Chapter Thirty-One: Life regnant

Chapter Thirty-One: Life regnant

28 – 31 May 1998; 26 May 1998; 5 January 1997

Severus began to tremble even before Minerva had closed the door behind her. Robbie not who he appeared to be . . . falsified death certificate . . . someone who had lived unexpectedly . . . Severus refused to think any further. The conclusion was impossible. But he remembered his vision of Death, blue-eyed and smiling, so very like someone else . . .

There was a light knock, but Severus simply fell back against his pillows and closed his eyes. A few seconds passed, then the door opened slowly. Severus lay still and heard the door click closed again. Tentative footsteps came closer.

"Severus." His name was a whisper accompanied by a gentle touch to his forehead. "Severus, my dear boy."

Tears leaked from his eyes as he opened them. "Albus?" But Severus did not need to ask; he was there beside his bed. "How?" He took Albus's right wrist. "And your hand?"

"It is a very long story, Severus, and it begins with a very stubborn wizard and an even more stubborn witch."

Severus sat up and touched Albus's face as if to feel his reality. "I don't understand. At all. The tomb. Your body. You died. We mourned you. Gods, we mourned you!"

"I know, and I cannot tell you how painful it was to see you all mourn, especially you, my boy," Albus said softly, his hand resting on Severus's left shoulder. "It was difficult but necessary. Difficult in many, many ways, not least of which was causing you grief."

"But you did," Severus said, his anger bubbling up above his other many emotions. "You did."

"I know," Albus repeated. "I really had decided to allow the curse to take me, to stop all potions and hope to die soon enough that Draco's task would become moot and your Vow with it. Neither Minerva nor I wanted you to die because you wouldn't fulfill the Vow and kill me. There were few options. I saw only one that would allow you to survive. Minerva saw another. I was difficult to persuade and wouldn't listen to her when she tried to get me to think about a different solution, and when I wouldn't, she took matters into her own hands, first consulting with Melina and Murdoch, then working out many of the details without me. I was unreasonable and intransigent. When it came time to involve me, I refused to cooperate, so she took action." Albus held out his hand and stretched his fingers. "It has been long since it has been afflicted by the curse, and almost as long since I had to replicate its most obvious effect, but I can show you how I did that."

Severus watched as Albus's hand gradually turned charcoal black and withered. "Not a Glamour?"

"No. Someone would notice a Glamour. Filius certainly would, Poppy would eventually, and you might detect it, too, no matter how strong the charm."

Albus grimaced but said nothing as Severus took hold of his hand and turned it over, examining it.

Severus looked up. "It hurts?"

"Not as much as when it was actually cursed, but yes, it does," Albus replied.

Severus released the shrivelled hand.

"It is an internal Transfiguration," Albus explained, pausing a moment to concentrate and return his hand to its ordinary state. "That type of Transfiguration you showed some interest in whilst you were ill. Minerva removed the journal from your room." Albus twitched a smile. "She was unhappy with me for having left it there; claimed I'd done so on purpose. I hadn't, at least not consciously, but she was afraid that if you read the article and had time to think about it after you felt better, you might realise there was a way I could have simulated the curse, and that might lead you to have other suspicions. I didn't think that likely, but she made the decisions about such things."

"I don't know . . . Hermione explained more to me about internal Transfiguration, but I had no reason to suspect," Severus said slowly. Or had he? So many little things, inconsequential on their own, now seemed to take on new meaning. Even Minerva's "affair" with Robbie. Everyone had found it surprising, whether they had known of her relationship with Albus or not. He felt some relief to realise that Minerva hadn't been inconstant and so quick to move on as she had appeared to be, nor had she taken up with a married man. "Who knew?" he asked. "Did anyone find out?" Was he the only one so dim not to notice that the Headmistress's lover and the Hogwarts Defence teacher was actually Albus Dumbledore?

"Here at Hogwarts, only Minerva and Alroy knew that Robbie Crouch and Albus Dumbledore were one and the same. Alroy knew we had faked my death, of course, but beyond that, he knew relatively little about the overall plan or how we did it. He's Robert's cousin; he would have known within days, if not sooner, that I wasn't really Robert. In fact, it was one reason we hired him to teach Transfiguration this year. One more person to add to the verisimilitude of my new identity. Others had met me, er, Robert, over the years, but there was no one else at Hogwarts who had known him well. In order to lessen the confusion among those who were aware of the deception, I became known as 'Robbie' rather than 'Robert.' Only his mother ever calls Robert by that nickname. As to whether anyone found out . . ." Albus hesitated. "There was one here at Hogwarts who deduced it, and then only two others we know of who might have figured it out. Egeria seems to have, although she's said nothing. She was completely unsurprised when Melina told her, however.

"We hadn't told my brother Aberforth. I wished to, but Minerva vetoed the idea. Because of his position and his relationship to me, there was always the possibility that he might be kidnapped or otherwise compromised. Aberforth is fairly adept at throwing off the Imperio, but not unfailingly, and his Occlumency skills are rudimentary. So Minerva convinced me that we should not tell Aberforth the entire truth."

"What did you tell him, then? And did he figure it out?"

"I changed my will to bequeath everything to Minerva but a few minor charitable gifts. Since I had never cut my brother out of my will in the past, that required some explanation," Albus said. "I went and spoke with him in late January and explained that because of certain circumstances to do with the war, I was changing my will. I told him how I was changing it, then gave him a small sum of money and arranged to have certain family items transferred from my home to his. He was curious, but as he has never been grasping and I have never been ungenerous, he was happy enough to receive the family heirlooms before my demise rather than after. If after my death, he thought of any other items he might like, he only had to tell Minerva. I also told him that whatever Minerva might choose to do after my death, he was to assume that it was all with my approval. He promised me that if she ever asked him for his help, he'd give it to her. Anyway, Aberforth claims he became suspicious about my death. When I visited him about a month ago and revealed myself to him, he was only slightly surprised, and he said that he'd guessed I might be masquerading as Robbie."

"He's your brother, though, and you had warned him that appearances might be deceiving," Severus said. "He knows you well."

"Yes, well, he was also not particularly happy to have been included among those who were deceived. He nonetheless agreed to help you and to provide a safe place for you until Hogwarts was secure."

"That's why he closed the Hog's Head a few weeks ago," Severus said.

"He thought it a prudent measure in any case," Albus replied, "but yes, that is why he closed the Hog's Head when he did."

"Who else knew? Melina and her father," Severus said, "but what of the Order?"

"We didn't involve the Order directly, though there were some who performed tasks without realising they were a part of a greater plan. Obviously Robert Crouch had to know. At first, he was simply enlisted by Minerva to help with the Potions work, but we needed someone for me to 'become,' someone who would be both known and unknown. Murdoch offered himself," Albus said with a chuckle, "but Minerva quashed that idea quickly. Not only is he known to a number of the staff here and impersonating him believably for months would be difficult, but as he is Minerva's brother, she found the idea of my looking like him quite nauseating, no matter that she would know that it was really me. It would also have affected our public interactions. We briefly considered Alroy, but again, too many people knew him and many of the staff had taught him. At one point, we even thought of Aberforth, and I believe he would have been willing, but the role that we would need the wizard...me...to take at Hogwarts would not be credible for him, though I believed I could impersonate him effectively. We quickly settled on Robert. He wasn't a complete stranger, but very few people at Hogwarts...or in Britain...had more than a superficial acquaintance with him. I've known him since he was born and thought I could convincingly impersonate him, at least among people who didn't know him well. I prepared by viewing many of Robert's memories in the Pensieve, learning more about him, how he moved and spoke, and, while he was at Hogwarts in February and March, reviewing each day's memories so that he wouldn't have a conversation with someone that I would later not remember."

"You planned this for months," Severus said flatly.

"Yes. Almost since you first told Minerva about the curse and the Vow. It gave us time to prepare and time for me to weaken and die."

"You did not die," Severus pointed out.

"No, not precisely. But I did sicken. We . . . for lack of a better description, I shall say that I poisoned myself over the course of almost three months, very, very cautiously. By the time the appointed hour arrived, I really did feel rather wretched. Melina carefully monitored me, but she still worried constantly that I would be too physically weakened to be able to be revived..."

"Revived? You did die?" He was confused.

