Chapter 16

Everyone knew that the Board of Governors was an austere group of old men and none of them, not a one, had ever before attended a sorting at Hogwarts, at least not since they themselves had sat on the stool with the ragged old hat on their heads.

So when the seven men (one day, thought Minerva, she'd get a woman or five on that Board, starting with herself as soon as she retired) filed into the Great Hall after all the students were seated (all save the white-faced throng of first-years-to-be in the Entrance Hall) a hush fell across the room, moving from back to front until all the students were perfectly silent and all eyes, all 800 of them, tracked the single file of wizards as it moved slowly up the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff house tables. This was quite unexpected and their silence was testament to how out of the normal this particular Welcome Feast would be.

Leading the line was a wizard of moderate age, carrying an intricate cane with an ivory head that he obviously did not need half as much as did the five men following him. His long blonde hair lay perfectly straight down his back, partially covering the fine black robes. The five gentlemen that followed him were nearly indistinguishable from each other, except that three had grey hair and two had white though one of these was nearly bald. They were elderly, even by wizarding definition, and wore robes of an older style, pleated in front, unbelted and subtly decorated with wizarding patterns—stars and moons, wands and owls—reminiscent (save for the subtlety) of those of another great wizard who once reigned over this hall.

Bringing up the rear of the line was the newest member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. The student body as a whole watched him with eyes wide open, some pointing or nudging their neighbors, but all as silent and as respectful as children can be after just having been reunited with their friends after a long summer with parents and siblings and no underage magic. The new Governor wore brand new dress robes of shimmering black, modern in cut but conservative nonetheless, purchased that very day on a spur of the moment shopping trip with a witch who had impeccable taste and a flare for style. He seemed as straight and tall as he ever had been, and he appeared to glide down the aisle without touching the floor. His hair, unusually short for a wizard of his age, caught their attention and nearly every eye strayed to the pale skin above the high-collared shirt, hoping to get a glimpse of the scar, the definitive proof that this indeed was Severus Snape, former Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Severus, who spent so many years of his youth as a spy, felt all the eyes upon him as he walked. Those who had known him twenty years ago were struck most by the expression on his face, as if he were trying to bite back a smile instead of a scowl.

The Governors made a right turn at the head table and proceeded around it to a row of chairs arranged on a raised platform behind the faculty. They remained standing while Neville Longbottom led the first years into the hall, following the same path as the Board of Governors had taken. Neville carried a very old three-legged stool and an even older wizarding hat that had smelled strongly of smoke for twenty years now. When Neville placed the sorting hat on the stool at the head of the aisle, the Governors sat down as one.

And the hat seemed to stretch itself and began to sing.

The words were not memorable and the message not original. The hat, having little to do since it was called upon to burn off young Neville's head twenty years ago, and having failed at its appointed task, had grown complacent and had taken to recycling songs. "Smoke damaged its brain," one faculty member had suggested the year it attempted to rhyme "Gryffindor" with "basted pork," causing the Gryffindors to protest (they did not take too kindly to their house being referred to as "Gryffindork"). "Really should have that thing checked out," said another the year the hat made mention of Merlin's balls (rhyming it with "Hallowed Halls" but causing quite a few elderly eyebrows to merge into hairlines while Minerva resolutely determined to explain that Merlin, along with his many other virtues, was a renowned Quidditch player).

Harry sat at the head table, wedged between Hagrid, who towered above him, and Orvilla Quotient, the Arithmancy Professor. He had not yet been introduced, but no one seemed to be paying him much attention with the sorting about to begin and the Board of Governors' procession having been the focus of the evening so far. His eyes had followed the solemn procession of Governors and he'd dared to wink at Severus as he turned at the head of the table to follow the line to their seats of honor. But now his eyes were on the group of first years, particularly one little girl with red hair and bright brown eyes who was, predictably, bouncing up and down in excitement.

Neville unrolled a scroll and read off the first name.

"Anderson, Mathilda."

And the sorting began.

There seemed to be a larger number of students entering Hogwarts this year, perhaps as many as 60 or 70. Harry had read that wizards of his generation were having more children than their parents did, and the proof was here before them.

