Hogwarts infirmary:

Harry stared at Sandra uncomprehending for a long moment, he was still exhausted and sleepy, but the sight of her silently crying caused his gut to seize up and fear to come circling like a shark on the hunt about him. "What's wrong? Why are you crying, Mum?"

"I . . .I can't explain it now," Sandra sniffled, hastily wiping her eyes. She was almost certain something terrible had happened to Augustus, but wasn't entirely sure her premonition was correct and she didn't want to upset Harry over nothing. "I'm just . . .I had a bad dream just before I woke and I'm a little . . .emotional right now." She hugged him. "You'll have to forgive me, Harry. I'm still upset from your being so badly hurt.  Would you like a drink before you go back to sleep?"

He nodded. "Yes, please." Thinking of water made him aware that he needed to use the bathroom and he started to get out of bed. "Excuse me, I have to use the loo."

"Oh, sorry, am I in your way?" she moved so he could get out of bed.

He walked a bit slowly and stiffly into the bathroom which was right next to his bed.

Afterwards, he returned to his bed, feeling even more drained and exhausted. Sandra had a cup of ice water for him to sip and then he yawned.

"Do you need more potions, sweetie?" she asked solicitously. "Does your hand hurt?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I think I'll just . . ." He closed his eyes and soon fell back to sleep.

Sandra remained at his bedside for a minute, rearranging his covers and smoothing his tousled hair. She prayed that what she feared had not come to pass, for the child would be devastated by his grandfather's loss. 

She returned to her own bed and crawled in it, huddling beneath the covers and trembling, tears streaking her face again, like a child afraid of the dark. She recalled again Severus' face, stricken and white, as if he'd just gotten stabbed with a knife in the heart. Please no. Please. Anything but that. She snuggled in the empty bed and hoped Severus would return soon and bring good news with him, though she feared the worst.

Severus returned some two hours later, and Sandra immediately woke when he shook her shoulder. She could tell in an instant that the news was not good. "Sev, what happened? Is it Augustus?"

He nodded heavily. Then he told her very quietly what had happened.

"Oh, Sev! I can't believe . . .oh, Merlin . . .valiant unto the last . . ." Her voice broke then and she wept.

Severus quickly Transfigured his clothes back into sleepwear and gathered his wife in his arms. "I still can't believe he's gone . . .even with the ring . . .even though I felt him die . . .I can't . . .I don't even know how I'm going to explain it to Harry . . ."

"Let it wait till we get home, love," she whispered through her tears. "Poor gallant old man!"

They lay upon the bed together, their tears mingling upon the pillow, mourning the loss of one who had given up his life so that others could be free of Voldemort's shadow forever. But at last they allowed sleep's gentle solace to claim them, and slept with their cheeks pressed against a tear-drenched pillow.

* * * * * *

Foxfire Hall

June 21, 1992:

Harry awoke suddenly. He had been dreaming that Voldemort was chasing him and was just about to catch him and kill him when Augustus stepped into his path and prevented the evil wizard from harming him. He woke up before he could see what sort of spell his grandpa had used against the Dark Lord, and as he sat up and looked about, he noticed he was no longer at Hogwarts, but back in his own room at Foxfire Hall. 

He glanced about in relief at the familiar walls with Quidditch posters and rows of books and sighed happily. He was home, where he belonged. He saw Calin curled up by his feet, purring in her sleep and he nudged her with a toe but she didn't wake. "Lazy kitty," he chuckled. 

Hedwig was on her perch by the window, also sleeping soundly. He looked at the clock next to his bed and saw it was around ten AM.  Before he could stick so much as a toe out of bed, Lina popped into the room.

"Oh, Master Harry, you're awake!"

"Hey, Lina." Harry gave her a smile.

"How do you feel? Are you better?" she gave him a look of concern and worry.

"I feel better than I did yesterday. Who brought me back here?"

"Your papa and mama did," the elf answered promptly. "Hotspur and I were so worried for you.  We simply couldn't bear it if something happened to you like-" she halted abruptly, then said, "Let me go and tell Master Severus that you're awake. He was wishing to speak with you."

Before Harry could ask her anything else, she had vanished.

A few moments later, both Severus and Sandra entered the room.  Harry looked at them, wondering why both looked as if they'd been wrestling with demons all night. There were dark circles under Severus' eyes and Sandra's were red and puffy.  Both were pale and Harry began to feel apprehensive. Something had happened and he felt instinctively that it was something terrible. 

"Harry, hun, how are you feeling?" Sandra asked, beating Severus to the punch. She walked over and felt the boy's forehead. It was cool. 

"Okay, I guess.  Just tired and my hand and wrist itches." He told her, only now becoming aware of that little detail.

"Why don't we put some Burn Salve on that, son?" suggested Severus, taking a seat on Harry's left side. 

Sandra sat down on his right. "Here, Sev," she said, Summoning the salve with a wandless incantation. "Don't forget to Unstick the banadages."

"I know," he replied softly, taking Harry's arm and laying it on his lap. "Hold still, please."

Harry obeyed, anxious to get the salve on so the dreadful itching would stop.

Severus reapplied the salve and re-bandaged his son's hand and wrist before setting the salve aside.  Harry's hand and wrist were finally healing. That was the one bright spot in what he knew was going to be an awful day. He cleared his throat, unsure of how to break the news. In the end he decided to just say it straight out.

"Son, your grandfather . . .passed away last night."

It took a moment for Harry to comprehend what Severus had just said. "Passed away . . .?" he repeated dully. "You mean he . . ." his throat closed up then and he found himself unable to say the word. Slowly, he shook his head. "But . . .no, that's not . . .how did . . .you said he wasn't sick!" he finally managed a coherent sentence. He felt as if a dragon had stomped upon his chest.

Sandra put her arm about him. "He wasn't, Harry. He . . .died in battle."

"In battle? I don't understand."

"He died fighting Voldemort, Harry." Severus told him gently.

"But Voldemort ran away! I heard Dumbledore say so. He was dying."

"He was. Your grandfather knew, though, that even if he let Quirrell's body die, he might still return someday, in a different body, stronger than before. So he . . ." Severus coughed, struggling to keep his voice even. He had to be strong for his son.  " . . .he lured Voldemort here, because an Elemental Master is strongest upon his home ground.  He lowered the wards so Voldemort could enter and then he confronted him. He used an Elemental Master's Final Strike to destroy the Dark Lord."

Harry stared up at him, his green eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "But Final Strike kills you and your opponent," he murmured, recalling Augustus' lessons in Defense last year.

"I know. But it was the only way to defeat a Body Snatcher for good. He knew the cost, son.  And he . . .he chose to sacrifice himself for us. So that Voldemort would die the final death and never rise again."

"NO!" Harry wailed.  "He wouldn't do that! He wouldn't!"

"Oh, Harry." Severus went to hug him, but Harry jerked away, pulling free of Sandra's embrace as well.

"No! He can't be dead! He just can't!" he screamed, scrambling off the bed and running from the room.

Augustus was alive somewhere in the manor. He just had to be. He ran through the hall, opening the door to Augustus' bedroom.

It was empty, the bed neatly made, the room cleaned.

He whirled and ran down the hall to the study and flung open the door so hard it bounced against the wall.  "Grandpa! Where are you?" he called desperately, but Augustus was not there.

Frantic, he raced down the stairs, ignoring Severus and Sandra calling him.

