part XV

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. Infinite thanks to Duj for her final supervision. Many thanks to all my kind readers and reviewers. Let's see if this chapter answers some of the questions I have received...

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Part XV

It was almost evening when the door opened again without warning, this time pushed by two eager children who seemed to be in great haste. Abruptly awakening from his dark reverie, Snape recognized Albus Severus in one of them, and his heart filled with joy. But who was the little red-haired girl racing with him to arrive first under the portrait? There was something familiar in her little features, and the wizard had the alarming feeling that he was soon going to be introduced another member of the Potter family.

"Good evening, Professor!" Albus Severus greeted with a joyful smile, then watched his small companion with a mute order in his eyes.

"Good evening, Professor!" the girl volunteered readily.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Snape began to answer, and his words raised a giggle from the girl. He frowned immediately, but she didn't lower her eyes. Instead, she looked at the boy with an amused glance.

"Mr. Potter! Is that what they call you at Hogwarts? Oh, Al, how funny it sounds!"

"Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, a bit irritated at this evident cheerful disrespect. "Would you be so kind as to introduce this young lady to me?"

"Young lady!" The girl was evidently pleased. "How nice! Daddy calls me that only when he catches me in wrongdoing."

Embarrassed, the boy smiled and said, "I'm sorry, Professor. This is Lily, my little sister. I've told her everything, and she wanted to meet you."

Lily! Though not unexpected, the name added another emotion to the many others that had stormed till that moment in Snape's soul. And yet, the girl in front of him carried only a pale trace of her grandmother's heritage in her features. Not the colour of her mischievous hazelnut eyes, not the shade of her reddish hair, reminding him too much of her Weasley blood. And what exactly had Albus Severus meant with "I've told her everything"?

But the portrait had no time to ask or add anything else because a small group of people was just entering the room, pushing the door that had been left half open. This time, the persons arriving were much quieter than the children, yet Snape looked at them with tumult in his heart.

Harry Potter! Harry Potter was coming. No more the scrawny lad he was in his school days, but a respectable grown up man properly dressed, steel spectacles on his nose and ruffled dark hair. Next to him, holding tightly to his arm, Snape recognised Ginny Weasley, as radiant as when she was a student, though slightly overweight. A mature Hermione Granger followed them, a big, suspiciously trembling smile on her face while she walked hand in hand with her little Rose. Now that mother and daughter were together, their resemblance was even more striking.

The man in the painting felt trapped. There was no way to escape. The day he had planned as a grateful gift to Minerva McGonagall was slowly transforming itself into a sort of judgment day in which the many memories of his past seemed to have been mercilessly gathered. He braced himself for the trial. From below, Albus Severus looked at the change occurring upon Snape's features, and turned to watch his parents in disconcertment.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," said the unexpectedly grave voice of the adult Harry Potter, and the portrait felt a powerful emotion rise through the fibres of his canvas; his old nemesis, the reincarnation of the man he had hated so much... and of the girl he had loved even more. There he was, looking at him with Albus Severus' same serene emerald green eyes.

Strangely, after those first polite words, it seemed that Potter hadn't anything else to say. He retreated quietly to near a desk while the two women added their greetings to his: Ginny a bit embarrassed, Hermione much more animated.

She must obviously be pleased by the astounding success of her daughter, Snape thought with a lopsided smile, considering Hermione's cheerful expression. The portrait watched his visitors with his habitual frown. It was so strange to see grown up those he had known children! And it was even stranger to consider that they were all the same age now. But the persons down there had a family and a life; they were not just empty memories fixed on a canvas, like – sadly – he was.

As always, Hermione was the first to react to the embarrassing silence that had followed that initial exchange of words.

"I'm very glad to know that you are teaching again, Professor!" she exclaimed. "I couldn't wish a better tutor for my daughter. I only hope she'll be up to the task."

"You don't have to worry, Madam Weasley," Snape replied, and he saw the eyebrows of his visitors rise at the sound of that voice coming from the past, yet never forgotten. They all were clearly mesmerized, so he continued with bitter satisfaction, "Your daughter has her mother's same keen intelligence. It's a pleasure to have her in my course. And not only she is brilliant, she is also respectful."

Ginny Potter blushed at that indirect allusion, and her eyes sparkled.

"Which I suppose can't be said of my first son," she declared, a little more acutely than needed.

"Although brilliant, young Mr. James Potter cannot be defined as exactly... respectful." Snape was very circumspect in the use of his terms. Albus Severus was looking at him, and he didn't want to hurt the child.

Perceiving the uneasiness of the man in the picture, Hermione immediately took control of the conversation again, exploring different topics related to the school, the feast and the place, and finally concluding, "It's wonderful to see how the classroom has been organized! Rose described me the way you check potions passing through these little portraits. I found it a very clever method."