"Drubridge, Hector."

Severus had eyes only for this daughter. She might have been hard to spot, except that she was holding so close to her friend, and he had no trouble spotting Lily's red hair, especially since it was bouncing up and down in excitement.

"Farneyhoo, Allison."

Harry hoped the girls would remain friends at Hogwarts, even though it seemed inevitable that they'd be placed in different houses. He'd spoken to Lily about it, and she'd seemed unbothered. "James and Al have friends in other houses," she explained, hands on hips in a fair imitation of her mother.

"Lancaster, Peter."

Severus tugged on his shirt collar. Sophie had insisted that it would work just as well as the turtleneck and had insisted on buttoning it up for him. The collar fit fairly closely around his neck, high enough that his chin grazed it when he lowered his head. The shirt was of a deep charcoal, not quite black, and the buttons up the front ran to the top of the collar. No one save Harry had seen the scars on his neck, and Harry only the one time, the first time they had met, when Severus had pulled down his shirt collar to ask Harry how he had gotten the scar it covered. No one but Harry had seen them until today, when Sophie had helped him with the collar, not commenting on the scar at all, but touching the skin there in the same casual way she worked on the buttons themselves.

"Potter, Lily."

Severus had been staring at Harry's back, trying to judge the distance from the top of Harry's head to the top of Hagrid's. But the name, read aloud, surname first and given name last, resonated so strongly with him that he jerked his head up and stared at the little girl as she climbed onto the stool. She sat a bit sideways, so that he could see her in profile. Lily. Lily Potter.

"Gryffindor!" the hat sang out and Lily promptly removed it from her head, hopped down and dropped it back on the stool. She looked up at her father as she did, gave him a happy wave and caught Severus staring at her, caught the wretched look on his face. Lily frowned a moment, creasing her eyes and cocking her head fractionally, but brightened when Severus gave her a slight smile and a nod.

"Quinton, Pius."

Who would name their child Pius? thought Harry as he watched the small blonde boy go into Ravenclaw.

"Rothganger, Rhae."

Rhae also became a Ravenclaw. Severus clapped politely with the rest of the Governors.

"Salares, Constance."

Harry glanced over at the Gryffindor table where Lily sat next to Al and across from James. She was kneeling up on the bench so that she could see the stool.

"Snape, Anna."

Anna didn't move. She looked around at the dozen or so children remaining before realization hit her. All her life she'd been Anna Squires, conveniently close in the alphabet to Snape, but Squires nonetheless.

"Oh! That's me!" she said, a bit embarrassed. Neville nodded at her in encouragement as she went forward, picked up the hat, climbed up on the stool then placed the hat on her head. As it did with many of the first years, the brim of the hat fell down over her eyes.

"Ahhhh….it's been a long time since I've had a Snape on this stool," said the hat in a voice that resonated inside her head. "Let's take a look inside that brain of yours and see if you measure up to the mettle of your father."

"My Papa's here, you know," said Anna, very quietly. She was both intrigued and disturbed by the voice in her head.

"As he should be," replied the Sorting Hat. "He belongs to Hogwarts, you know. What is that saying? Once a Headmaster, always a Headmaster?"

"I haven't heard that one, actually," said Anna.

"Maybe it's 'If a Headmaster should fall, he'll hang on the wall," mused the hat.

"That's just silly," said Anna. She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. "Let's just get on with this, shall we?"

"Well then," said the hat's voice inside her head. "What have we here? Intelligence. Quite the clever girl you are, convincing your father to let you go to school here. Bravery, but not enough for a Gryffindor. Not this year, anyway, with all the Weasleys and Potters filling up those benches…."

"Those Weasleys and Potters are my friends," said Anna. "I hope you didn't mean to imply something negative with that statement."

"Oh no! Not at all!" said the hat, without sounding at all convincing.

"Listen, I just want to make my father proud of me," said Anna. "And I want to understand him better, as a wizard I mean…"

But the hat was already exclaiming, even as she spoke.

"Slytherin!"

