Albus calmly seated himself in the only other chair in the room, which was a worn paisley upholstered model. He crossed his legs, his robe was about an inch above his rainbow socks and his purple boots. His beard had been neatly combed and trimmed and his favorite moon and stars robe with the purple background sparkled. Harry eyed him thoughtfully, trying to determine if this was some kind of joke. But then he looked into the old wizard’s eyes.

In those eyes was no merriment, not even a smidgen. Those eyes were serious and sorrowful and full of understanding. In them he saw regret and pain and a resignation to his condition. For the first time Harry looked at the great wizard and saw past the façade of the merry old Headmaster. He saw a soul that had been torn apart and remade by sacrifice and pain, as his had been, as Severus’s had been, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a bond with the Headmaster. Like me, he has been forged in fire, and has come out from it forever changed.

“It’s really true, isn’t it?” Harry whispered. “Your magic is really gone.”

“I’m afraid so, my boy.”

“How is that possible, Albus?” Severus asked, eyeing the other wizard sharply. “You said you gave your magic up, but how could you do that? A wizard without magic dies.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “In a way, I did die that night, Severus. Before Lucius came for me to complete his dark ritual, I had been subjected to several spells that brought me to the brink of death, one was the Cruciatus and the other was a spell that stole away my magic. It was an ancient spell, and Lucius placed the magic he took from me into several containers, much the way you could place memories from a Pensieve into a vial. The stealing of my magic so weakened me that I was sure I was going to die then, but I did not. Instead, I found my way to a place called the Garden of Forever, where I met my younger sister Ariana and Lily as well. They told me that Voldemort could be thwarted but only if I was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. At the time I thought that was my life. I was willing to give it up if it meant our victory, for I would not have had all you had gone through be in vain. Lucius drew forth the last of my magic and I allowed him to do so, willingly. But after the ritual, as I lingered near death, I was sent back, and told that my sacrifice had been accepted, though not as I had thought. I had given up my magic and by doing so, I weakened Voldemort badly, for he had no comprehension of what it meant to give up everything to save a life or several lives. Such was a foreign concept to him, who valued himself over everything else.”

“Then that was why he couldn’t cast the Killing Curse.” Harry said.

“Yes. Part of his body had been shaped by my magic and the magic of sacrifice can not be used to kill.”

“But now that he’s dead . . .won’t your magic come back to you?” Harry asked hopefully.

Dumbledore shook his head. “No, Harry. What I gave, I gave willingly. It is done. The magic I have left is just enough to keep me alive, it is what most Muggles have within them but never know it, a tiny spark of the magic of creation.” He spread his hands. “Do not feel bad, Harry. This was the choice I made. It was not an easy one, but then nothing worth doing is ever easy. You have heard me say that before, but I never realized what that really meant until now.”

Harry cocked his head. “You mean because you never had to give up something you really wanted until now.”

“Exactly. You’re a bright boy, Harry.” Albus smiled.

“He is, when he bothers to use his head for something other than target practice,” said Severus pointedly, then he reached over and playfully mussed the fifteen-year-old’s hair.

“Hey! Quit that!” Harry tried to duck, but Severus was too quick. The long fingers ended up making his hair, which had always tended towards untidiness, stick up in all directions. “What’s the big idea, Sev?”

“Just making you look normal,” replied the professor, smirking.

Albus laughed, clearly delighted to see his two favorite students getting along so well. Then he became serious again. “You are correct, Harry. Do you remember that day before you left, when you scolded me, and rightly so, for manipulating people? You said I had used both you and Severus for my own ends and to my regret, you were absolutely right. I did not see that at the time, all I saw was my need to find people willing to stand up to Voldemort, to redeem me from my fatal mistake of trying to control a madman with a false prophecy. I used poor Sybill as well, and I regret that as deeply as I have ever regretted anything. She trusted me the way she did no one else, and I took that trust and made her my dupe. But in the end the joke was on me, for she prophecied true, and in so doing saved the world.

“When I was lying there in the stone cell, half-dead from the Cruciatus and the stealing of my magic, I realized at last that what I had done was wrong. I had convinced myself that everything I did—making you a hero, and Severus a spy—was for the greater good, because it was all done to destroy Voldemort. But what I failed to realize is that the ends do not justify the means. I used guilt and innocence to achieve those ends, and by doing so I took away your free will.”