This last consideration seemed obviously meant to flatter him, and he felt a bit irritated. But immediately after, her real purpose became clear. "Yet I was wondering: how will you manage to grade assignments, if I may ask?"

"I still haven't decided, Miss Granger," he answered, returning unconsciously to the more familiar name he was used to. "Until a few days ago, this course was only an experiment. However, yours is a good question. As you can imagine, we cannot call an artist each time there is an assignment, nor we can ask the students to paint their answers directly on the frames. I suppose I'll have to speak with Headmistress McGonagall about this matter."

Then his eyes narrowed in understanding. How could have he forgotten to whom he was talking? He nodded meaningfully and asked, "Any suggestion from you? I'm sure you have carefully studied the question."

Blushing in the same pleased pride of when she was a student, she replied immediately. "Well, yes, I think I have a possible solution."

"Indeed," Snape murmured softly. "How astonishing!"

Hermione looked a bit offended, but the portrait was surprised to see a smile rise and widen into a grin upon Harry Potter's face. The man didn't comment, but he was evidently amused at that reiteration of "know-it-all-ness" of his old friend. However, the conversation suddenly came to an end when the door opened again and let in an irritated Ron Weasley, dragging a reluctant little boy who was trying to escape his hold. The man reddened in embarrassment when he noticed all those gazes focused on his entrance.

"I'm sorry," he stammered in the intimidating silence, "but the boy went... I mean, Hugo was... Oh well! Good evening. I hope I didn't miss anything important."

"Mr. Weasley!" Snape replied with his characteristic sardonic tone. "Always late! What did you choose this time for your trip? Another flying car?"

Though evidently uneasy, Ron found his mischievous grin again. "Well, now I have a driving licence, so I suppose I could dare to drive one with better results. Or perhaps I could try with a plane."

His sister smiled while his wife frowned, and Snape felt suddenly cut off. Out there, there was a world that was totally unknown to him and that probably he would never get to know. Painful as it might be, those people were his connection with the past and his bridge to the future. And a disturbing consideration followed: incredible as it might seem, he would be there also when they would be there no more. The idea was simply scary. How would he feel when all the people he had known had disappeared or transformed into portraits too?

His gaze intercepted Albus Severus' trustful eyes. The boy was smiling to his sister, and Snape sadly thought that soon he too would grow up into an adult and go away. But perhaps his children would come to Hogwarts in the future, and perhaps Snape would be allowed to play again a part in the life of a family that had played such an important role in his existence.

The portrait was so intent in his thoughts that he barely heard Hermione announce her intention to meet with Headmistress McGonagall, to speak about her suggestion. Following her words, a stream of electricity ran through the room and, immediately after, all the people inside there were busy performing the curious ballet called "bidding goodbye". Suddenly, all the unsaid questions and answers seemed to condense and hang still in the air while frenzied activity took place. Ginny gathered her children. Hermione joined Ron in reining in the overexcited Hugo who wanted to see the fireworks organised by his uncle George. Ron was evidently relieved to leave the room, and his wife cast him a reproachful glance while Rose added her personal contribution to the happy chaos.

In the middle of this confusion, Harry Potter advanced slowly and positioned himself under the frame. All the others began to retreat towards the door and, from their reaction, Snape understood that leaving Harry behind had been part of a planned scheme. He sighed inwardly. What could Harry Potter possibly want from him?

He felt exhausted and suddenly irate. How wrong he had been, throwing himself again into the worries of real life right at the moment he had reached a blissful nothingness!

Raising his eyes as if searching for help, he saw Albus Severus and Lily walk to the door, obediently following their mother; yet they were continuously turning their heads to look at him, as if they were trying to tell him something. Then the door closed, and silence filled the room. The portrait and the man were definitely alone, and Snape sighed inwardly again.

"I suppose you have something to say, Potter," he said in a quiet, disarming tone. "Please speak, and then leave me to my blessed solitude."

His visitor nodded gravely, looking at the portrait with sympathetic eyes.

"I understand your feelings," Harry replied. "I would have preferred to come here alone. But you know Hermione. She couldn't resist paying a visit and asking you that question! She hasn't changed a bit in nineteen years!"

Harry smiled, an amused expression diffusing upon his face – so different from the wary, defiant look that Snape remembered so well! – then he turned serious again.

"It's not easy for me to say what I came to say. You see, we all feel guilty. We saw only the bad in you. But we judged through eyes that had deliberately been impaired. Dumbledore told me the truth only after my death."

The portrait startled in shock. "Your... death?" he whispered.

"I had been forced to consign myself to Voldemort before the last battle, and he cast the Avada Kedavra. Technically, I was dead. But, as a matter of fact, he didn't harm me because the drops of my blood that had regenerated him and that were still in his veins protected me. However, I fell under his curse and, during a loss of consciousness, I spoke with Dumbledore in a sort of vision. There he revealed the truth to me, but I was too upset to understand it in its full meaning."