"Finally!" she huffed, giving her father's worried face the brightest of smiles as she dropped the hat rather unceremoniously back on the stool, waved at a bouncing and smiling Lily and marched herself over to the Slytherin table where she scooted in next to Baker, Meredith and turned with the rest of the table to watch the sorting end with Weasley, Hugo who, quite to his own surprise, and to the surprise of Gryffindor table and of the Sorting Hat itself, was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Headmistress McGonagall welcomed the students and introduced the Board of Governors then invited them to sit at their old house tables for the feast.

"Papa!" exclaimed Anna as Severus walked toward her, his face breaking into a smile at her delighted expression. "I did it! I got into Slytherin! I was worried there for a bit. I think the hat was leaning toward Ravenclaw."

"Were you having a discussion with it?" he asked quietly as little Meredith Baker scooted over to make room for him, scooting quite a bit further than was absolutely necessary, he noted.

"Well…yes…" she answered. She leaned in to him, her eyes widening exponentially as the feast literally materialized in front of them. Severus noted, with satisfied pleasure, that the Slytherins at the table did not make mad grabs for the food and began an apparently organized process of passing bowls and platters. "It actually seemed more interested at first in you than in me. It kept spouting sayings I've never heard of regarding Headmasters."

"I see," said Severus, accepting a platter of twice baked potatoes from a prefect across the table and nodding his thanks. The prefect looked terribly pleased for some reason. He looked at the plate, instinctively knowing that twice baked potatoes had not been standard Hogwarts fare in his day. Had the house elves been attending cooking classes?

"Actually," continued Anna, gazing up again, as she had quite a few times already, at the hundreds of candles floating above their heads, "it said 'If a Headmaster should fall, he'll hang on the wall."

"Did it? That's an interesting saying. I assume it refers to portraits, don't you think?" answered Severus. He glanced down at his daughter's plate. Despite the fact that at least half of the serving plates on the table offered simple carbohydrates, she had filled a third of her plate with vegetables and had opted for whole grain wheat rolls instead of the white. He mentally added a full study of nutrition and dietary planning to his Hogwarts agenda and wondered how that was to be accomplished with a battalion of house elves who were nothing if not eager to please the children.

"Portraits! That's it, isn't it?" She took a long drink of pumpkin juice. Severus looked around but did not see jugs of milk on the table. "I was imagining them hanging on big pegs in the wall by their cloaks. See, that's why I shouldn't be in Ravenclaw. I'm pants at riddles."

Severus' eyebrows rose a fraction.

"Pants?"

"Oops. James and Al and Lily say that all the time. I rather like it, Papa. I know it's slang, but I suppose I'll be picking even more up now that I'm at Hogwarts with so many other children."

"I suppose," admitted Severus. "However, should you pick up too much and I notice it when you come home for holidays, I may rethink your schooling here…"

"Papa!" exclaimed Anna. Several heads among those that were not already following their conversation turned toward them.

Severus shook his head and reached over and ruffled his daughter's hair.

"Sir?"

Severus looked up at the prefect sitting across the table. She was politely waiting for him to acknowledge her.

"Sir, in case you were wondering, Slytherin house has changed a bit over the years."

"Has it?" he asked, one eyebrow raising in a Snape-like way. Several of students sitting around him instinctively leaned back and several more smiled. There was a portrait of Severus Snape in their common room, one that had been commissioned by the Board of Governors after Severus' disappearance and supposed death twenty years ago. It didn't speak or even move much, but it did exhibit any number of fairly menacing facial expressions, and the raised eyebrow was one of its favorites. It was known to do the eyebrow lift when it wanted to cast doubt on what it was apparently hearing or seeing.

"Well, yes, it has," continued the prefect. "The sorting hat been much more willing to ignore blood lineage . We have Muggle-borns in Slytherin, and half-bloods and…" she swallowed and looked down the table where a familiar looking boy was talking animatedly with his friends. He gave a small wave to Severus. "And even a Weasley."

"Fred, isn't it?" asked Severus, nodding at the boy and returning his 'thumbs up' gesture, much to the delight of the students sitting near him.

"Yes," she said, blushing slightly. "He was quite a surprise, actually."

