harry smiled. "Today!" he told them, happily. "Dad’s gone to get her right now, in fact."

"How wonderful," Hermione said. "Will we get to meet her, do you think? I read she was quite the powerful witch and…well, I kinda look up to her…" She blushed.

"I’ll introduce you, personally," Harry told her, happily. "I’ve told her all about you guys."

"Hey, wait a minute," Ron frowned, something dawning on him. "If it’s not Snape who’s after the stone and trying to kill you, ‘Arry. Who is?"

Harry bit his lip. "I think it might be Professor Quirrel," he told them, hesitantly.

"Quirrel!" Ron exclaimed, snorting. "You’ve got to be joking!"

Harry shook his head. "No, listen…" he then told them about that last night of the holidays, and what he’d seen and heard in the corridor between his father and Quirrel.

"And after they were gone, Quirrel stopped quivering and he…well, he didn’t look nice at all," Harry told them, shuddering. "And every time I get near him, my scar burns."

"Bloody ‘ell," Ron swore, wide-eyed. This earned him a glare from Hermione, who turned then turned back to Harry.

"What do you think it means?" she asked him, curiously.

Harry shook his head. "I don’t know," he told them, frowning, "but whatever it is. It’s not good."

He shut his book and stood up.

"C’mon," he told them, "I need to stretch my legs and get some fresh air for a little while."

They both nodded and followed him out of the library.

As they made their way down toward Hagrid’s hut, where the half-giant was sitting outside playing a flute with his dog, Fang, sitting beside him, Harry suddenly stopped.

"Oww!" Ron hissed, bumping into him. "What’s the big idea, mate?"

"Of course!" Harry said, his green eyes widening. "Of course!" With that, he went running down toward Hagrid.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, shrugged, but then quickly dashed after him.

"Hagrid!" Harry said, stopping to catch his breath. "Need…to…talk…to…you…"

"’Course, you can," Hagrid told him, smiling. "What’s on yer mind, lad?"

"Who gave you Norbert’s egg?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Do you remember?"

"He was a tall fella," Hagrid told him, "but kinda mysterious like, too. He wore a dark hooded cloak—and kept the hood up so’s I couldn’t see his face."

"Did he ask you anything?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Just about what sorta creatures I care for," the half-giant told him, shrugging. "Course, I told him the best way to deal with any kind’a creature, magical or not, is to know how to tame it. Take Fluffy, for instance, all’s you got to do is play him a bit’a music and he fall right to sleep—I, uh, shouldn’t told you that, I reckon…" Hagrid frowned.

"Was the man really interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Well, a’course he was, ‘Arry," Hagrid told him, snorting. "How many three headed dogs to do you know?"

"Good point," Harry told him, patting him on the leg. "Thank, Hagrid! Sorry, we can’t stay!"

With that, he turned and started running back for the castle.

"’Arry!" Ron yelled, as he and Hermione followed him. "What the ruddy ‘ell are you doin’?"

Harry stopped, realizing he hadn’t explained anything. "We know that there are other traps guarding the stone, right?" he asked them, and they nodded. "Well, we also know several of the professors set those traps—and I’m willing to bet Quirrel was one of them."

"I don’t get it," Ron said, frowning.

"I do," Hermione spoke up, her eyes wide. "Quirrel ‘volunteered’ to help ‘protect’ the stone so he could learn how to get past all the other traps, right?"

Harry nodded. "That’s what I’m thinking, too," he told her, smiling. "But the only thing he didn’t know how to get past was…"

"Fluffy!" Ron exclaimed, realizing.

Harry nodded. "Exactly," he told him. "I bet you a hundred Galleons that Quirrel was the one to give Hagrid ‘Norbert’. And in exchange he tricked Hagrid into telling him how to get past Fluffy!"

"What are we going to do, Harry?" Hermione asked him, swallowing. "What’s to stop Quirrel from getting the stone?"

"Dumbledore," Harry told her. "C’mon!" With that, he turned and raced back inside the castle.

They headed straight for McGonagall’s office and dashed inside. "Professor!" he cried, running up to her desk, where she was sitting working on grading her Transfiguration exams. "We need to see Professor Dumbledore immediately!"

McGonagall blinked at him. "I am afraid that’s not possible," she told him. "He left this morning for London—the Minister called a special meeting."

"He’s gone!" Harry exclaimed, horrified. "NO! He can’t be, we need him here! Now!"

"Potter, whatever is the matter?" the deputy Headmistress asked, frowning. "Is it something I can help you with?"

"Professor, we believe somebody is going to steal the sorcerer’s stone!" Harry blurted out.

Again, McGonagall blinked at him. But then, she stood up and leveled them with a fiercely stern look.

"I do not know how you know of that, Mr. Potter," she told him, firmly, "but I can assure you it is quite safe. You need not worry about it."

"But, Professor," Harry protested. "I’m telling you—"

"No, Potter," McGonagall growled. "I am telling you. Get back to the Tower immediately. You three are not to leave there tonight for any reason. We’ll have no more of this foolishness. The Stone is perfectly safe. Now, go!" She pointed one long finger at the door.

Harry scowled at her, but then nodded and headed out of the office. "C’mon," he told his friends.

"Where are we going now?" Hermione asked him. "McGonagall said—"

"Screw what McGonagall said," Harry growled, fiercely. "There’s somebody Quirrel is even more afraid of than Dumbledore!"

Just as they rounded the corner, he caught sight of the person he was looking for. "Grandpa Toby!" he called out, gaining Tobias attention.