He nearly banged into Hotspur, who looked uncharacteristically listless, his livery replaced with a black tunic and trews. "Hotspur, where's my grandpa?"

The elf looked at him sadly. "Master Harry, he is gone from this hall. The Green Man has called him home, to dwell forever in the earth's embrace."

Harry trembled. "No! You're lying!"

"I wish I was, young master. But I speak the truth. He is with Mistress Drusilla and Lady Grace and Lady Eileen now." Two huge tears splashed down his face. "Foxfire Hall will never be the same."

Harry swallowed hard. He had never seen Hotspur cry ever. The elf had always been as unflappable as his master. He looked about and saw that there were black crepe streamers wound about the banister and a large black wreath of roses upon the doors. He knew the custom. 

Augustus is dead. Your grandfather is dead because of Voldemort. He died to save you. It's all your fault. The awful realization slammed into him like a rogue Bludger. The thing he had feared most had finally come to pass. His grandfather had died because he was Harry Potter.

"My fault!" he gasped, tears glittering in his eyes. "He died because of me!"

Hotspur stared at him in horror. "No, Master Harry, you mustn't say such things! That's not so. Listen-"

But Harry was gone, running out the doors and onto the lawn, to where he did not know, only that he had to get away, away from his guilt, away from the sorrow that was about to drown him. 

He ran through the orchard, the orchard that Grace had grown from small pits, the orchard that he used to walk through with Augustus, and where he had learned the names of all the trees and how the fruits were used, what were good to eat and what were used in potions.   "Pay attention, Henry, this is important if you ever have to gather bark from an ash tree or acorns from an oak . . ."

Augustus' voice echoed in his head, the voice he would never hear again, and he stubbed his toe on a tree root and went sprawling, banging his injured hand against the hard ground.

He cried out, pain lancing through his arm, and he clutched his hand to him, rolling over on his back and sobbing like a baby.

* * * * * *

 Severus and Sandra reached the bottom of the staircase and looked around for their son.  He was nowhere in sight. "Damn!" the new master of Foxfire Hall swore. He had expected Harry to take the news hard, but never anything like this. "Now where could he have gone?"

"Milord Prince," Hotspur popped into view. "Master Harry has run outside. He was very upset, sir, he blames himself for Lord Augustus's death. I did not follow thinking he wished to be alone. Forgive me, milord."

Severus waved off the elf's apology. "You did nothing wrong, Hotspur." Damn, this was what I was afraid of!

Sandra frowned worriedly. The grounds were very large and it would be easy for a boy to get lost on them, and it had happened once before. She whistled for Magnus.

When the big wolf-dog appeared, he had been napping in the conservatory, she said to him, "We need your help, old fellow. Find Harry, Magnus. Find him for me."

The wolf-dog barked and wagged his tail to show he understood.

Then he cast about for Harry's scent, and upon detecting it, bolted out the door Hotspur held ajar for him.

Within minutes, Magnus had raced out of sight.

Sandra followed and after a moment, so did Severus. "He'll bark when he finds him," she explained as they made their way in the general direction dog and boy had gone.

Soon a loud bark sounded and they ran toward the orchard.

They found Harry curled up with his arms about the shaggy dog, bawling into his fur. Magnus was whining gently and licking Harry's face. Above them, Valeska was perched, making soft little clicking crooning noises, such as she would have done for an upset fledgling. 

Sandra motioned for Magnus to stay with Harry, for the dog spotted her and was about to get up. Then she said quietly, "Maybe it's best if you talk to him alone, Sev.  I'll be inside, writing a notice to the Daily Prophet for an obituary and maybe someone can write a tribute piece as well.  I'm going to miss him so much. I'm so sorry, love."

He hugged her hard. "Thank you," he whispered, for having her there to talk to and comfort him, even if it was in private, made it all so much easier. "I'll try and see if I can calm him down." He patted the pocket of his black bordered day robe, it contained both the letter Augustus had written that night and also a vial of Calming Draught.

She kissed his cheek gently before departing.

Severus walked silently to sit down beside his son, resting his arms across his knees.  "Mind if I join you?"

Harry shook his head, his face still buried in Magnus' thick fur.

"Hotspur tells me you think it's your fault Grandpa died," Severus began thickly, for even to say the man's name hurt.

"It is my fault!" Harry mumbled. "You know it is!"

Severus reached out a hand and pulled Harry upright. "Look at me, please, so I can understand what you're saying." He took out a handkerchief from his other pocket and wiped Harry's face.  "Blow." He waited till his son had obeyed before vanishing the handkerchief and handing Harry a clean one to hold.  "All right. Suppose you tell me why it's your fault?"

Harry gave him an incredulous glare. "You know why, Papa!" His hands clenched upon Magnus' fur involuntarily. The big dog sighed and stretched out across Harry's knees, effectively pinning the boy in place. Magnus was over a hundred pounds and there was no way Harry was going to be able to move without a fight. But the boy didn't even notice.  "You know why," he continued.  "It's because I'm Harry Potter that this happened. Voldemort came after me.  Grandpa only got involved because of me.  If I had died down there-"

"Don't you dare tell me you wished you had died!" Severus interrupted, his voice gone harsh.  "Don't you ever wish that! Your death doesn't cancel out his, by Merlin's bones! Your life is a gift, never say you wish to throw it away! Understand?" He took Harry by the shoulder and shook him once, hard. "Your grandfather would be ashamed to hear you value yourself so little."

"But . . .I'm the reason he died!" Harry sobbed.

Severus shook his head. "No.  You don't understand." He put his arm about the stricken child and drew him down on his shoulder.  "Listen to me. Can you do that? Cry all you like, but listen.  Grandpa . . .he would have fought Voldemort regardless if it were you in danger or someone else.  He was an Auror, he fought against dark wizards all his life. How many times did you hear him say that it was the job of any wizard trained in the arts of war to fight evil wherever he found it?"

"He . . .he said that every Defense lesson," Harry sniffled. 

"Yes.  And how many times did he say that it was a warrior's duty to protect the helpless? Just as much, right? What is the Prince family motto?"

"It's . . .To Rule with Justice and to Protect Those in Need."

"Yes. And that is what he did, Harry. Not just for you, but for all of us."

"But Voldemort came back from the dead for me," Harry insisted.

"Child, you are a stubborn hardheaded-Voldemort had come back for himself, to try and dominate the world, because he wanted to cheat death and rule as he saw fit.  He didn't even know you were alive until now. I wish I knew how he found out because I'd skewer whoever told him . . ."

"It was Lucius Malfoy. Voldemort said Lucius took a Memory Restorative and then he remembered I was Harry Potter and he went and told him."

"I should have known. Bloody Malfoy!" Severus swore. "But I'll deal with him later. As I was saying, Voldemort came back for his own reasons, not just because of you, son.  Don't try and take the blame for others' actions. I've told you that once before, remember? After you ran away in the snowstorm?" He felt the boy nod against his shoulder. "Your grandfather knew you too well, Henry Snape. He . . .wrote me a letter before he faced Voldemort.  I'm going to read it to you so you can understand why he did what he did." He cleared his throat again and began to read Augustus' last farewell. 

When he finished, he looked at Harry and said, "Do you see now that he made a choice? He wasn't forced into it.  He did it because he was the only one who could stop Voldemort once and for all, and to make the world safe for you and me and our children."

