Epilogue

"I have an announcement to make." Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall, and it sounded more cheerful than anybody had heard him speak for many weeks. "Professor Snape is now on the best way to recover from the severe injuries inflicted upon him by Voldemort and his minions." A shudder ran through the assembled students at the mention of the dreaded name. Although the headmaster had never officially explained what had happened to their Potions master, they had heard plenty of rumors. So it was indeed true that the sinister professor was not a Dark wizard and follower of You-Know-Who as many had suspected, but had helped Dumbledore fight the monster. And apparently, he had paid for it. "I am pleased to tell you that he will, most probably, start teaching again after the Easter holidays," continued the headmaster. "I expect you to give him the warm welcome a loyal fighter on the side of the Light deserves."

Dumbledore sat down again, ignoring the excited mumbling and chattering of his charges. Severus had always found some sort of morbid delight in the rumors that had grown up around his person over the years, the most persistent being that he was a vampire. Therefore, it wouldn't be he who stopped the gossiping. Everything that might cheer up the recuperating young wizard was more than welcome.

Severus had been staying at Headquarters for quite a while now, together with Remus Lupin, so he wouldn't have to worry about curious students watching their feared Potions master making his first feeble steps on the long road to recovery. Most of his memories had come back by now, good ones as well as bad ones, and unfortunately, the latter were the more abundant, especially in the nightmares that frequently haunted him. Dumbledore was glad that Remus and Severus seemed to get along much better than he had anticipated, though this might be no more than an indicator of the fact that the Slytherin wasn't entirely back to his old sarcastic self yet, and this was rather worrying. On the other hand, without James and Sirius around, there might even be a chance for the two former schoolmates to eventually become friends after all, who knew?

To distract the man from his troublesome memories, they had set up a nice little Potions lab in one of the spacious cellar rooms at the old Black mansion, which strongly reminded one of a dungeon. Knowing the Black family, it probably had served exactly that purpose. Severus couldn't brew for long stretches of time yet, since his knees would start aching and another bout of migraine would be almost inevitable if he overexerted himself. Thus, complicated potions like the Wolfsbane were still out of the question. However, with the help of some handy charms Filius Flitwick had taught him, and the devoted service of one house-elf by the name of Winky, he managed remarkably well so far. Well enough to resume teaching in a couple of weeks, hopefully.

Contrary to what most students probably thought, Severus was quite good with house-elves, at least as long as they didn't talk too much or try to mollycoddle him. This was common knowledge among the Hogwarts house-elves, and they usually respected the Potions master's idiosyncrasies. Little Winky was absolutely adoring in her miniature white lab suit and gloves – her special work equipment, not clothes, oh no! – and she was learning quickly how to skillfully cut up and prepare ingredients, clean the glassware, knives, and cauldrons, and keep the stores in order. She was so busy and proud of being the Potions master's personal house-elf that she had completely given up on butterbeer, another positive effect of the arrangement.

Ironically, Severus was otherwise pretty much in the same situation as one Sirius Black had been the previous year, locked up at Headquarters and unable to do much for the Order except for giving advice, and he didn't take it much better than the Animagus. Patience had never been one of Severus's prominent character traits, except when dealing with complex potions, and Dumbledore knew the man would give his life to be able to storm at the Death Eaters this very instant and take revenge. On the other hand, the Slytherin was more reasonable and cunning than the late Gryffindor, at least when not in a senseless rage, and therefore would grudgingly content himself with waiting and working silently for the perfect chance to finally destroy Voldemort and his Death Eaters. This was how snakes went hunting, and the thought would certainly keep him going. At least for a while.


******************************

The classroom door opened with the characteristic bang, and in came the Potions master, black robes billowing behind him. He looked gaunt and pale, even for his standards, and his stride was missing its usual vigor; however, the withering death-glare the Professor shot at Neville Longbottom when he tipped his flask of diluted Bundimun secretion was unmistakably the old Snape. Curiously enough, Neville didn't cringe but smiled apologetically at his Professor while wiping up the spilled fluid that slowly ate through the work bench. The boy was much too happy these days to let a mere glare get to him.