Tobias turned around, smiling at the sight of him. "Hullo, Harry," he greeted him, happily. "Doin’ well on your exams, I hope?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry told him, "but I wanted to ask. Is Dad back with Mum yet?"

Tobias shook his head. "No, Harry, not yet," he told him. "They were planning to go straight to Hogsmeade after leaving the hospital. Your mum needs new clothes, remember? And I think they were planning to spend the night at the Three Broomsticks, as well. Is something wrong?"

"Uh, not really," Harry said, thinking quickly. "I just wanted to introduce Ron and Hermione to Mum."

"All right, then," Tobias said, though he looked unconvinced about there not being something wrong. "I’ll see you three tonight at dinner." With that, he turned and strolled on down the corridor.

"Why didn’t you tell him?" Ron asked him, curiously.

"He’s a Muggle, Ron," Harry snorted. "What can he do?"

"Good point," he said, sighing. "So now what?"

"I don’t know," Harry said, as they made their back to Gryffindor Tower. "But I do know this. With Dumbledore and Snape gone, Quirrel will definitely try for the Stone."

"McGonagall didn’t believe us, Harry," Hermione reminded him. "Should we try getting a message to Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry shook his head. "There wouldn’t be enough time," he told her, sighing. "Now that he knows the two people capable of stopping him are gone and now that he knows how to get past Fluffy, Quirrel will act immediately. For all we know, he could be down that trapdoor right this second!"

"We can’t just do nothing, ‘Arry," Ron told him.

"I know," Harry said, "and that means it falls to us to protect the Stone. C’mon." They all turned back toward the entrance to the Tower, only to find their way blocked by one Neville Longbottom.

"Y-You’re goin’ out again," he said, glaring. "Y-You’re goin’ to get Gryffindor into trouble again!"

"Neville, we really don’t have a choice," Harry told him. "I’m sorry we got you into trouble before, but—"

Neville put his fists up. "I-I’ll fight you if I have to," he threatened, hesitantly.

"Neville, I’m really sorry about this…" Hermione took out her wand and pointed it at the timid boy.

"Wait," Harry said, grabbing her arm and then glanced back at their friend. "Neville, come with us."

Neville blinked at him. "W-What?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, frowning. "What?"

"We know that there is more than one trap down there," Harry reminded him. "We need all the help we can get. Neville, you just wanted to help us last time…that’s why you followed us, wasn’t it?"

Neville nodded. "Then, help now," Harry told him. "This is ten times more important than Norbert. You’ll really be a hero this time, Neville."

"I will?" Neville asked, curiously.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, you will," he said, smiling. "So, you in?"

Neville lowered his arms. "I’m in," he told him.

"Good," Harry said, smiling. "Then, let’s go…" With that, the four of them made their way out of the Tower.

Reaching the stairway on the Third Floor, they found somebody else waiting for them there.

"What are you doing here?" Ron growled, glaring at Draco Malfoy.

"Can it, Weasley," Draco snorted. "I’m here to help. I know your going after the Sorcerer’s Stone."

"How do you—?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. "You’ve been eavesdropping again somehow, haven’t you?"

"Remember the amulets Uncle Sev gave us for Christmas?" Draco asked him. He nodded. "He said if we needed him, we could just touch it and he’d hear us. Well, I got to thinking that it might work both ways. Not only would he be able to hear us, but we’d be able to hear each other…so I tested it. It worked. I could hear what you were saying."

"That’s how you knew about Norbert," Harry realized, scowling. "You miserable prat! I oughta kick your arse!"

"As if," Draco snorted. "I want to help, Potter. You’ll need Slytherin cunning to get past those traps."

"He’s right," Harry told the others. "Bravery, Loyalty, and Intelligence aren’t enough—we’ll need his help."

"Ah, ‘Arry…" Ron complained, sourly.

"He’s our cousin, Ron," Harry reminded him. "He isn’t so bad…when he’s not being an arrogant pain in the bum!"

"Watch it, Potter," Draco said, scowling. "Now, are we going or not?"

Harry nodded. "Let’s go," he told him, and then the five of them headed up the stairs to the Third Floor corridor.

Unlocking the door, they found Fluffy sound alseep—a harp was softly playing by the large three-headed dog’s right head.

"You were right, ‘Arry," Ron whispered to him. "Quirrel is going after the Stone right away."

Harry nodded. "Let’s hurry and get down the trapdoor," he told them. "Before Fluffy decides naptime is over."

The others all nodded and they made their way over to the opened door in the floor.

Harry glanced at them. "Who wants to go first?" he asked, hesitantly.

Draco snorted. "This is your party, Potter," he told him, smirking. "Why don’t you do the honors?"

Harry glared at his cousin. "Prat," he muttered, sourly. "Fine, but you all better be right behind me."

With that, he shut his eyes and jumped into the dark hole. He landed in something soft and squishy.

Huh? What was this? Feeling around, it kinda felt..waxy. The only time he’d ever felt anything like this was in Herbology…

Suddenly there four more splats occurred. "Hey?" Ron asked, somewhere to his right. "What the bloody ‘ell is this?"

"I don’t know," Draco said, "but whatever it is—IT’S BLOODY WELL GOT A HOLD OF ME!"

Harry frowned, wondering what on earth the blonde haired Slytherin meant until he felt something wrap around him…and squeeze.

"Ahhh!" he hollered. "It’s go me, too!" Ron, Hermione, and Neville also began screaming as whatever this was tightened its grip.