"May I assume that Slytherin house still has age-based bedtime curfews and study hours?" asked Severus. Anna watched the exchange, feeling extremely proud of her father.

"Except on Fridays and Saturdays," answered a second prefect. No, this one was the Head Boy, realized Severus, glancing at the young man's badge.

"Excellent," said Severus. "And orientation for the first-years?"

"They're assigned a second-year and a fifth-year buddy," answered the Head Boy. "Though we call them mentors in Slytherin. The other houses have adopted the system too. Frankly, we take it more seriously here…"

The conversation continued, and Severus fell into it easily, the organization and daily activities of life at Hogwarts coming back to him like second nature. Students shuffled places on the benches, each wanting to have face time with this intriguing icon of a man they'd read about in their history books and heard about this summer in The Daily Prophet. Anna was already becoming a minor celebrity. He didn't mind that. She was a Slytherin, after all, and should take advantage of every opportunity presented her.

Over at the Gryffindor table, old Theobald Kneebender, the youngest of the oldsters on the Board of Governors, had happened to choose a seat at his old house table in the middle of the Potter family. He frowned at his pumpkin juice while the children chattered on around him. Lifting a piece of chicken from a platter before him, he frowned at the coating. He frowned at the peas—mashed instead of whole—though he was not alone in his disapproval of that dish. A small voice near him seemed to be addressing him, cutting through the foggy mental clouds of his mind that were focused solely on getting through this meal and getting home to his warm bed in his quiet echoing manor.

"When were you here, sir? In Gryffindor House, I mean."

It wasn't a Potter who asked the question, though all of the Potters, along with several more Gryffindors, turned to look at the old man expectantly.

Kneebender swallowed a piece of twice-baked potato, surprised. He looked across the table at the girl who had spoken. She seemed polite enough.

"I was sorted into Gryffindor in 1929," he answered, feeling just a bit proud to have made it to 2019 quite intact and unscathed.

Mouths around him dropped open.

"Wow," said Albus Potter, visibly impressed. "What was Gryffindor like back then, sir?"

"Was Nearly Headless Nick here?"

"Was Dumbledore Headmaster?"

"Did you have the Fat Lady?"

"Did you have to wear this stupid tie?"

Kneebender's surprised face turned from one young person to the next, trying to follow the questions which, in typical Gryffindor fashion, were coming at him like spells in a duel. He really didn't understand children. He'd never had any of his own, of course, what with the business to run and Portia spending so much time on the continent…

"Did you beat Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup?"

Ahh! There was a question he could answer. He smiled, remembering the rivalries of the day and how, all these years later, he had been surprised to see Milo Weatheringham moving slowly over to the Hufflepuff table when the Headmistress had invited the board members to eat with their old houses. He cleared his throat, testing his voice with an "Ahem" that seemed to surprise the children.

"In my day," he began, "Slytherin had the better brooms…"

"They still do," groused James.

"…but Gryffindor, Gryffindor, could fly circles around them even if they had nothing but the caretaker's push broom to ride on…"

When Minerva McGonagall stood up to give the welcome speech and introduce the new faculty, Kneebender was just finishing a tale featuring a sixteen-hour Quidditch match against Slytherin in which both Seekers had been injured in a mid-air collision and the match had not ended until one of them was released from the hospital wing.

Her speech was brief but warm, as usual. All the students collectively groaned as two more items from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Cordless Extendable Ears and Wide Awake Study Time Elixir Drops, were banned from Hogwarts.

"And we have only one new professor this year," she continued, ignoring the boos, strangely coming from the NEWT level students who had been counting on some extra study time from the WASTED potion. "Mr. Harry Potter, formerly of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, will be assuming the role of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry stood and waved to the expected raucous applause. At the Slytherin table, Severus was both pleased and interested to see that the applause was no less exuberant than at the other tables.

"Finally!" said a boy of 15 or 16 sitting on the other side of Anna. "A Defense Professor worth his salt. Old Pieman was so bad at dodging curses when he was an Auror that he didn't have many brain cells left firing when he started here."