"But I never asked him to. It's not fair!" Harry burst out.

"No, it's not.  And had there been another way for him to defeat Voldemort in a timely manner, he would have found it," Severus said quietly. "He did not do this in order to make himself a martyr, son. But he did do it out of duty and love.  He says so himself." He handed Harry the letter to see.

Harry squinted, his glasses were all smudged. He rubbed them on his shirttail.  Then he read what Augustus had written. It helped some, but he still felt guilty. By the time he had finished he was crying again. It was worse than when he had lost his parents as a baby, because he couldn't remember them, and what you can't remember, you can't grieve over. But losing Augustus . . .left a huge empty hole within him. 

There had been so much he had wanted the other wizard to teach him, so much he wanted to tell him too, about winning the Quidditch Cup, and other things, and now that could never be. 

"I hate Voldemort! He bloody ruined my life!" he cried passionately.

"Yes. He ruined all our lives. But now he's gone and you'll never have to worry about him returning to plague you or your descendants, Harry. For that, we must honor your great-grandfather, and go on with our lives."

"How? How can I do that when I . . .I miss him so much?"

"It's hard. I miss him too. But remember, touch the earth and he will be with you.  His magic returned here, to the land he lived and died on. And a part of him still remains." He gently pressed Harry's hand to the earth beside him.

"I don't feel anything."

"You're too upset to hear it right now, but come out and sit beneath a tree later and see if you don't feel his echo in the wind and his presence in the soil. And his portrait hangs in the study. You might visit it sometime and speak with him."

"But it's not like the real him."

"Not exactly, but his memories and a bit of his personality are infused in that painting, so he can still offer you advice if you want. I . . .I spoke to it this morning."

"Did it help?"

"A little.  Harry, this will take a long time for you to get over, and for me as well. It's a dreadful thing to lose someone you love, and even though I've been down this road before, it doesn't get any easier the second time.  It still hurts like bloody hell. But the important thing to remember is that your grandfather chose his own death and you are not to feel guilty or blame yourself over it.  You'll miss him every day for the rest of your life, and so will I. But at least you got a chance to know him and if you remember him, he will never really die."

"Okay. I'll . . .I'll try." Harry whispered tremulously.

Then he clung to his father and wept bitterly.

Severus held him close and rocked him and he wept also, wishing he had had more time for Augustus to teach him how to be the ruler of a great estate for he feared he was inadequate and he would never be able to measure up to the example Augustus had left him. And he had so wanted Augustus to see his first great-grandchild get born. He had also hoped to have the older wizard to lean on when Harry became a teenager, but now he would have to manage without him. And so I am fatherless twice, though the first one I could give a damn about. Harry's right. It's not fair. But then, nothing in our lives has ever been fair. 

They remained there in the orchard for a very long time, watering the roots and grass with salt, until they were wrung dry of tears, and then they slept.

* * * * * *

 Over the next two days, Severus was very busy making the arrangements for the memorial service he wished to have at the manor, and trying to oversee an important project at Prince Labs he had been working on before all of this happened. He had managed to pass on most of the responsibility for the research temporarily to Marco and Annamaria, but he was too much of a perfectionist to not double check things, and so he went from home to work and back.  Then too, he was still grieving himself and worried about Harry.

Harry had become like a shadow even after their talk beneath the oak tree, he never smiled and Severus had to force him to eat, he barely picked at his food. He hated having to push him to eat, but it wouldn't do the boy any good if he starved himself to death. Harry reluctantly ate, but spent a good deal of time in his room, looking at the photo album of himself, Severus, and Augustus, and crying over it.

He still had not gone into the study to speak to Augustus' portrait, though the portrait itself had requested he come there via Lina and Hotspur.  Harry's reply to that had been, "I'll go later," but he never had.  He just didn't know if he could look at Augustus' portrait and hear that familiar voice without falling apart. Sometimes he would dream at night and wake up thinking that Augustus were still alive, only to remember with bitter anguish that he wasn't.

The old Auror's body had been removed to St. Mungos so they could prepare it for cremation. It had been stipulated in the will that Augustus wished his body returned to the earth, so that no dark wizard could dig up his remains and try to use them for some sick purpose, thinking to gain some magical power or just tick off his family.  Harry had viewed the body before it had been taken away, slipping in late yesterday night to see it, lying in the lab with a sheet over it. He had peeked at it, discovering that the body looked . . .peaceful. But when he touched it, it was cold and hard and he had fled from it, choking back sobs. That wasn't his great-grandfather. It felt like a doppelganger, a fake imitation. Augustus had been warm and loving, not some cold hard thing.

He had cried himself to sleep, despite Calin purring in his ear and Magnus licking his face. The wolf-dog seemed to have appointed himself Harry's companion, and followed the boy wherever he went. Harry did not mind. Magnus was good for a pillow or a shoulder to cry on, he didn't want to keep running to Severus or Sandra, they would think he was a baby, for lately all he seemed to do was cry.

That morning he woke up very early, recalling that the memorial service was going to be the next day.  He had wanted to say something meaningful about Augustus, but so far, the words seemed stuck in his throat. He had tried writing things down about the Auror that he knew and loved about him, but they all ended up sounding trite and stupid. After ten crumpled parchments, he gave up and decided to go back to sleep for a bit. Sandra had told him that sometimes if you sleep on a problem, it helped. 

So he curled back up in bed, it was still quite early, before six, and fell asleep with his cat on one side of him and Magnus at the foot, warming his feet.  Harry was surprised the giant dog could even fit on the bed with him, but somehow the dog managed to curl himself up just enough.

No sooner had Harry closed his eyes, then he began to dream . . .

* * * * * *

   He felt as though he were floating, high above the earth, through a bank of silvery clouds until he broke free and soared above a beautiful garden. It almost reminded him of Drusilla's garden, but this one was vast, and in it were every kind of tree, plant, flower, vegetable, and grain known to man and some that had become extinct long ago, before recorded history. He had no idea how he knew that, but he did.

The garden was beautifully sculpted and laid out, with everything in its place, and some parts had small stone walkways and mosaics and others had fishponds and statues and benches. Some had trellises and others had large planters and huge urns. And there were some parts that had been left to grow wild, as nature had intended.

He had never seen anything so beautiful in all of his life. Birds and butterflies and bumblebees flittered through the air, and he could almost smell the flowers, even though he was high above them.  As he watched, he saw people tending the garden and as he hovered nearer, he saw that these people had wings. 

Wings? But nobody has wings that I know of, unless . . .they're angels. 

No sooner had he realized this than he was made aware of a commotion just beyond the row of fig trees that fronted the garden gates, which were made of wrought iron festooned with climbing roses. 

He flew over and saw a familiar man standing just beyond the gates, speaking to a tall man with a beard and wings like an osprey. "Welcome to the Garden, Augustus Prince.  We have been waiting for you. Please, step inside and be welcome.  All that you seek lies within." At his touch, the gates swung open, and Augustus stepped inside.

As soon as Augustus' foot touched the rich soil he began to change. He grew younger, taller, and somehow more handsome than he had been in life. Wings of a blinding white edged with gold sprouted from his back and his tattered robes became new and shining clean. 

He looked down at himself and chuckled. "Guess they don't want anybody who looks like a mucky Monday wash in their Garden." He sighed in pleasure as he walked across the small lawn, towards the line of trees.