"Wait!" Neville cried, suddenly. "I know what this is! It’s Devil’s Snare! It’s a magical plant!"

"Thanks so much for the Herbology lesson, Longbottom!" Draco snarled, "but how the bloody hell do we get out of it!"

"You have to relax," Neville told them, his voice sounding much calmer now. "The harder you fight, the tighter it will grip you.

He stopped moving and suddenly he disappeared, sucked beneath the plant.

"Neville!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed at the same time.

They were side by side and they glanced at each other, now that their eyes had adjusted to the darkness around them.

As one, they stopped struggling and allowed themselves to be pulled under.

They landed beside Neville, underneath the Devil’s Snare. Above them, they could both Ron and Draco screaming—and neither one sounded remotely calm.

"They’re not going to quit struggling, are they?" Neville asked, biting his lip.

"No," Harry and Hermione answered him at the same time. "What do you remember about this plant?"

"Well, it hates fire," Neville told them, "but I don’t think that would be such a good idea…unless…wait! It also hates sunlight!"

Pulling out his wand, he aimed it upward and shouted, "Lumos Solarus!" A blast of golden light flare from his wand, striking the magical plant and causing it to wither and die.

Ron and Draco suddenly dropped down beside them. Harry helped Draco to his feet while Neville helped Ron.

"Good thing we didn’t panic," Ron said, trying hard not to blush in embarrassment.

"You said it," Draco said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Harry glared at both of them. "Good thing Neville is good in Herbology," he told them, snorting. "Now, come on."

They made their way to the next room, where they found their old friend the mountain troll—unconscious and laying face up on the floor.

"Must be Quirrel’s trap," Harry snorted. "Knew he was the one who let it in the castle…"

They moved past the unconscious troll and into the next chamber. This room had many, many flying birds in it.

"Birds?" Harry frowned. "I don’t get it…what kind of trap is this?"

"What’s with the brooms, too?" Ron asked, nodding toward where three broomstick lay.

Hermione grossed over to the door, finding it locked. After trying to unlock it with magic, she squinted up at the birds.

Her eyes widened in recognition. "Those aren’t birds!" she exclaimed, suddenly. "They’re winged keys! I bet we have to find the key that matches the keyhole on the door!"

"How are we gonna do that?" Neville asked, curiously. "T-They’re moving so fast!"

"Leave that to me," Hermione told him, taking out her wand. "Immobilus!"

Instantly, all the flying keys froze in mid-air—suspended by the freezing charm the mousy haired witch had cast.

"Nice one, Hermione," Harry told her, smiling. "Now, which can is it?"

Hermione examined the door, closely.

"We’re looking for a skeleton-type," she told them, and the peered up at the still-floating keys. "There! That one way up there! That’s the one, I’m sure of it!"

"Well," Draco said, smirking at Ron. "I guess we know what the brooms are for, now don’t we?"

Ron gave him a very rude finger gesture, which he responded in kind.

Harry snorted. "You two fight like brothers, instead of cousins," he told them, shaking his head. "I’ll go get it."

Hoping onto a broom, he kicked off the ground and retrieved the key—which had a broken wing…obviously, Quirrel had already had a hold of it.

Delivering it to Hermione, the young witch then unlocked the door and they were able to advance into the fourth chamber.

This room was dark, at first, but then torches appeared and they found themselves standing on a very large chess board with very large chess pieces surrounding them.

"Wicked," Ron said, smiling. "This must be McGonagall’s trap—she’d have to be the one to Transfigure these pieces. I bet you anything we have to play our way across the room."

"Uh, Ron," Harry said, hesitantly. "Do you suppose this is exactly like wizard’s chess?"

A white pawn moved forward then. Ron smirked, and then ordered a black pawn to move to the square diagonal from it.

The white pawn jumped up and impaled the black pawn with a pair of swords and tossing it off the board.

The five kids all gulped.

"Yep, ‘Arry," Ron said, swallowing. "I think this is exactly like wizard’s chess. Okay…hmm…Hermione and Neville, you two take over the two castle positions. Harry, you and Malfoy take the bishops spots. I’ll take the Queen side Knight."

They all nodded and moved into position. Another white piece moved, and then Ron began to issue orders to the pieces and to them.

They played for what seemed forever, but was probably only fifteen minutes, watching piece after piece get smashed and wiped away.

Finally, there were only a few moves left. "Okay," Ron said, swallowing. "I know what I have to do."

"What’s that?" Hermione asked him. She and Neville were still upon the castle squares, as they weren’t really needed.

"I have to move to put the king in check," Ron told her.

"NO!" Harry cried, realizing. "Ron, you can’t! The Queen will take you!"

"I know," Ron told him, "but once that happens, you can move to put the king in Check Mate. It’s the only way, ‘Arry!"

"He’s right," Draco told him, firmly. "Don’t let sentimentality cloud your judgment."

"He’s not your friend!" Harry growled at him, angrily.

"But he is yours," Draco reminded him. "He’s doing this for you, Potter. Don’t you see that? You’re the one that has to face Quirrel. Not Weasley, not Granger, not Longbottom, and certainly not me. It’s you."

"He’s right, ‘Arry," Ron said. "I’ll be all right—I think." With that, he gave the order. The knight he was mounted on moved to put the white king in ‘Check’.

The white Queen moved ominously across the board, raising her battle lance and bringing it down with an almight force—shattering Ron’s knight and causing him to crash to the floor, unconscious.

