Severus sat back in his green leather armchair, nursing a responsibly small firewhiskey and enjoying the crackling fire which he had told Sirius he needed to use to make floo calls to certain individuals whose discretion could be trusted and whose knowledge was needed. However, the young Potions Master had learned long ago that more haste was less speed when it came to extracting information: “work out your question first, then ask” as old Professor Amun used to say.

 

So here he was, toes curling into the thick, pale gold and jade green emerald rug left to him by a predecessor, mulling over what had been probably the strangest day of his life. It had certainly been made up from surprises.

 

Perhaps the biggest surprise, after the news about Lily, had been Sirius’ reaction to it all. Yes, Severus had understood that the man was no longer the louche, arrogant bully of his youth. Youth! It was strange in itself that his generation thought of that word in the past tense; in their twenties and already old men, with the guilt of soldiers who had won the battle but lost almost everyone who had meant anything.  

 

Yes, Sirius had grown up: auror training had given him discipline, taught him that his gifts- charm, intelligence and good looks- did not count for anything if he did not focus on the job in hand. There was no place for bullies- or pranks- in the auror corps and, at the few Order meetings he’d attended, Lily had ruled over the four men with an iron rod. Her mother’s maiden name had been Manners and the family’s unofficial motto was “Every Manners will have good manners”- the marauders hadn’t stood a chance against the beautiful redhead.

 

Absentmindedly brushing away a tear, Severus reached over and picked up the little silver pot of floo powder, initialled with a small, elegant “S.S.” Salicia Slytherin, an earlier head of Slytherin and one of the last to bear the name. He cupped the pot in his hands. He would call Hagrid first. The groundskeeper deserved to know what was happening, to say goodbye.

 

Severus had always had a soft spot for Hagrid, who had administered a fair few clips to the marauder’s ears and rescued Severus from a several pranks which, having been caught unaware, he would otherwise have found it difficult to extract himself from.

 

Hagrid had also been the one to find them, that night at Godric’s Hollow. Severus had arrived first and having, seen the house, the door gaping and James lying slumped against the stairs, proceeding to run around like a lunatic, screaming Lily’s name. Then there had been the roar of a motorbike outside, Sirius had run in, took one look at James and launched himself at Severus.

 

The ensuing scuffle had been short and undignified: being picked up off the floor and held at arms length like two naughty pups by the gigantic groundskeeper (who had somehow perfected his hold to mean that they could not even reach their wands, let alone draw them) had stopped the punches but not the words. Severus had accused Black of handing Lily to Voldemort, Black- red in the face with indignation and fury- had started to accuse Severus before paling and then starting to rave about Pettigrew, rats and secret keepers. On realising that Pettigrew had been made the secret keeper, Severus being- he admitted it now- a heartless git- had cursed Black for a fool: any idiot could have worked out that, if there was a spy, it would be that snivelling little weasel.

 

The Sirius had started to weep, admitting that the blame lay solely on his shoulders, that they should have trusted Remus, he had been a fool, etc, etc. Severus, shocked and with the nauseating sensation of guilt building in his stomach, had told Sirius not to be so arrogant as to claim all the blame, that the fault was that of the person who told Voldemort of the prophesy and (overcome with despair and almost welcoming punishment) the young potions master had admitted that person had been him.

 

At that point, Hagrid had shaken them and told them both not to be so daft. Nobody could have known that Voldemort would have taken Sibil Trelawney’s  words seriously- he had known Tom Riddle at school and the boy had always sneered at divination believing the subject to be mumbo jumbo and himself to be invulnerable to the fates. As for swapping the secret keepers, no one could blame Sirius for trusting a friendship which had lasted the best part of a decade. It had been Voldemort’s fault, plain and simple, to Hagrid’s mind.

 

Hearbroken and vulnerable, they had been escorted to Dumbledore’s office, where Remus Lupin was waiting, red eyed and shaking. Plans had been made: Sirius was to search for Harry and Lily, Remus (with the aid of James’ invisibility cloak) was to find Pettigrew and Severus had to slip on his death eater persona and gather up as much information as possible about Voldemort and his whereabouts. As he had left the office, Hagrid had put a hand on his shoulder and said “Don’t be a martyr, Sev’rus, there’s folks what need you alive.”

 

And the Groundskeepers words had been prophetic: two little boys, Lily’s sons, did need him.

 

Fiddling with the acorn shaped lid of the pot, Severus’ thoughts returned to his now partner in crime. Despite their earlier resolution that Hogwarts would be too dangerous for the two toddlers, Dumbledore- in his patented ‘wise old grandfather’ manner- had talked them around: the boys had new identities and they would not be roaming the school, perfectly safe in their chambers and Severus does have a private garden, perfect for young ones, besides I’ve been thinking about opening up a position for a duelling master for some time, dear boy, wouldn’t Sirius be just perfect, we could keep the governors happy by incorporating it into a ‘Wizarding Culture” course, who better to teach it than a Black?  

 

So, the new, rather puzzled, Professor Sirius Black was off choosing his rooms, which Hogwarts would then connect up to Severus’. The old girl was rather adept at that, having had centuries of courtships amongst the staff (some of whom would not know the word ‘compromise’ if it hit them hard over the head and certainly were not going to leave their comfortable chambers, thank you very much!)

 

So, all in all, the list drawn on the discussion on house rules had slimmed considerably. Of course, the more important points remained: as Sirius had pointed out, they both had hot tempers and therefore, the children’s presence should be treated like a no-conflict zone.

