Epilogue: Nineteen Years Later

Author's Note: And so we come to the Epilogue and get a glimpse of how the story ended. The Right Guy ended up with the Right Girl and the Right Job, and they all lived Happily Ever After, which was the point of this entire exercise.

And thank you to all who've reviewed or commented on the list(s) that you have enjoyed my work. No sweeter praise can come to a writer.

BOLD text indicates excerpts quoted from "Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone" and/or "Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows".

~OoO~

Epilogue: Nineteen Years Later

Aboard the Hogwarts Express, approaching Hogsmeade Station

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

James Potter, oldest of his family and one of the fifth-year Gryffindor prefects, stood in the corridor outside the compartment in which he had ridden from King's Cross Station to Hogsmeade. Though he lived in Hogsmeade, he had chosen to go to London with his mum so he could ride the Hogwarts Express from London with his family and friends; he wanted to be with them when the train pulled into Hogsmeade station.

He counted heads automatically...there was slim, dark-haired Albus and vibrant, red-haired Lily, his younger siblings. Lily was starting her first year at Hogwarts. Next to them were two strawberry blonds...his cousins, third year Rose and first year Hugo Weasley, the son and daughter of his uncle Ron and aunt Lavender. Behind them were two sleek platinum blonds...Scorpius Malfoy and his very shy younger sister, Anastasia, who was another first year and a good friend of Lily's.

Where were...? Another compartment door opened behind him, and more students joined their group. James flashed a grin at his best friend, Aidan Snape...tall and rangy, like James himself, and one of the fifth-year Ravenclaw prefects. Aidan had his father's black hair, piercing black eyes, and low, resonant voice. Aidan's hair was curly, though, and he kept it cut ruthlessly short.

Aidan's twin, Minerva, slipped out of the compartment next. Short and slender like her mother, she also had curly black hair, which she wore plaited back in french braids. As brainy as her twin, Minerva had sorted into Gryffindor, which hadn't mattered much to James five years before, but meant a lot now.

James got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever Minerva looked at him or spoke to him. He found it maddening that she treated him only as a friend, laughing and joking and studying with him, when he wanted to lay his heart at her feet. She had refused his invitation to the Yule Ball last winter and gone with a group of her friends, instead. But he wasn't giving up.

James forced the memory of the Yule Ball out of his mind and looked around for the other two Snapes. Evermind was now standing with Albus and Scorpius, nagging them not to slouch and straightening their robes and ties for them. She had curly brown hair and amber eyes and, according to family legend, was every bit as bossy as her mum had been.

She, Albus, and Scorpius were inseparable. The Unholy Trio, as they'd been dubbed by Albus Dumbledore's portrait, (though he said it with a laughing twinkle in his eyes) were third-year Slytherins, and their parents despaired of them because they were always making mischief and getting in trouble even though they were all at the top of their class.

The compartment door behind him opened once more, and a tall, rangy first-year with curly brown hair stumbled out into the corridor, his height concealed by the stooped posture that a backpack full of books forced him to adopt. No one was taking any bets about which house Austen Snape would sort into.

James only hoped that Austen, his sister Lily, and cousin Hugo would sort into the same house, as the three of them were as close as Evermind, Albus and Scorpius.

On second thought, James almost pitied the head of their house, should they all sort into the same one.

By now, the train had stopped, and James and Aidan had shepherded their charges off the train and onto the platform.

The night air was cold enough to cause them all to shiver, though the first years' shivers were probably nerves and not cold.

Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students... "Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!"

A few of the students, whose parents worked at Hogwarts, recognized the voice as belonging to Rubeus Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher.

Hagrid's big, hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me...any more firs' years? Mind yer step now! Firs' years follow me!"

The first years followed Hagrid obediently, slipping and stumbling as they followed him down a steep, tree-lined path that seemed oddly damp. The trees had to be very thick, as the only light they could see was Hagrid's lamp.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Of course, for Lily, Austen and Hugo, it wasn't their first sight of Hogwarts, but it was the first time they had seen it as entering students, and they were as awestruck as the other firsties.