"Ron!" Hermione hollarered, taking a step forward.

"No!" Harry yelled at her. "Don’t—we’re still playing, remember?" With that, he moved along the black squares, diagonally, to where the white king was cornered.

"Check and Mate," he declared to it, causing it to drop the sword it was holding in acceptance of their victory.

As one, they all rushed over to where Ron lay. "I think he’s just winded," Hermione said, quietly.

"You and Neville stay here with him," Harry told her, smiling. "Draco and I will go on."

"Be careful, Harry," Hermione said, blinking back tears. "Please."

"I will be," Harry promised her.

"You’re a great wizard, Harry," she told him, gently. "Don’t forget that."

"I’m not as good as you," he told her, smirking.

She shrugged. "Books and cleverness," she said, shaking her head. "There are more important things—like friendship…and love."

With that, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "For luck," she told him, blushing.

Draco snorted. "C’mon, Romeo," he said, tugging on his arm. "Let’s go."

Harry nodded, and together the two of them headed through the next doorway.

The moment they were threw purple flames erupted in it, blocking their way back.

Unfortunately, black flames blocked their way forward, as well. On a table were several sized vials of various potions.

"This must be Dad’s trap," Harry said, knowingly.

"It is," Draco said, picking up a small card. "Look at this."

Harry did so, frowning at the riddle written upon it. "What do you think it means?" he asked his cousin, curiously.

"That my uncle is brilliant," Draco told him, chuckling. "This isn’t magic—it’s logic! Only a true Slytherin could set a trap like this."

"Well, you’re the only other true Slytherin here," Harry told him, "so what does the riddle mean."

"It’s telling us which potion to take to get through each set of doorways," he told him. "One gets us through the purple flames and the other the black ones. Now, shut up and let me think…"

Harry wanted to retort something scathing back at him, but sighed. He’s helping, he reminded himself, you can kick his arse after its all over…

"I’ve got it," Draco said, after a few moments. "This one will get us back to the others…and this one will get you through the black flames."

"Why only me?" Harry asked, picking up the vial he had pointed to. "Oh…" There was only enough potion in there for one person.

"I told you," Draco told him, seriously. "You’re the one that has to go on. Just be sure and give Quirrel a good kick in the bollocks for me, okay?"

Harry laughed at that. "Thanks, Draco," he told him, clasping him on the shoulder. "You might be a slimy Snake, but you’re still all right."

"Gee, Harry, thanks a lot," Draco snorted. "You really need to work on your compliments."

Harry laughed. "Just go on, you prat," he told him, giving him a shove toward the purple flames. "Get the others, have Neville and Hermione take Ron to the hospital wing and you head to the owlry—get a message to either Dad or Grandpa Alby. Okay?"

Draco nodded. "You be careful," he warned him. "Don’t forget what happened that night in the Forbidden Forest…"

Harry nodded. "I won’t," he told him, assuredly. "Now, go."

Draco nodded, gulped down the potion—of course, it tasted bloody awful—and then rushed through the purple flames.

Harry swallowed, glancing toward the black flames. "I hope you’re about this, cousin," he said to himself, but then gulped down the single drop of potion. It was like fire going down his throat.

Taking a deep breath, he rushed forward—through the flames—and into a large open chamber.

In the center of this chamber was the final trap—the Mirror of Erised—and standing in front of it was none other than Professor Quirrel.

"I knew it was you," Harry growled, frowning fiercely.

Quirrel turned around, an evil smirk on his face.

"So did Snape, apparently," he told him, grinning. "I guess p-poor s-s-stuttering Professor Quirrel didn’t fool everyone, eh?"

"Everybody but Snape," Harry said, smirking. "Couldn’t fool him, could you?"

"Like it matters," Quirrel sneered. "He’s gone—on some mission for that doddering old fool they consider to be the greatest wizard of our age…Ha!"

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of our age!" Harry defended his great-grandfather vehemently.

"And yet, where is he now?" Quirrel sneered, smirking wickedly. "And who does he send in his place? A child!" He let out a cruel, mocking laugh.

"You’re never gonna get the stone," Harry declared. "I won’t let you!"

Quirrel glared. "You won’t—" he growled, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. "Come here, you brat!"

With a wild gesture, Harry found himself flung off his feet, flying in mid-air, toward the outstretched hand of the deranged professor.

Quirrel grabbed him by the collar, dangling his feet above the floor, and brought him with in inches of his face.

"Ahhh!" Harry cried out, as his scar blazed with fire—the pain was even more intense then it had been that night in the Forbidden Forest.

"There is no Severus here to save you this time, Potter," the dark wizard growled, menacingly. "This time—you will die!"

"Let…me…go!" Harry yelled, reaching out and pushing the man’s face away from him.

Suddenly, Quirrel’s face began to smoke and burn. He cried out, dropping Harry at his feet.

Where Harry’s hands had touched him, were two distinctive red marks. Harry glanced at his hands in bewilderment.

"I’ll kill you, you damn brat!" the man roared.

"But, Master—" Quirrel protested, weakly.

"He can get the stone," the voice hissed again. "Use him, you fool! NOW!"

Quirrel glared down at him. "Come here, boy," h growled, grabbing him by the collar again.

Lifting him off his feet, he was placed in front of the mirror. "What do you see, Potter?" Quirrel growled at him. "Tell me!"

Harry saw himself in the mirror, but this time there was no one else. He watched as his reflection winked at him, reached into his pocket to reveal a small red-colored rock, and then put it back in his pocket.