“Albus I agreed to become a spy,” Severus began.

The old wizard held up a hand. “Yes, but I used your guilt over Lily’s death to convince you to do so. Think back, Severus. You were a frightened seventeen-year-old boy, who had rejected the most evil overlord in the magical world, and were distrusted by the majority of those you wished to fight alongside. I was the only thing standing between you and Azkaban, and I needed you desperately. And so I manipulated you into thinking a spy was all you were worthy of being. And it was not so, my boy. You had your whole life ahead of you, you could have been anything you wished, but I took the choice away. I made you see only one path and for that I am sorry. But for me you could have been Master of the Confederation of Potioneers, but for me you would have never experienced the horror of the Cruciatus Curse and been forced to watch innocents die. I never knew . . .until Lucius had me in his power, just what it was to endure such pain. I thought I knew, but I was wrong. I knew nothing. And to think . . .I sent you back to that many times . . .I do not think I shall ever forgive myself . . .”

His voice broke then and he took a yellow handkerchief the color of lemondrops from his pocket and wiped his eyes.

“Albus, I knew what I was getting into, never doubt that,” Severus began. “There was no one else who could have been what I was and survived for all those years. That was my sacrifice.”

The old wizard shook his head, sniffling. “That still does not absolve me of my responsibility. Ignorance is no excuse. You are a braver man than I, Severus Snape. Far more than I. You and Harry both. You knew what sacrifice was long before I, despite my years. All I knew was the idea of sacrifice and how to make others do my bidding. I never understood true suffering and helplessness until Lucius and the stone cell. But now I do. And that is why I will say, with complete honesty, that you and Harry are greater wizards by far than I. For you endured the worst life could throw at you and you came away wiser and better for it.”

“I had help,” Severus argued. “Hagrid helped me. If not for him, I would have been lost to despair and ended my life at sixteen.”

Harry gasped, for he had never known that particular event of Severus’s past. “You actually thought about . . .killing yourself?”

Severus nodded. “Not thought, I nearly did. Hagrid found me though and nursed me back to health and gave me something to live for. I owe him more than I can ever repay.”

“And to my shame, I never knew of it until recently. He never spoke of it to me.” Albus said softly.

“Because I asked him to keep his silence,” Severus replied evenly.

Harry’s head was spinning. He had never though of his indomitable mentor as being so depressed as to think about ending it all. As he had been that long ago night, when he had sought for a way out of his miserable life and had become a hawk. “I had help too, sir,” he reminded the Headmaster. “Sev helped me. I was drowning inside and he helped me see that my life could be worth something, that someone cared for me. Neither of us did it alone.”

Just then, his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had had nothing to eat for . . .weeks? He turned pleading eyes upon his guardian. “Severus, I’m starving.”

“So I hear. What would you like to eat?”

“Uh . . .how about some soup? Chicken noodle and maybe a sandwich?”

Severus nodded. “A good choice, considering you’ve been on Nutrient Potions all this time. Your stomach should be able to tolerate that.” He waved his wand and the food Harry had requested came up on a tray, which he floated over to the boy.

Harry sat up and began to eat, he was ravenous, but careful to eat slowly, otherwise he knew he would end up puking. But even the small bowl of soup and the bread and butter sandwich was nearly too much for him. He ate till he was full and something was still left upon the tray when he was done. “Sev, I can’t eat anymore. I’m sorry for wasting food.”

“That’s understandable, Harry. Your stomach has shrunk and needs time to adjust to regular portions again. Don’t force yourself to finish, you’ll only end up making yourself sick. And don’t worry about wasting food either, it is not necessary to finish everything on your plate, I am not your pinchpenny uncle, to complain over a few spoonfuls of soup and crusts of bread.”

And with that, Severus banished the tray and gave Harry some chamomile tea to sip, saying it would help relieve him of any gas or bloating and digest his meal.

Harry blushed, but drank the tea, knowing this was one battle he would not win, so better to not even start one. When it came to his health, Severus was like a nesting mother dragon.

Albus chuckled at the exchange. “It would seem, Severus, that you take to parenting quite well.”

Severus snorted. “If by well you mean that I have learned how to get one stubborn fledgling to obey me for his own good, then I suppose you’re right.”

