Chapter 2

Remembering Hogwarts

Harry and Hermione caught up with Severus before he reached the castle doors. His quick and sure steps had slowed slightly as he drew nearer to the castle. Beside him, Anna was nearly jumping with excitement and Lily, who had darted ahead of her new friend, continued her running commentary.

"You can see the giant squid out in the lake if you squint—look right over Dumbledore's tomb. That's the big white thing right on the shore there. And that's Hagrid's hut over there—you can see his dog coming up here to see us. Hey Chester! He's a St. Bernard and he drools a lot but my dad does a really good drying charm so don't worry if he slobbers on you…"

The group was almost to the stairs leading up to the great front doors when Anna ran up to grab her father's hand.

"You can see Hogwarts, can't you Papa?" she asked.

"Of course I can see it," answered Severus. "It's right there in front of us—we're about to walk into it."

Anna tugged on her father's hand again. "No, you don't see. I mean, you DO see. And that's what's important. You can't see Hogwarts unless you're a witch or wizard. It was in the booklet Professor Sprout brought. It has all sorts of charms on it to keep curious Muggles away. If you can see it, it proves you're a wizard, Papa!"

"As if there were any doubt," muttered Harry to Hermione, grinning at her and wanting very much to say how much Anna reminded him of a younger Hermione.

Severus had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Still holding his daughter's hand, he titled his head back to gaze up at the castle. The doors had opened and Minerva McGonagall, wearing dark green robes with a her tartan scarf, stepped out onto the upper landing.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said in greeting.

"Good afternoon, Minerva," greeted Hermione as she mounted the stairs and hugged the Headmistress. Harry followed her, smiling as his new boss wrapped her arms around him and whispered "Well done, Harry. The Prince has returned, indeed!"

She let go of Harry in time to reach out a hand to Severus.

"Severus, meet Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress of Hogwarts," said Harry.

"Welcome home," she said with a smile as she shook first Severus' hand, then Anna's. "What would you like to be called?" she asked, turning back to Severus.

"What did you call me when you knew me?" answered Severus, looking intently at her.

"Until your last year at Hogwarts, I called you Severus," she answered.

"And what did you call me during my last year?" he countered.

"Why, Headmaster of course," she replied, darting a look over to Harry and Hermione.

Severus continued to look at her, almost as if searching for something slightly beneath the surface, some flicker or glimmer of recognition, perhaps.

"Severus will be fine," he said at last. "I imagine I'll become accustomed to the name eventually. What shall I call you, Headmistress?"'

"Minerva," she replied definitively. The corners of her mouth were beginning to turn up as she looked at her former colleague. "Severus, I cannot tell you how good it is to see you again. I must admit I was beginning to wonder if Harry was wrong and you really were dead."

"Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," he said, his mouth turning up in an almost-smile very similar to her own.

"Mark Twain," murmured Hermione.

"Huh?" said Harry.

"Famous American writer," replied Hermione. "Oh, never mind. I'll explain later."

Harry glanced at the white tomb near the lake and at the dark gray marble slab on the ground beside it, the place where they had buried Severus' casket. Probably best to leave that little detail for a later time.

"I know," said Hermione, breaking the silence that had settled over the group. "Why don't I take the girls on a tour? We'll go meet Hagrid and see the highlights while you all talk….about the curriculum, of course," she completed as Anna was biting her bottom lip, looking reluctant to be separated from her father.

"Excellent idea, Hermione," said Minerva. She turned to the two men. "Let's have a cup of tea in my office and leave the girls to explore, shall we?" She turned without waiting for their answer and made her way inside the castle. Harry held the door while Severus followed her inside then slipped in behind him.

They had taken only a few steps when Severus stopped and unabashedly stared at the four huge hourglasses full of precious gems.

"House points," explained Harry. "One hourglass for each house, and the gems count up points as they're awarded or taken away."

"I like the green," commented Severus, turning to the left toward the dungeon stairs instead of following Minerva, who had already started up the great stairs.