Harry felt something fall into his pocket, and put his hand in there—matching his reflection in the mirror perfectly.

He felt something hard and rough in his pocket, but did not let anything show on his face.

"Well!?" Quirrel roared at him.

"Uh, I, uh, I see myself winning the house cup," he told him, smiling. "And the Quidditch cup! And I’m—"

"Useless!" Quirrel roared. "Absolutely useless!" He grabbed him by the collar again and tossed him back toward the exit of the chamber.

Harry landed hard, but quickly collected himself and stood up. Quirrel turned back to the mirror, so now if he could just manage to back out of the room…

Unfortunately, his scar flared painfully again—causing his knees to buckle and he fell forward onto them.

Quirrel spun around. "POTTER!" he roared, glinding through the air to land right in front of him. "GIVE ME THAT STONE, YOU MISERABLE BRAT!"

He picked Harry up again, shaking him. "Never!" Harry yelled, reaching out and grabbing his face again. Again, it began to smoke and burn and the man was forced to drop him.

Instead of making a run for it, however, Harry lunged forward and grabbed a hold of the man’s wrists!

Quirrel screamed, his flesh beginning to burn all over, but Harry refused to let go. "Master!" Quirrel screamed. "Help me!"

But it was too late, his entire body was nothing but ash now and he crumpled to the floor, his robes and turban all that remained.

Harry stumbled back, wide-eyed at what he’d done. Suddenly, though, his scar flared painfully again and he once more found himself down on his knees.

From the remains of Quirrel’s robes rose a dark shadowy specter—with a face and eyes like a snake.

"Voldermort," Harry realized, suddenly.

"Harry Potter," the same hissing voice he’d heard before came from the specter. "Look at what you have done to me—a disembodied spirit forced to live off another—I am nothing more than a parasite now!"

"Serves you right, you monster!" Harry yelled, angrily.

The specter roared, and suddenly was moving toward him…

A pair of identical beams of silver light shot past Harry, hitting the Dark Entity squarely and caused it to vanish and evaporate.

Harry stared at where he’d been a moment, but then turned to see who cast those two charms. He smiled.

"MUM! DAD!"

HPHPHPHP

Severus lay with one arm tucked behind his head while the other was wrapped around Lily’s bare shoulder; her head resting upon his bare chest.

This was not at all what he had intended to happen…at least this afternoon, anyway.

Tonight, perhaps…

But Lily had been hungry as they arrived from St. Mungos and so they had stopped in at the Three Broomsticks for a quick bite to eat before going shopping.

Unfortunately, or not, they had not made it to Gladrags yet.

While they were there, after they had finished eating, Lily had suggested they go ahead and reserve their room for tonight—that way they would not have to worry about it later.

He had agreed and went to speak to Rosmerta—the proprietress and a former classmate of theirs—who showed them to her best room.

She had then left them alone to ‘inspect’ for themselves. She had a knowing smile on her lips as she left, he remembered…

Glancing down at the red head resting upon his bare chest, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Lily glanced at him, curiously. "What’s so funny?"

"Oh nothing, love," he told her, stroking her hair gently. "Nothing at all…"

She smiled at him. "Oh, Sev," she said, laying her head back down. "It’s nice to see you haven’t lost your…touch."

He snorted at that, though a faint smug smile tugged at his lips.

"I wouldn’t be too sure about that," he told her. "I haven’t been with a woman like this for…a very long time. Since that night, actually…"

She looked at him, startled. "Since the night of the battle?" she asked, wide-eyed. "No one? At all?"

He shook his head. "You are and will always be the only woman for me," he told her. "No other woman has caught my eye…not in ten years time."

"Oh, Sev," Lily said, sadly. "You must have been so lonely…"

"I grew…accustomed…to it," he told her, gently. "I had my memories of you to keep me warm on long winter nights. They were enough."

"Were they?" she asked him, shrewdly.

"Well," he told her, blushing fiercely, "that and the fact I had my right hand…"

Lily chuckled at that.

"Oh, Sev!" she said, laughing. "You never cease to amaze me. You can face the darkest of Dark Wizards without even blinking, but you blush at the mere mention of anything to do with…sex."

"Well, really, Lily," Severus told her, laughing. "We can’t all be as…brazen…as some."

Lily smirked. "Brazen, am I?" she asked him, smirking wickedly. "Hmm…how’s this, then?"

She kissed him then—a searing, passionate kiss that once again ‘awoke’ the fire they had begun a mere hour before.

Rolling on top of her, he quickly went about the task of showing her he had indeed not lost his…touch…as she put it.

As they made love, memories filled his mind—of times past—and he smiled with unbridled desire and ecstasy.

Once they were both sated, again more laying quietly in each others arms, Severus couldn’t help but be curious about something.

"Um…Lily?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Yes, love?" she asked, glancing at him.

Severus licked his lips, nervously. "How…how am I?" he asked, hesitantly. "Compared to…Potter?" He was blushing furiously now.

Lily blinked at him. "What do you mean?" she asked him, frowning.

"Lily," Severus said, blushing even more. "You aren’t going to make me come out and say it…are you?"

Lily continued to stare at him, but then burst out laughing.

"Oh, Severus!" she said, her laughter echoing around the room—which, thankfully, had silencing charms laid into the walls for privacy.

"What is so damn funny?" he growled at her, his ego a bit bruised now.

"You are, you goose!" she told him, smiling. "It questions like that…that remind me you’re a man!"