Severus snorted. He couldn't help it, really. Heads turned toward him in surprise. Scorpius Malfoy, who had moved himself closer to this icon of a man, smiled. He'd been lulled to sleep many times on stories of Severus Snape, told in his father's quiet voice, stories that had details that weren't in the history books, told with awe that could never be captured on a page. Scorpius Malfoy had to live up to a name that had been sullied, stamped on then slowly, oh so slowly, redeemed by his father's behavior following the war in which he almost, almost, killed the great Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Lucius Malfoy watched his grandson carefully, noting his interest and silently approving. It would do Scorpius, and the Malfoys in general, good to be associated with Severus. Lucius was no fool. He realized what he had in store for him on the Board of Governors with Severus Snape aboard the ship. Draco had managed to save the family name while Lucius protected its fortune. Now Lucius, perhaps, could ride someone else's coattails and take credit for bringing the 20th century into Hogwarts…before too much of the 21st had passed.

Students were standing now, being dismissed house by house by the Headmistress.

"I'll be fine, Papa, really," said Anna, hugging her father. "And you will too. You've got oh so much to do, haven't you? To get your research going? I expect to read about it in the Prophet, you know. And you're to write me often. I'll instruct Moonstone to wait for a reply whenever he brings a letter from me, all right? You'd best invest in some owl treats—I expect you can buy them in Hogsmeade or in Diagon Alley." She stopped chattering as she looked at her father's face. She'd never been separated from him before, not once in her life that she could remember anyway, and had been quite worried about how it would be to sleep in a four-poster bed in a room with several other girls every night, to not hear her father's gentle snores from across the hall when she woke up to get a drink of water. She wondered how you woke up here at Hogwarts. Were there alarm clocks? Spells that worked like them? She'd only ever been awakened by her father's gentle hand on her shoulder, and his voice in her sleepy head telling her to wake up and join the living.

"I'll miss you, Papa," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him one more time and kissing his cheek.

"I shall miss you too, pumpkin," he answered, using the only name he ever called her besides Anna. His voice caught, as it often did in his damaged throat. He pulled away a bit so that they were nose to nose. "I truly did not care which house you went to, but am especially glad that we have one more thing to share between us." He reached out a hand and adjusted the green and silver tie that the prefects had passed out to the newly-sorted first years. In the back of his mind he thought that the ties should go—wasn't there a more appropriate way of showing house affiliation than an uncomfortable knot around the neck?

The Slytherins were being called to leave so he stepped back and allowed Anna to take her place with the other first years. When they were gone, he turned to see Harry with the Gryffindors, sitting on the bench but facing outwards, Lily in front of him, bouncing on her toes. Harry gave that exasperated smile of his and Lily hugged him suddenly then reached up under his glasses and wiped his eye with her thumb. She leaned over to kiss his cheek and then disappeared with the other Gryffindors. James and Al looked pleasantly bothered by the parting head rubs he gave them.

Severus walked up to the front of the hall where the other Governors were gathering, being introduced one by one to the Hogwarts staff.

"Just like old times," said Harry to Severus as he stopped beside him.

Severus let his eyes drift upward toward the enchanted ceiling. It was hard to see the stars with the candle flames softening the darkness.

Severus knew that Harry was not thinking of a sorting nearly 50 years ago when another Lily Potter had gone to Gryffindor and another Snape had gone to Slytherin. But he was. The memory, already returned to him by Stuart a week or more ago, had anchored itself firmly to a nest of others but Severus knew that Anna was not concerned that her friendship with this Lily Potter was doomed.

"Old times," he agreed.

"How was the date?" Harry changed tactics, grinning. "I think someone's gone shopping…"

"Oh? This old thing?" said Severus, innocently holding out his arms and looking down at the shimmering black silk.

Harry grinned. "I've known Sophie for years and that get-up has her fingerprints all over it, Severus."

Severus shrugged.

"I never kiss and tell," he dead-panned, raising his head a bit and beginning to walk toward the small antechamber where the Board of Governors would be holding a short meeting.

"Kiss?" Harry's voice trailed after him.

Severus Snape smiled…but kept walking.