"This way, Severus," said Harry, exchanging a quick glance with Minerva. Muscle memory, he thought. Severus' brain didn't recognize this place but his body reacted as it always had, automatically turning toward his dungeon quarters. The experience was becoming more and more surreal. Severus slowed occasionally as they walked, staring at the moving portraits, lifting up the visor on a suit of armor to look inside, glancing inside classrooms. When they reached the gargoyle guarding the stairway to the Headmistresses' office, the stone creature stepped aside and Minerva stepped casually onto the moving stairway while Severus stopped suddenly. Harry almost ran into him.

"Problem?" asked Harry with a smile. He could see that Severus was studying the spiral staircase that moved much like a Muggle escalator and pondering the physics that made it possible. Or impossible. One of those two, anyway.

"Leap of faith," said Harry softly as he stepped by Severus onto the stairway. By the time he'd made the first spiral, Severus had stepped aboard and was riding the staircase up as if he hadn't a concern in the world.

Minerva was already sitting behind her desk, a fully loaded tea tray before her, when Harry entered the room. As always, his eyes were drawn to the two portraits behind her desk. He turned to watch Severus come in. The man appeared to walk without touching the floor—how did he do that?—and glided over toward Minerva.

The reaction was unexpected.

Harry had thought about this moment as they'd walked through the castle. What would Severus do—or say—when confronted with his own portrait in his old office?

What Harry hadn't imagined was the reaction of the other portraits.

When Severus walked into the office, Dumbledore's portrait, which was almost always sleeping when Harry visited, called out "Severus, my boy!"

And the other headmasters and headmistresses began to clap. And cheer. And call out welcomes and congratulations.

Harry supposed time was of no significance to a portrait. They welcomed Severus back to their fold as the hero he was, much as they had welcomed Harry and celebrated his victory when he returned to this very office after the Final Battle. They welcomed Severus as if his victory was fresh, not stale after twenty years. They didn't seem to notice that he was dressed as a Muggle, that his hair was short, his face clean-shaven. These portraits had shared his office every day during that last terrible year, had witnessed his conversations with Dumbledore's portrait, had known what he had had to do.

Severus, for his part, took the welcome in stride. He glanced back at Harry, who still had the same gob-smacked smile on his face, then over at Minerva, who looked inordinately pleased.

"The former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts," she said by way of explanation. "They are congratulating you on your part in the defeat of the Dark Lord twenty years ago. They haven't seen you since you left this office the night he was deposed."

"My boy," Albus was saying, his arms outstretched, a tear on his wrinky portrait cheek. "You survived! You used the port-key and Abeforth was able to help you."

Harry's head jerked away from Severus toward Dumbledore's portrait and he took several quick steps forward as Minerva, too, rose to her feet and pivoted to face the portrait.

"Port-key?" Harry exclaimed. "Abeforth?"

"Albus!" Minerva was saying at the same time. "What does Abeforth have to do with this?"

"Abeforth?" said Severus. "Who the hell is Abeforth?"

Minerva held up her hand to silence her guests then waved her wand at the portraits to silence them as well. She took a step closer to Albus' portrait and Harry moved as close as he could to her, standing against her desk with Severus at his side.

"Albus, we have finally found Severus after 20 years! Harry has been looking for him for much of that time. And all this time you knew he was alive? Yet you said nothing?"

"Minerva, I am only a portrait," answered the former headmaster. "Infused with memories, but not a rational human being. I recall now that I made an emergency port-key for Severus, an empty potions vial that he kept with him at all times. The port-key would take him to Abe's place." He looked imploringly at Severus. "It did work, did it not? It took you to Abe's apartments above the Hog's Head and he was able to treat your wounds?"

"Abe was your brother?" asked a clearly confused and startled Severus. "My Abe was a wizard too? He knew me before my accident?"

Now Harry and Minerva were staring at Severus.

"Abeforth Dumbledore—Abe—was the proprietor of a local pub in the nearby village," said Harry. "Are you saying you knew him? After your accident?"

