Severus smelled the typical scent of the sterile environment hitting his nostrils as soon as being coherent was deemed appropriate, and slowly felt his eyes fluttering for a moment before they eased open. The room around him was blurry for a moment, likely due from lack of use of his eyes, but, after blinking a few times, the fog seemed to clear, and he realized where he was. He figured out that he was sitting in a hospital room, due to the scent and the sights around him, but one thing that he was surprised about was the feeling of something wrapped around his right wrist and, upon looking down, saw that he was handcuffed to the bed.

The door opened shortly thereafter, and a woman with brown hair, pulled back into a reserved bun, looked him over before stepping forward. "Ah, Mr. Snape, you're awake," she said, and came closer, inspecting his chart. "I'm Helga, your nurse. Can I get you anything?"

"W...Water," Severus managed to get out, his voice groggy.

"Yes, that would make sense," the woman called Helga replied with a nod, and marked something in his chart before getting him the water. She held the cup against his lips and gently tipped it backwards, and Severus worked double time to swallow, his throat slightly raw, due to the inner-workings being sore.

"What day is it?" Severus whispered, as soon as he had drunk his full.

"Monday, the eighteenth of May," replied Helena brightly, tossing away the cup and moving back to Severus's chart. "You've been in a coma for five weeks and two days."

Severus managed to push himself into a sitting position, and Helga rushed forward, promptly fluffing up his pillows and making sure that he was comfortable. "What about the other young men I was admitted with?" he asked.

"Mr. Malfoy is doing quite well, and was released from hospital a fortnight ago, but I am not at liberty to discuss anything further," Helga told him honestly. "As for young Mr. Black, he was justifiably shaken up due to the ordeal, but was not injured physically."

Severus nodded, relieved that he seemed to have gotten the worst of it. "That's a relief," he said as Helga went towards the phone beside his bed, and keyed in some sort of code, before she picked it up. "Yes, cafeteria? This is Nurse Hufflepuff," she said into the receiver. "Please send up some chicken consommé to room 326," she said into the phone. "Patient name is Severus Tobias Snape. Thank you," she said, and set the phone back down into the receiver. "Dr. Hopkirk shall be up here shortly, Mr. Snape, to check you over," Nurse Hufflepuff went on with a small smile. "Is there anything else you needed?"

"Yes," he replied. "Why am I handcuffed to the bed?" he asked.

Nurse Hufflepuff sighed. "That, I'm afraid, is a rather complex question..."

Severus sighed, leaning back upon his pillows. "Of course it is," he muttered, but didn't seek out Nurse Hufflepuff for anything further. It wasn't long before an orderly arrived with a tray of steaming chicken consommé, and a small pitcher of water, which Nurse Hufflepuff took as her cue to retrieve a glass for him. Severus was permitted to move just so in an effort to feed himself, which he just managed to do. He only managed about half the bowl, although it was rather delicious, until a middle-aged woman with pale brown hair and a rather pointed face entered his hospital room, and Nurse Hufflepuff left.

"Ah, Mr. Snape, so wonderful to have you back with us," the new woman said. "I'm Dr. Hopkirk, and it's a pleasure to meet you at last. Let's check your vital signs, shall we?" Her question went unanswered as she stepped forward and got to work and, once she had completed her task, added her thoughts to Severus's patient chart. "Yes, your sight seems to be back in working order, and you've managed to eat a fair amount of your first meal, meaning that your digestive tract hasn't atrophied completely. We'll have you up and walking soon enough, as we'll need to make sure to strengthen your muscles accordingly..."

Severus nodded. "Seems reasonable," he replied, not knowing what else to say in this particular situation, as deciding what his medical treatment should be was not something he was altogether familiar with.

"You seem to be hearing excellently as well, which will be beneficial once you leave," Dr. Hopkirk went on, and Severus wondered when that would be, although he didn't have the courage to ask, given that he was literally handcuffed to his hospital bed. "Yes, I propose some water therapy for you, first and foremost, for it may prove to be easier for you to walk in one of our rehabilitation pools before you do so on land..."

"Pardon me, Dr. Hopkirk," Severus interrupted, and the woman gazed at him from atop the medical chart she held. "But perhaps you can enlighten me as to why I'm handcuffed?" he asked, hoping that this woman wouldn't jerk him around.

Dr. Hopkirk surveyed Severus for a moment before she sighed, lowering the chart after finishing up her notes. "You're being held here on suspicion of statutory rape, Mr. Snape," she said gravely, her gray eyes filling with discomfort.

Severus stiffened from within his hospital bed at the saddened tone of the woman's words; of course, in the eyes of the law, he was as guilty as sin, but he couldn't go broadcasting that fact, now could he? Not when Harry had been so adamant that their night together had been utterly consensual, and that he didn't regret any of it for a moment?

"Yes, I see," Severus remarked softly, knowing that her statement deserved a response, no matter how many plausible answers there were for it.

"The man who attacked you in your flat, however, has been found out to be Sirius Black, thanks to his adopted son's say-so, and Mr. Malfoy's statement to law enforcement," Dr. Hopkirk went on, and Severus nodded.

"And where is he now?"

"Sirius Black?" Dr. Hopkirk asked, and, at Severus nod, replied, "He was surrounded by police after fleeing to Yorkshire, and ended up shooting himself at the scene."

Severus swallowed. "Is he alive?"

"Yes, he was held in hospital until the bullet was removed from his stomach, and then he was transferred directly to Manchester, where he's already been charged with one count of attempted premeditated murder, as well as one count of involuntary manslaughter."