There was a loud "Oooooh"!

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.

Austen and Hugo scrambled into one of the boats, both of them reaching back to help Lily over the side. She plopped down in the middle seat, Hugo in front of her and Austen behind. The boat tipped again as a wispy blond first year wearing a necklace of large, bright, artificial sunflowers climbed in after them. They knew her by sight and greeted her with waves and smiles.

"Hey, Ophelia, we forgot you would be here, too. What house do you think you'll be sorted into?"

Ophelia Longbottom smiled and fingered her garish necklace.

"Probably Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. I don't think I would fit in well with Slytherin. Maybe Hufflepuff, though. I just hope there are no Nargles in the Sorting Hat. Mum told me to watch out for those."

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then...FORWARD!"

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Hagrid watched carefully as the students climbed out of the boats.

When he was satisfied that they were all safely on land, they followed his lamp up a steeply pitched path cut right into the rock on which the school had been built. This path opened out onto a smoothly cropped lawn, damp now in the night air.

Hagrid's lamp continued to bob before them, and they followed him up a a flight of stone steps to a huge, oak double door.

"Everyone here?"

Hagrid looked around at the new students, appearing to be counting them though they couldn't hear him saying anything out loud.

At last, he stepped up to the door and banged on it three times with his heavy fist. The first years closest to the door could hear an echo coming from the other side.

The door swung open at once.

A short, slender witch with curly, light brown hair, wearing robes of deep violet, stood there.

She didn't smile; her face had a very serious expression, and all of the first years decided that this was not someone they wanted annoyed at them.

"Here are the new firs' years, Professor Granger-Snape," said Hagrid.

Professor Granger-Snape smiled soberly at Hagrid and thanked him. "I'll escort them into the castle."

Not by expression or voice did she give any sign that her own son was in the group of first-year students.

She pulled the door wide open and ushered them in. The students stood in the entrance hall looking around with wide, staring eyes. It was such a big room that the whole of any one of their houses could have fit in it, possibly with room to spare.

Flaming torches lit the room, and they could see a huge marble staircase stretching upwards directly in front of therm.

Their shoes made tapping and shuffling sounds as they followed Professor Granger-Snape across the stone floor. There was an open door to their right, and they could hear a hum of conversation spilling out of the room. The rest of the school must already be present and seated, some of them realized.

Professor Granger-Snape held out her arm to usher the new students into a small, empty room that opened off the Great Hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

Professor Granger-Snape moved to stand at the front of the group, where everyone could see her.

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

She glanced at Ophelia Longbottom's necklace, and the first years thought she looked as though she might smile, but she mastered her expression and turned away with a swirl of violet robes, calling back over her shoulder, "You'll want to wait quietly, so you don't disturb the Headmaster's announcements."

None of the first years had anything to say. Most of them were children of former Hogwarts students and knew what houses their parents had been in, and how the Sorting took place. Instead of chattering, they spent the time looking around the room and, especially, looking at one another.

"What do you think our chances are of sorting into the same house?" Lily spoke in a whisper to Austen, Hugo and Ophelia.

"Austen and Ophelia are so brainy, they might sort into Ravenclaw, though Austen's dad was Slytherin and Ophelia's dad was Gryffindor. My mum and dad were both in Gryffindor, and so were both of your parents, Lily, and your mum, Austen. S'pose we could all end up in Gryffindor," said Hugo. He thought for a moment, and then added, "I don't think any of us will wind up in Hufflepuff."

"Well, wherever we are, it would be nice to be in the same house," whispered Ophelia. "My mum always said she liked Ravenclaw well enough, but it got a bit lonely."

"My dad said that Gryffindors looked after their own, even more than Slytherins did." Austen had spoken to his dad a great deal about the various houses at Hogwarts.

"Well, we'll know soon enough." Lily nodded her head decisively as she spoke, and no one felt like arguing with that.

Then something happened that made all the first years gasp.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance..."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor Granger-Snape had returned.