Harry gasped and nearly flew down to greet him, but something prevented him. He was here as an observer only.

From down a path sprinkled with wildflowers came three women, two were tall with tawny gold hair and one had hair dark as a rook's wing and was of medium height.  They were all dressed in different attire. The oldest of them had her hair bound in a tail and was wearing long robes colored in all shades of blue and gray, they shifted and changed as she walked, her velvet boots hardly seeming to touch the earth, her wings lying flat against her back. She had eyes the color of a sea after a storm and was both imposingly elegant and adorably cute.

The woman on her left looked no older than twenty-five and she had her hair loose and flowing. It was the same tawny shade as the older woman's. She was wearing a soft tunic and trousers colored an amber shade with brown piping and her boots were serviceable brown leather. She had eyes that were a bluish green and a pixie nose and a mouth that seemed made for smiling. Her wings were not like a raptor's, but fluffy and tapered like a songbird's.   

The woman on her right had her hair braided, and her eyes were a dark brown, sje was slighter than the others, but though her face had a serious cast, she looked like she was happy. Her wings were a pearl gray, like a hawk's. She was wearing robes of a deep green shade and as he stared, he began to see a resemblance in her to that of his father.

He watched as they caught sight of the man coming towards them and they half-flew and half-ran to him.

He froze when he saw them. "Drusilla? Grace? Eileen? Is that . . .really you?"

They surrounded him, hugging him and laughing and crying.

"Papa!" cried his two daughters and he swept them up in a hug. 

"My girls! How I've missed you!"

Then he set them down and opened his arms for his wife.

She wrapped her arms about him and kissed him delightedly. "Hello, Gus. It's been awhile, hasn't it, beloved?"

"Yes. I . . .still can't believe you're . . .here . . .and that we can be together forever."

"Forever and ever, without end.  Here in the Garden that is Paradise Regained, nothing ever dies, and all things grow and flourish. You'll like it here, Gus. We tend the plants and animals here with love and kindness and our own special brand of magic." Then she kissed him again. "I have missed you so much!"

"And I you, my Stormbringer," he said.

Then he drew away to look at Grace. "Gracie, how have you been?"

"Wonderful, Papa. The Garden is truly a paradise." She hugged him.

"I can feel it." He breathed in great gulps of the scented air. Then he looked at his youngest and his smiled dimmed.  "Eileen, I wish that I had gotten around to telling you before, but I just wanted to say how sorry I am for-"

She put a finger to his lips. "Hush, Papa. You have nothing to be sorry for.  I forgave you long ago. And here we let go of guilt and shame and all those negative emotions. Here there is no sorrow, no regret, only joy."

He hugged her tightly and whispered, "I love you, Eileen." There were tears in his eyes as she hugged him back.

"I love you too, Papa. Come, there is one more person you need to meet." She took his hand and together they began walking onto the broad path of white marble.

Suddenly a small child with curly golden hair and bright blue eyes and wings like a turtledove's came zooming through the trees. She was wearing a silvery dress and was barefoot. "Mama, Mama! Look at the stray kitty I found sitting by the gate!"

Augustus gasped, for in her chubby arms was Mystic. The cat mewed softly, for she was holding him a bit too tight.

He stared at the child. "Is that . . .?"

"Say hello to Melinda, your granddaughter." Drusilla announced. "And I believe that's your familiar she's holding."

"It is. My faithful cat, he must have followed me here." 

The little girl slowed and then landed neatly upon the path, still clutching the cat. She beamed up at Augustus. "Hi! I'm Lindy and you're my grandpa. Does he belong to you? Can I keep him?"

Augustus laughed. "His name is Mystic, child. And yes, you may keep him." Then he picked up his granddaughter and the black cat and they all walked down the path deeper into the Garden, together again at last. .  .

* * * * * *

Harry awoke and for the first time in three days he smiled.  He felt as if he had been given a Euphoria Draft, and for a few minutes he felt at peace and deliriously happy.  He wondered if the dream had been a true one, he usually didn't remember his dreams, not unless they were nightmares.  But this one . . .he still felt the aftereffects of that peaceful realm and could see with startling clarity Augustus, Drusilla, Grace, Eileen, Mystic, and Melinda, Grace's baby, who had she lived would have been a little older than Severus, all of them reunited once more. 

It's true then.  There really is a place beyond this one and Grandpa is happy and at peace there.  That suddenly made him feel a whole lot better, knowing that Augustus was not hanging around some limbo, but had gotten rewarded and was now with the family he had lost.

He sat up and stroked Calin, who purred lazily and opened one green eye. "Guess even cats go to heaven," he murmured, scratching her under the chin. She rubbed against his hand.

He lit the lamps with a softly spoken "Lumos!" and went to his desk, unstoppering his ink pot and trimming a quill. He had to hurry and write this down before he forgot. He now had the inspiration he needed to write a fitting tribute to Augustus.

He began to write quickly, slowing just enough so he didn't smudge his letters.

He was almost finished when he heard a soft footstep outside his door and then Magnus woke and woofed softly, as he usually did when his mistress was nearby.

"Harry? Well, you're up early this morning, aren't you?" Sandra asked, coming into his room.  "I was just coming to see where my dog had gotten to. I should have known he'd be sleeping with you.  What's wrong? Can't sleep?"

He turned to look at her. She was wearing a soft pink robe with rosebuds on it and soft pink felt slippers.  "No, I was sleeping until just a little bit ago.  But I had the strangest dream."

"A bad one?" she came over and gently brushed the hair away from his eyes. "Your hair needs trimming, my boy."

"Not yet. I like it long. Like Papa's," Harry argued. Then he began to tell her about the dream.  "I never remember much when I wake up about dreams. But in this one I remember everything.  Why?"

"Perhaps because your grandpa was trying to tell you something.  That you need to stop blaming yourself and let the guilt go.  You're too young to walk around with such a burden and you weren't to blame anyway. Augustus wouldn't want that." She took a seat on the edge of his bed, next to her familiar, who nuzzled her hand. She began petting him as she continued speaking. "Your grandpa loved you very much, and he would want you to grow up safe and happy. I know it's hard to lose him, but at least now you know he's in a better place.  I remember when I lost my mother, I was only seventeen, an orphan, and I was sure the world had ended.  I was sent to live with my uncle and was sure I would hate it.  I barely knew him.  But in the end I grew to love him and my cousins and he left me his shop after he passed on.  That was his legacy to me, and since then I've done my best to keep to the standards he set and make my business grow and prosper. In that way, I honor his memory best.  Perhaps it would help if you tried to do that?"

Harry considered for a minute or so, then he slowly nodded. "Yes. But what's his legacy to me?"

"Well, what did he like to do best?"

"Umm . . .he liked to grow things, and use his magic to help people, and he liked teaching me Defense . . ."

"Good. Then perhaps you could continue tending Drusilla's garden, now that he can't do it? And remember what he told your father, Harry. A part of him resides in the land, touch it and he shall be with you."

"Okay. I'll do that. Thanks, Mum."

She hugged him to her.  "You're welcome. Why don't you go back to bed?"

"All right."

She tucked the covers about him and then dimmed the lamp and left.  What a fortunate coincidence Harry had had that dream right then.  Or had it been a coincidence? She pondered that question all the way back to her bedroom, and was still mulling it over when she crawled into bed next to her husband, who half-woke and put an arm about her, before falling back to sleep. She put her head on his shoulder and was soon asleep as well.

