Tim and Potter stopped for lunch at the Three Broomsticks, where Rosemerta still presided cheerfully; afterwards, they Apparated to the Burrow, the abode of Arthur and Molly Weasley, where a mob of children had apparently taken over the place. Severus counted at least six: the bushy-haired girl who was the spitting image of Granger, a boy with brown hair that had Ron Weasley’s long nose, the Malfoy boy, Lily, Albus and the dark-haired girl who had been at Tim’s bedside when Severus had first awoken in this body.

Potter’s Apparition into the Weasleys’ front garden had put them almost into the middle of a snowball fight which both Tim and he joined with gusto. Severus wondered if Potter had completely taken leave of his senses, letting Tim risk re-injury, until he noted that none of the icy missiles came near the child. Apparently, Potter had put a surreptitious repelling charm on the boy.

As the sinking sun infused the sky with red gold, Tim slipped from the snowball fight. Like Severus, he only liked such games in small doses. The day had worn him out and he preferred to have some time to think.

Severus noticed with interest that, even in the middle of a snowball fight, Potter seemed very aware of the children. When Tim left the group, Potter took a moment to meet his eyes. The child smiled at Potter, who smiled back and gave him an encouraging nod, clearly recognizing the boy’s need for space and quiet to process the afternoon.

He headed into the kitchen, brought up short by the crowd that was gathered there: the adults who apparently belonged to the children. A middle-aged Hermione was helping Molly pass around tea. Arthur was in the corner with a big blond-headed man that Severus didn’t know, and to Severus’ complete and utter astonishment, Narcissa Malfoy sat at the kitchen table with the two Weasley women.

Molly Weasley looked up at Tim’s entrance, giving him a smile of greeting. Hermione and Narcissa were immersed in conversation, as were the two men.

Without missing a beat of the conversation, Molly summoned a teacup and set a stack of chocolate biscuits in front of an empty chair.

Tim sat down in the chair and took his tea with a soft word of thanks. From the boy’s mental chatter, Severus got the idea that he was a bit overawed by Narcissa.

For her part, she acknowledged the boy with a smile, but no other greeting was forthcoming. In her world, Severus knew, children were to be seen and not heard. Tim’s manner must actually be quite endearing to her. Draco, with his boisterous ways, had been a trial to her when he was tiny.

Tim’s position gave Severus time to take a long look at his old friend.

Her hair was still blonde[H1]  and she was still thin, but there were lines around her eyes and mouth. Her bearing was no less aristocratic, but she had grown old. Indeed, she looked much older than Molly Weasley, who was at least ten years her senior. Severus was surprised that she let her age show so much.

He took in the cut of her robe. It was much less lavish than she was normally wont to wear. Perhaps she was in reduced circumstances and didn’t have the money for the expensive charms that made one look younger. Simple glamours were never Narcissa’s style; they put a constant low-level drain on her power and she complained that they always gave her a headache.

“How is your husband, Narcissa?” Molly was asking her solicitously, as she handed her a cup of tea. Molly had always been the very soul of a good hostess—her pure-blood manners and carriage being brought out by her guest.

Narcissa sighed, “They’re sending him home tomorrow, they think. The healers say that… ” she stopped, swallowed. “Well, we’d like him to come home for Christmas, obviously… And then… well… ” She trailed off, swallowing as though fending off tears.

The two other witches glanced at each other, but didn’t interrupt as Narcissa took a breath to get hold of herself. She continued in a rough voice, “We’ve decided it’s best that he stay home after that. We can keep him comfortable. He wants to come home so much. The healers say that there’s not much time left. Draco… he and Hannah are arranging things at the house now.”

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Molly said gently.

Narcissa nodded jerkily. “Yes, well… we all pay for our mistakes, eventually.” She sounded bitter. “I told him… ” Her eyes blazed with sudden anger as she went on, “All these years later—all that we went through—serving the Dark… ” She stopped again, putting her hand over her mouth as though preventing herself from speaking further.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Molly stood up quickly, muttering about putting on the kettle. This was obviously a subject they were not going to discuss at her table.

Narcissa dropped her hand from her mouth and picked up her tea. Severus noted that Molly had brought out good china teacups to serve the guests today.

After a moment, Narcissa’s eyes fell onto Tim. She gave him a brittle smile and asked in a voice of patently artificial cheer, “Did you have a nice afternoon with your father?”

“Yes, Mrs. Malfoy.” Tim nodded solemnly.