One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

The first years formed a line under the sharp eye of Professor Granger-Snape and followed her past loaded tables to the top of the Great Hall, where they stopped in front of the staff table, which was raised up on a dais about three feet high. Nearly the entire class was looking around for familiar faces, since the headmaster had decreed that parents could be present in the Great Hall for the sorting if they had a new student starting at Hogwarts.

The four Snape children had actually been born at Hogwarts and had grown up here. The Potters had lived in London when they were young, until their dad was hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, and their mum became the school's Mediwitch.

Ophelia Longbottom's dad was Professor of Herbology, and her mum was the Charms mistress, so she, too, had grown up at Hogwarts.

Only the Weasleys and the Malfoys hadn't ever lived at Hogwarts, but Ron and Lavender Weasley and Draco and Astoria Malfoy were seated at the back of the hall at the long table for visitors.

Professor Granger-Snape was moving up to the head of the hall now, carrying a stool and a tall, worn, old hat.

This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.

The huge room was empty for a moment, and then the Hat began to sing.

None of the first years could follow it very well, as they grew more and more nervous with each passing moment. The whole hall applauded when the hat finished, and Professor Granger-Snape stepped forward, a long scroll in her hands.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said.

She began to call names and, each in turn, the child whose name was called came forward and took the hat, placed it on his or her head, and sat down.

The hat Sorted them fast, and before any of them were ready, Ophelia Longbottom's name was called. She trembled as she placed the hat on her head and sat down.

"Hmmm, mum was Ravenclaw and dad was Gryffindor. The brains are here; you're every bit as smart as your mum. But your dad's people have been in Gryffindor for a long time. Make it Gryffindor; you'll find your true self in red and gold."

Blushing, Ophelia glanced at the High Table, where her mum and dad both sat, cheering. With a tiny wave in their direction, she went to the Gryffindor table and sat down.

Anastasia Malfoy was next and it didn't surprise anyone when she sorted into Slytherin. She was warmly welcomed at the Slytherin table by a Malfoy, a Potter and a Snape. Looking back at the visitor's table, she saw her dad smile a tiny smile and then give her a wink, and she relaxed into her seat. She was with friends, and her dad and mum were happy. One ordeal was over.

"Lily Potter," called out Professor Granger-Snape, and the redhead anxiously took the hat and placed it on her head. She'd barely sat down when the hat called out "Gryffindor, for sure!" and Lily escaped to the Gryffindor table, sitting next to Ophelia. She grinned at her brother, James, who sat with the other fifth years, nearer the back of the Great Hall.

More students were sorted, kids they didn't know. In the nearly twenty years since the final battle of the Second Voldemort War (as the history books called it), attendance at Hogwarts had risen every year, and the closing of Durmstrang meant a lot of European children were coming now to Hogwarts.

"Austen Snape." The Great Hall grew silent as the headmaster's son made his way to the stool and took the hat. Austen felt very relaxed. He knew that whichever house he sorted into, he would find friends and support. He took a longer view of things and knew that once he graduated from school, there was a whole big wizarding world out there, containing people who'd never heard of Hgwarts or its houses.

The Sorting Hat was quiet for several minutes, listening to his thoughts, and then it seemed to smile as it announced: "Gryffindor for you, young man. Only in that house will your true worth be revealed."

As he slipped off the stool, he glanced to his mum, who maintained a solemn expression on her face, but winked as she turned her back to the Great Hall to exchange a knowing glance with his dad, who sat in a magnificent chair in the center of the teacher's table, the place of honor for the headmaster of the school.

When Austen had seated himself beside Ophelia and Lily, he looked up at his dad, who didn't smile or wink, but who inclined his dark head in his son's direction. Austen could tell that it was a nod of approval.

This year, Hugo was the last to be sorted. When he sat down with the hat on his head, it chuckled. "Yet another Weasley. Well, well, well. I bet you're expecting to be sorted into Gryffindor, aren't you? I have a surprise for you, young Hugo Weasley. You belong in Slytherin!"