After fifteen years at St. Mungo's closed ward and to the surprise of everyone, including the Healers and, most of all, Healer Hippocampus, his parents were finally recovering. A gigantic Acromantula had done the trick for his father, and his mother had been shocked out of insanity by a genuine but well-fed Vampire. It had taken some time for them to come to terms with the fact that their little baby boy was already a young man and that they had missed out on fifteen years of their lives. However, they would be allowed to leave St. Mungo's soon, and then they would finally be a normal family again. Neville’s smile deepened at the warm memory of his mother suddenly recalling his name. No, a little rebuke from his teacher couldn't quench his new happiness. After all, in some way, his parents wouldn't be recovering if it hadn't been for Snape.

One rather pleasant change for the students was that Snape didn’t constantly hover over the brewing teenagers, breathing down their necks like a scary overlarge bat and spouting criticism and insults, but stayed in his chair or stood leaning to the edge of his desk during most of the double lesson. In the latter position, he looked rather awkward since he didn’t seem to know what to do with his right hand, as he couldn’t cross his arms in front of his chest anymore. Nevertheless, nothing, not the tiniest error or briefest inattention, escaped his scrutinizing gaze.

When Snape deducted ten points from Gryffindor because Harry had added the dragon’s blood to his Power-Cleaning solution before the powdered Saponaria, causing an explosion of sticky green goo that bubbled up and released a stench that ominously reminded of troll dung, Harry glared angrily back. However, he quickly lowered his gaze again and began cleaning up the mess. Hermione was right, he probably should pay more attention, or his lack of it might cause a dangerous accident one day. And, as it was Snape's responsibility to ensure safety in his classroom, it was no wonder he was rather strict about things and didn't tolerate sloppiness. Only that he deducted more points from Gryffindor than from any other house still irked Harry a lot. After almost six Snape-free months, however, Gryffindor had accumulated so many House points already that it was almost impossible to not win the House Cup this year. And the Quidditch Cup was undoubtedly theirs, too, with him as Seeker and Ron as Keeper ...

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, Miss Granger," Snape suddenly announced after the students had handed in their potion samples for grading. "Before you leave, there is something for you in the storeroom, second shelf on the left. Mr. Malfoy, would you please follow me to my office?"

***********************************

“Pinch me, Hermione, I believe I’m dreaming. Those are not presents, are they?” asked Ron incredulously. His entire view on life seemed to shatter at the sight of the gift boxes wrapped in green and silver wrappings.

“No, Ron. This is quite real.” His friend smiled, reached for the envelope with Ron’s name on it and held it out to him. “This one even looks as if it were for you.” Of course, my gift is the smallest, if it was a gift at all and not a simple thank-you card, Ron thought darkly. Although, I hadn’t even expected that much from the surly Potions master.

When he opened the envelope and peeked inside, Ron’s eyes grew wide despite his initial disappointment. “Wow, tickets for the Chudley Cannon match next weekend, two of them, and prime seats at that!” The note attached to the tickets informed him that a Portkey would be arranged for him and a certain Miss Greenleaf to take them to the stadium and back again.

A certain Miss Greenleaf? How could the greasy git possibly know about Silene? He hadn’t known himself until quite recently. Did the slimy Slytherin, now that he couldn’t spy on Voldemort anymore, use his double agent skills on his students? Glorious prospects, indeed.

There was a card, too, green with a silver Slytherin crest and no more than two words on it, ‘Thank you’, plus the initials S.S.. So, Snape knew how to spell the words after all, thought Ron, though he doubted that the Professor was capable of actually uttering them. And he’d surely rather bite off his tongue than say them in the presence of a student, especially if the student was a Gryffindor. Not that Ron was exactly keen on having a private talk with the Potions teacher, and the thought of having to shake hands with the greasy git gave him the creeps. No, better a short and painless card. And probably, it hadn’t even been that painless for Snape to write down those two words thinking of whom he owed his life to. And the fact that he had Neville Longbottom’s blood coursing through his veins now must surely be beyond painful for the Head of Slytherin. Ron chuckled and turned to his friend. “What did you get, ‘Mione? A Potions book?”