* * * * * *

The morning edition of the Daily Prophet was delivered promptly at eight o'clock by both Valeska and Warlocke.  Augustus' owl was looking more and more worn ever since the old Slytherin's death, and Severus feared he too would follow his master into the grave.  In order to try and prevent that, Severus thought it was best to keep the owl busy and so sent him out to fetch Sandra's edition of the paper, which normally was delivered to her shop.  When he returned, Sandra gave him several treats and petted and made much of him.

This edition of the Prophet was running a special article to commemorate Augustus, it was a combination of an obituary and a headline announcing his heroic defeat of the worst dark wizard since Grindelwald.    

Elemental Master Dies Vanquishing Dark Lord!

By Robin Archer

Augustus Prince, born: February 14, 1887--died June 20th, 1992, in battle defeating dark wizard Tom Riddle, destroying him completely at the cost of his own life in a final strike utilizing all his considerable Elemental magic.  This was not a final desperate attack, but a conscious choice to use his Final Strike as a way to ensure the dark wizard, who has cheated death using unnatural methods, would finally meet his end with no escape from the inevitable. 

Augustus Prince was the son of Marcus Aurelius Prince and Honora Damaris Prince, descended from Merlin with the blood of Mage Kings in his veins. He was an exceptional man who lived according to the highest standard of honour, valour and dignity and was an indomitable force against evil to match the elements he wielded and mastered.  He exemplified his family motto "To Rule With Justice and Protect Those In Need."

A legendary Auror, he was instrumental in the defeat of Grindelwald, killing or capturing many of his followers and several of his top Lieutenants including his second in command.  Their duel was short and definitive, none could stand against Augustus Prince, Unleasher of Earthquakes, and many surrendered rather than face him and certain defeat.

After the war he was bodyguard to the Minster of Magic and is considered the standard by which all others are measured, as he is the only bodyguard in history to have a perfect record with no successful attacks on the Minster while Augustus was in charge of his safety. 

As a truly formidable warrior, Augustus was one of a rare few wizards in history to become a friend to the Goblin Nation, as such his legend continued to grow.  Not much is known about exactly what this honour involves, but one thing is clear---an enemy of Augustus Prince was an enemy of the Goblin nation.

The Prince family legacy thrived under the direction of Augustus. His shrewd business acumen and desire to help those in need made Prince Potion Labs a world famous place of excellence and innovation.  Countless people have benefited from the family's skill and commitment to the art of potion making. The Prince family also has a wing at St. Mungos named after them that is for children with spell damage due to miscast magic.  Lord Prince was once quoted as saying "An injured child is terrible for a parent, as they feel so helpless and as so much of our healing is dedicated to the very young or adults, this was my attempt to make life better for the children just learning to control their gift of magic and accidents do happen, no matter how careful you are."

Augustus Unleasher of Earthquakes, was married to Drusilla the "Stormbringer" Mercier on May 1st, 1917. They were married 55 years, until Drusilla's death in 1972. They were a formidable couple whose combined power was only matched by the love they had for each other. "She brightened the lives of all who knew her," her husband once said. "She was like the sun, under her I thrived." They were both very different and each had special Gifts but they were the perfect counterpart for the other.  They had two daughters, Grace Linden Carey, who died in 1959, and was a master woodcarver and Herbologist; her death was a great lost to our world due to her exceptional talent; and Eileen Estrella Snape, who died in 1977, a potions prodigy with only her son more gifted in the art of potion making.

Severus Snape has this to say about his grandfather: "With the passing of Augustus Prince the world is diminished not only by the loss of his powerful magic and many accomplishments but also of his great character. My grandfather personified and lived the warrior code of honour and valour all his life. In doing so he set an example for others to follow that shall never be forgotten. But he was also much more. He had the highest commitment to his family and friends, and was a true paterfamilias in every sense of the word, protecting and guiding them with firmness and love, compassion and integrity. If you seek an example of what a true friend, father, husband, or grandfather should be, look no further than Augustus Prince. He was proud of his lineage, but not arrogant, tolerant of others of different races and blood status, and was loved so by his familiar that Mystic followed him unto death. He is the only pureblood I know who freed his house elves upon assuming his inheritance and they remained to serve him still. That is what kind of man my grandfather was. From him I learned life's greatest lessons-be all you can be and nothing is more important than family. Now he is with Drusilla, his beloved wife, and his daughters, Grace and Eileen, and can rest in peace. But his legacy continues, and we, the Prince family, shall never let it die."

Elemental Master Augustus Prince will be cremated along with his familiar and their ashes scattered at their ancestral home. A memorial stone will be placed on

the grounds and can only be found by family and friends.   He is survived by

Severus Snape, Lord Prince, and his great-grandson, Harry Snape.

Augustus Prince was to be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class posthumously for the destruction of Voldemort since he refused the award for his part in the defeat of Grindelwald. However, in his will he states that he would prefer a new award be created, in lieu of his own. In accordance with his wishes, a Potion Masters award will be created instead so that the importance and skill of potion brewers can be recognized.

The following quotes are from friends of the valiant Auror:

Master Auror Moody: "Augustus was my mentor and I am honoured to say, my friend.  He taught me not only everything I needed to know to become an Auror, but to be the best and why I should be proud to be one. Also, to be ever vigilant against evil and those who embrace it.  He did what had to be done no matter how difficult the task; he could overcome any obstacle with intellect, cunning, determination, and heart.  Mourn the loss of a great man but not how he died--he died how he lived, fighting for a better world."

Ragnok, bank president of Gringotts: "Augustus, Unleasher of Earthquakes, lived and died a true warrior, killing his greatest enemies and ensuring the prosperity of his kin.  He will be remembered for all eternity and there will be a series of painting depicting his greatest battles hung in Gringotts. He will be placed alongside our warriors of legend and his story retold to our kin.  We, the Goblin Nation, feel assured that the new Lord Prince will continue his family legacy, bringing glory to the name and fear and inevitable destruction to his enemies."

Amelia Bones, Head of DMLE: "Lord Prince was a legend in life and an even greater legend in death, conquering Voldemort singlehandedly is something that will always be remembered in the pages of history.  What I will remember, however, is that Augustus Prince was the most honourable man I have ever known and I respected him, as did anyone who ever met him.  Those that did not perished or paid for their foolishness."

Augusta Longbottom, former student and Auror: "Augustus was my longtime friend, he was the kind of person that is very rare these days.  Even with his considerable magical talents and ancient blood line, he was never one to boast of his talents and linage. Proud yes, but never one to lord what he had over others or believe he was better than anyone like most purebloods.  I will miss his keen mind and sharp wit, he died protecting his family and that was what he valued above all else."

A memorial service will be held tomorrow upon the grounds of Foxfire Hall from 1-3 PM, those who are interested in attending, please contact Severus Snape, Lord Prince and a one-use Port Key will be owled to you.

Both Severus and Sandra were pleased with the article, and after reading it, began to eat their breakfast. The clock in the living room chimed nine fifteen and Severus looked at his wife and asked, "Is Harry still asleep?"

"I would assume so, since I found him awake around five thirty scribbling out a tribute poem for the memorial service. He told me he had a strange dream about Augustus going to heaven and becoming an angel and reuniting with his wife, daughters, and granddaughter again."