"Oh, yes, my boy, I died. Not all of the way, obviously, or I would not be here now...or I would be some dreadful creature with only a semblance of life. But surely you are aware that in Muggle hospitals every day, people are resuscitated after having apparently died. This was no different." Albus quirked a smile. "There's dead-but-revivable and completely dead, I suppose. I was sufficiently dead so that if no measures had been taken to resuscitate me and more time had passed, I would have become completely dead. I wasn't so dead that I couldn't be resuscitated...Melina insists on the word 'resuscitated,' by the way, if you speak to her about it. She says that the words 'revived' and 'revivified' have too many connotations of magical revivification using Dark Arts, and this is not anything like that." Albus blushed. "I'm afraid that I once was one of those who denied there was a meaningful difference, though fortunately, I never said it very loudly. She had her research denied and banned by the Ministry several years ago"

"She's the one who wanted to use Muggle methods to do something in Healing," Severus said with sudden realisation. "I hadn't noticed the name. O'Donald didn't hold much meaning for me until recently. She wanted to use Muggle methods for some reason...something to do with treating curses."

"She wanted to adapt the Muggle methods to stop and restart a patient's heart. She had already had great success in slowing a patient's metabolism, lowering his body temperature and whatnot, but using reliable magic rather than anything Muggle. But the Ministry decided that this new method of hers was too akin to the Dark Arts, no matter what use she made of it. I don't think they ever really read her research or her proposals. They just saw that she proposed killing a person then bringing them back to life a couple minutes later, and that sent them into a thought fog and they were incapable of understanding her proposal."

"Why did you oppose it?"

"Vague concerns. Some superstition, possibly, although I hope that wasn't all it was. Fear for how people might use it." Albus shrugged. "It's actually difficult for me to remember why I wasn't in favour of it, it seems so logical and benign to me now. I had no actual say in the Ministry's decision, though I could have exercised influence if I had wished. Fortunately, Melina simply travelled abroad to continue her research and refine her techniques, so by the time that Minerva approached her about it, she'd been successful with more than one hundred patients from around the world."

"Did she have any failures?" Severus asked, his curiosity overriding his other concerns.

"Several. Not all of them were because the patients died from the procedure. She was using the technique to allow her to treat curses using spells that can't be cast on a living person. Sometimes, merely having the person 'die' for a short time drives the curse from the body. There were occasions when she was unable to treat the curse and the person was no worse off than they had been. There were two cases, though, in which she was unable to resuscitate the patient afterward. In those cases, the curse would have killed them eventually. Not that Melina felt any better about it, but as she says, sometimes when a Muggle surgeon operates on a deadly disease, the operation kills the patient, but the Muggles don't stop operating and saving the thousands of lives they would otherwise lose."

"So you could have died." Oddly, Severus found that a comforting thought. He didn't know why.

"Oh, certainly! Minerva did the procedure, and she knew that she might really be killing me, but we believed it worth the risk and better than some of the alternative ends I could meet."

---

"Adsumo spiritus tuus! Arrestocordis!"

Melina touched the tip of her wand to the death certificate and waited a few seconds for the seal to glow, then she began to watch the Gryffindor book closely, waiting for Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to begin to fade from blue to grey. As the current Head of Gryffindor, Minerva's name was in scarlet. Between the two, Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank's name was the same bright blue as Albus's. All the other names were grey.

Melina blinked. She wasn't sure, but she thought the ink seemed less vibrant; she felt as though she had been staring at it for an eternity, though, and might be imagining it. She blinked again. Perhaps it wasn't quite as blue as Grubbly-Plank's name, but it wasn't grey. She took a second to glance up at Minerva, who was still kneeling beside Albus, her left hand flat against his chest, his yew wand trapped beneath it, and her own wand in her right hand, its tip still lightly resting just over his heart. Her face was a mask of concentration, and when Robert said, "Three minutes," she did not move.

Albus's name was still blue, but Melina was certain now that it was a duller blue than it had been. She stared and blinked and stared, willing the letters to turn grey.

"Four minutes."

Melina swallowed. She had never gone that long with a patient before. There was still little danger, and when she had cast the spells to clear Albus's lungs, she had cast one to keep the oxygenation of his brain from falling as fast as it normally would when his blood stopped circulating. Under ideal conditions, Melina believed she could probably resuscitate someone after fifteen or twenty minutes; but that was in theory, nothing she would ever want to test, and these were far from ideal conditions.

Robert's voice was steady. "Four and a half."

Minerva did not move. Melina continued to stare at the book. The letters had faded a little more, but were still clearly blue and not grey.

"Four forty-five."

The seconds ticked by, and Melina could feel the sweat trickling down the back of her neck. Still blue. She hated blue.

"Five," Robert said.

Melina looked up, but Minerva did not move, though it seemed her right hand trembled.

"Five, Minerva!" Melina said.

"His name?" Minerva asked softly.

"Not grey."

"Five and twenty seconds," Robert said, his voice growing slightly agitated. "Five and twenty-five. . . Thirty. . . Thirty-five. . ."

Melina held her breath. Just as Robert announced, "Forty," Melina cried out, "It's grey! Now, Minerva!"

Minerva didn't even wait for Melina to finish speaking. "Tua anima spiro! Animarecordis et vivere!"

Immediately, there was a loud, gasping breath, then another as Albus's body jerked upward in the flash of the final spell. Melina leapt to her feet, letting the Gryffindor book fall to the floor as Minerva moved off the bed to give her room.

Robert's wand was out already, and as Albus opened his eyes, the younger wizard said, "Te adopto et nomino Robert Crouch." A soft yellow light drifted over Albus.

Melina didn't pay any attention to the truncated magical adoption. She cast one diagnostic, then rapidly followed with a few supportive spells. Albus was blinking and he turned his head to the left, looking for Minerva.

"Albus, how do you feel?" Melina asked.

"Impatient to see Minerva," he whispered. He raised one hand to weakly urge Melina aside.

"In a moment." She cast further diagnostic spells to check the condition of his heart muscle and to analyse his blood, and multicoloured symbols began to float above him.

Minerva moved to the other side of the bed as Melina switched her focus to examining his magical energy.

Albus's eyes found Minerva's. "You cast the Adsumo," he said, his voice slightly roughened.

Minerva nodded. "And released it successfully, as I assume you can tell."

"I think I could feel that," Albus said. "I don't remember much . . . I heard Melina cast the spell to put me to sleep, and then . . . there was comfort, like a nest of light and warmth. I remember seeming to see . . . something very bright, but I looked away . . . the nest was comfortable . . . an embrace I didn't want to leave."

Melina paused. "Some of my patients report seeing a bright light, sometimes with figures behind it, and they feel a pull toward it. The longer I keep their hearts still, the more likely they are to say they see it, and the longer they are in cardiac arrest, the greater the pull toward the light is. I think it is an artifact of the procedure, something manufactured by the brain after the heart stops sending it fresh, oxygenated blood, but you were in cardiac arrest longer than any of my patients, and yet you are the first to say he did not feel any pull toward the light."

Albus smiled slightly as he looked up at Minerva. "Not yet," he whispered.

Minerva began to cry, her tears seeming to come from nowhere, and she rested her head on his chest as Albus caressed her hair. Melina reached over and patted Minerva's shoulder.

"You did very well, Auntie Min, very well," Melina said softly. "She was perfect, Albus."

"I've always thought so," he said.

"It's time for you to play dead now, though, Albus," Melina said as she took Draught of Living Death from the pocket of her robe. "It's past quarter to six. We have to hurry. We have to let the others catch a glimpse of you now, and then we can bring you around, do a few more tests, get you to the other rooms, and then roll out your corpse and put the finishing touches on it." She looked over at Robert. "You'll have to bring him. I don't think he can stand on his own, let alone use the Floo."

---

"Minerva did it, not Melina?" Severus asked in surprise.

Albus nodded. "She wanted any responsibility to rest with her if I did die, for one, but Melina also believed that because of Minerva's familiarity with my body and my magic, she would have a better chance of successfully resuscitating me even after the longer period of, um, death that would be required to create the effects we needed. We didn't simply want a few people to think that I was dead and have the rumour spread and be believed. We needed the fact of my death to be indisputable. By doing this procedure, there were certain magical effects that essentially declared me dead to the wizarding world. In fact, there is some doubt about my legal status, but I am sure that will be cleared up easily. Robert has already given me my name back."

"Given you your name . . ."

"You know about Potter's map, and I assume that you have seen the Headmaster's, er, Headmistress's parchments. I couldn't very well turn up on those or any other similar Charmed lists as A. Dumbledore. Robert and Minerva worked with her niece Branwen, who is an expert on archaic spells, to create a shortened form of the ancient magical adoption ritual, the type that used to be used to adopt adults into a family or clan. Since all we wanted to do was give me a new name and Robert already felt a tie of kinship toward me, it wasn't very difficult for them."

"So Branwen knows, too." Severus vaguely remembered black-haired Branwen; her twin sister Morgana had been a couple years ahead of him in Slytherin. He hadn't known either of them well. Branwen had been a Ravenclaw, and Morgana had had little to do with most of the other Slytherins, particularly those who were future Death Eaters, and he'd had nothing to do with most other students, unless they were future Death Eaters, with only a few exceptions. Only one exception, actually. He pushed those thoughts aside. "How many people knew?"

"Branwen didn't know what the research was for. She may have suspected something peculiar was going on at Hogwarts, but she never had any opportunity to see either of us after the funeral...which wasn't unusual. She has her own career and family to occupy her mind and her time," Albus said. "There really were very few people who knew. A bare handful, Severus. And if we could have told you without endangering your life...or your status...we would have trusted you. We simply couldn't. My own brother didn't know. We didn't tell Minerva's mother until a few weeks ago. We couldn't tell them or anyone until it was important for them to know."

Severus was frowning, but he nodded. "You said someone else here deduced your identity. Who?" How much of a fool had he been?

"Filius," Albus said. "I was afraid . . . there was a moment when there was an expression in his eyes, one of startled recognition, I suppose you might call it. I had been demonstrating a charm, and there must have been something in what I did or how it felt . . . he looked surprised. But then he moved on to another topic, and I forgot about it. He didn't. Over the next few months, he watched me, and he watched Minerva with me, and he says that by Christmas, he was convinced that Robbie was me and not Robert Crouch. He never told a soul, though. I think he was afraid of a strong, mind-damaging Obliviate from someone in the Order, since he assumed the Order was behind it, and he also didn't want to let the cat out of the bag, as he put it. He thought that anything requiring such a huge deception must be very important."

"He cried, though. When he came back from photographing your corpse and fixing the tomb. He was crying."

"It was a very good facsimile, as you probably remember," Albus said softly, "and Filius is a very sensitive soul. Minerva even had a hard time looking at the . . . the remains that morning, and she knew it wasn't my corpse. She had helped create it."

Severus snorted. "Creating a convincing corpse would be beyond her abilities, she told me. I wanted to have Kreacher go into hiding and have his corpse found, and she said it was too difficult." He shook his head. "I have been a fool. I have been continually played the fool. And I never questioned any of it. I was angry that she had taken up with Robbie...I hated him for a while. But I never questioned his identity...or to the extent that I did, I thought he might be a disguised Death Eater or some other person with nefarious motivations. I even asked Poppy about it...did she know? Was she laughing at me when I asked her if Robbie could be an imposter?"

"You have not been a fool, Severus. And no, Poppy didn't know until Sunday. We told her then because we knew that the battle was coming and more people would need to know, particularly if anything went wrong with our plans. But we also knew that the tomb would be opened the next morning, and if someone other than one of us examined the corpse too closely, it could become obvious that it was a fake. So Poppy examined it when the Aurors arrived and gave them her findings...nothing out of the ordinary, just a slowly decomposing corpse, and the corpse hadn't been disturbed, only moved."

"You're the phoenix," Severus suddenly said. "Trelawney's phoenix. That nonsense about burning, dying, and living."

"We believe it was meant to refer to me, yes," Albus said. "And you were one of the snakes. It was that prophecy combined with your description of Tom's recently favoured method of execution that made us decide to have the antivenin potion created and to train Hermione in the Prospirator. We thought it likely that she was the lioness. Or that she could become the lioness if we managed things properly. Minerva and Vector, as Gryffindors, were also trained, and there were five of us here at Hogwarts who spent about three weeks carrying a specially designed Potions kit twenty-four hours a day. Poppy is a Hufflepuff, but we thought it was sensible that she have one, and although I'm not female, I am a Gryffindor and I planned to be with Hermione, so Poppy and I each got one, as well. Egeria...who, incidentally, is also a Gryffindor...was waiting for you and Hermione when you arrived at the Hog's Head. Hermione did almost all of the Prospirator work for you, but she had to take an occasional break, and Egeria breathed for you at those times."

"Trelawney said 'a snake dies.' I don't remember the entire prophecy, but I do remember that clearly. How did you know it wouldn't be me?"

"Because, my dearest boy, we weren't going to let it be you," Albus replied, tears entering his eyes. "Saving your life occupied almost as much of Minerva's attention...and mine...as the defence of Hogwarts and the defeat of Riddle. She always repeated that it was better that any of us die individually than for Riddle to have victory, but I knew that she ached for you to live. And there in the Shack, watching you..." Unable to continue, Albus stopped, closing his eyes and turning his head away.

He took a shuddering breath and swallowed. "It was good that Hermione was there with me. She doesn't know it, but she was holding me back as much I was holding her. If she had not been present, I would have cast aside all caution and simply attacked and tried to stop them, tried to take you away. It would have been disastrous, I am certain. Even if I had managed to get you out, the surprise of my survival and of your betrayal would have been gone and Riddle would have been wary, perhaps to the point of abandoning his plan to attack Hogwarts. But in any moment of Gryffindor recklessness, of which even I am occasionally guilty, I would never have risked Hermione's life as well as my own. And so we waited until Riddle Disapparated. I took care of the Death Eaters as Hermione dispatched Nagini, then she immediately went to you. And we were not too late to save you." He let out a long sigh. "It would have been a blow to have lost you after all we had accomplished. I continually reminded Minerva that all our plans could be for naught and you could still die, and yet it was too painful to believe that we wouldn't. My hope that you would survive was as great as hers, but my fear that we would fail was greater."

Severus looked down, his own tears beginning to gather again. "I understand why you did what you did and why you never told me, but did it have to be so difficult? Did you have to meet with me as you did? And giving those gifts at the end . . . why the drama, Albus? More 'verisimilitude'?" he asked scornfully, trying to hide his pain. It hurt. It all hurt. "Or just for the fun of it? For your amusement?"

"No," Albus whispered. "I really did feel as though I might die, and I certainly felt as though I was taking leave of you all. Perhaps it was selfish of me, but I did what I would have wanted to do under those circumstances if I really were dying. And if I had died, either last spring or in the battle or at any time in between, I wanted to know that I had taken my leave of you, and of you especially, Severus. Nothing I said to you was a lie. I love you, I was and am proud of you, and I did not want to leave you without telling you that." Albus took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. "I also knew that you would have many difficult months ahead of you. I hoped that remembering that I am proud of you and have faith in you would help you to get through them. I'm sorry if that seems hurtful and selfish to you now."

"And Minerva," Severus said, his anger not abating despite Albus's words, though tears welled in his own eyes. "For months, she acted as though she blamed me for your death, as though she could scarcely bear having me in the castle with her..."

"Surely it wasn't that bad..."

"Oh, she was pleasant enough at times, perfectly collegial, but any friendship I had ever felt from her seemed to be gone...she punished me, Albus, and you did, too, and she knew you lived, she knew it was all a charade. I took her punishment and added to it. I thought I deserved it. I thought I deserved worse." Severus made no effort to modulate his voice.

Albus nodded. "I know. And we can never know if she should have done otherwise," he said softly, "but it was hard on her. You know how you felt, and perhaps it isn't possible for you to understand how she felt, but she has always cared for you. Her anger with you about the Vow burned out very quickly. By the time we began to implement her plan, she had all but forgotten it. One of her primary goals, after all, was to save you...to save you from having to kill me, to save you from the isolation that fulfilling the Vow would have brought you, and to save your life in the end, if possible. She had to force herself to behave coolly toward you. It may seem to you as though she did it easily, but she didn't. She was often in tears because of the stress she was under, and much of that stress came from having to behave toward you as she did. She already had to lie to almost everyone she knew, but she had to make a lie of your entire friendship. She hated causing you pain and guilt. It hurt her terribly. Finally one night when she was feeling particularly alone and burdened, I recommended that it was time for her to begin to treat you more warmly. It was a month or so earlier than in our original plan, but I couldn't see how it would benefit either of you...or our plan...to continue with the rift, particularly when it caused her so much distress."

Severus's mind flew back to the encounter he had witnessed in the library in early January. How very much he had misunderstood that scene, and yet he could have understood it better if he had given it some thought; it was clear that it was on that night that Minerva began to treat him more as she used to. She had even given him a kiss before he left her office, far different from her previous distantly polite dismissals. He could easily believe that Minerva had suffered, pretending as she had; weeks before, she had admitted to him that her treatment of him had been a calculated act on her part. It was certainly better than being believed to be Dumbledore's murderer. He'd understood it before he had known that Albus was alive; it should be no different now. And Minerva had become a friend to him again...more than that, she had helped him to survive over the last few months. She had strengthened him. And her tears in the library . . . she had mentioned him specifically as she wept in Robbie's arms.

That memory raised a question in his mind. "You and Minerva, that is, Robbie and Minerva, seemed very close. From about September or so, and the way you would look at her . . . but you and she . . ." Severus thought a moment. "You were so often together, seemingly inseparable, but I don't remember thinking that you, hmm, occupied the same rooms until sometime after the winter holidays. It's none of my business, but there was a change, she became more demonstrative . . . was it strategy? Trying to make Minerva's affair with you seem more natural and less sudden?"

Albus hesitated slightly. "Actually, we had no strategy in that regard. Aside from the fact that Minerva did not want me to walk about in her brother's likeness for months, it was something that we had very foolishly overlooked, as incredible as that may sound. The reality of our domestic situation struck us once I began to recover and was Polyjuicing myself daily. In those first days, I was too still weak to use the Polyjuice and appear in public more than a few hours at a time. I would retire to those warded rooms that you and Minerva used during the Adfectus, then allow the Polyjuice to wear off and spend most of my time sleeping, reading, and eating. Fortunately, my death occurred early on a Friday, Robert remained in the castle until Saturday, and I attended my first meal as him on Sunday. Then the funeral was on Monday, classes were cancelled on Tuesday, and Minerva explained my absence on Wednesday by saying that I had personal business to attend to.

"After I began teaching, I couldn't remain absent so long or so frequently, though. Once I was well enough to use the Polyjuice continually, it was important that I do so. I had a long-acting formula and a patch containing a potion that prolonged the Polyjuice further; that meant that I could go nine or ten hours between doses. We had to do all we could to minimise the risk that someone would see or hear something peculiar. Minerva, Melina, and Alroy...any of those who knew...never addressed me or referred to me as anything other than Robbie. It had to become habit, something automatic. There could be no slips of the tongue. I was Robbie. I had to learn to refer to Albus Dumbledore entirely in the third person, as someone completely separate from me. That was more difficult than you might imagine.

"What was hardest, though . . . you know that Minerva and I were together for many years. In the spring, we did occasionally find time to be alone in those warded rooms without the Polyjuice. At first we didn't have an antidote to the Polyjuice, so I would simply wait for it to wear off, which meant very careful timing. Minerva would join me later, which allowed her to maintain the mental separation between me as Albus and me as Robbie. Over the summer, we spent quite a bit of time like that in those rooms...often just reading together, playing chess, or discussing the school and the war. But doing that created other pressures and strains, particularly once the new school year began and I was Robbie continually. The first few times we had any, um, private time when I was Polyjuiced, it was strangely awkward. We made the room dark." Albus blushed. "She'd found that she was comforted when I was nearby, though. She could still sense that I am who I am. My magic hadn't changed, and she has always been sensitive to it. Fortunately, we did become accustomed to the charade and my new appearance, though not as quickly as we might have if we had done things differently from the beginning. I became used to it and to my new identity more quickly than she did; in fact, I found it rather freeing not to be Albus Dumbledore any longer, even if becoming Robbie took some effort."

"Robbie was with Minerva more than you ever used to be. Robbie always seemed to follow her about," Severus said. It had seemed strange and sinister to him, and it still seemed odd.

Albus chuckled. "Yes, you would call me 'her shadow.' It was important to me that she knew that I was following her, and not simply so she could feel my presence, but more metaphorically. Minerva is a very strong witch, but she had been paired with a much older, more powerful wizard for most of her life. When I was alive, I mean, before I was Robbie..." Albus looked confused for a moment. "Sometimes, people would notice Albus Dumbledore in a room even when it was Minerva who should have had their attention. She deserved her opportunity to finally have her recognition, but more than that, to exercise all of her abilities. She needed to not only have the title of Headmistress and to know that she was in charge of the school and our plan, but to feel that she truly was the one in the lead. I didn't want to overshadow her, even only in her own psyche. I wanted her to feel that I was truly in the background. It was not always the easiest thing for me to do, either, but I'm very proud of Minerva. Being with Robbie could allow her opportunities that being with Albus never could."

Severus looked at him for a moment. "You are as barmy as you ever were."

Albus laughed. "Barmier! Surely barmier!"

"If that is possible. And just as infuriating."

Albus smiled at him, a slight twinkle in his eye. "So are you going to kill me in good conscience now? You told me that you would if you discovered that I had misled you. Do you remember?"

Severus shook his head, his expression tight and drawn, unable to smile at the memory or appreciate its irony. "Do not mistake me, Albus. I do not wish you were dead. I understand that I couldn't have known you were alive all that time, and I understand why that knowledge was kept from me. But I still wish that my grief had actually been for a dead man or that I'd never survived to learn any differently. I wish I could be happier to see you." Tears came to his eyes again, but he blinked them back. "I know I would have been happy if you had been saved from death at the last minute. I don't know what I feel now."

"If you are angry, that would be understandable, Severus. If you are angry or upset with me, I don't love you any less."

"Stop using that word! Just stop it, Albus! Don't! Don't!" Severus turned away. His head was pounding and his throat was tight. "How can I feel anything of my own if you keep using that word!" he said hoarsely. "It makes me feel guilty for it, that word, guilty for anything I feel. Guilty and ungrateful."

"I won't say it again, then," Albus said softly. "But I am sorry, and I'll say that again someday when it may be less painful to hear." He reached down and pushed some of Severus's hair from his face, then touched his forehead and cheek. "You feel warm. I will get Madam Pomfrey for you."

Severus looked back up at him. "You're leaving?" It slipped out, and to his own ears, he sounded the pathetic child who had watched from his bedroom window as his father had left the house for the last time.

Albus squeezed his shoulder lightly. "No, not leaving. Just stepping out. And if you want to see me, or if you need to speak to me, just tell someone, and they'll find me for you."

Suddenly Severus reached up and grabbed Albus's arm and grasped it hard. "I don't know. I don't know what to feel or what to do."

"And that's all right for now." Albus looked down at the desperation and pain in Severus's eyes. "Just because I won't say it again," he whispered, "doesn't mean it's gone, you know. And I am just stepping out."

Severus held onto Albus and let go of himself, burying his face in the old wizard's bright blue robes. He had expected to die, but had lost his life even as he had survived his death. What should have been cause for joy now only gave him anguish, and he did not know who he was or why he felt as he did.

When Severus had calmed down, Albus touched his cheek again as he eased him back onto his pillows. Severus felt a cooling charm pass over his face, then there was a straw and fresh water at his lips.

"You still feel feverish," Albus said softly. "Drink some water and rest a bit. I'm going to get Poppy to look at you."

Severus opened his eyes.

"And you look fine," Albus added, "although Poppy wouldn't mind however you looked, you know."

Severus nodded. He felt little energy to spend on such concerns, but he knew that Poppy would understand. She'd seen him worse.

"Tell Minerva . . . tell her what I said in the Shrieking Shack. And I will be at her feast," he said in a low voice. "Because I am still her Deputy."

Albus smiled slightly. "Of course." He took a step back, then stopped and felt in his pocket. "Before I burned the Shrieking Shack, I found this. I thought you might like to have it back." He pulled out a small object and placed it on the bedside stand. "I'll send in Poppy."

Severus turned his head wearily. His knife. The flick knife that McGonagall had given him a lifetime ago.

---

Poppy cast one more spell before taking Severus's hand in one of hers and feeling for his pulse with the other. "Spells are all well and good," she said softly, "but feeling a patient's pulse and his magic, there's no substitute for that."

Severus didn't respond.

"I don't think your fever is anything for you to be concerned about," Poppy continued, "but I'd rather not treat it until a Healer has seen you. I want to be sure that I'm not masking anything more serious."

Severus closed his eyes.

"Some of it might simply be attributable to being upset. You're still recovering from Nagini's bite. Learning that Dumbledore didn't die was certainly a shock," she said.

"I am fine," Severus replied, opening his eyes. "It was unexpected. That's all."

"Then you are sturdier ill than I was well. When I saw him, I fainted. I had never fainted before in my life. Of course, Minerva didn't bother to tell me anything first. Just brought me into a shadowy room and presented me with him."

"You were surprised."

"The understatement of the year. No, of the century. I had seen Albus weaken. I had been near him only a few hours before he supposedly died. I have been a Healing professional for fifty years. Melina had sealed his death certificate. I was beyond shocked. I was also angry and hurt, as unreasonable as that might sound...and it does sound unreasonable even to me. But as I told Minerva on Sunday, I would wait to be angry with her until after everything was over," Poppy said. She sighed. "Now that it is, now that Riddle's dead and the wizarding world knows that Albus's death was a carefully planned and executed deception, I find myself merely . . . a little hurt, I suppose. I stood at these windows and watched as students, friends, and colleagues fought and were injured or even killed. Somehow after that, I don't have any room left in me to be angry with her. Especially after seeing Minerva in Albus's arms. When Blampa Apparated them to the infirmary, I thought she was dead, Severus." Poppy squeezed his hand, then released it. "Minerva did what she thought was right. She saved Albus's life and yours by doing what she did, and it wasn't easy for her."

"It was easy for him, though," Severus said, not caring how he sounded.

"He really was truly ill, you know," Poppy replied quietly. "He had to give up almost everything that he had been for so many years...he couldn't associate with his friends, he had to take another name and identity, and he had to relinquish the power he had exercised for so long. And I have known Albus for many years, Severus, and I can assure you, he never could have found it easy to watch people grieve him. Although from what Minerva has said, I do think he was surprised by it, too, by the depth of feeling so many people had for him."

"Still . . . he . . ." Severus turned his head away.

"It is hard sometimes to realise how much we have come to care for someone," Poppy said, "and how much we have come to depend on them being in our lives. Sometimes we don't realise it until it's too late, then they are gone and our grief is doubled. To discover that Albus was alive and here all that time, it could not be easy for you."

"I know why he and Minerva did as they did. It is fine. I am fine."

"I'm sure you will be. But I wouldn't be surprised if you were confused about how you feel...or at least that you have a lot of contradictory feelings at the same time. It would certainly be natural." Poppy paused and looked at him, thinking. "You know, Severus, you and I . . . I'd like to think we're friends of a sort and that I know you a little better than most. I know that you grieved Albus. You were as Stoic as always after his death, but I saw that you grieved. That wasn't a bad thing, however confusing it may be now. You loved him and he'd been important in your life. That was very good to see...not your pain of course. Now you have a new life and a fresh opportunity to . . . to make those kinds of connections with other people, and perhaps to appreciate them while you have them."

Severus swallowed past the lump in his throat. "But my grief was all a lie."

"No. No, Severus, it wasn't a lie. It spoke your truest feelings. That Albus was dead was a lie, and perhaps Minerva's grief was a lie...although I have no doubt that the entire process was painful for her...but your own grief was no lie."

Severus made no response to that, too tired to think about it any further.

"I will fetch Egeria to look at you. Melina won't be back from London until late, but we'll have her come see you when she is."

"I don't want to see O'Donald," Severus said, a sudden violent antipathy rolling over him. He did not want to see the cheery, vibrant Healer who had made the entire deception possible and who seemed to have made his life a lie. "I won't. And I want to return to my rooms."

"Very well," Poppy replied, unfazed by his vehemence. "But I do want Egeria to see you before I treat your fever, and I can't let you leave the infirmary just yet. I will at the first possible moment, though, Severus, as long as you agree to abide by certain guidelines."

Severus narrowed his eyes. He didn't want any conditions or rules. He wanted to leave. He wanted to never see any of these people again, to never clap his eyes on Hogwarts, to never again be told what to do and when to do it. Poppy folded over the top of his sheet, lowered the head of his bed slightly, and ran a cool damp cloth over his face. But he would humour the matron for a little longer.

---

There was a knock and his door opened despite his lack of response.

"Severus?"

Severus relaxed. "Hermione. I thought it was someone else come to cast more spells or impart more unwanted information."

"No. Madam Pomfrey said that I could have my dinner here with you if you felt up to company."

He nodded, then he reached for his wand and raised the head of his bed.

Hermione frowned. "I thought you weren't supposed to be using any magic yet."

"Activating a charm takes less energy than it takes for someone to scold me for it," Severus said irritably.

"Sorry." She sat down in the Transfigured wingback chair.

Severus shook his head. "Not you. I didn't mean you." He had, but he wished he hadn't said it.

"I remember how close to death you were, that's all. I just don't want to see you have a relapse."

"Just don't fuss too much," he replied. "I don't mind you being here, though."

"So . . . Madam Pomfrey said that you saw Professor Dumbledore this afternoon."

He nodded curtly. "Is dinner coming, or do we have to call for it? Twiskett!"

Twiskett popped in. Once he'd been certain his Professor Snape was on his way back to his usual self, he'd moved out from under the bed.

"Where's our dinner?" Severus asked.

Twiskett's brow furrowed, he nodded, then he popped out again.

"Is he mute?" Hermione asked.

"No. Just agreeably quiet. No constant yammering," Severus said crossly.

"He's not in charge of the infirmary meals, you know," Hermione said, trying to ignore Severus's irritability.

"He is a house-elf. And if the infirmary house-elves are not competent to feed the patients, then I will call him. Unless you prefer to sit here and starve to death?"

"Severus, that is an exaggeration," Hermione began.

"It is only an exaggeration because I have taken measures to see that we are fed," Severus replied just as two trays of food appeared. "And I should also remind you that until the end of July, I am still Deputy Headmaster here...and your Potions teacher."

Hermione was silent. She picked up her fork and poked at her shepherd's pie.

Severus felt disagreeable, but now he felt worse than he had before he had vented his irritation. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Hermione ate some mashed potato.

"I dislike being a patient in the infirmary, myself," Hermione said softly.

"That's all I meant. I do have some authority left . . . I can still at least call a house-elf for a meal." Not what he'd originally meant, but she nodded and let him save face.

"The shepherd's pie is good," she ventured. "I like it when they put mushrooms in the gravy."

"Hmmph. First real meal they have let me have," Severus said grumpily. "Probably a mistake. They probably wanted me to have pablum and weak milky tea for my supper."

Hermione giggled. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"It's just funny sometimes. Pablum and weak tea, the way you said it," Hermione explained.

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"What did you think when they told you?" he asked suddenly.

"I was shocked, I suppose, although . . . somehow it seemed to make sense of things, things that I hadn't really been aware hadn't made sense before," Hermione replied, knowing immediately what he was talking about. "But I never knew the Professor as well as you did, and . . . well, they told me a little about the Vow you took, though I got the feeling that there's a lot that they didn't tell me. I think it was a very good thing for you that they did what they did, but . . . if I were you, I probably would've felt in some way responsible for Dumbledore's death even if I hadn't killed him, because he did it to avoid the Vow. So I think now I'd feel upset because there was something that I'd felt guilty for that was actually all just an act, and because I'd been playing a role and didn't know it. I suppose that even if I was happy and relieved, I'd still be upset about that, especially since I'd believed it was one true thing in a life filled with lies." Hermione shrugged. "But of course, I can't know exactly how you feel. I'm not you and our lives have been very different. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if you felt something besides happiness that he's alive. Even if part of you is happy, of course."

Severus pushed aside his plate. It was too much, but Poppy would bring him nutritional potion later; he could take that.

"I don't know how I feel," Severus admitted. "But you are correct: it is not unmitigated happiness."

Hermione finished her meal, then pulled her vanilla custard toward her. "They've cancelled classes until September," she said conversationally. "That's not a surprise, I suppose, but they're considering holding NEWTs and OWLs. Professor Flitwick is meeting with the Board of Governors in the morning, but I don't think they'll make any decisions about anything until the Headmistress can take part. And you, too."

"They can do as they wish." Severus swirled his spoon through his custard then shook his head and set the small bowl on top of his plate of shepherd's pie.

"You are the Deputy Headmaster," Hermione pointed out.

"The Headmistress is quite capable of handling things without me. She has Dumbledore and the others. Flitwick is competent."

"Professor Dumbledore isn't involved in any of the decisions, at least not formally. People were coming to him with questions and asking him what they should do, and he sent them to Professor Flitwick. He's just another teacher, he says."

Severus nodded. "So the Governors aren't going to make him Headmaster again?"

"I think that if they tried, he wouldn't accept it. Besides, Professor McGonagall is the Headmistress now; they'd have to sack her first. Professor Dumbledore has made it very clear that during the entire time that he was masquerading as Professor Crouch, she was the one who made all of the decisions concerning the school. I guess there was some speculation that she'd just been . . . a puppet, I suppose, and that he'd been acting through her. But the speculation didn't go very far; he nipped it in the bud. I think it was pretty obvious to anyone who was here this year that the Headmistress was in charge, and she clearly was in command of the Hogwarts defence."

"She is a formidable and capable witch," Severus agreed.

"You said that you're Deputy until the end of July. What did you mean?"

"I have a renewable contract. I can renew it or resign. Obviously, I never believed that I would live to renew it."

"You're going to resign?"

"I . . . I don't know." He was getting a headache.

"You have time to think about that later," Hermione said. She waved her wand and cleared away their dinner dishes. "I wanted to let you know that I won't be at the castle most of the next couple days. There are some funerals. But I'll be here first thing in the morning for your exercises, and I'll come by in the evening, too. And on Saturday, we can do your exercises after lunch before I leave again."

"I see." He didn't know why he cared whether she was in the castle or not, except that he didn't want to have some nitwit from St. Mungo's there supervising his exercises.

"On Sunday, I'll be gone for part of the morning, but then I'll be back. I'll be here for the feast, too."

"I hope to be in my own quarters by Sunday. Earlier, perhaps."

"We could meet in your office," Hermione suggested.

Severus thought a moment. He had no desire to see his office. "Call Twiskett. I will tell him to expect you. He will bring you to me," he said with a decisive nod. "It is not necessary to continue with the exercises, however, if you are occupied."

"Yes, it is. If you'd rather not do them with me..."

"I'd rather do them with no one else," Severus replied. "And we have not had a walk in the gardens yet."

Hermione smiled. "I think we might be able to do that on Saturday, if you like."

He nodded.

"I have those newspapers for you," she said, reaching into her bag. "The first one is the Wednesday early edition of the Prophet. There were a couple extra editions, and I included them, but many of the articles are just reprints. There's also a copy of the Dublin edition of today's Prophet because there's an interview with Kevin Harper on what it means to be a Snape's Slytherin. There's also a copy of yesterday's Voyant-Clair, the Toronto Wizarding Gazette, and this morning's Täglicher Wahrsager, in case you'd like a more international perspective."

Severus accepted the newspapers from her. The headline announcing Scrimgeour's death was below those announcing that You-Know-Who was dead and Dumbledore lived. Potter's continued existence was below all three, but in larger letters. Dumbledore's name was probably on the front page of every issue. He unfolded the first one. One large picture of Potter and Dumbledore returning from the Forbidden Forest, sober expressions on their faces, dominated the page, and below that was one taken from a distance that looked to be a photograph of Potter, Dumbledore, and Minerva facing the Dark Lord in the midst of a battlefield of combatants, but there was another one in the bottom right corner, and Severus blinked at it, then felt the blood drain from his face.

"What's this?" He pointed. But he knew what it was.

"Colin Creevey took photographs of the battle from the Hospital Wing windows using some special lens, then after the battle, he went out and took more. Almost all of the Hogwarts photographs in the papers are ones he took. He happened to be outside taking photographs of the grounds when we returned." Hermione blushed. "We didn't know he'd taken any of us until we saw this one in the paper."

Severus stared. The photograph showed a small group walking up the drive from the gates towards the castle, two witches, two wizards, and a supine figure floating on a Charmed stretcher.

"There are others he took, some just of you, but he only sold that one. He says the others are just for, um, he calls it the historical record."

"I will . . . I will have him scrubbing cauldrons until he is ninety," Severus hissed.

"I think you look noble and heroic, Severus. And you shouldn't judge it yet." Hermione said softly. "People were very moved by it."

"Is that Moody?"

Hermione nodded. "He came down to tell us we could return to Hogwarts, and then he led us back from Hogsmeade on foot. We didn't want to Apparate with you if it wasn't necessary."

Severus closed his eyes.

"Should I put them away until later?" Hermione asked.

"No." He looked down at the pile of newspapers. "I'll read them. Perhaps not all tonight."

"Good night, then. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Hermione. Thank you for the papers. And for . . . your assistance." He wanted to apologise for his earlier temper, but it embarrassed him, and he couldn't bring the words to his lips.

---

Severus stood in the middle of his sitting room. He had been standing in the same spot for five minutes. Twiskett had brought him his clothes that morning, and once Egeria had cast her eye and a few diagnostic spells over him, he had dressed normally. After lunch, he and Hermione had taken a brief walk on the grounds, though he had tired before they reached the gardens. They had sat together on a bench she conjured, but had spoken little. Severus found it difficult to avert his gaze from the spot where the white tomb had been for so many months, gone now as though it had never been.

Hermione had walked him back into the castle, but he had insisted on walking down to the dungeons on his own. She had another funeral to attend that afternoon, anyway. So now he was standing in the middle of his sitting room, which, when he'd left it on Monday evening, he'd thought he would never see again. And he had no idea what to do.

A knock on the door gave him a moment's purpose, and he walked over and opened it.

"McGonagall? I thought you were in hospital," Severus said.

Gareth smiled. "They unchained me this afternoon. Thought I'd see how you are."

"I was similarly released this noon."

"I see, but I didn't know that and went to the infirmary first. I hate to be presumptuous, but do you suppose I could come in?"

Severus noted then that Gareth was leaning with one hand against the doorframe and his face was pale and sweaty.

Severus stepped aside. "Should you be walking about the castle?" he asked as he closed the door behind them.

"No." Gareth lowered himself carefully onto the couch. "Just don't tell Poppy. I told her I was going straight to my room."

"You're staying here?"

"For a little while. We're returning to the house in Hogsmeade, but I'll be here for a few days whilst I recuperate. Mum is staying at the estate until I have the place done over for her. Shouldn't take long, though."

"You don't look as though you should be out of bed."

Gareth shrugged. "I'm supposed to get some exercise. I Flooed to Hogsmeade and Hagrid was waiting for me with a carriage. He dropped me right at the door, so I only went up to the infirmary and then came down here."

"You didn't see your aunt first?"

"I'll see her later. Uncle Albus has visited me a few times, and it sounds as though she's recovering quickly. As soon as things are tidied up here, though, he wants to take her on holiday. After the year she's had, she needs one."

Severus nodded.

"What about you, Snape? Plans for the summer? Taking a holiday?"

He shrugged. "I do not take holidays as such. I will leave Hogwarts as soon as both Healer Egidius and the Headmistress will allow."

"Yes, I understand that Grandmother Egeria is your primary Healer now," Gareth said, looking at Severus speculatively. "You do know that she's a Healer-Midwife, don't you?"

"She has proven competent thus far, other than her obsession with fruit."

Gareth laughed. "Well, I suppose you are undergoing a rebirth of sorts. The Slytherin shedding his skin."

"Hmmpf. My recovery is proceeding apace."

"I see that. We can have that drink soon."

"I have a bottle of firewhisky. We can have it now." Get it over with, Severus thought.

"No alcohol for me yet...for you, either, unless you want my grandmother to send you back to the Hospital Wing. If we're lucky, they'll let us have a glass of wine with our meal at the feast tomorrow."

Severus was silent.

"Out with it, Snape. Come on. No need to be polite on my account," Gareth said.

"I have promised the Headmistress that I would attend, but I do not want to."

"You are . . . angry? Upset? Confused?" Gareth ventured.

"Why do you care?"

"No clue, Snape. Must be your winning personality."

"You knew, didn't you? You must have. They had the real Crouch on that island and you were there, too."

"Of course. I helped with the planning. When my brother moved to the island, he and Thea stayed in my aunt and uncle's cottage and I stayed with my mother. I'd been staying in the other one with Thea, but it's a bit small for three adults for more than a short time. Mum got used to having someone else around after a while." Gareth was quiet for a moment. "It was the first time that I'd spent more than a few weeks at once with her since I was about fourteen. It was actually pretty nice."

"Bully for you," Severus said sarcastically.

"Yes, well, it was," Gareth replied calmly. "Look, I'll see you at the feast tomorrow, but I'm staying in the Ravenclaw guest rooms if you feel like stopping by before then." He stood up, then paused. "Melina is glad to know you're doing better, and she understands that your full recovery will not be easy for you."

"Close the door on your way out, McGonagall."

---

Albus walked into the Headmistress's Office and took a seat near the fireplace. "Very pretty hat, Minerva."

"Mmm, I'm still not sure, but I didn't want to waste any more of Madam Malkin's time," Minerva replied, looking in the mirror and trying a different tilt to the oblong brim and wondering whether the long, sweeping feather wasn't a bit too . . . Musketeer.

"Did you set the menu yet?" Albus asked, taking out his pipe, but just fiddling with it.

"I'm leaving it all to Filius and Pomona, other than the seating arrangements," she said, taking off the teal-coloured hat, putting it aside, and banishing the mirror from the desk. "And that has me preoccupied at the moment."

"I'd think it would be fairly straightforward. Unless you want to mix people, you can divide them according to..."

"I don't want to divide them by House," Minerva replied.

"I was going to suggest by whether they were student, Ministry, Order, and so forth."

"That's actually not the trouble I'm having. It's the staff table."

Albus raised an eyebrow.

"Obviously, Severus will sit on my right as usual, and the others will sort out easily, but I don't know what to do with you."

"I can sit where Robbie always sat."

"You could . . . but you do know that probably half the school and most of the Order believed we were having an illicit affair when you were Robbie. The staff certainly did."

"Ah. Yes. I suppose that we can tell everyone that it was part of our cover story, that it was an excuse for me to spend more time with you, planning our strategies and so on."

Minerva didn't respond.

"What were you considering?" Albus asked.

"I was thinking of moving you up to sit at my left," Minerva said.

"I see," Albus replied, though he didn't entirely.

"After all, most of the staff already know that we're together, and a few know we're married. A few in the Order already know we're a couple, as well."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Last year was anomalous. In practice, I don't believe it is a good thing for people, especially students, to speculate about the Headmistress's love life, particularly about any illicit affairs. It is much better to be discreet about such things. Your following me about like a lovesick puppy dog, while I did enjoy your company, was hardly discreet."

"We had a discreet relationship for many years," Albus reminded her. "And I think that 'lovesick puppy dog' is a bit of an exaggeration. We behaved appropriately in front of the students and hardly any differently in front of the staff."

"I think we can still behave appropriately, but I believe that in this case, discretion means more openness. I don't want it to appear that we are having some . . . some sordid little affair."

"As I said, we can tell everyone that my behaviour last year was an act so that we could meet more frequently," Albus said.

"And I said that I would like you to sit at my left at the feast tomorrow."

Albus looked at her. "Ah. I see. And you do not mean it simply as a place of honour for the former Headmaster."

"Correct. I know we haven't discussed this in years, but now that things are different . . . we don't have to be as discreet as we were, do we?" Minerva asked.

"Things are different now, Headmistress McGonagall," Albus agreed with a smile.

"Not just that: no more Riddle. You did your bit...we did our bit...and now perhaps we can finally have our freedom."

"You would like to have our relationship made public."

"I'm not suggesting taking out a full-page advert in the Prophet," Minerva said as she stood and crossed the room to him. "Just not being secretive about it any longer. Discreet but not secretive."

Albus tilted his head, looking up at her with a fond smile. "You know, I don't think it would do at all for the wizarding world to believe that the Hogwarts Headmistress was having an affair with a member of her staff."

"You aren't suggesting you quit, are you? Or that we both do?"

"No, simply saying that it may take me a while to become used to being openly married after all these years, but I think I would be quite happy to become accustomed to it."

Minerva smiled broadly. "I may miss our clandestine meetings, though."

"Whoever said we had to stop those?" Albus replied with a grin as he pulled her down into his lap.

---

Severus took his seat beside Minerva. The staff had met in the antechamber and all entered together, though when he'd arrived in the Great Hall, other guests had already begun taking their places at the small round tables set up in lieu of the usual House tables. He glanced over at one of the nearest tables, where several of the student leaders were seated together. Blaise Zabini had just said something that Potter and the Abbot girl found funny. Hermione sat between Potter and Weasley, with Luna Lovegood on Weasley's left, and Longbottom next to her, then Daphne Greengrass. The next table over also hosted a mix of Dumbledore's Army and Snape's Slytherins. Pansy Parkinson looked uncomfortable seated between Anthony Goldstein and Dean Thomas, and Severus wondered again at her motivations for joining Snape's Slytherins at the last minute. Perhaps a sudden realisation of which was the winning side, although if that had been her only consideration, she could have retreated to the Hospital Wing with the younger Slytherins, yet she had fought until shortly after the Dark Lord's...Riddle's...defeat, when she had been struck by a Petrificus.

Gareth McGonagall was sitting at a table with a few members of the Order, including Lupin and Tonks, but there were still five chairs open at the table, and Severus wondered who among the Order hadn't arrived yet. Arthur and Kingsley were seated at a table with others from the Ministry, including one elderly witch whom he didn't recognise, but to whom Kingsley was clearly deferential. Too old to be Scrimgeour's widow, and he believed that the slightly plump witch on the other side of Gawain Robards was the late Minister's wife. It seemed that the Headmistress had chosen to invite a few from the battle at the Ministry, as well. Ah . . . Scrimgeour's guest, the one above reproach. Severus remembered reading that she was a Yaxley and had insisted on joining Scrimgeour in the defence of the Ministry. She certainly looked sprightly enough, considering that she was over one-hundred fifty.

Poppy leaned over and whispered to him. "If you feel fatigued at any point, let me know, Severus, and I can walk you out."

"I am perfectly capable of leaving on my own, if I wish," Severus replied stiffly. Apparently, Minerva had placed the matron on his right to keep an eye on him.

"I know. I'm simply offering. But I hope that you will stay through the entire meal, as long as you feel up to it."

Severus didn't respond. More guests were filing in. Two students, one a Slytherin and one Gryffindor, had been enlisted to greet them at the door, and two others, a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff, helped them to find their tables. Severus felt Poppy sit up straighter, as though she wanted to pop out of her seat. He looked over at her. Her bright gaze was fixed on two newcomers: a tall, broad-shouldered, handsome wizard in a dark, well-tailored Muggle suit, and a younger, petite witch with fiery golden hair. The straight-backed wizard certainly was remarkable-looking, his dark hair streaked with white, and carrying himself with the ease and grace of an athlete, but Severus had never believed the Hogwarts matron to be overly interested in mere good looks. She certainly hadn't simpered around Lockhart, after all. But then the new wizard caught Minerva's eye, and he grinned at her. As Minerva rose and left the table to greet the wizard personally, Severus could feel Poppy twitch, as though she wished to join the Headmistress.

Severus's curiosity overcame his reticence, and he finally asked, "Who's the wizard in the suit?"

"Quin," Poppy said with a happy smile. "Alroy's father. Melina found a cure for him. I haven't been able to visit him, though, with everything else going on."

So that was Quin. He could see why Poppy had described him as she had, months ago. The wizard practically crackled with charisma, and it hadn't required the Headmistress's approach and personal greeting to cause all heads to turn toward the new guest. When Quin leaned toward Minerva to accept her kiss, then kissed her cheek and gathered her into a bear hug, literally lifting her up off the floor in his exuberance, Severus looked over at Albus, half-expecting some expression of displeasure or surprise on the older wizard's face, but Albus was grinning, genuine happiness on his face.

Minerva took Quin's hand and led him up to the staff table, leaving Aine to sit beside Gareth. Albus rose and embraced the younger wizard.

"Minerva hadn't told me you were coming! It is so good to see you, such a wonderful surprise!" Albus said enthusiastically, drawing back to look at Quin.

"You have another surprise waitin' for you in the Headmistress's Office," Quin said with a wink. "A hamper filled with all your favourite sweets. Well, the ones o' me own manufacture, anyway. Still haven't any sherbet lemons."

Albus laughed.

"Allow me to introduce you to Severus Snape, the Deputy Headmaster," Minerva said. "Severus, this is an old friend, Quin MacAirt."

Severus pushed himself to his feet. He would not embarrass himself or the Headmistress with petulant behaviour, regardless of his desire to be far from there.

Quin extended his hand. "'Tis a pleasure to be meetin' you at last," he said. He nodded slightly as his bright blue eyes met Severus's dark ones and he shook his hand. "We all owe you a debt of gratitude, some of us more than others."

Severus did not know how to respond to that. To explain that it had been he repaying a debt seemed impossible, to contradict the other man seemed rude, and to accept his words as though he deserved them seemed hypocritical.

"You're Alroy MacAirt's father," Severus said instead.

The wizard's smile grew. "That I am." Quin looked beyond Severus to Poppy. "And to see you again brings joy to me eyes."

Poppy stood and came around to take Quin's hand. "It's good to see you well...and with your wand!"

"Usin' it, too," Quin said, light in his eyes. "I better find me seat, though. No holdin' up dinner! I'll see you later, I'm sure." He bent quickly and gave Poppy a peck on the cheek.

As the tall Irishman turned and left, speaking a few more words to Minerva and Albus on his way past, Severus took his seat again and looked over at Poppy. He had expected to see her watching Quin, but her eyes were on the doors again, and Severus followed her gaze. Immediately, he thought that his heart stopped as surely as if he had been hit with an Arrestocordis. His stomach seemed to drop and the blood drain from his face.

Gareth was now out of his seat and walking rapidly toward the three who had just come through the doors. The older witch seemed to scold him mildly for exerting himself, but he took her arm and led her to his table. Robert and Thea Crouch followed.

"It must seem strange to you...and to many others...to see Robert Crouch here," Poppy said softly.

Severus merely grunted a reply. It would have been startling and strange to see the wizard whose form Albus had inhabited for more than a year, were it not for the fact that a one-armed witch was with him.

He couldn't remain. If he did remain, he would be unable to eat. Of all the dreadful things he had done before he had turned to Dumbledore all those years ago, this particular one had haunted him since he'd met Robert Crouch that day in the Headmaster's Office. Severus knew that the witch had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, she hadn't been invited there merely to taunt him or to remind him of his ignoble past in the face of whatever accolades he might now be receiving, and yet Severus felt that it was so, that she was there to remind him that he was not cream, but pond scum. He may have risen above his Death Eater past, but the fact remained, that was where he had begun and it still dominated who he was now.

Severus could scarcely hear Minerva as she stood and welcomed everyone, thanking them for their presence that evening and for their loyalty during the crisis and the attack on Hogwarts. He was only vaguely aware that she was mentioning the losses, those who should be there among them but who had died in the defence of the wizarding world. She requested a minute of silent memorial for the dead. Seconds ticked by, and Severus discreetly looked around the room. Many had their eyes closed or their heads bowed in reflection or prayer, but as Severus's gaze fell on Gareth's table, Gertrude Gamp opened her eyes and they met his. Severus froze, then Gamp seemed to nod slightly, and he wrenched his eyes away. Minerva began to speak again, this time speaking of other losses, of those who had chosen the Dark, and saying that the wizarding world should mourn their loss, as well, and attempt to keep future generations from falling into such ways.

Despite Minerva's mention of boring speeches, hers was the only one, and food arrived as soon as she sat down. Severus looked at his prawn cocktail and suppressed a shudder.

"Don't like prawns, Severus? Or are they just too rich for you yet?" Poppy asked.

"I am not hungry."

"Try to eat a little."

Severus felt Poppy's hand lightly on his elbow. "Just a little," she said. "You might feel better if you eat something."

Severus picked up his fork. If he could dance attendance on the Dark Lord while his victims lay writhing on the floor, he could certainly eat a meal in the Great Hall. He would simply shut everything off. Nothing was wrong. All was well.

When the next course arrived, Minerva leaned toward him. "I'm glad you felt well enough to attend, Severus."

He nodded shortly. "I am recovering quickly," he acknowledged.

"I thought there have been enough speeches and eulogies this week, and there will be more to come, so I thought this evening could simply be a quiet celebration and a time for reflection in the company of others."

"Probably a wise decision," Severus said.

"Mother said she would like to see you after the feast," Minerva continued. "And she would like Melina to take another look at you, too."

Severus nodded. It was pointless and childish to avoid Healer O'Donald. She had saved his life, after all, indirectly, at least. And she had saved Dumbledore. Severus glanced over at Albus, who was smiling at something that Sprout had said.

"I do not intend to remain long," Severus said. "You or Madam Pomfrey can escort them to my quarters if I have left before they are ready to." Melina, Murdoch, and Healer Egidius were sitting at the table just behind the one where Gareth and the Crouches sat with Professor Gamp. He had no desire to walk down and speak to either Healer.

An hour later, Severus sat in his well-worn armchair, his feet up on the equally worn ottoman, his eyes closed, hovering somewhere between waking and sleeping, when there was a knock on his door. Severus let out a sigh as he opened his eyes and removed his feet from the ottoman. The Healers were faster than he'd thought they'd be. When he'd left, people had begun to mingle, moving seats as they ate dessert and drank coffee. He'd been sure he'd have at least an hour of peace before they would appear and begin waving their wands at him.

Still under orders to conserve his magical energy, and privately agreeing with the advice, though he chafed at it, Severus stood and crossed to the door. He opened it to find not Melina and her grandmother, but Gareth.

"McGonagall. You are in the dungeons. If you are lost, the Ravenclaw guestrooms are on the seventh floor." Severus paused and frowned. "And you still don't look as though you should be wandering about and going up and down stairs."

Gareth smiled. "Just accompanying someone who wanted word. We looked for you in the Great Hall, but you were already gone."

Severus looked beyond Gareth just as a witch stepped forward. Severus stared.

"Professor Snape," the witch said with a nod. Gareth hovered close beside her.

Severus swallowed and nodded.

"I wished to see the wizard who served Slytherin House," Gertrude said in a steady voice, "to see who had inspired such fine young wizards and witches to fight for Hogwarts and the honour of Slytherin."

Severus was speechless. Surely she knew . . . she remembered . . . he had no doubt of it.

"I fought beside Snape's Slytherins, Professor, and they brought pride to our House. You did well with them." Professor Gamp stepped back. Severus thought she was trembling slightly, but she simply took another step back and glanced quickly over at her son on her right.

"I'll see you later, Snape. We have to be on our way now. But I'll be around this week, if you feel like a natter," Gareth said, reaching one hand to his mother's waist. "Good night!"

Severus managed a slight grunt and a nod as he watched the two turn and leave.

He was still standing at the door a few minutes later, leaning against it and trying to understand that visit, when there was another knock, a sharp, quick rapping. He opened the door and was relieved to see Melina's smiling face and Egeria's bright eyes. He stepped back and let them in. They could wave their wands all they liked.

---

Severus set aside his quill and automatically straightened the pile of parchments in front of him. It felt peculiar to do the grading he had begun more than a week ago, but the Headmistress wanted to have grades for the students. He almost reached for his pocket watch, then stopped himself and glanced at the clock across the room. Another forty minutes before the meeting. He toyed with the idea of beginning to tally final grades, but a knock on his office door interrupted that thought. With a flick of his wand, he opened the door.

"Good morning, Severus!"

"Minerva. If you are here to remind me of the meeting, I have not forgotten."

"No, no, I hadn't thought you had," she replied, taking a seat. "I simply wanted to see you. Finishing your grading?"

Severus nodded briefly. "I'll have the final grades for you before I leave the castle."

"I'm not worried about that. And do take your time with your decision. I promise not to bother you with school business over the summer. You can relax and recover."

Severus nodded. Spinner's End was hardly conducive to relaxation, but he felt incapable of making any decisions just then, and he would wait.

"I do have one other thing I would like you to do, however. It isn't precisely Hogwarts business, but it affects Hogwarts and her students." She pulled a stiff envelope from her pocket. "I asked to deliver this personally. Please attend, whether you want to for yourself or not. Blaise Zabini and your Slytherins would appreciate your presence, as would I."

Severus looked down at the envelope. Only his name on the front. He flicked a finger and broke the Ministry seal on the back, then removed the heavy embossed invitation. The Order of Merlin awards dinner.

"There will be many awards presented, but they are working it out so that the process shouldn't be too lengthy. I know your Slytherins will be receiving awards."

Severus assumed that he would receive one, as well, and his feelings about that were mixed. A part of him wanted recognition for his years of denial, danger, and pain, but another part of him felt that any positive recognition would be undeserved. He had joined Dumbledore because of his own agenda all those years ago: avenge Lily's death and pay for his unwitting betrayal of her. His reasons had changed over the years, particularly in the last few, but they were still based on the original choice he had made to take the Dark Mark. Hardly noble. And although the newspapers had said little of his past as a Death Eater, that would no doubt change once the elation of Riddle's defeat was over.

"Do not inform her, but Miss Granger will be receiving a Merlin, much of it based on her heroic actions in the Shrieking Shack," Minerva added.

Severus nodded. "I will consider attending."

"Good."

There was another knock on his door, and Minerva rose as Severus opened it. "I'll see you at the meeting, then." She turned. "Good morning, Miss Granger. Leaving today?"

"Yes. I'll be staying at Grimmauld Place for a while before I sort things out with my family."

"Take care of yourself, Hermione, and if you need any help, please do let me know," Minerva said with a smile.

"I will, Professor. Gareth's contacted his cousin about helping me out, but I'll let you know if there's anything else."

Minerva took her leave, and Hermione sat in the chair she'd vacated. "I wanted to say good-bye. I see you received an invitation to the awards dinner."

Severus nodded. He felt peculiarly hollow with the prospect of Hermione's departure, although he would be leaving soon himself.

"The MLE will check our house for curses and traps, but it isn't high on their list of priorities at the moment, and I'm not certain I want to bring my parents back there, anyway . . . if I can find them."

"If you can find them?"

"They aren't where I left them. I've placed a few telephone calls, but haven't found them yet."

"Where did you leave them?" Severus asked, sensing her underlying anxiety.

"A flat in Melbourne. They apparently moved out a few months ago." Hermione rubbed her forehead. "One of Gareth's cousins lives in Sydney and has a lot of connections. She's going to help me to find them and lift their memory charms."

"So you won't be attending the Merlins?"

"Yes, I will be. I have a Portkey for the next morning."

"Oh. Is there anything I can do?"

Hermione shook her head. "Morgana has hired both a witch private investigator and a Muggle agency to look for them. We'll have the Muggle report tomorrow. They're doing credit traces. We'll find them."

"If there is anything . . ."

"I'll let you know. When we return, I'll owl you. We still need to take a proper walk, after all."

Severus nodded.

"I'll see you at the dinner on Saturday, then?"

Severus looked at the invitation on his desk, then at Hermione. "I'll be there."

---

Note: There is a new "Who's Who in Death's Dominion" on my WordPress site and my LJ. There are links on my TPP author's page.