"He was the one that found me," said Severus. His calm demeanor was beginning to unravel. "He found me on the street next to a dumpster in London and took me to the hospital. He was my benefactor—he paid for my treatment and visited me several times while I was there. When I was released from rehab, he helped me find a flat, helped me establish a new identify when it became obvious I would not get my memory back. He even funded my education. When he died, he left me a tidy sum of money, enough for me to buy my home. And you are saying he knew who I was and never told me?"

"Severus….Severus!" Dumbledore's portrait tried in vain to get the man's attention while Minerva and Harry both began to speak at the same time.

"He was only following your wishes, Severus!" This time, Albus' voice rang out loudly and everyone stopped talking and turned to look at the portrait.

"My wishes?" Severus' voice was low.

"Yes, your wishes. To leave Wizarding Britain if you survived the war. To start all over fresh, not as a hero or a villain. You…you don't remember, Severus?"

"No, he doesn't," said Harry, addressing Albus. "He has no memory of anything before his accident. He didn't even know he's a wizard. He hasn't used magic—intentionally, anyway—since he left."

Albus' portrait face had a look of understanding on it.

"So Abeforth decided that without your memory, you had essentially left Wizarding Britain. Brilliant, quite brilliant."

"I think," said Minerva, walking briskly around her desk to join Harry and Severus, the exquisite tea tray quite forgotten. "I think we should leave this office now and go visit Madam Pomfrey."

"Great idea," answered Harry, shooting a confused look at Albus' portrait.

Severus followed the other two without protest.

"I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed," he admitted as they rode the staircase down. "If I have pieced things together correctly, I played the role of a spy in this war you speak of, some of that time as Headmaster of this school. The chocolate frog card says I killed the former Headmaster, at his request. I doubt that absolves me. At some point after a giant snake bit me and I nearly bled to death, I used a port-key that took me to a pub and the owner of the pub, the former Headmaster's brother, elected to take me to hospital and then helped me set up a new life in London. He never told me about the magical world."

"That about sums it up," said Harry, slowing down as running footsteps were heard from around the corner. The girls hurtled around it a moment later, coming to an abrupt stop when they saw the adults.

"Papa!" exclaimed Anna. "I saw your tomb! Your real tomb! Only you aren't buried there really, are you? You're right here and there's only an empty box with your boots, your robes and your wand under the slab. Hermione told me all about it, about how you disappeared and they never found your body but had a funeral anyway to show you respect."

"You buried my wand?" asked Snape, looking rather critically over at Harry, as if all decisions relating to his death and funeral had been Harry's alone. "Won't I be needing it?"

"Maybe," answered Hermione. "We certainly should retrieve it. It's most likely that it will still work for you, but if your magic has changed, you might need a new one.

"We met Hagrid, Papa!" exclaimed Anna. "He's about 10 feet tall and he has gray stripes in his beard. It's really quite funny but he claims it's distinguished. I didn't want to hurt his feelings so I agreed. Then he took us to see the squid. We all got in this little wooden boat and he tossed some pieces of rock cake in the lake to attract it. They sunk right down and before you know it the squid was there. I got to touch its tentacles, Papa! Do you think we can have calamari for dinner tonight?"

"Let's go down to the kitchens and meet the house elves," suggested Hermione. Like the other adults, with the exception of Severus, her mouth, too, threatened to break into a delighted smile.

Lily's voice could be heard as the three moved off down the staircase. "They're not scary, really. Well, Kreacher can be—sometimes—when I don't pick up my room or eat all my vegetables. But really they're adorable. They have big eyes and ears like bats…"

Minerva, Harry and Severus had paused before the doors of the hospital wing.

"Does Poppy already know?" asked Harry, his hand on the door, ready to swing it open.

"No, let's surprise her, shall we?" answered Minerva.

"Isn't she rather old to be surprising her like this?" asked Harry, a bit worried.

"Harry, she's always been in your camp about Severus," answered Minerva. "It will do her heart good to see that you were right. She can check him over and suggest a specialist."

"Check me over? Excuse me, but I have a physician I've been seeing for years," said Severus, looking about the old building, decorated in a very modern 15th century style, and peaking into the small window on the infirmary door.