"Oh?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "Maybe that will help him start to accept Augustus's death and see his sacrifice in a different light." He rose to his feet. "Well, I'm off to meet with the solicitor and the financial manager about some legalities concerning my inheritance, so I will see you later, dearheart." He bent and kissed her gently before grabbing his cloak and Flooing from the manor.

Harry stumbled downstairs a few moments later, still yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Good morning."

"Morning, Harry. Care for a spot of breakfast?" Sandra asked.

"Yes, please." He replied, sliding into his usual seat.

Lina appeared at his elbow. "What would Master Harry enjoy?"

Harry thought, then said, "French toast with pecans, bananas, and maple syrup, Lina."

"Coming right up, Master," she said.

Moments later a full platter of French toast popped up in front of him.  For the first time in days he was hungry and dug in eagerly.

While he ate he read the article the Prophet had printed and thought it wonderful. He only hoped his poem would be half as good.

* * * * * *

Memorial service

Foxfire Hall:

Harry was surprised to see so many familiar faces at the service as well as unfamiliar ones. He recognized the battle-scarred Auror "Mad-Eye" Moody from visits to Foxfire Hall and stern Amelia Bones as well. Nearly the entire force of Aurors were there, except for those on assignment or too ill to attend the service. The staff of Hogwarts was all present as well, and Harry wondered resentfully if Dumbledore regretted not assisting his grandfather more with trying to capture Voldemort. If he had, perhaps Augustus might not have needed to make the ultimate sacrifice.  But Harry knew that soon the Headmaster would come under fire from the many angry parents, including his own, who had learned of Dumbledore's folly of hiding the Sorcerer's Stone inside Hogwarts and endangering their precious offspring. 

He waved at Professor Malfoy, who gave him a sad smile.  To his shock, he saw Narcissa and Draco standing next to her, looking grave and solemn, and Draco was wearing neatly pressed dress robes and looked as if they scratched him uncomfortably in places.  Harry could sympathize, even with magic, sometimes dress clothes were awfully uncomfortable. 

The Longbottoms were all present, as were the Zabinis, but Harry had expected to see them. He also saw Marcus Flint and his parents, Marcus looked as uncomfortable as Draco in his starched robes.  All the shopkeepers at Diagon Alley were also there, including Smithers and Susannah.  All told there had to be close to a hundred people gathered upon the lawn that morning to offer their condolences and pay their respects. Harry suspected there would have been even more, but his father had had to set a limit on who could enter the grounds by Port Key.

There was a wooden podium set up in front of a massive elm tree at the forefront of the gathering, and Harry knew it was for himself and Severus and any member of those gathered who wished to say something about the late Augustus Prince.

He was standing just to the left of the podium, nervously gripping his poem in his sweaty palm.  He had never spoken in front of such a large group of people and he hoped he would not make an ass out of himself. He was dressed in stark black robes with a high collar and the Prince crest of a leopard rampant upon a divided ground of green and silver. 

Behind him, Severus gripped his shoulder gently. He was dressed the same as Harry, in unrelieved mourning.  "Are you sure you wish to do this, Harry? You don't have to."

Harry nodded firmly. "Yes, I do, Papa. I want to. So . . .so they remember not just the . . .hero but the man."

Severus squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. Harry leaned into his side for a brief moment.  "All right, son. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go ahead."

Harry squared his shoulders, cast one look back at his father and Sandra, who gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up, then he mounted the podium. Severus came up beside him and cast a Voice Amplifying charm on him, touching his wand gently to Harry's throat, then he stepped back.

"Hello," Harry began, his voice sounding unnaturally high and too loud.  "I'd like to thank you all for coming here and I'd like to read a poem I wrote about my great-grandpa.  This is my . . .uh . . ." for one terrifying moment he forgot what he was going to say. He began to panic, until Severus moved around the podium and stood next to Augusta Longbottom and mouthed the word "tribute".  Thank you, Papa. " . . .tribute to him."

He looked down at the parchment he had written the poem on in relief. Then he began to read in a soft voice.

"When the dawn breaks and all is still,

I can hear your voice in the whisper of the wind,

Remember me.

Remember the walks beneath the trees in the late afternoon,

Learning botany and herbology,

While the wind teased and told you secrets it had heard,

Knowledge once lost now found again, that you shared with me.

Now I hear the wind again, sobbing through the trees, crying,

"Don't forget-remember, remember me."

I stare into the fire, watching it flicker and dance,

In the crackle of the flames, I see you once again.

Remember the lazy nights beside the hearth,

Playing chess, learning strategy,

Win or lose it's how you play the game.

The fire crackles and spits, wild and fierce,

But you tamed the untameable,

Made a friend of the beast.

The fire dies on the hearth,

Embers burning away,

Yet I shall remember, remember always.

I sit by the lake, and stare into the depths,

Recalling your smile,

Your unfailing kindness to a mischievous child,

Still waters run deep,

But deepest of all, was your love for your family,

Flowing swift and strong, unending as the tide.

"Remember," cries the water, as it ripples to the shore.

"Remember that I love you, when I can speak no more."

Today I lay you to rest, in the earth from whence you came,

Where every tree and flower, rock and shrub you knew by name.

Master of the earthquake, nurturer of seeds,

What you take you must give back,

You once said to me.

"Honor thus my sacrifice, but remember this,

My spirit is part of the land,

Touch it and you'll see,

I am never truly gone,

So long as you remember me."

Harry stopped reading and looked out over at those listening. To his astonishment, he saw tears streaming down many faces. He swallowed, for he was very close to breaking down himself, and said, "I know all of you will remember my grandpa as the man who defeated Voldemort, but that's how I remember him. He was a great wizard and the best grandfather."

Then he jumped down from the podium and went to hug Sandra, who was crying into a handkerchief. "Oh, Harry, that was the most beautiful tribute ever!"

"It was?"

"Your grandpa would be so proud," she sniffled.

"He would. That was very well done, Harry," said Severus. "I don't know how I'm going to compete with that." He ruffled his son's hair and hugged him for a minute before mounting the podium himself.

"Well, it would seem my son has the soul of a bard. I won't even attempt to try and match that. I would like to thank all of you for coming here, and were my grandfather here, he would invite you all inside for a glass of port and a feast cooked by our amazing house elf, Lina.  What my son said about Augustus teaching him to give back what you received is true.  He lived that code of noblesse oblige all his life.  I regret to say I never knew my grandfather as a child, for I grew up mostly Muggle, but when I finished my Potions Mastery and was struggling to hold down a job and raise a baby, he was there for me. He gave me not only a home and a position as a Potions Master, he also gave me a family and respected me for who I was. And for that, as for much else, I shall never be able to repay him. But he would never expect it. He did what he did, for me, and for all of us, because it was right, and because his love for his family and his conscience would not allow him to do less. I am honored to have known him, to be a part of his family, and to continue where he left off.  He was by no means a perfect man, he would be the first to admit that, but he learned from his mistakes and in the end he died without regrets.  How many of us can say that? Very few, I think.  I can only hope that when I leave this life, I will have earned the respect of my fellow wizards and witches as he did, not only for the deeds I accomplished, but for being honorable and just and kind, as he was. . ."

Harry would have liked to stay and listen to the rest of Severus' speech, but he had an urgent need to use the bathroom, and so he regretfully hurried inside.