Professor Granger-Snape's jaw dropped when she heard the hat name Slytherin as Hugo's house, and a ripple of amusement ran round the Great Hall.

Face flushed red, but smiling, Hugo Weasley got off the stool and went to sit next to his cousin, Albus, at the Slytherin table.

Professor Granger-Snape looked back at the visitor's table to see Ron Weasley sitting beside his wife with his mouth open in shock, while his brother George punched him in the shoulder and laughed.

And as Professor Granger-Snape moved the stool away, Professor Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, got to his feet.

The years had been kind to him. He was as tall and lean as ever, and he seemed to radiate power, carefully contained though it might be. His black eyes were as piercing as ever, and when he spoke, his voice was the same velvet baritone that many of the parents remembered from their student days. He was dressed in robes of classic black and still wore a many-buttoned frock coat and black trousers under his robes. Some things didn't change, after all. Some things didn't need to change.

He didn't smile as he addressed the students, (not that anyone expected him to break into a grin) but they all watched him with rapt attention. This man was a war hero; all of the students knew the role he'd played in the downfall of He-Who-Had-Once-Been-Tom-Riddle.

"And so another year begins. To those of you returning, welcome back. To those who are new, welcome. Your Heads of House will explain the rules to you, and your prefects will guide you and help you find your way about the school. I congratulate each of you on the house you have been sorted into. As Professor Granger-Snape explained to you, your house will be your home here at Hogwarts. I hope you will find that your housemates become as close as family to you. But I also urge you to look beyond the boundaries of your own house and take every opportunity to make friends outside of it. Your seven years at Hogwarts are the beginning of your magical education, but there is a big world beyond Hogwarts. Your friendships, as well as your education, are part of the foundation of your adult life."

Headmaster Snape looked over to his wife and nodded. Then his gaze ranged over the hall, from the students at the four house tables, to the teachers, seated at the High Table, and finally, to the parents seated at the back of the Great Hall.

Last, he looked around at the magnificent Great Hall itself, remembering it as he had seen it at the end of the final battle.

The castle had recovered from the damages inflicted on it. Glass had been replaced, the scorch marks of spellflash were scrubbed away, and the broken stones had been repaired. Hogwarts was whole again. More than that, hearts had healed, and old rivalries had been put to rest.

Professor Snape looked around the school he loved, the people he loved, and his stern mouth quirked up in the barest suggestion of a smile.

"A few last words before we partake of our excellent feast, prepared for us by our wonderful house-elves." This with a teasing glance at his wife, who had avidly campaigned for the rights of house-elves during her own Hogwarts years.

"You are here to learn the subtle and varied disciplines of magic, which you will use throughout your lives. You will almost certainly discover gifts and talents which you had no idea that you possess. Those gifts and talents may lead you to your life's work. As important as these things are, remember that your relationships with your family and friends are far more important than any academic course of study. And remember that your ability to see, and to choose, what is right over what is easy is the most important lesson of all."

He paused and his eyes took on a far-away look for a moment. He looked over at his wife again, nodded, and waved his wand in a small circle.

"Now, let the feast begin."

Professor Snape went to his place at the High Table, and by magic, literally, the food appeared on the tables.

As everyone began to eat, and the Great Hall filled with the buzz of conversation, an old wizard with a long silver beard and half-moon spectacles smiled fondly down from his portrait over the High Table at the scene before him.

At the High Table itself, Professor Harry Potter turned to look at his wife, Madam Ginny Potter. She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Well, that was certainly a surprise about Hugo," she said. "I can't even imagine what my mum and dad are going to say."

Harry laughed.

"Your mum will just tell him, 'That's lovely, dear. Remember to wear your sweater when it's cold, and send an owl as often as you can. You know we want to hear from our grandkids.'"

"Yes, and my dad will ask them if they plan to take Muggle Studies."

Her voice was rich with amusement. She looked at her husband carefully, brushing back his unruly black hair to reveal the thin scar, shaped like a lightning bolt, which could still be seen in the center of his forehead.

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

~ Finite incantatem ~