“Ah, Severus. You see, you are not the grouchy curmudgeon you have always pretended.”

“Not always,” Harry said, and earned himself a sharp look from his guardian.

Albus smiled. “Well, at least one good thing came of my meddling. You two are finally a family. I had always hoped that someday that might happen.” He sniffled again and wiped a tear from his eye.

“Oh, don’t go all maudlin on me now, Albus,” groaned the Potions Master. “Mr. Potter has always been in need of a guardian to keep him in line.”

“Yeah, and you’ve always been in need of someone to protect and to love, admit it.”

“Drive me insane.” Severus countered.

“That too,” his ward laughed. “But just think how boring it would be if I didn’t get into trouble.”

“You incorrigible brat, all I’ve longed for since the day you set foot in Hogwarts is some peace and quiet.”

“I’m not real good at that.”

“Obviously.”

“But I’ll try.”

Severus’s mouth quirked. “Then that will have to do.”

They truly do belong together, the Headmaster thought smugly, then he chided himself for being so prideful. “I would like to apologize for everything I have done and I hope that someday you can forgive me. I will try to do better this time around. I think this is my second chance and I will try not to mess it up.”

He gave both wizards a pleading glance.

“You certainly couldn’t do any worse,” Severus said suddenly, then he shook his head. “Forgive me, I should not have said that.”

“Why? It is the truth.”

“I, of all people, know how important getting a second chance is, I should not mock you for your efforts.” He drew in a deep breath, astonished that he was about to speak such words, for he had never given up grudges easily. “Let the past remain in the past, Albus. The man you were has died, and now you have been, in a way, reborn. You have atoned for your mistakes and I . . .forgive you.” He held out a hand.

Albus took it and pressed it to his cheek, weeping. “Thank you, Severus.”

Severus sighed and muttered something that sounded like, “God save me from overemotional Gryffindors.” Then he handed Albus another handkerchief. “Harry, say you forgive him now, that way he can get all of the tears out of his system all at once. I don’t want to be here all night.”

“I forgive you, sir.” Harry said sincerely, restraining a grin. For Severus was now patting the Headmaster on the shoulder, despite his gruff tone. Ha! You might act all tough and hard, but inside you’re a teddy bear, Sev. And thank God you can’t read my mind, I think I’d be digging my own grave.

“Here now, sir, there is no need to . . .” Severus began, for the old man was crying harder now. “Oh, for the love of Merlin . . .!” He put his arm about the older wizard, looking very put upon, but he didn’t pull away when Albus turned and cried into his robe. After a moment, he began a kind of rhythmic patting, which Harry recalled was very soothing, and allowed the remorseful wizard to cry himself out.

Harry turned away, feeling awkward, but he could not escape the room, since he was too weak to walk very far. So he pretended to be very interested in the ceiling, which had soothing pictures of clouds and a blue sky enchanted onto it, waiting for the older wizard to regain his composure.

After many long minutes Albus did, and then he thanked Severus and Harry again until the Potions Master growled to not mention it.

Albus looked at Harry and winked. Harry bit back a laugh. It appeared that Albus knew as well as he did what kind of man Severus Snape really was.

“Sir, what will you do now?” Harry asked, for that was a question that had been nagging him ever since Dumbledore had revealed he was magicless. “I mean, can you still be Headmaster without magic?”

“No, Harry. I will have to find a successor. The Headmaster of Hogwarts must always be a wizard, and I am that no longer. Matter of fact I’m no longer sure just what I am. Ah well, I suppose one day someone will come up with a name for me.” Dumbledore shrugged. “In any case, I will have to choose someone else to run Hogwarts.”

“Why not Minerva?” Severus queried.

“Minerva has stated that she wishes to retire. I can’t say I blame her. Fear not, I will come up with a new Headmaster candidate before I fade into obscurity.”

Severus snorted. “You, Albus? I don’t think so.”

“Why not? It would be a novelty, to be an ordinary man for once. I would like to sit at home and read my many books I never had time to read before. And to write my memoirs and perhaps a few spellbooks I’ve been meaning to get around to. I confess, it will be difficult at first for me to manage without my magic, but I shall adjust.”

“We can help you, sir,” Harry volunteered. “Sev and I can show you how to live without magic.”

“Good. I fear I shall be needing your advice,” laughed Dumbledore.