When he returned to the lawn, Neville approached him diffidently and said, "Harry, I .  . .I just wanted to say I'm sorry . . .for your grandpa dying and . . .and I'll understand if . . .you hate me and don't want to be my friend ‘cause of what happened . . .in the chamber I mean . . ."

Harry gaped like a fish out of water. "Me, hate you? Nev, you dunderhead! Why ever would I do that?"

Neville looked down at his shoes. "Because . . .it was my fault you almost got killed . . .and my fault the . . .Dark Lord . . .almost won and your grandpa had to die so . . .I'm really sorry!" He turned away, sniffling into a handkerchief.

"Nev, stop. Listen to me. You didn't ask to be put under an Imperius Curse, did you? No. So how can I blame you for doing what you did? It wasn't you who almost killed me, you idiot Puff-brain! It was Moldy-shorts!"

"But maybe I c-could have fought harder . . ."

"Nev, he was a master wizard, the strongest ever ‘sides my grandpa, how could you even think you could fight him off? You're a first year! I tried and he kicked my arse! If it weren't for the protection spell my mother cast on me as a baby, I would be in heaven with Grandpa. Now quit blaming yourself, okay. I forgive you, as if you needed it, and you're still my friend." He socked the other boy playfully in the shoulder.

"Thanks, Harry," Neville gave him a watery smile. "I'll be right back." He hurried inside to wash his face.

Harry turned around, wondering if he should talk to Blaise as well, and started to head over to where the Zabinis were standing at the right of the podium, when a tall man with shaggy dark hair and sparse beard wearing a suit and tie that was about ten years out fashion came towards him.

"Excuse me, but are you Harry Potter?" he asked in a low voice, taking the youngster by the arm and pulling him beneath the shade of an oak tree.

Harry stared at him. "Sir, I don't know you, and would you let go of my arm?" he asked.

"Sorry," the man released him, giving him a sheepish grin. "You look like the spitting image of Lily. You wouldn't remember me, but I'm your godfather, Sirius Black."

Harry backed away. "You . . .you were in Azkaban. You betrayed my parents!"

"No, I didn't. That was Peter Pettigrew. He framed me. I've been cleared of all charges. Didn't you read the morning paper?" Sirius frowned.

Harry shook his head. "No. I was helping my father scatter my great-grandfather's ashes over the grounds and put the memorial stone in place. I didn't have time to read the paper."

"I owe him one. Augustus Prince, I mean. He was the one who got the memories from V-Voldemort and after reviewing them, they discovered I was innocent and released me."

Harry looked at him suspiciously. "How did you get here? And how do you know about me being a Potter? That's a secret."

"Dumbledore came and told me after I'd been released," Sirius answered. "He also brought me here. I came to pay my respects to Lord Prince and to talk to you."

Harry frowned. The man seemed sincere, but then so had Lucius Malfoy that time when he had given Harry potion-laced cocoa when he was seven. And Dumbledore had brought him. Harry didn't trust the Headmaster as far as he could spit. "Wait here," he said.

Then he turned and went inside to the dining room. "Lina, where's today's copy of the Prophet?" he asked the little elf, who was dusting like a dervish.

"Right there, young master," she indicated the paper on the buffet.

Harry picked it up and saw the headline of the day.  Sirius Black Innocent! Wrongly Convicted, Framed By Best Friend! Ministry Receives New Information From Lord Prince Via Memory Bottle!

Harry quickly read through the article, which basically stated what Black had already told him. Apparently, he had been framed by his best friend, Peter Pettigrew, the real enemy of Lily and James Potter, who had been secretly working for Voldemort. Pettigrew had become Secret Keeper for the Potters and later betrayed them, then set up Sirius to take the fall, because no one except him and the Dark Lord knew that Peter had been Secret Keeper besides the Potters. He read how Pettigrew had tricked everyone into believing his own death by transforming into his Animagus form of a rat and escaping with only the loss of a finger. The Aurors were currently trying to locate Pettigrew's whereabouts.

Harry hoped they found the slimy rodent and kicked his arse.  He was surprised Black wasn't helping them, for surely he would want revenge upon the cowardly beast.  He deserved to be Kissed.

Tucking the paper under an arm, Harry returned to where Sirius waited beneath the oak tree. "All right. You were telling the truth."

"You didn't believe me?"

Harry shrugged. "Would you, if you were me?"

Sirius thought about it. "No . . .I guess not."

Harry glanced up towards the podium. Severus was almost done giving his eulogy and Harry had missed nearly all of it. "Look, I have to go back over there, my father will be looking for me-"

Sirius' face turned suddenly hard. "Snape isn't your father," he declared frostily. "You're James' son, not that greasy-haired snake's."

Harry stiffened. "Watch how you talk about my father!" he snapped. "He's just as much my dad as the one I was born to."

"You don't know what you're saying," Sirius cried. "You're a Potter, you're no relation to that Slytherin git!"

Harry felt his temper spark. "Look, Mr. Black, you've got some nerve, coming here and talking about my father this way! For your information, that Slytherin git raised me when my bloody relatives tossed me into a manger to die on Christmas Eve!" Harry hissed.  "Or didn't Dumbledore tell you that part? And furthermore, he and my grandfather are both Slytherins and so am I!"

Sirius was stunned. "You? A snake? But your father and mother were in Gryffindor."

"So what? Not everyone has to be in the same House just because their parents were. Neville's not. And neither were you, if what my papa told me is true."

"Okay, you're right. I should have known better," Sirius said quickly. "It doesn't matter if you're one of them. Look, I came here to-"

"One of them? You make it sound like Slytherins are scum," Harry said. "We're not."

"Voldemort came from there and so did nearly all his Death Eaters," Sirius pointed out.

"Yeah? Well, my grandpa came from there too, Mr. Black. The one who killed him, and saved your arse. Let's not forget that!"

A sudden gust of wind swirled through the branches of the oak tree as Harry's temper started to burn even hotter. How dare this . . .this former convict imply that all Slytherins were dark and evil?

 "I didn't mean him, Harry. It's just . . .I'm not used to owing favors to Slytherins. Never mind. That's not why I'm here. I came here to see you and to tell you that as soon as I get Grimmauld Place fixed up, you can come and live there with me, as my ward. James named me your godfather and said that if anything should happen to him, then I was to raise you. Only that didn't happen because I was framed and went to Azkaban. But now things are different. Now we can be together, like it was supposed to be and we'll get along fine, James was my best friend, you know, and we can go to Quidditch games, I know you play because Dumbledore told me so, and so did your father, he was a Chaser, best flyer I ever saw-"

"Hold it! Hold it!" Harry cried, aghast. "I . . .don't . . .I can't come and live with you, Mr. Black-"

"Sirius."

"Sirius, because I already have a home. Here at Foxfire Hall. This is where I belong now."

"No, you don't. You're not a Snape-"

"I'm as much a Snape as I am a Potter," Harry insisted. "Severus blood-adopted me."

"What?" Sirius couldn't believe his ears. It was almost unfathomable.

Harry repeated what he'd just said, wondering if the man were one syllable short of an incantation. "See, I'm a Snape by blood now. And there's nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing wrong---Harry James Potter, your father must be turning over in his grave to hear you say that!"

"Why? Because he thought all Slytherins were dark too? Well, too damn bad. He's not here, and I consented to the adoption because Severus saved my life and he's the one who raised me and he's a better father than anyone else I could name. Now get over yourself, won't you?"