"Oh, Poppy's not a doctor," suggested Harry helpfully as he placed a hand on Severus' shoulder and steered him inside. "She's Mediwitch, rather like a healer. Remember—magic?"

Severus appeared to steel himself again and the slightly worried look dissolved under what Harry now recognized as a mask, not unlike, he thought, an Occlumency barrier. Well, Severus was a natural at mind magic years ago, and had gone into mind healing while living as a Muggle. If nothing else, he was showing phenomenal control of his emotions. Harry considered pinching him, wondering if Severus was getting through this so stoically because he had convinced himself he was dreaming.

The three walked into the hospital wing, quietly by instinct although school of course was not yet in session and not a single one of the crisp white cots was occupied. Looking around, Harry could see why Severus might be alarmed. The man was used to Muggle medicine, with electronic equipment, syringes, medication in pill form and all sorts of instruments. He certainly seemed a bit taken aback when Poppy walked out of her office, wearing her long white and grey robes and carrying nothing but her wand.

"Poppy, we have a visitor," Minerva said, reaching out to put her hand on Severus' arm as if to draw him closer to meet Poppy.

Poppy's sharp eyes had gone from Severus' face, the spark of recognition obvious, then to Harry's, taking in his still "I can't believe this is really happening" smile, and finally back to Minerva who was continuing. "Though he only learned of his real name a few hours ago, Mr. Squires here has asked us to call him Severus."

While the three wizards Severus had met to date had all remained as professional as possible when meeting him, offering him their hands to shake and treating him with a guarded respect, Poppy, who had essentially been Severus' physician since he was eleven years old, who had treated him for everything from sniffles to broken bones to the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse, who had stood by him—mentally at least—while he served as Headmaster under Voldemort's reign, let her face break out in a delighted smile as she placed her arms around his neck (quite without invitation Snape thought at the time, though the feeling was as close to a positive memory of old as he could muster) and kissed him on his cheek.

She had tears in her eyes as she brushed her hand across the cheek she had just kissed.

"You look quite distinguished without the beard, Severus. I like it on you."

"Severus has a daughter starting at Hogwarts this year," said Minerva. "Pamona didn't see him during the home visit but his nanny contacted us. When she heard about the magical world, she wondered if her employer was a wizard himself. Seems he's had bouts of accidental magic." Poppy looked from Minerva to Severus to Harry,obviously confused."

Harry stepped in. "Poppy, Severus lost his memory. He doesn't remember anything at all about his life before Nagini bit him. We're only just putting the pieces together of what happened, but Severus has spent twenty years living as a Muggle. I only went to visit him this morning to see that it really was him and to tell him a little bit about his life before he lost his memory."

"By way of Chocolate Frog cards," explained Snape. "So far I've learned that I was bitten by a giant snake, was something called a Death Eater and killed the former headmaster. Yet everyone I have met seems genuinely glad to see me, leading me to believe you were all part of my evil minions."

Harry stopped trying to hide his smile and laughed outright.

"Chocolate Frog cards, Harry?" Poppy's eyebrows almost rose into her hairline.

"I don't think he's seen yours yet," said Harry, winking.

"Oh good!" she said in mock relief. "I've always hated the picture on that thing—makes me look twenty years older."

"Actually," said Harry, shooting Severus a sidelong glance, "there's quite a bit we haven't discussed yet. I wanted to talk with a memory specialist first—I wasn't sure what we should tell Severus about his past, if telling him too much might somehow affect his recovery."

"More?" said Severus, looking curiously over at Harry.

"You're thinking along the right track," said Poppy, patting Harry on the arm and then, as if suddenly remembering that Harry himself had had a rough time of late, leaned in to kiss him on the cheek as well. "We're so glad you're joining us this year, Harry. You made the right decision—you did everything you possibly could for Ginny. Arthur and Molly will take excellent care of her while you're here."

Severus looked over at Harry curiously, but Minerva shook her head slightly, and he let the matter drop.