“Where did you go?” she asked him, clearly wanting to get the conversation away from herself.

“We… er… ” Tim trailed off and looked around for Molly and Hermione

 Hermione jumped in, “Harry took Tim to his grandmother’s grave. They always go today.”

Tim flashed her a grateful smile.

Narcissa nodded approvingly. “You are a good child.” Such customs were important in pure-blood households, where lineage was prized, “Draco always hated to visit the family tomb.” She turned to the other witches. “It’s good to see that some of us keep the old customs. So this would be the Smith side?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, the Dawson side,” she said firmly. At the older woman’s blank look she said, “His Muggle family.” The Muggleborn witch raised an eyebrow as though daring Narcissa to make a comment.

Narcissa took the hint. “I understand you were sorted into Slytherin,” she said to Tim, casting about for something to say.

Hermione seemed to hold her breath, while Tim nodded.

“I was sorted into Slytherin and so were both my husband and my son,” Narcissa told him proudly. “The Black side of the family were all Slytherins.”

“Uncle Ted’s a Gryffindor—Auntie Andromeda was a Black wasn’t she? ” Tim said softly, “And Scorpius is a Ravenclaw.”

Narcissa sighed, “Yes, well… ”

“Oh really, let’s not get into all of that.” Hermione glared at Narcissa.

“Auntie Roz was a Slytherin,” said Tim more brightly. “Oh. And you know who else told me she was a Slytherin?”

“Who, dear?” Molly asked, glaring at both the younger women.

“Madam Pomfrey.”

Severus had never heard that before. Poppy was not as old as Minerva, but she was not far off. About the same age as Hagrid, and she had never mentioned her house affiliation in all the time Severus had known her.

Tim was enjoying surprising all the women with knowing something not even his Aunt Hermione knew. He grinned. “There were a lot of famous healers who came out of Slytherin in the early days, she said, even though now everyone thinks of Hufflepuff when they think of healers. But Madam Pomfrey says that one Slytherin was so famous as a healer that the Muggles use his symbol for their healers. It’s a wand with two snakes. It’s called a cau… caud… ” he stumbled over the unfamiliar word.

“Caduceus,” Hermione supplied automatically, staring at the child.

Tim nodded happily. “Yes. After Hogwarts, this Slytherin went to a Wizard healing college and then a Muggle one and became a physician.” he looked aside at Molly and Narcissa. “—that’s what the Muggles call their healers sometimes—He became the physician for King Edward the—I think—Fourth, and then Queen Mary, and then Queen Elizabeth the First. See, he was a half-blood and he thought the Muggles should have good healers too, and it’s really surprising all the healing that you can do without magic but he taught a lot of treatments that only work really well if you’ve got a wand so there’s a lot of treatments that didn’t work for Muggles well. But a lot of the healing plants work the same on Muggles as they do on us. ” It suddenly caught up to the child that he was talking to Narcissa as well as his aunt and grandmother. Shyness welled up in him and he stopped speaking, diverting his attention to his tea.

“Did Madam Pomfrey tell you that?” Hermione asked, astonished.

“Mm, hm.” Tim replied, “Eleanor asked her dad to look it up on the Web, and he said that the Muggles did have records of him.”

Severus could tell by the look in Hermione’s eyes that she was just aching to go find a library.

At that moment, the rest of the children trooped in, raising the noise level in the room tenfold. A rather chaotic leave-taking ensued. Narcissa and Scorpius left by the front door after Scorpius very formally thanked Molly and Arthur for their hospitality. The dark girl gave everyone a hug and promised to see them Christmas Eve, also leaving by the front door with the blond man, who hugged everyone as well. Hermione gathered her two around her and Flooed from the kitchen. Lily and Albus followed her.

“Can you Floo by yourself, do you think?” asked Potter quietly.

Tim nodded. His adopted grandparents took it in turns to give him hugs before he left, promising to see him for Christmas dinner, if not before.

“You lot go get tidied up,” Ginny said as soon as the family tumbled out of the Floo. “People will be here in a few hours.” She looked critically at Tim. “You need to have a lie-down.”

Tim nodded, although he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Mu-um, I’m too old for naps.”

“Don’t argue,” Ginny said briskly, although she gave him a quick hug as he went past. “Bed.”

 Severus saw, although Tim did not, that Ginny knew the child would not admit to his fatigue.

It was at least an hour later when the house-elf poked the child awake. “Little Master should wake up,” he croaked. “Guests are here and Kreacher is helping Miss Ginny putting dinner on the table soon.”