“A brand new one, ‘Complex Potions for True Masters’; it’s not even on sale yet! And there’s a dedication: ‘For a most promising student, Perseus Evans.’ That’s the author! It even has the Wolfsbane recipe ...”

“Oh, stop it, ‘Mione!” Ron exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Get your nose out of that book and open that other little box, it’s for you, too.” Hermione tore her eyes off her new possession with an effort and began to unwrap the second parcel that was labeled with her name.

“Another bracelet for Crookshanks! And Snape put a tracing spell on it. That’s nice.” She could even use both bracelets together; the filigreed silver one with emeralds Draco had given her for Christmas would go perfectly with the enchanted black one here, Hermione mused. If not for his ginger color, Crooks would look like a Slytherin mascot with those ...

Softly chuckling at the thought, Hermione turned around and looked at Neville’s gift. It was by far the largest one. Neville was smiling as he read the note that went with the shining cauldron. “It’s a Cauldron-Never-Burn, a recent invention by some American. A real hit in the States. Think that there are quite a few wizards there who have the same problem I have, and even without having Snape breathing down their necks and making them jumpy! It starts sounding an alarm as soon as the contents in the cauldron near boiling point. Potions lessons should be a lot safer now.” Neville grinned widely.

“Looks as if Snape found the right thing for everybody. Wonder what’s in Ginny’s box? A little booklet or something?” Ron wondered.

“Let’s go give it to her, Ron,” Hermione proposed. “She’ll be in the Great Hall having lunch. And I’m rather hungry, too.”

“Me too, 'Mione, I could eat an entire horse,” Ron agreed. “And I have to tell Silene about the tickets!”

For the first time in six years, the three Gryffindors left the Potions classroom chuckling and chatting instead of fuming with anger and frustration or, in Neville’s case, scared out of their minds.


************************************

At the same time in the Potions master’s office, Draco was fidgeting nervously with the hems of his robes as he stood awkwardly in front of his professor.

“Take a seat, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape finally said, and Draco sat down in the indicated armchair in front of the large fire place in Snape’s office, opposite from his teacher. This arrangement certainly was very unusual, since students always had to take the rather uncomfortable chair in front of the desk, if they were allowed to sit at all.

“Sir, I want to apologize for what ...” Draco began, but he was interrupted unceremoniously by his professor.

“No, Mr. Malfoy, you don’t need to apologize for anything,” Snape said firmly. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one to blame since it was I who invented that blasted Imperio potion in the first place. You aren’t responsible for what happened. You are only responsible for what you did afterwards, and that you can be proud of.” A short moment of silence ensued that gave Draco the chance to let Snape’s words sink in before his Head of House spoke again.

“I assume you are going to take the Mark as soon as you turn seventeen?”

Trust Snape to not beat around the bush ... Draco thought and nodded slowly.

“The headmaster told me what happened, and what you are planning,” Snape continued. “You are aware of how difficult this will be, and of the extreme danger? Mortal danger?” Snape asked in a tone that made Draco’s skin crawl. Swallowing dryly, Draco nodded again. He had seen with his own eyes how badly Voldemort reacted to treachery. He only needed to look at his teacher, at the black cloak that hid what he knew wasn’t there anymore. The thought alone made him shudder. However, his resolve stood firm. He would take the Dark Mark and spy on his future master so his children, if he ever was to have any, would grow up without the threat of darkness looming over them. Who knew, perhaps he was even going to marry a certain ‘Mudblood’, and he couldn’t possibly do that as long as Voldemort was around. His lips curled up in a grim smile at the thought and his pale eyes shone with determination.

“I see I won’t be able to talk you out of this.” Snape sighed resignedly at seeing the expression on Draco’s face. “And the Order dearly needs a spy now that I can’t do the job any longer.” The older wizard’s onyx eyes darkened and he fell silent for a moment. “However, this is no children’s game,” he finally continued, “and you need to be prepared as well as possible. You’ll need to learn how to occlude your mind against external penetration. And you better be good at it, or you won’t stand a chance against the Dark Lord. But I daresay you’ll surely master this obscure branch of magic far better than a certain Gryffindor celebrity. You aren’t a Slytherin for nothing, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape looked at Draco with undisguised pride, a look that made the boy’s heart jump with joy.