"Well, I would certainly hope so," he told her, injured. He sniffed, slightly insulted.

"Oh, love, no," she told him, quickly, "that isn’t what I meant at all. It’s just, even as a child, you were so serious and reserved. All the other boys in our year, even those shy ones like Frank Longbottom, could be boisterous and loud and overly macho at time. There were only a handful of times, that you displayed those traits...like letting your temper get the best of you and the like…"

"Yes," Severus said, quietly. "I remember."

"And just now, when you asked me to compare your ‘performance’ to that of James," she told him, smirking. "I could very well see someone like James or Sirius or Lucius Malfoy as being concerned with something like that…but not you. It was just so…so typically a male kind of question, that’s all."

"So basically, I don’t typically display the stereotypical male attributes of being loud and 'macho'. Is that it?" he asked her, curiously.

She nodded. "Yes, exactly, but its times like right now," she told him, "that remind me you are indeed very much a…a..."

"A man," he told her, grinning. "You were very…happy…about that fact a few minutes ago, love."

Lily smiled at that. "Oh, believe me, I was," she told him, smirking seductively. "And still am…"

"But you still haven’t answered my question," he told her, gently. "How do I compare to…my cousin?"

He had very rarely allowed him to think—much less speak—of his blood connection to James Potter, but in this instance he could actually own up to it without feeling any residual negativity.

"I don’t know," Lily told him, quietly.

Severus blinked up at her. "What do you mean?" he asked, frowning. "You were legally married to him. Weren’t you?"

"Yes," she told him, smiling, "we were, but…we never…that is, we didn’t…"

She paused, trying to think of the appropriate way of putting it.

She sighed. "James knew my heart belonged only to you," she told him. "He would never have forced to me to…betray you…as it were. We may have been legally married, Sev, but it was a marriage on paper only. We never consummated it. I couldn’t and James…wouldn’t. He was too much of a gentleman for that. Everyone already believed we had, anyway, because of Harry…so, there simply was no need."

"So, never?" he asked her, wide-eyed. "Not even once. I mean, I was declared legally dead, after all…"

"I never believed it," Lily told him, "and even if it had been true…I couldn’t. You said yourself, Sev, you’ve never been with another woman…not in the last eleven years. How could I be any different?"

"I see," Severus said, still rather stunned by this news. "So…I have been the only man you’ve ever been with?"

She nodded. "And the only one I ever want to be with," she told him, smirking. "I love you, Severus Tobias Snape, and don’t you ever forget it."

"I won’t," he promised, smiling. "I love you, too." He leaned back down, one arm going behind his head again as her head once more rested on his chest.

Right at that moment, however, the medallion around his neck began to grow warm. He frowned, and sat.

Lily glanced at him, confused. "What is it, love?" she asked him, concerned.

"Something is wrong," he told her. "With Harry…"

Her emerald green eyes widened. "What do you mean?" she asked him, fearfully.

"I don’t know," he told her, truthfully. "Just that he and Draco are very distressed!"

They glanced at each other, their eyes, meeting for a moment and then both sprang up from the bed.

Getting dressed, he in his dress shirt and trousers and Lily in the green dress robe Tobias had given her for Christmas, the rushed from the room.

Racing up the castle, they entered and raced up the stairs. They were met by Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Pomona Sprout.

"Ah, Severus, there you are!" Minerva exclaimed, upon seeing him.

"Where is Potter, Minerva?" he growled at her, urgently.

"Harry?" the Head of Gryffindor blinked at him. "I sent him, Ronald Weasley, and Miss Granger up to our common room. They somehow knew about the Stone, Severus! They came racing into my office, telling this wild tale about somebody trying to steal it and—"

Her eyes widened as she finally glanced to his right, seeing who was standing beside him.

"No," she gasped, wide-eyed. "It…It can’t be!" Filius and Pomona also were looking bewildered.

"Hello, Minerva, Filius, Pomona," Lily smiled at them. "Yes, it really is me."

"There isn’t any time, love," Severus told her, and then glanced at his collegues. "Where’s Albus!?"

"He…He…He left this morning, Severus," Minerva told him, her eyes twitching back and forth between them violently. "Fudge called a special session of the—"

Severus grabbed Lily’s hand and raced brushed past them. "Damn and double damn!" he growled.

"What is it, Sev?" Lily asked, worriedly.

"Quirrel!" he growled. "With both Dumbledore and me out of the castle I have no doubt he’s trying to get the Sorcerer’s Stone!"

"What does Harry have to do with this?" Lily asked him, puzzled.

"Somehow that foolish son of ours must have found out about the Stone," he growled at her. "That boy has a hero-complex a kilometer and a half long! If me and Albus were both gone, and Minerva brushed them aside as she apparently did, that boy and his friends no doubt decided to take matters into their own hands!"

Lily gasped. "You don’t mean they’d try and stop Quirrel!" she exclaimed. "They’re only eleven years old, Severus!"

"Precisely," Severus growled. "Just wait til I get my hands on them!"

They continued racing through the halls and corridors ‘til they came to the third floor. Entering, they were met by a very angry Cerberus ‘puppy’.

"Not this time, mutt!" Severus growled angrily. "Stupify maximus!"

Three beams of blinding light shot out of his wand, striking all three heads simultaneously, rendering the beast unconscious.

"I don’t think Hagrid will be too happy with you," Lily observed, wryly.

"He can put his boot up my ass later," Severus told her, snorting. "C’mon!" With that, he dropped down the trap door and she followed. They landed on the now withered Devil’s Snare, raced through the flying key chamber, and the still unconscious troll.