“Thanks, Kreacher,” Tim said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He’d gone to sleep in his pullover and jeans on top of his covers. He’d intended to stay awake and read, but he’d fallen asleep almost the minute he lay down.

Too old for naps? Severus thought, amused, although he had actually fallen asleep with the boy.

Oh, shush, you, Tim thought back.

“Bad enough to have Mum fussing over me,” he remarked to Kreacher, “but I’ve got Him-in-my-head fussing too.”

The house-elf nodded, “I suppose Little Master still needs Other Master?” He sounded nervous.
“Perhaps Little Master should speak to Master Harry?”

Tim nodded, going still, a wash of almost-fear at that prospect moving through his body and mind.

Severus felt himself freeze up as well. It sounded as though Kreacher had known the whole time that he was here, and had decided that he was part of the family.

“You don’t think… ” Tim hesitated, “that there’s something… y’know… wrong with me? Do you?” he asked anxiously. For some reason, the specter of ending up in the locked ward in St. Mungo’s reared its head. “That cracking my head is going to make me sick again?”

The word “sick” was accompanied with images Severus didn’t like to examine too closely. They all contained an unpleasant amount of pain.

The elderly house-elf stared at Tim, looking right though him. Severus wondered what he saw. “Kreacher thinks Little Master should speak to Master Harry.” His bullfrog voice was firm this time.

Tim nodded and asked, “Do you think I should ask them tonight?”

Kreacher nodded his head. “Master Harry and Mistress Ginny will know what to do.”

“I’ll talk to them tonight, then.”

Severus could have cheered. One diagnostic spell from the Auror would show the disembodied spirit in the boy’s aura. After that, there were any number of spells that would rid the boy of his alien presence and, not incidentally, grant Severus the peace that he craved.

That settled, the boy ran a brush through his hair and put on a clean shirt, checking in the mirror to see if his face was clean. He trotted down the stairs to the drawing room where he heard the voices of the adults.

“I hope you don’t mind me tagging along with Minerva and Neville,” someone was saying. Severus was fairly certain he’d heard the voice before, but didn’t place it.

“Oh no, Professor Bulstrode, I’m so glad you did,” Ginny’s voice replied. “I was so pleased when Minerva owled. Always room for one more.” She did sound pleased: yet another surprise for Severus.

Tim smiled. Severus got the feeling he liked his head of house very much (he knew that she was the head of Slytherin from eavesdropping on the boy’s thoughts). Tim paused on the landing, wondering if they were going to talk about him.

“Oh, please, call me Millie,” she said. “Erm… before Tim comes in, I’d like to ask you… well… I know there was a lot of bad blood between our two houses and… I was wondering if there was anything I could do to make it easier for you?”

“Millie,” that was Potter’s voice. He sounded good humored but firm. “We absolutely don’t have a problem with it.”

“Millie was worried because there were some students over the past few years that have contravened the family legacy,” Minerva put in. “You know how people can be about such things. And it was quite the shock, I’ll be honest.”

“The War was almost twenty five years ago,” Potter said with finality. “The same house that produced Voldemort also produced Erica Roslyn, Poppy Pomfrey and Severus Snape. I hope having a Potter in your house hasn’t stirred up old grudges?”

“Well, I did catch him fighting with some Ravenclaws.” Millie’s voice dropped a trifle. “I’m afraid I had to take some points from him. He’s very good at the bat bogey hex.”

Ginny giggled, “Oh dear. That must have been a surprise.”

There were a few other muffled snorts. Lily and Albus’ laughter could be heard.

“Where’d he learn that?” asked a different woman’s voice.

“I… ah… might have showed it to the children once,” Ginny told her sheepishly.

More laughter.

Tim decided that he wasn’t going to hear anything of interest, so he continued into the room.

Minerva and the woman Millicent Bulstrode had grown into sat together on one settee.

The headmistress was smirking to herself, as if at a private joke. Again Severus was struck by how much she’d aged. But she looked comfortable, sitting on Potter’s settee, as though this were something she frequently did.

Millie, in contrast, was still sitting nervously, with her hands folded in her lap as though at an interview or exam. She had grown into a much more attractive woman than she had been as a child. She sat up straight, not attempting to hide her height. Although she was still quite large across the shoulders and hips, her amethyst-colored robes were quite becomingly cut. A matching hat sat on her head, with her hair caught up in a snood at the back. When she smiled, it reached her eyes, which was something Severus had never seen before.