"Why don't we get started, then?" asked Poppy, reaching out to pull Severus by his forearm over toward a bed near her office in the back.

"My physician always explains procedures before 'getting started,'" protested Severus, but sitting on the bed she indicated nonetheless. "And I usually don't have an audience while being examined." He shot a quick, very Snape-like look at Harry and Minerva.

"She's just going to examine you with her wand," explained Harry.

Severus looked at the wand in her hand and for some reason, did not seem comforted by Harry's statement.

Harry smirked.

"You'll be fully dressed, Severus. She's going to use magic to scan you."

But Severus' attention was now focused on the quill and parchment Poppy had produced from her robes. The quill was spelled to record the results of her examination, and was hovering over the floating parchment close to her right elbow.

"You get used to it," commented Harry. He'd lived in the magical world more than 25 years now, and took quite for granted floating objects, absence of electricity, men in robes and flying broomsticks.

Poppy helped Severus recline on the bed and began her scan while the quill wrote quite busily at her side. Severus' gaze wavered between the wand and the quill and parchment, his eyes widening on occasion when various parts of his body seemed to glow.

"We're going to have to retrieve Severus' wand," said Poppy, looking significantly at Harry.

"They buried it," provided Severus, with a smirk. "Apparently, they buried my robes, my boots and my wand since they obviously didn't have me to bury."

"I was there, Severus," said Poppy softly, continuing her scan. "It's traditional to bury a wizard with his wand. The tomb is under a variety of protection spells placed by Minerva and Harry themselves. Fortunately, they are right here and can remove them." She looked over at Minerva and Harry, then back at Severus. "Would you feel comfortable staying here with me while I finish my examination and ask you a few questions while the Headmistress and Harry go retrieve your wand?"

At this point, Severus seemed resigned. He nodded distractedly, watching with obvious interest as his left forearm began to glow brightly. Had he looked up at the others in the room at that time, he would have seen that all of them seemed unusually interested in that particular part of his anatomy.

Harry broke his gaze away first.

"Right, better get to it. Minerva?"

"Why don't we meet you back in the Great Hall in an hour?" suggested Minerva. "I'll have the house elves send up tea and we'll alert Hermione to be there with the girls at that time."

As they left the hospital wing, Harry glanced back to see Severus' head glowing with an iridescent halo.

"No doubt that he still has his magic anyway," commented Minerva. "But do you think it wise to give his wand back to him at this point?"

"Poppy seems to think so, and she's the expert," he replied as they walked down the great marble staircase and out into the August sunshine. It took only a few minutes to walk down to the burial site. A small cemetery had been created around Dumbledore's tomb, holding the earthly remains of a number of those who lost their lives during the war. Harry stopped at the side by side graves of Remus and Tonks, conjuring a wreath of daisies and placing it against the single tombstone. His eyes moved over to Fred's grave and his face softened into a smile when he saw this month's adornment—a Muggle whoopee cushion. George visited regularly, always leaving something quite Fred-like instead of the traditional flowers. Earlier this year, he'd left a toilet seat.

Minerva was already standing at the base of the marble slab serving as memorial to Snape and covering the coffin containing his wand…and other things. Harry had resolutely prevented himself from thinking of those other things these past two days, but very soon would have to acknowledge what he had slipped into the coffin before it was sealed and interred.

She worked quickly to remove the protection charms which prevented anyone from defacing the gravesite or removing its contents. She nodded at Harry when she finished and he lifted his wand as well, reaching out to feel the spells he had placed twenty years ago, smiling to find them intact and effortlessly cancelling them. Feeling the spells he had placed as a 17-year-old brought back a certain longing for those childhood days. He smiled wryly; his childhood had ended that night on the Astronomy Tower…

When all the protection and preservation spells were undone, Harry and Minerva worked together to raise the marble slab, levitating it to the side and placing it gently on the ground. The plain wooden coffin, preserved beneath the protection spells, looked much the same as it had twenty years ago. Hagrid had made it from a recently fallen tree on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, hauled to his hut by his half-brother Grawp. Harry had marveled at the time at its raw simplicity and remembered running his hand over it before it was lowered into the ground. On that day, as on the day he thought he had watched Snape die, he had truly believed the man was dead.