Entering Minerva’s trap, a Transfigured chess room, they found four children waiting there.

Miss Granger and the still-dazed Mr. Weasley weren’t that surprising, they’d have gladly followed along with whatever plan Harry had devised, but Mr. Longbottom certainly was; as was…

"Draco!" Severus growled, upon seeing the blonde haired boy.

"Uncle Sev," Draco squeaked, wide-eyed. "Uh…this isn’t what it looks like, I swear!"

"Oh, Professor!" Hermione said, grabbing ahold of him. "You have to hurry! Harry is in trouble, we think!"

Severus snorted. "You all are in trouble, Miss Granger," he growled at her, menacingly. "You lot stay put—do not move from that spot—‘til we return with Harry. Is that clear?"

They all nodded, well except for Weasley of course, and he nodded in return. "Come, love," he told Lily. "Let’s go rescue our impudent brat of a son!"

Lily nodded and she followed him through the chamber with the flames, where he merely cast a charm that removed them from their path.

He had created them, after all.

Racing into the final chamber just as Harry had grabbed ahold of Quirrel, they watched in stunned amazement as the man dissolved into nothing but ash before their eyes.

As Harry back away from the man’s remains, and the Dark Specter that had once been the Dark Lord rose from them, he and Lily as one raised their wands.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" they both shouted at the same time, refusing to allow the dark entity to harm their child.

Their duel patronus leapt from their wands, straight at the Dark Lord’s specter, and vanished him.

"Miserable bastard," Severus growled, shaking his head.

Harry has spun around, smiling at the sight of them. "Mum! Dad!" he yelled, racing towards them. He leapt, and they both caught him and pulled him into a duel embrace.

Severus enjoyed the moment, having his love and their son so close, but then sat the boy back down.

He glared at him. "What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" he growled at him, angrily.

"Somebody had to save the ruddy Stone," Harry told him, reaching into his pocket. "And I did. See?" He pulled out the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Severus snatched the stone from the boy’s grasp. "What I see is a little boy in very big trouble," he told him, sternly.

"Sev, calm down a moment," Lily told him, gently. "Let’s make sure he’s all right before you start doling out any kind of punishment."

"I’m fine, Mum," Harry told her. "Honest."

Lily knelt down beside him. "I’ll be the judge of that, Mister, thank you very much," she told him, firmly. "Now, please, hold still."

Severus watched in amusement as Lily fused over their boy—and their boy sighed, as only a little boy could while being coddled and babied by his mother.

"Will he live?" he asked her, wryly, as she stood back up.

"Yes, it would seem so," Lily told him, smirking.

"Excellent," Severus said, handing her the Stone.

He then turned Harry around and delivered three sharp smacks to his behind.

"Ow! Dad!" Harry gasped, rubbing. "Ah, c’mon!"

"The only place I’ll ‘c’mon’ to is the infirmary, young man, and so will you," Severus growled at him. "Let’s go."

Grasping his shoulder gently yet firmly, he ushered the boy from the chamber with Lily following right beside him.

Upon reentering the chess room, they found the other children had not so much as moved.

"Oh, Harry, you’re all right," Hermione Granger rushed forward, throwing her arms around his son. "I’m so glad, I coud…I could…"

And with that, she promptly kissed him soundly on the lips.

"Miss Granger!" Severus stated, doing everything he could to keep the smile off his face. "Due control yourself, young lady!"

Lily, he noticed, was smiling openly at the sight.

Hermione released Harry, who was staring at her wide-eyed. "Hermione!" he gasped, blushing all the way to his toes.

"Bloody ‘ell," Ron groaned, blinking at that. "I must’a hit me head harder than I thought…"

"How are you feeling, Mr. Weasley?" Severus asked, kneeling down beside him.

"Me head hurts a bit," Ron told him, "and I feel kind like I want to sick up…"

"You took quite a fall from the looks of it," Severus said, putting one arm underneath the boy’s legs and one on his back and lifting him up. "Let’s get you to the Infirmary."

"But, Sir," Ron squeaked, blushing. "I can walk!" His face was as red as his hair.

"You may have a concussion, Ronald," Severus told him, sternly. "Now, due be quiet and relax!"

"How are we gonna get out of here?" Harry asked him, curiously. "The trapdoor…"

"Is not the only way out of here," Severus told them, as they reached the spot with the Devil’s Snare.

He pointed his wand at a spot in the wall and incanted, "Asperio!"

A doorway appeared and motioned for the children and Lily to step through. They did so and he followed, finding themselves in the entrance hall.

"Wicked!" Harry said, smiling.

"I’m glad you are impressed," Severus snorted. "Now, come."

Once again, they were met by people on the stairs. This time not only three other Heads of Houses but also Albus and Tobias, as well.

"It seems I have returned too late," the Headmaster said, sighing.

"Indeed," Severus snorted. "We were on our way to the Infirmary to get these hooligans checked out. I’m sure they will have a most…detailing…tale to tell."

He gave the children a pointed look, causing them all to look guilty. He nodded and then continued on his way with everyone else following.

Arriving in the infirmary, he sat Ron down and allowed Madame Pomfrey to exam him and the other children.

"Other than a rather large bump on the head," the mediwitch told them, "and multiple scraps and bruises they are all fine—all things considered."

"Yes, indeed," Severus said, eyeing the children sternly. "Now, perhaps, you’d care to explain yourselves."