"Get over myself? It's clear Snivellus didn't teach you any manners, did he?"

Before Harry could respond to that commented, Hotspur popped up next to him. He gave Sirius a distinctly unfriendly glare. "Master Harry, is this gentleman bothering you? For if so, I can escort him off the premises."

"What the bloody hell? A house elf?"

Hotspur gave him a short bow. "I am Hotspur, I serve as Lord Prince's major domo. And you, sir, are a guest here. You should not be upsetting Master Harry so, nor speaking while Lord Prince is addressing you. Please be more respectful, or I shall be forced to escort you off the grounds."

"Since when does a house elf lecture a wizard?"

"He's a freed house elf, not a bonded one," Harry said. "Hotspur, save your breath. I'm done talking with him." He made as if to turn away, but Sirius grabbed his shoulder.

A low snarl rippled through the air.

Sirius looked up . . .to see a humungous black wolf not five feet away, fangs bared, looking as if he wanted to tear Sirius to shreds.

Sirius quickly released Harry and backed off a step. "Easy, boy. Calm down. I wasn't going to hurt him."

Magnus continued to growl warningly, coming to stand at Harry's side. Harry wrapped a hand in the wolf-dog's ruff.

"Harry, call the wolf off. I don't want to have to hex him."

"You hurt him, and I'll-"

"Harry, what in bloody hell is going on?" demanded Severus, striding across the lawn. He stopped when he saw who was standing in front of his son. "Black! I should have known. Didn't your mother ever teach you to show respect for the dead?"

Sirius turned. "Snape, I came here to pay my respects-"

"Good. Now get out and leave my son alone!" Severus came to stand behind Harry.

"I'll leave when I'm good and ready, Snape! That's my godson you've brainwashed, and he doesn't belong here with you. James would have never wanted that."

"James Potter is dead," Severus declared flatly. "What he would have wished is a moot point."

"Papa, he wants to be my guardian and make me go and live with him," Harry told him. 

"You're insane, Black! You can't even take care of yourself, much less a child. And Harry already has a family."

"I'm his godfather, Snape. I'll fight you for custody," Sirius growled.

Severus sneered. "Please, Black. Go home and thank Merlin that my grandfather obtained those memories before he died.  If you make one move to try and take Harry from me, I'll bury you. In court or out of it."

"Since when did you start caring about James Potter's son, Snivellus? You hated his father!"

"What does that have to do with Harry?" Severus inquired silkily, furious. "His father was a bully who tormented me at school and you helped him. But that's nothing to do with my son. He's been mine since I took him from the manger that night and saved him from freezing. Now, I'll ask you once more, out of respect for the dead, to leave." He fingered his wand meaningfully. "Don't make me duel you at my grandfather's memorial service."

Sirius bristled. "Ha! As if you could. James and I used to thrash you all around the pitch. Remember?"

"Because you fought two and three on one, you yapping mongrel," Severus spat. "But in a fair fight, I used to whip your arse. Or don't you remember?"

Sirius flushed, unwilling to admit he was wrong. "I only wanted to see Harry."

"You've seen him. Now leave, Black. This day has been hard enough for him without you adding to it." He put an arm about Harry, who turned and hugged him.

"Harry, I meant what I said. You have a choice now. You can come and live with me anytime. I'm sorry we got off to a bad start, but I really would like to know you better."

Harry pulled away from Severus. "Mr. Black, I meant what I said too. This is my home.  I'm Harry Snape, and this is my father now. And if you can't accept him, then you can't accept me either. Take it or leave it."

Sirius's shoulders slumped. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yes." The green eyes met his gaze firmly. "Blood isn't the only thing that makes a family. I learned that a long time ago."

"All right. If this is how you want it?"

"It is."

"Okay. If I write to you . . .will you at least read my letters?"

"Yes. But only if you quit insulting my father." Harry said pointedly, looking at Severus.

"Agreed." But the other man did not meet his eyes.

"Sev, is there something wrong?" asked Sandra, hurrying over to them.

Severus turned. "No, there's nothing wrong now. Mr. Black was just leaving."

Sirius looked at Sandra. "Who are you?"

"My wife, Sandra, Lady Prince," Severus replied smoothly. "We've just been married."

Sirius gave her a brief bow. "My lady." Then he nodded curtly at Severus and smiled at Harry. "I'll keep in touch, Harry." He turned and walked away towards the section of the lawn where the Headmaster was standing.

"Who was that?" asked a puzzled Sandra.

"My godfather, Sirius Black," answered Harry.

"A bloody pain-in-the-arse," Severus replied at almost the same time.

"Papa, he can't . . .make me live with him, can he?" Harry asked uneasily.

"Not on your life.  No court will agree to let him be your guardian, even if he's been cleared of charges, son."

"Severus, just what is going on here?"

"Black came here to try and talk some nonsense to Harry about him going to live with him because he's his godfather. Utter rubbish!" Severus said dismissively. "Harry told him no and he got in a snit about it. So I told him to leave."

"Will he be trouble?" Sandra looked concerned.

"He'd better not be, if he knows what's good for him." Severus ruffled Harry's hair. Then he looked across the lawn and saw Black and Dumbledore vanish.  "Harry, if he tries to convince you to move in with him again, tell him you've already discussed it and bring the letter to me. Then I'll write him back and tell him if he doesn't quit badgering you, I'll bring him up on harassment charges."

"But does he have a legal right to challenge you, Sev?"

"A slim one, since he was named godfather. But it would fall apart under a review board. My blood adoption is consentual and far more binding. And Black knows it."

"And I don't want to go live with him," Harry said. "He hates Slytherins and he's an idiot. He thinks I should have been in Gryffindor and he called Papa a greasy git."

"He would." Severus sighed.

"Was it true, what he said about you and my other dad?"

"Harry, that's a long story and I'll talk to you later about it. Right now we have guests and they need to be taken care of. I think Auror Moody and Gran Augusta wished to say a short tribute and then we can offer refreshments inside."

"I'll go and tell Lina to start getting the buffet ready," Sandra said, and hurried inside the manor.

 "Come, son. Don't worry about Black. He doesn't have a leg to stand on. His reputation is still in tatters, even with the acquittal, and he has no money, since the Ministry confiscated his vault and spent all the funds on charity, which is what they normally do with convicted criminals. And that means he'll have to find a job in order to support himself pretty quickly. How did he get here anyway? I didn't see his name on my request list."

"He said Dumbledore brought him."

"Figures. Well, if he's going to rely on Dumbledore, he'll be in sorry straits, because Dumbledore's going to be up to his ears in lawsuits as well over the whole mess with the Sorcerer's Stone and Voldemort running free in the school and endangering students' lives." Severus said grimly.

"Is one of them yours?"

"Mine, the Longbottoms, the Zabinis, and many others. I think even the Malfoys brought one against him. But that's something we can discuss later on too. Right now let's just get through the service and honor your grandpa."

"I miss him,Papa."

"Me too. He would have sent Black scurrying away like whipped puppy," Severus said, with just the hint of a smirk.

"You did good, sir," his son said loyally.

Severus smiled down at him, then they went across the lawn to listen to Moody and Augusta reminisce about their days as Aurors with the indomitable Augustus Prince, whose legacy and legend would never fade.