Severus remembered well her struggles with depression, her difficulties fitting in. She’d spent all her Hogwarts years moping around with a perpetual frown. Her parents were an old pure-blood line, fallen on hard times, and their expectations of her didn’t lie with the child’s own natural inclinations. She had joined Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad when the odious woman had been running the place because she’d been promised a job in Umbridge’s office, as some sort of assistant to an assistant.

That would have been a great waste in Severus’ opinion, because Bulstrode had been one of those rare students who truly understood potions. It did appear that, after the War, Bulstrode had taken his advice and found a potions apprenticeship.

“Hello, Tim,” Neville Longbottom’s voice said from the chair beside the door

Showing no reticence whatsoever, Tim turned and smiled. “Hi, Neville,” he said softly.

Longbottom had changed a great deal as well, although his face was still round and boyish. His robes were a little severe, navy blue with no ornamentation at all. Perhaps it was to lend some gravitas to his demeanor. He smiled back at the boy. “How’s the head?”

“Better,” replied Tim. He didn’t elaborate when all the adults turned their eyes to him. They smiled in greeting while Tim nervously crossed to stand by Potter, who gave him a hug.

Neville didn’t press him. “I think Miss Alice could do with a partner,” he said, jerking his head towards the table in the corner.

Lily and Albus were there, playing a game of cards with none other than Alice Longbottom.

The woman looked up; her eyes were a little vague, but she clearly was aware of where she was. She smiled at the child.  “Come help me. Lily and Al were going to teach me a new game, but we need four.”

Alice was dressed in a bright blue robe that matched her eyes. Her sleeves and neckline were trimmed with white fur. Her white hair was braided and arranged on her head like a crown. She picked up the cards as Albus dealt them out.

Alice had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix LeStrange at the end of the First War. The last time Severus had seen her had been in the long-term ward at St. Mungo’s. She had worn her dressing gown, with her hair cut short by the hospital staff to keep it from getting matted when she wouldn’t allow anyone to brush it for months at a time. She’d not had enough awareness of anything outside of herself to interact with anyone, let alone play a game, and she was only just able to pick up a spoon and feed herself.

“You look like the Snow Queen,” Tim said to Alice. Severus could feel how fond the child was of the woman. Tim sat down and picked up his own cards to look at them.

“Snow Queen?” asked Lily, interested.

“It’s a fairy story Nana used to read me,” Tim told them, his voice quiet.

Lily and Albus looked at each other uneasily.

Alice on the other hand, looked at the child sympathetically. She reached over to pat his hand. “I don’t know that one. Would you read it to me sometime?”

Tim shook his head. “I don’t have a copy. I’d forgotten about it till just now.” He shrugged, lowering his eyes to his cards. “What’re we playing?” he asked, diverting everyone, sorry now that he’d said it and made everyone uncomfortable.

Albus jumped in, explaining the rules of the game to Alice. Severus was astonished at how easily she followed, although when it came to keeping count of points, Tim needed to do that.

“I can’t keep it in my head,” she laughed.

If Severus had been in his own body, he would have fallen off his chair at that sound. For sixteen years, Alice Longbottom had never laughed.

The hospital staff had told him that she had night terrors when she would jump up out of her bed and scream until they spelled a Dreamless Sleep potion into her. If they didn’t, she would scream until her voice failed. Mostly, the hospital staff spent their time preventing her from hurting herself, or comforting her after nightmares, but sometimes her magic would burst out in her defense. The long-term ward was specifically enchanted to dampen that.

Of course, since she couldn’t speak, there had been no way to know how much of this she was aware of.

Now Albus had to keep patiently explaining the rules to her, but it was plain that she was a favorite with the children. If someone had asked, Severus would have had to say she had the demeanor of an older teenager, although her face was lined and her hair stark white. This was very like the popular girl at Hogwarts Alice had been

Severus mentally shook his head, wondering what could have caused this amazing recovery.

They played several hands before Kreacher called them to the dinner table.

Tim sat down between Alice and Ginny. For some reason, there appeared to be one more place setting than there were people.

“Oh, sorry, Kreacher,” Ginny said suddenly. “I forgot to tell you that James owled.” She exchanged an unreadable glance with Potter, who frowned. “He can’t make it.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Neville said, apparently missing the subtext between Ginny and Potter. “I hoped to see him.”

Nervously watching Potter as though awaiting an explosion, Kreacher came in and whisked the extra place setting off the table.