"We had too, Dad!" Harry piped up. "You and Grandpa Alby were gone! I knew Quirrel was going after the Stone!"

"We did try and tell Professor McGonagall," Hermione piped up, "but she did not believe us."

"It was not that I did not believe you, child," Minerva told her, gently. "It was simply none of your business!"

"That is correct," Severus said, glaring.

"He was going to get the Stone!" Harry exclaimed again.

"No, Harry, he was not," Dumbldore told him, gently. "The Mirror would not have let him have it."

"I-It wouldn’t, but then…" Harry frowned. "Why did it let me?"

"Because," the Headmaster told him, "you wanted the Stone—but you did not wish to use it. Only someone with noble intentions was allowed to retrieve it. One of my better ideas, I think."

"So, you see," Severus told them. "You lot rushing off into imperiled danger was absolutely unnecessary!"

The children all winced as his voice rose several octaves at this.

"A-Are you going to have us expelled?" Hermione asked him, a lone tear trekking down her cheek.

z88;

"Don’t be foolish, girl," Severus snapped, shaking his head. "Though I am half tempted to turn you all across my knee!"

"Dad," Harry said, "don’t punish them. It was my idea…"

"Shut up, you prat," Draco growled. "You didn’t twist my arm or anything. I went willingly."

"Yeah, mate," Ron piped up from the bed. "Beatin’ that nasty git Quirrel is worth a wallopin’…I, uh, think." He glanced at Severus hesitantly.

Severus snorted. "You’d change your tune very quickly, Mr. Weasley," he told him, seriously. "Lucky for you, I am in a very forgiving mood at the moment."

"Y-Y-You are?!" Neville piped up, wide-eyed.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom," Severus told him, "I am. I am also relieved you are all unharmed."

"As are we all," Dumbledore spoke. "Now, though, perhaps you all would care to explain how it is you came to know of the Stone and that it was Professor Quirrel trying to gain access to it."

Harry sighed. "I guess it started on my birthday, " he told them. "when Hagrid took me to Gringotts to get money out of my vault to buy my school supplies…"

They all listened as he recounted finding out about the robbery, stumbling upon Fluffy, Hagrid letting it slip about ‘Nicholas Flamel’, and then overhearing him and Quirrel in the corridor.

"After I knew it was Quirrel trying to kill me," Harry said, "I knew it had to be him doing all the other stuff, too. When I found out both of you were gone today, I just knew this was when he was going to try for it. And when Professor McGonagall wouldn’t listen to us…"

"I listened, young man," Minerva informed him, frostily. "I told you…"

"We know, Minerva," Severus said, rolling his eyes. "Let it go, woman!"

She pinned him with a look that reminded him of when he was twelve. "You are not too old to spank, Severus," she growled at him, crossing his arms over her chest.

Severus blushed at that, glaring at the children for snickering. "You lot certainly aren’t," he reminded them, sternly.

"Now, Minnie," Dumbledore spoke, patting the Transfiguration teacher on the cheek. "You’ve had quite a shock today. Why don’t we adult go to my office for some tea and scones. The children, I am sure, are tired from their adventure. We can leave them here in Madame Pomfrey’s capable hands for a bit of a lie down, yes?"

"Grandpa Alby!" Harry protested, indignantly. "We’re not babies. We don’t need a nap!"

"You will do as your grandfather says, young man," Severus growled at him. "Now, get into that bed this instant."

Harry glared at him. He glared back, raising an eyebrow ever so slight. Harry sighed, and then got into bed beside Ron.

The other children all did the same and before long they were all sleeping peacefully.

"Come, love," Severus said to Lily. "Let’s leave them to Pomfrey for a little while."

Lily nodded and followed him out of the infirmary to up to Albus’ office.

Severus reached over and took her hand, which she gently squeezed.

He smiled. . "I don’t know about you," he whispered to her, "but I could go for a nap myself."

She smiled back. "Napping isn’t what I had in mind," she whispered back at him, grinning wickedly.

Severus blushed all the way down toes, as they continued on up the Headmaster’s office.

SSSSSSSS

Lily sat in Severus’ quarters, in his favorite armchair, waiting.

He came in a moment later, smiling.

"Are they all safely tucked into bed?" she asked him, curiously.

"Yes, our son included," he told her, coming over and smiling at her. "It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?"

"Yes, it has," she told him, gently.

"Lily," he told her, kneeling down in front of her. "There’s something I was planning to ask you tonight—while we laid in bed at the Three Broomsticks—but now’s as a good a time as any, I suppose…"

"What is it, Sev?" she asked him, curiously.

From his pocket, he pulled out a velvet box and opened it. The ring inside was set in gold with an emerald and rubies.

"Oh, Sev," she told him, smiling. "It’s beautiful!"

"I’m glad you like it," Severus told her. "Would you do something for me, then?"

"What?" she asked him, curiously.

He smiled up at her. "Will you consent to be my wife…again?" he asked her, hopefully.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded. "Of course I will," she told him, smiling brightly as he removed the ring from its box and placed it on her finger.

Standing up, he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly.

"Hmm, Sev," she said, purring against his lips. "How about we celebrate?"

He smirked at her. "Have something in mind, love?" he asked, curiously.

Her eyes twinkling she nodded. "I can think of a few things," she told him, as he led her towards his bedroom.

"You know," he told her, wryly. "So can I…"

Her laughter joined with his, as they entered the bedroom.

It was, she thought, the perfect end to the perfect day.