His eyes become suddenly sparkling.

"I still have to thank you for... for what you gave me in the Shrieking Shack."

Snape paled in pain. Harry seemed to realise how hurtful those memories were, yet he resolutely continued. "Though you had given me the key to understanding the facts, it wasn't simple for me to recognize the truth. It wasn't easy to admit that the man who had scolded, punished, insulted and given me detentions for six long years, the traitor who had run away as a bloody coward after having killed his Headmaster and mentor before my eyes..." – here Harry gulped and paused for a moment; then he concluded softly – "It wasn't easy to accept that this man had been the loyal guardian of my life... and my real protector."

In the silence following this declaration, the portrait closed his eyes. With a weary movement, Snape massaged the bridge of his nose and lowered his head, closing himself in meditation.

Harry bit his lower lip, trying to find the right words.

"I don't know if we will ever get to overcome our memories," he continued slowly. "But perhaps my children will. Albus Severus told me that you are mentoring him, and I am very glad to see how much he is enjoying your lessons. I know that James, on the contrary, is a much tougher character to deal with. He is furious with you now, just as I was so many years ago. He accuses you of being partial and nasty. I suppose he will have to learn the hard way, exactly as I did."

The man in the portrait was still breathing slowly, eyes lost in remoteness, and Harry straightened himself.

"I am happy I have had the chance to tell you all this. I had delayed this moment for too much," he said, waiting for a reaction. But only silence answered his declaration, so he lowered his head and added sadly, "I will leave you now, as I promised. Good bye, Professor Snape."

He nervously raked his hair with his hand, in the characteristic gesture of his youth. The scar was still well visible on his forehead and Snape looked at it in fascination. Speaking haltingly, as if words were forcing their way out against his will, the portrait finally stated, "Albus Severus has a promising talent. I hope he will soon be allowed to join my course."

Harry raised his face again, a controlled joy diffusing upon his features for that answer that revealed a world behind it.

"I'm sure he will. He is a very kind but determined boy."

Then, after a pause, he offered his last gift, "Now you know why we gave him his name. For better or for worse, Albus Dumbledore has shaped my destiny. But, without you, I would have never fulfilled it."

Disappearing again in a remote distance, Snape nodded in silence.

"Good bye then, Professor Snape," Harry greeted.

"Good bye, Mr. Potter."

With a smooth movement, Harry turned his shoulders and walked towards the door. But as soon as he opened it, he stumbled upon Albus Severus and Lily, who were waiting outside the room with guilty expressions on their faces.

"What are you doing here?" Harry inquired, trying to sound authoritative but immediately spoiling the effect with a smile.

"Just a moment, Dad!" Lily pleaded. "Al must show me a... a thing."

Harry turned to look back over his shoulder; the tremulous light of the torches was dancing in the room, and the portrait was still staring blankly at the void, lost in his mysterious thoughts. He smiled again in complicity.

"A secret, uh? Well, young lady, don't make your mum wait too much for you. You are not supposed to remain in Hogwarts like your brothers. And remember, we must say goodbye to Aunt Minerva before going home."

The children nodded enthusiastically, then they entered the room running in excitement. Smiling, Harry waited and saw them stop under the portrait, exactly as he had expected.

"Good night, Severus!" he silently wished, closing the door.

As soon as they were alone, the children raised their heads with a relieved sigh.

"Hello, Professor!" Lily greeted the man in the portrait with cheerful familiarity. "We are back!"

"Glad to see you again, Miss Potter," Snape forced himself to reply, crossing his arms and recovering his usual frown.

The small girl considered the wizard with embarrassing intensity. Then she turned to her brother, who was evidently uneasy. "He is much better than I thought!"

Al became scarlet and raised two imploring eyes, "You must excuse her, Professor. She is only a girl."

Lily raised her head proudly. "I think he can see that by himself!" she snapped. "However, I might be a girl, but the idea was mine."

She looked up again, and a smile lit her features. "I have a present for you, Professor."

"Well, what a nice thought, Miss Potter," Snape declared impatiently, half amused, half irritated at the impertinence of the little witch, yet somehow unable to scold her.

Al looked even more distressed.

"She... she is just a small girl," he repeated uncomfortably, but Lily silenced him with a disdainful glance, then opened a little rectangular flat package.

"I hope you'll like it," she said, lifting the object so that Snape could see it.

"I'm sure that..." Snape began to reply. But his voice stopped and choked while his eyes opened in immense, awesome shock.

From a little picture, a red haired, lovely young woman was smiling at him, and Snape stepped back with a sharp gasp.

"Lily!" he exclaimed brokenly.

The children looked at each other and smiled.