 

“We are a bit alike, you know, we both can’t handle critics but we react differently- you get snarky and I throw a tantrum and your snarkiness makes me angrier and my temper makes you more snarky. So, I think we’ve got to go cold turkey- we’ve got to avoid pissing each other off in front of the kids. If you say yes or no to something and I disagree, I’ll shut up and I expect you to respect my decisions too. Unless either of us is being a git- kids need to know that, if one parent gives them a hard time, the other will back them up. Only over big things, though. And, if the kids are in your quarters, I’ll make sure I wash up and don’t let them mess with your stuff.”

 

The little speech reminded Severus of a book written about the mating habits of Hippogriffs, which generally started off with a peace treaty. A better approach, perhaps, to drafting one after hostilities.

 

Then Sirius had dropped his bombshell “As for my quarters, well, I might have someone living with me soon.”

 

“The werewolf..!”

 

“No Snape” Sirius interrupted snappishly “A woman. My fiancée.”

 

For once, Seve8rus was lost for words “How… When?”

 

Sirius shrugged, blushing “Look, you know that year that I disappeared for a couple of months, around Yule.”

 

“And turned up with a massive scar on your leg?”

 

“Yeah, well, Sadie, she kind of likes dogs and, um, she found me, as Padfoot, in a gin trap. Well, it was her dog, Gandalf, who found me: they were walking in the snow and he sniffed me out and allowed her to help me.”

 

“Allowed her?”

 

“He knew I was an animagus, right. I didn’t though- I must have hit my head when I passed out and it took me a while to remember who and what I was. Anyhow, Sadie took me home and sewed up my leg- she’s a vet.”

 

“A muggle woman? How on earth did she carry you?”

 

“She’s a squib, actually. And she carried me over the back of Gandalf. Now there’s a big dog- he’s huge, even under all that long grey fur. Kept his eyes on me every moment, I can tell you. Didn’t trust me a whisker around Sadie.” Sirius smiled “Anyhow, she pas preparing to stitch me up and would have given me canine anesthetic if Gandalf hadn’t told her not to. I woke up to find myself on a scrubbed kitchen table, cushion under my head in the midst of a one-sided argument: he had his paw pinning her hand to her medical bag. I was so surprised, I changed. Heh, luckily she knew all about animaguses, otherwise she’d have thought she’d gone mad.”

 

“Is nothing conventional with you, Black” Severus asked wearily.

 

“Well, it was kind of conventional: frog prince meets little red riding hood.”

 

“Ha ha. I’m splitting my sides, Black. So she is a squib, of good family.”

 

“Yeah, it’s a light family, quite new but established enough for most Voldie supporters, if that’s what you mean. Bella would be mortified but she always thought squibs should be put down at birth…”

 

“And not even Voldemort agreed with that- the preservation of magical blood, etc.” Severus had finished. “So, out of curiosity, how did she react.”

 

“She looked at me, looked at the bottle in her hand and told Gandalf he was a good, clever boy. I tried to get up, the dog growled at me so I sat down again and, well, she got some general anesthetic and asked me if she could help me by sewing up my leg. I didn’t know my arse from my elbow so I just nodded and she sorted me out.” Black grinned “She thought I was on the run but innocent, otherwise Gandalf wouldn’t have let her near me, so she couldn’t tell anyone or take me to St Mungos.”

 

“I see, well, she sounds kind.”

 

“Yeah she is. It took me a couple of days to get my bearings and, in that time, she took care of me and I grew to like her.” Sirius drew a rather battered silver locket from his pocket and showed Severus a photograph of a woman in her late thirties with curly ginger hair, freckles and a large smile, which lit up her blue eyes.

 

“She looks… nice Black. Congratulations.”

 

“Thanks. Um, Gandalf will be coming too.”

 

“A responsible adult, perfect.”

 

Sirius had laughed “Possibly, yeah. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about names. I think Reggie would probably have chosen Orion- as I was disowned, Reg was technically the most senior Black and the heir of the most senior Black always has Orion somewhere in their name.”

 

“Tradition, where would we be without it.” Severus shook his head “And for the younger?”

 

“I don’t know. Esme did like Celtic names.”

 

“ Perhaps Cerin, it means little dark one.” Severus had suggested with a raised eyebrow. “Quite an apt name for the youngest Black.”

 

Sirius had agreed and, together, the young men had gone off to inform Dumbledore of their plans, leading them to the present moment- a moment of peace in a tumultuous day.

 

Severus replaced the pot of floo powder on the mantelpiece, considering that the delicate jade figurines- not to mention the tall silver candlesticks, would soon need to be permanently attached with a sticking charm. With tired dark eyes, Severus glanced around the room, noting books which should be placed on a higher shelf, sharp table corners which needed cushioning charms and the necessity of decorating and furnishing the two rooms which had budded off the corridor, at the far end of his bedroom, like new leaves on a stem. However…

 

Severus snapped his fingers and Hester appeared “Yes Mister Professor Potions Master Sir?”

 

“Hester, could you be so good as to arrange for a couple of your staff to childproof my quarters please, I know that you are very experienced, quite the expert in the field.”

 

Hester beamed “And the two bedrooms, would Sir like me to decorate those, we has lots of lovely children’s furniture in the attics: cots and little beds and high-chairs and changing tables and dear little rocking horses with glass eyeses.”

 

“That would be very kind of you, however perhaps one room could be a bedroom for the two boys and the other a play room?”

 

“Oh yes!” Hester said enthusiastically “And I also has little desks and books and crayons and teddy-bears. And a large dragon, all soft and leathery with a lovely growly thing in his tummy.” Hester’s eyes shone with happiness. “The little sirs will love him!”

 

Severus smiled “I will leave it entirely to your discretion.”

 

The young potions master sat back in his chair, enjoying his whiskey and listening to the happy, shrill whispers of the house-elves at work, accompanied, some ten minutes later, by the rusty growls of an old soft toy who had found a new home.