“Of course, you must not be seen to associate with a known traitor to the so-called cause outside classes as not to arouse suspicion,” Snape then cautioned. “I’ll give you the password to the secret passage that leads from the Slytherin common room to my private quarters. Feel free to use it whenever you want.” He smiled reassuringly at the blond Slytherin. “As you will surely hear soon enough, I gave those Gryffindor saviors of mine some presents. To you, however, I want to offer my sincere thanks and my friendship. My door will always be open to you, Draco.”

“Thank you, sir,” the future spy managed to stutter, utterly baffled by the professor’s words, and, at the same time, immensely proud.

“Draco, are you quite sure nobody suspects anything?” Snape suddenly asked, his voice laced with worry. “There’ve been rumors about you and a certain Gryffindor know-it-all. And then there was this owl to your father, and people surely observed you frequently visiting the hospital wing while I was sick.”

“Oh, that’s no problem, sir. That was only to spy on you.” A sly smile graced Draco’s lips. “And Hermione is nothing but a means to get closer to Wonderboy Potter – officially. My mother took the blame for the owl. She’s going to stay in Switzerland in hiding until the war is over.” Snape nodded thoughtfully. He was probably the only one who had known for years that Narcissa had stayed with Lucius and kept up the facade of a perfectly functioning pure-blood family only for the sake of her son. It was only logical that she would protect Draco, even if it meant for her to live in exile and apart from her son for years. At least, she was away from Lucius now, Snape thought darkly.

“You know that your father and I once were friends?” he asked abruptly. “Or rather, I thought we were.” He looked to the floor, almost sounding sad for a moment. Then he locked his gaze with Draco’s again. “I didn’t realize it was nothing but a lie until I found myself up to my eyes in a swamp of blood, and death, and pain. Dumbledore gave me a second chance. I’m glad you took your first one.” The rare smile Snape gave the young wizard was so sincere and full of affection and pride it made Draco’s heart skip a beat. He had never seen his acerbic Potions teacher smile like this. Nor, in fact, his father. The friendship of this man was worth all the trouble and danger he had gotten himself into; it was the most precious gift he had ever received, except probably for Hermione. He would make sure to not disappoint the Professor, not ever.

“Professor, you are all right, aren’t you?” Draco asked with sudden concern.

“Don’t worry, Draco. As long as I have my wandarm to fight with ...” It was Snape’s turn to smile grimly, and Draco was more than glad he was on the same side now. He wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of the Professor’s wrath, no, Merlin forbid.

Finally, Snape rose. “You better go get yourself some lunch or you’ll be late for Transfiguration. You don’t want McGonagall to deduct House points from Slytherin, do you? And I need some rest before I can face another batch of dunderheads ...” He accompanied Draco to the door. “Take care, Draco.”

“You too, Professor.”

Smiling back at his Head of house, Draco left for the Great Hall.



The End

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Sorry for the delay, I had to fix quite a few errors before this last chapter was accepted ...

In case you wonder what was in Ginny’s gift box: a magical diary, but no Dark magic involved this time. And, of course, Hermione will eventually figure out who the author of her new Potions book is; she isn’t the brightest witch in her year for nothing. Whether she and Draco are going to marry after their graduation is up to your fancy ... Silene latifolia, by the way, is a very pretty white little wild flower, and Hippocampus is a portion of the brain’s temporal lobe; I thought those names were quite fitting for a Hufflepuff and a brain specialist ... Winky as Sev’s lab assistant in her nice lab ‘equipment’ I borrowed from a story by excessivelyperky called ‘The Birthday Present’. It takes place during the summer holidays after Harry’s 5th year, has some Harry and lots of Snape, including torture, near-death, all the good stuff, LOL (on ff.net).

Hope I got all the lose ends tied up, at least the important ones. Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed it! And don’t forget to leave a final review, it would make the humble author very, very happy ...