“It’s really not too bad. Just different.”

“That’s all right. You learn something new everyday.”

“Where will you live?” asked Harry, for he had never seen Dumbledore live anywhere except Hogwarts.

“Oh, I have a small manor tucked away in the hills,” the old wizard said slyly. “I inherited it from my parents and it and the village nearby will do nicely for me to begin my new life. I shan’t be bored, for I have no doubt plenty of interviews with the press and such and I will, of course, be on hand if anyone needs my advice.” There was a slight twinkle in the blue eyes now. “But no more meddling, no more causes for the greater good. That I leave to others now. I am done with doing, now I go home. Where I shall be quite content. Once I settle a few things here, that is.”

Harry nodded, thinking how much different all their lives would be now that there was no more war. It was a relief and at the same time it made him uneasy, because Voldemort’s shadow had consumed so much of his life, that now it felt strange to no longer be looking over his shoulder and worried that he might be killed somehow. There was no need for him to hurry up and get well because a megalomaniac was after him. He could just be normal. Except . . .he wasn’t sure what normal was anymore.

He still had things to settle too, he recalled. He had to speak with Fudge about the wolfen and also the Witherspoons, so Jasper could get the patent and recognition he deserved for his amulets and the wolfen could be free of the Forest of the Night at last. He knew it was going to take some work to convince Fudge to unbend, but Harry hoped his status as a hero would help sway the hidebound wizard’s mind. And he knew Severus would back him. Dumbledore too, once he explained about what the wolfen had done for them.

Suddenly he felt an uncomfortable urge to use the bathroom, which was just across the room. He carefully sat up and wriggled over to the edge of the bed. But when he attempted to stand up, he felt woozy and his legs threatened to fold up under him like a day old foal’s.

Severus glanced over at him and asked, “Harry, where do you think you’re going?”

“I . . .need to use the bathroom,” he said, trying to push himself upright.

“Stop.” His guardian ordered, coming over and wrapping an arm about him. “You’re very weak from lying in a bed for two weeks and the Cruciatus might have damaged some of your muscles.”

“Is that why I can barely stand?”

“Yes. Let me help you.” Severus said. Then, before the boy could protest, he lifted him easily into his arms and walked the five steps to the bathroom. He would have carried Harry inside, but Harry insisted he could walk from there.

“Sev, I can hang onto the counter. I’ll be fine.” He insisted.

Severus set him down and Harry managed, through sheer stubbornness, to take a few steps into the bathroom. The lights came on immediately and Harry grasped the counter with a hand to steady himself and then the door shut.

Harry felt his knees start to buckle, but he refused to give in. He managed to reach the toilet and leaned upon the wall, his head was swimming and he felt as tired as if he had run up all the stairs of Hogwarts at once. Just need some time to catch my breath and then I’ll be fine.

No sooner had he thought that then he felt a sensation like warm hands gripping his waist and holding him upright.

Huh? What the HELL? He tried to jerk away from the invisible hands, but he couldn’t get enough leverage.

The next thing he knew, ghostly fingers were plucking at his pajama bottoms and lowering them.

* * * * * *

“Do you have house elves at the manor?” asked Severus. “Because if not, I could show you how to cook a few simple dishes for yourself. You cannot exist on sweets alone, you know, you’ll make yourself ill—”

“Have no fear, Severus, I have two house elves living at Bumblebee Ridge, and they will make sure I eat properly, they have known me all my life and are wise to all of my tricks, unfortunately,” the old man sighed. “I was never able to pull one over on them when I was a boy and I doubt if I could—”

There came a loud thump from the bathroom and then they heard Harry yelling, panicked, “Get off of me, whatever the hell you are! Let go! Leave me alone! Sev, help! The bathroom . . .it’s attacking me! It’s under a curse!”

Severus was on his feet immediately. “What in Merlin’s name?”

“Severus, the aid charms are put in every bathroom in St. Mungos,” Albus reminded him. “Harry didn’t know that, and we forgot to warn him—”

Severus was already striding over to the bathroom, where more thumps could be heard.

“No! Give them back! Sev, the damn bathroom is stealing my pajamas!”

Severus opened the door to see Harry sprawled in an undignified heap on the floor against the wall, his eyes wild, kicking at some invisible force frantically. His pajama bottoms were about his ankles and he was clinging grimly to the waistband of his underwear, wrestling with the unseen hands that sought to remove them. He was red-faced and gasping.