Minerva raised the coffin easily with a levitation spell and placed it on top of the slab. She glanced over at Harry, who pocketed his wand and walked over to raise the hinged cover.

The black robes and cape lined the box, with a pair of worn black dragon-hide boots upright at the bottom and Snape's wand placed where his hands would have held it had there been a body to bury.

But Minerva's eyes were on the other two items in the casket, both of them resting in a pool of black cloth just above the wand.

"Harry?" she questioned. "Did you…?"

He nodded quickly. "I slipped them in when I closed it," he murmured, reaching in to pick up the two pieces of a torn photograph, one of them depicting his mother shortly before she died, the other showing a toddler Harry zipping around on a broom. He put the two pieces together. "I wanted him to remember both of us," he said, noting how much his daughter looked like his own mother, though everyone assumed she looked just like Ginny.

Minerva reached past him and picked up the second item, a sparkling glass vial. Twenty years inside a dark tomb and the gossamer threads still glowed as they had that day so long ago when they poured out of their host like his very life and blood. She held the glass up, instantly realizing what it was.

"I didn't want to say anything until we saw them," Harry said very quietly, taking the stoppered vial from her and clasping it tightly in his hand. "I've hardly been able to think of anything else since we found him—but I didn't know what we'd find when we opened the tomb. I didn't know how long they would last…."

Minerva's expression softened. "Not everyone would have kept these," she said. "I am sure some are quite painful."

He looked from Minerva down to his tightly clutched hand, opening it slightly to see the night-light glow of the still living threads of memories. Memories gifted to him by Severus Snape as he lay dying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, memories of his mother, their childhood, of Albus Dumbledore, of those months he spent as Headmaster, waiting for the end.

"Well, they weren't really mine, were they?" he asked. "I wanted to give something back, at least make a gesture…" He looked up at her thoughtfully. "That last year I spent here—the Headmaster showed me memories he'd gotten from a number of people, some of them were already dead. He kept them all in separate bottles and I didn't know if there was a secret to preserving them. When we buried these, I really thought Snape was dead. It never even occurred to me he'd need them again, even when I realized he could be alive."

"Don't berate yourself, Harry," said Minerva. She had reached into the tomb and gathered the perfectly preserved clothing, boots and wand and was now using her own wand to replace the coffin back into the ground. Together, she and Harry levitated the heavy marble slab back into place. "You hold hope in your hands—a chance for Severus to regain at least some of what he has lost."

Harry looked up at his old friend with an earnest look on his face.

"Do you think he's better off as he is now? Not remembering what he was?"

Minerva looked thoughtful. "He had a difficult life, Harry. But then again, so did you. Would you want to give up all those memories—both good and bad—for the chance to start all over with a clean slate?"

Harry shook his head. "You know I wouldn't, Minerva."

"Severus apparently didn't have a choice. He built a new life, even had a lovely—and quite precocious—daughter. No surprise there…" She smiled and shook her head slightly. "I would say the choice is his, but…" She replaced her own wand in her pocket and fingered Severus' dark wand, its handle worn as smooth as Harry's. Harry looked at it, realizing that Snape had disappeared at almost the same age Harry was now.

"But?" he asked, reminding Minerva to finish her thought.

"I do think Severus needs to hold his wand again," she said. "A wand chooses the wizard, you know. It's rather like an extension of our body and our magic. Recall what Severus did when he walked into the castle—how he headed toward the dungeon stairs. Perhaps holding his wand will evoke a similar reaction."

Harry carefully pocketed the vial of memories and turned back toward the marble slab, using his wand to straighten it minutely.

"Come Harry, let's go rescue Severus," said Minerva, placing her arm around Harry's waist and together they walked back to the castle.

Behind them, the inscription on the marble slab glinted in the late afternoon sun.

Severus Tobias Snape

1960-1998

"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage."