Part XIII

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit tribute to the works of JK Rowling, who created and, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and settings elaborated herein.

All my gratitude to my betas and previewers DementedLeaf, Xoxphoenix and Morgaine_Dulac. Many thanks to all my kind readers and reviewers.

Part XIII

Hogwarts Castle was bubbling with activity. The celebration that was held on that sunny October 4th was probably going to be the greatest of the new century for the school, as it would celebrate Headmistress McGonagall's hundredth birthday and Hogwarts' thousandth anniversary, both concentrated in one immense event.

The fantastic idea had been Professor Longbottom's. During a school meeting, he had gathered his fellow professors and announced that Headmistress McGonagall would soon be centenarian, a very significant age in the life of every wizard or witch. He had therefore proposed a big celebration and suggested including also the anniversary of the school. Now, nobody was certain of Hogwarts' real beginning, but it could be reasonably fixed around the initial years of the first millennium. However, nobody thought of questioning the choice of the date. The idea was fascinating and implied so many exciting possibilities! So, the two lucky days were combined in one great feast that would celebrate the school and its history through the birthday of a witch who had devoted her whole existence to teaching, and whose life had identified with the school itself.

For the special occasion, Hogwarts would open its rooms to families and friends, there would be games and tournaments, a banquet dedicated to the Headmistress, and many special guests: in a word, a fantastic opportunity for all the former students to meet and share the common heritage with the youngest members.

All the past professors who were still living had been invited, and the majority of them had reacted in emotion, declaring their joy at being considered again, thanking for the honour and sending owls with the many pleasant compliments and greetings people normally reserve for occasions like these.

The Board of Governors had been even more enthusiastic, and they had proposed to send an invitation to the other two ancient schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, that had shared so much of their recent past with Hogwarts. Two delegations were expected to arrive in the first hours of the morning.

Of course, it hadn't been possible to keep Headmistress McGonagall in the dark for too much time. When the project had finally been explained to her in detail, her reaction at the proposal had been a mix of surprise, joy, gratitude, and all those beautiful, powerful emotions that honest people are ready to dispense and that are so rewarding for those receiving them.

The board of professors had been extremely pleased, though some had secretly envied Professor Longbottom for his intuition, and wondered if that brilliant idea could hide deceitful ambitions. But those suppositions had disappeared as soon as Professor Longbottom himself had expressed the strongest desire of not being quoted as the originator of the proposal.

So, the joyful day had finally arrived, and the gigantic machinery had begun its course, that was going surprisingly smoothly, considering the short time the organizers had had to prepare everything.

Since the early morning, a flood of people had invaded Hogwarts' rooms and spaces, merrily walking through the gardens. People Apparated here and there with soft pops, broomsticks flew high over the sky – for the occasion, the magical locks had been removed, as a special squad of Aurors was in charge of the security – and the Knight Bus was continuously letting off happy vociferous groups of visitors. This impressive stream of people was moving from place to place in a slow but orderly fashion, according to the program, and soon gathered to provide a cheerful welcome to the foreign delegations.

Head of the Beauxbatons group, Madame Maxime made her usual impressive appearance getting off a carriage splendidly adorned. The crowd held its breath when the enormous globe landed after an audacious manoeuvre in the sky and hurried to respectfully make room for the huge flying palomino horses. Then an immense sigh crossed the air, and many of the most emotional witches amongst the present had to search for tissues, when Madame Maxime encircled in her colossal arms the frail figure of Minerva McGonagall, who disappeared for a moment in her tender embrace.

Headmaster Polikarpov from Durmstrang was a bit more frigid in his attitude, but his perfect bow and hand-kissing, though terribly old-fashioned, still were irresistible for the majority of the (older) women.

Flags and decoration with the flamboyant symbols and colours of the four Houses were displayed everywhere. Happiness and excitement were almost palpable. The top of the day was reached during the banquet that took place in the park, due to the immense quantity of people gathered. The table hosting the three headmasters plus many assorted dignitaries and celebrities had been placed over a platform in the centre of the garden, so that everybody could see them. When Harry Potter proposed a toast to Hogwarts and its Headmistress, the answer was a unanimous roar, and Professor McGonagall, forgetting her reserve for a moment, hugged and kissed him on his cheeks, while a powerful chorus shouted and whistled in approval.

The sun was spreading its glorious rays on one of the most beautiful October days in the last few years. The food was extraordinary, the occasion unique, and everybody was beaming in joy. What else could be desired for such a wonderful feast?

Inside the Potions classroom, Severus Snape sat in his picture, listening distractedly to the happy noises coming from the outside. Life was in full swing out there, but he wasn't allowed to participate. He was only a portrait, and the thought was particularly melancholic that day.

During the morning, an exhausted but enthusiastic Longbottom had appeared in the room to inform him of the success of the idea. Neville's cheeks were burning in excitement, and the man's face resembled its younger self in an astounding way. However, in spite of all his animation, Neville had spoken with surprising calm.

"Everybody is happy out there. It has been very difficult for me to hide the fact that you are the real author of this day of joy. I think that Professor McGonagall should be informed."

"No," Snape had answered quietly.

"Well, then allow me to take out your portrait, so that you can at least enjoy the sight."

"No!" Snape had replied more forcefully.

"But why not?! You deserve to share what you have—"

"Mr. Longbottom!" For a moment, Snape had transformed in his old self, and Neville had stepped back, his face reflecting something very similar to his childish terror. "This discussion is pointless. Now go out before somebody has the unpleasant idea of coming here and looking for you."

But Neville had reacted fiercely. "What if I shouldn't agree?"

"Mr. Longbottom!" Snape had exclaimed again, and this time a spark had lit his eyes. The man in the portrait knew very well that he had no other power than his personal reputation and couldn't oppose to any possible decision of a living being. Understanding those feelings, Neville had lowered his head, whispering an embarrassed, "I'm sorry. I'll come later to visit you again, then."

The hours of the late afternoon seemed to spread a veil of quietness after the excitement of the morning. Snape was still meditating when he heard the increasing sound of feet and voices approaching. He instinctively held his breath, feeling scared, nervous, and yet strangely hopeful. The door opened and a small, hesitant group of adults entered the room, looking around uncertainly in what looked like a parody of a first year class.

With sudden emotion, Snape recognized some of his past colleagues: Slughorn, Trelawney, Vector, Hooch and finally Sprout, arm in arm with Neville Longbottom.

"Severus!" Slughorn actually trumpeted as soon as he saw the portrait. The old wizard had fattened even more; his splendid green and silver robes were stained here and there, his face was reddish and beaming in satisfaction, and some little hiccups escaped his lips while he advanced laboriously in the room. He stopped to look around in flattering amazement, then he involuntarily burped. Reddening even more in confusion, he immediately began to pile words upon words.

"Good boy! I see you are doing a wonderful job here! You were an excellent teacher, Severus, and I have always been proud of you. You and Lily… my little jewel… and Harry… he has grown up to be a great Auror, as I predicted him… and he is such a good man … he never forgets a friend… saw the children today with him… charming little ones…"

Listening and trying to make sense of the incoherent torrent of words that the clearly drunk old man was babbling, Snape suddenly froze at that last mention. Harry Potter! And there! He hadn't thought of that possible consequence when he had decided to dedicate a day of joy to Minerva. Those were the problems of having somebody else handling the matter. But Slughorn had finally reached the picture, and the other professors gathered around him and looked up in expectation, while he concluded his speech exactly with the words that Snape had feared.

"So, dear boy, we are here to congratulate you."

Snape forced himself to say something and stop that outburst.

"Glad to see you," he declared concisely, then with an incinerating glance to Neville, he added coldly, "I suppose I owe this pleasure to Mr. Longbottom, do I?"

"Such a nice boy," Pomona Sprout enthused, stroking Neville's hair maternally. She too had fattened, and her eyes twinkled with placid happiness and pride, while she addressed a cordial smile to the portrait. "He told me that now you are colleagues."

"It's a pleasure to be here today," Hooch interposed. " And I'm glad also to see that you haven't changed that much," she couldn't help to add with a smile.

"Happy to see you, Severus! Really, really happy," declared Vector in the meantime, and his voice decreased to a murmur, while he considered the portrait with pensive eyes, in which compassion was easily detectable. Strangely, Trelawney didn't say anything, but her lips were suspiciously trembling while she continually adjusted her glasses on her nose.

Snape looked at Neville and sighed softly. Hadn't his former student realised how painful that meeting could be for the man locked into the canvas? For the second time in a few hours, Neville perceived those desolate feelings and lowered his eyes in embarrassment; then, with an impulsive decision, he raised his head and began to speak in a rush.

"Professor Snape has recently joined the Board of Professors again, and we are all very happy and honoured to have him with us. Though I was simply terrified by him when I was a student, I am now very grateful for what he did and I am sure that he will be a great addition to—"

Sprout, who was considering Neville with a slight frown, raised a hand and interrupted the speech. Then she spoke with her usual frankness.

"What the boy is trying to say, Severus, is that we are all grateful. It took us a long while to realise it, but now we've got it clear. You have been a hero and we never understood it, so it is time to finally acknowledge the truth."

"Yes, Severus," Slughorn panted, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. "I hope you will forgive me for having tried to add a spoonful of Let-Me-Go Draught to your chocolate, when you were the Headmaster. Thankfully, Alecto Carrow drank it at your place. You remember how greedy she was."

The hint of a smile appeared on Snape's lips, but the rest of his companions stared at Slughorn with a perplexed face. It was evident that nobody knew about the potion, and they were silently wondering about its possibly lethal effects. Happy to have catalysed the attention of the entire group, the old wizard suddenly winked and added with a devilish grin, "So she spent a whole week visiting all the bathrooms in the castle!"

The unexpected conclusion raised a chorus of laughter, and quickly the atmosphere relaxed. Soon the small group was talking quietly, each one of the visitors telling Snape the various minor activities in which they were now involved and with which they were trying to give meaning to their lives; an account that the dark wizard found much more interesting when he understood that Neville hadn't betrayed his secret, and that nobody was suspecting Snape's real role in the feast.

Finally Slughorn, who seemed to have sobered during the conversation, glanced at the others and proposed, "Now, now, a toast to Hogwarts and to Severus. May he teach generations and generations of children for the glory of this school!"

With a quick wave of his wand, he conjured a bottle of wine and a tray of goblets. The group looked once more at the old wizard in disapproval, evidently judging his proposal tactless. But he smiled knowingly and murmured a mysterious spell with impressive speed. Instantaneously, a goblet painted itself in front of Snape, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. The other wizards and witches reacted with thrilled admiration, and Slughorn beamed and waved his hand, declaring with false modesty, "Oh! Just a bagatelle! I learned how to do it many years ago, enjoying the winter holidays with the portrait of Cirnic the Cleric."

Happily, everybody raised a goblet, and several other toasts followed the first, each one dedicated to a different member of the group. Light-hearted by the powerful drink, eventually Hooch asked with a chuckle, "But where is Albus? I haven't seen him yet today. This could be a good occasion to finally tell him how funny he looked with those purple boots!"

"You can tell me whatever you want and whenever you want, Rolanda," said a mild voice. "I am here, ready to listen." Albus Dumbledore twinkled merrily from a panorama on the other side of the room.

"Albus!" Hooch paled then reddened in embarrassment. "Well, I… I really wasn't… I didn't mean… Merlin! You weren't supposed to listen!"

"And what a blessing that would be to us all," Snape wryly commented. "But, unfortunately, he has kept this terrible habit. He's always meddling."

Albus bowed, accepting the remark with a smile. "I would have been very happy to talk with you today, my dear friends," he then declared lightly. "I was only expecting the right occasion. Unfortunately, I have been busy until now with the party. Many of the guests wanted to speak with me, and I couldn't elude this duty."

His eyes twinkled merrily one more time, then he turned grave. "However, I am here to announce that you are requested by the Headmistress. There is a special gathering of all the living professors in the Great Hall, and you are kindly asked to go there immediately."

The small group exploded with questions and regretful comments, then in a confused mix of greetings and wishes, they hurried to leave. Dumbledore waited patiently until the door closed after the excited visitors, then he looked at Snape.

"Just another little announcement, and this time only for you, Severus. There is somebody wishing to speak with you. However, be prepared. This visit might be… unpleasant."

"Albus!" Snape instantly reacted. "What do you mean by that? Albus! ALBUS!!!"

But the old wizard had left his picture and, immediately after, an unknown hand knocked twice at the door. Affecting a calmness that he didn't absolutely feel, Snape forced himself to reply and waited anxiously for his unknown visitor to show.

The door silently opened, and a magnificently dressed old man advanced in the room. The portrait held his breath while, helping himself with a cane, the visitor slowly crossed the space, walking with a fatigued, limping gait. The stranger was wearing a hood, but he lifted it as soon as he reached the picture, revealing a patrician head of white, long hair. His face was drained and wrinkled, but his cold grey eyes and pale thin lips still displayed that hateful arrogant expression the dark wizard remembered so well.

"At last we meet again, Severus!" the old man sardonically greeted, and Snape felt his throat turn dry.

"Lucius..." he whispered.

Memories fell mercilessly upon him.