“Get off! You can't have them, you bloody ghost! Severus, help!”

“Harry, calm down,” Severus ordered. “The bathroom in the hosipital is charmed to aid you with things like dressing and undressing yourself and sitting and standing if you need it.”

“I don’t! I don’t need help!” yelped the teen. “Sev, it tried to . . .to take my . . .my pants down! Like I was some kind of sodding baby or something.”

“Harry, the aid charms respond to your physical capabilities, so it would not have reacted that way if you didn’t need assistance,” Severus explained patiently. “Had you not fought the charms, you wouldn’t have ended up like this. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine!” his ward insisted stubbornly. “I just got a little dizzy.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “More than a little, if the charms responded.” He peered at the boy. Harry was pouting and scowling, glaring at Severus as if it were somehow his fault. He reminded Snape of a cross five-year-old, and the image was curiously endearing. “Here, let me help you up.”

“I can get up myself,” the boy cried. “I don’t need charms or anything. You could have warned me.”

“I forgot the charms are automatically placed upon all the patient bathrooms,” Severus replied. “Quit being stubborn.”

Ignoring the flushed cheeks and stammering, Severus hauled Harry up, and half-carried him over to the toilet. Harry tried to bat away his hands, but Severus did not let go. “If you don’t wish the charms to help you, then I shall.”

“No!” Harry cried, his face scarlet. “I can take my own damn pants off!”

Severus steadied him while he did so, helped him sit down, then left , calling over his shoulder, “Let me know when you’re finished, so I can bring you back to bed.”

“I’ll get back there myself!” came the softly snarled response.

Severus smothered a chuckle as he shut the door.

Albus looked up. “My, sounded like some battle was being fought in there.”

“Over a pair of pants,” Severus remarked, his black eyes gleaming.

“Oh, dear,” was all Albus said, then he couldn’t contain himself and began laughing softly. After a moment, Snape joined him.

A few moments later, a rather disgruntled Harry stood leaning in the doorway. “Yeah, it’s real funny.”

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry, but . . .you see, the same thing happened to me yesterday when I tried to use the loo,” Dumbledore said, still chuckling. “At first I was quite . . .disconcerted, but the charms are there for your own good, my boy. And fighting them only makes it worse. I should have remembered them and told you before . . . Were you hurt?”

Harry shook his head. His backside was a little sore but he was otherwise okay.

Severus helped him back to bed.

“I’m never staying at this damn hospital again,” Harry grumbled balefully. “I’d rather recover at home.”

“Ah, now you truly sound like Severus’s son, my boy,” Albus grinned. “He, too, prefers his own quarters to recover in.”

“I can see why,” retorted Harry. “Stupid bathroom!”

“Lie back and let me take your temperature,” Severus began. “I think you became dizzy from trying to get up too soon . . .”

“I don’t need you fussing over me—” Harry snapped, he was still embarrassed, though had he stopped to think about it, he would have been laughing over how ridiculous he must have looked, fighting with an invisible presence.

Severus frowned in warning. “Mind your attitude, fledgling.”

Before he could take a diagnostic, the door to the room opened and in walked Healer Sandrilas. “Severus, I’ve come to spell you, so you can get some sleep. Why, Mr. Potter, you’re awake! How wonderful. Let’s see how you’re doing.”

He waved his wand and cast a diagnostic. “Hmm, well you’re restored magically from your ordeal, but your muscles are still weak and need rest in order to recover. I’m going to put you on a potions regimen to strengthen those muscles, until then you are to remain in bed.”

“For how long?” Harry cried, dismayed.

“Three days.”

“Three days?” he cried. “Can’t you just . . .I don’t know . . .fix me with a spell?”

Healer Sandrilas sighed. “Mr. Potter, a spell will not cure you, your muscles have been stressed and injured from the Cruciatus and need time to recover naturally. I can give you potions for pain and to strengthen those muscles, but it’s best to take it slowly. You’ve been through quite an ordeal, lad, there’s no need to rush things.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, “I hate being sick.”

“So does mostly everyone I know,” Healer Sandrilas said, amused. “Good thing too, else there’d be more patients than we could deal with.” He waved his wand and three vials popped up on Harry’s night stand. “You may start with these. Drink them all.”

Harry obeyed, hoping the potions worked better than Sandrilas said. They all tasted foul, and he gulped down a glass of water afterwards.

The Healer stared at him, then said, rather tartly, “You remind me a bit of your godfather, young man.”

“I do?” Harry sounded pleased.

“Yes, he too was a sulky pain when it came to obeying his Healer’s orders. Much like another patient I could name,” Sandrilas swung about to face Albus. “I would think you’re old enough to know that patients shouldn’t just leave their rooms whenever they feel like it to wander about and socialize, Mr. Dumbledore. My aide Alicia nearly had heart failure when she found you were missing.”

Albus looked as guilty as a schoolboy who had copied another’s homework and then lied about it. “Oh, well, I only meant to stay for a bit, Alec . . .I needed to speak to Severus and check on Harry . . .I never meant to worry anyone . . .”

Sandrilas just rolled his eyes. “Maybe we never ought to have done away with the Sticking Charms . . .then patients would stay where they belonged instead of hopping merrily from room to room . . .” He leveled a stern finger at Albus and waved his wand, casting another diagnostic. “Headmaster, you may feel better than you did two days ago, but you are by no means recovered from what those monsters did to you. You need plenty of rest, you are lucky you didn’t trigger a relapse by walking about too soon. You and Mr. Potter are two of a kind.”

“Perhaps you may save us all some aggravation and put them in the same room together?” Snape suggested. “Then you would be able to keep an eye on them both at the same time.”

Healer Sandrilas looked at Snape as if he were a genius. “Severus, that’s brilliant! I shall have my orderly bring in an extra bed immediately and inform my staff. Thank you for saving my sanity.”

“You’re welcome, Alec,” Severus said quietly. He turned and looked at Harry. “I trust you’ll behave yourself while I go and fetch myself some dinner? Or must I Stick you to the bed?”

“Actually, I was planning on tying the sheets together and climbing out the window,” Harry said cheekily.

“Take a nap, Potter,” Severus ordered gruffly. “You’re cranky.”

Then he strode out of the room before Harry could respond. “Blast and damn!” he growled. “Why does he always have to have the last word?”

“He wouldn’t be Severus if he didn’t, Harry,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with their old fervor. “He means well, child.”

“And he is right. You’re exhausted, Harry.” Sandrilas put in. “Close your eyes and go to sleep. Would you like a Sleeping Draught?”

“No, sir.” Harry said, trying not to grumble. In spite of himself, he found his eyes were shutting and before he knew it, he was asleep.

Healer Sandrilas spoke into a mirror, and very soon a bed and the rest of Albus’ clothing and personal effects had been moved into Harry’s room and the notation upon his chart had been changed. When all was ready, the Healer gestured to the old wizard to lie down and Albus obeyed. He too was exhausted, emotionally and physically.

By the time Severus returned, both Gryffindors were sound asleep. Healer Sandrilas was sitting in the chair, watching his two wayward patients. “What did you do, give them both a Sleeping Draught?”

“No. They’re worn out. They should sleep through the night. Tomorrow is another story. Gryffindors! They’ve got a Spartan complex, always have to play the hero, even when they’re sick.”

“What House were you in? Slytherin?”

“No, I was a Ravenclaw. Smart enough to know to follow a Healer’s orders if necessary.” Sandrilas replied. “Good night, Severus. I’ll see you tomorrow on rounds.”

Then he departed, leaving Severus to read a novel he had picked up in the hospital gift shop.

He knew that Harry would be all right in time, the boy had a remarkably capacity to bounce back from trauma. And Albus too would mend, if on a different level. Tomorrow, he needed to speak with Harry about an urgent matter, one that he hoped would set the boy’s mind at ease for good and all about being worthy to belong somewhere.

He approached the boy’s bedside on cat’s feet, gently stroking the hair from Harry’s forehead and removing his glasses before tucking the covers more securely about the sleeping teenager. Above him, Hedwig stirred, but did not wake. Three days of nonstop flying across continents had worn her out to a sliver and she slept on. You’ll have a pleasant surprise when you wake, Hedwig.

Severus caressed her feathers briefly before returning to his chair and his book. Soon the only sounds in the room were hushed breathing, Albus snoring, and the pages of a book being turned.