Severus felt a lump developing in his throat at the news, which caused him to nod. "Yes. I know it was him," he said softly.

"The police will likely want to speak with you, once I give word that you've woken up," Dr. Hopkirk went on, and looked behind her for a moment, before turning back to face Severus for a moment. "You've been put on leave from your position at Magical Kinship, in accordance with the investigation, with the full approval of your superior, Albus Dumbledore."

Severus nodded. "Yes, I understand," he told her.

"The statutory rape charge may stick, as young Mr. Black is apparently too traumatized to speak with the police further," Dr. Hopkirk whispered. "I'm old friends with Remus, his guardian, and it is only with his permission that I am sharing this information with you."

"He's traumatized?" Severus whispered, shaking his head. "Dear lord..."

"He apparently spoke to the police on the day of the shooting, twice. Once to give them the story, and the second to amend his statement. Nowhere in the statements taken by police is there a mention of an inappropriate relationship with you, Mr. Snape."

Severus blinked, shocked at this sudden declaration. "You mean to tell me that Harry is denying that we are anything more to each other?"

"Yes, as he should," Dr. Hopkirk replied, nodding. "Whatever the authorities are insinuating happened between the two of you is against the law, no matter what the two of you claim to feel for one another."

Severus stiffened. "Yes, I see."

"I am not against you loving one another, Mr. Snape, not at all," the woman said softly. "I am, however, against coercion."

"There was none of that," Severus said, permitting himself to glare at the woman. "There was absolutely none of that, I assure you. I may be questionable in many ways—falling in love with a seventeen-year-old boy, and giving way to impulsive behavior every now and again, as well as not following through with certain things... But to actually stand there and paint me as some sort of monster who would willingly force disgusting acts onto a minor, without their permission or consent, is wholly reprehensible, and I would sooner be thrown in jail than admit to doing something like that."

Dr. Hopkirk sighed. "Harry has asked to see you," she said after a few moments. "Would you be amenable to speaking with him?"

"Yes, I would," Severus replied. "I'd be glad to."

Dr. Hopkirk looked amazed at Severus's apparent willingness, but nevertheless lowered the clipboard back onto its appendage onto the foot of the bed and crossed the room. She wore a cream-colored outfit that day, along with a baby blue cardigan on the outside of her starched cream-colored blouse. Black heels clicking unmercilessly on the hardwood floor of the hospital room, she made her way directly to the door and opened it, hesitated for a moment before she stepped out into the corridor, the door squeaking closed behind her.

Severus made himself comfortable in his hospital bed again, punching the bolsters behind him into place and dragging the too-thin blanket closer around him. Despite the fact that it was now the month of May, there seemed to be a drizzle outside that was threatening to become a heavy downpour, and Severus was relieved not to be out in it. The clouds were pearl-gray, and were easily ridding themselves of the rain as it littered the streets, cars, sidewalks, buildings, and people lurking below it, and Severus hoped that they had proper rain gear, or at least an umbrella, to keep themselves dry.

The door opened a few minutes later, and Harry stepped inside the hospital room on his own. He seemed more assured by something as he crossed the path from the door, which automatically closed behind him, and towards Severus's bed. He made a grab for a visitor's chair close by and pulled it towards the side of the bed, giving Severus a smile that could only be described as "polite", if any positive adjectives readily came to mind. As he perched on the chair, he folded his hands upon his knees, and hesitated for a moment.

"Harry," Severus said softly, wanting more than anything to reach out towards him, but made no move to do so. "Are you all right?"

Harry swallowed. "In all honesty, Severus, I've been better."

Severus sighed. "Dr. Hopkirk told me about what happened with Sirius," he said gently, not wanting to upset the young man.

"Yes, it was quite a shock," Harry told him with a nod. "How could he just lose control like that?" he queried, although Severus knew that the question was rhetorical, and shook his head a little sadly. "He was supposed to be my father..."

"Harry, he acted how many fathers, or parents in general, would have reacted—"

"He reacted on falsehoods, Severus," Harry told him gently, and Severus stared at Harry, unsure of the young man's meaning.

"Falsehoods? What are you...?"

"Severus, Sirius told police that you and I were acting inappropriately," Harry went on, although his tone was bland, as if he was hiding something close to his chest. "He made it a point to tell them that I spent the night at your flat, and Narcissa and Draco have already come forward to witness the fact that I was at the estate that night after my party."

Severus shook his head. "I don't understand. I know that we..."

"Severus, Dr. Hopkirk informed me and Remus..." He cleared his throat. "...me and Dad that you would experience some false memories for a time after awakening from your coma."

"False memories? Harry, I don't..."

"No, I don't expect you to," Harry told him with a kind smile. "Essentially, you created a scenario in which you believed you and I went too far. I'll admit, I find you attractive, and admitted as much to the police, but claimed that at no point in time did you know about the attraction, nor did you act inappropriately with me."

"Harry..."

"No, Severus, let me finish," Harry said quickly, cutting across him. "I told them that you swore an oath about doing no harm when you became a social worker—just like doctors do—and that you would never cross any kind of inappropriate lines with me."

"Harry, Sirius was in my flat, and he saw..."

"He misunderstood," Harry told him, and Severus watched as he straightened up in the hospital chair he sat in. "Draco accompanied me to your flat after we spent the night at the estate. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were there as well, like on Halloween, where we also didn't cross lines of any kind," he continued. "The next day, after Ron, Hermione, and Ginny slept off their wretched hangovers, Draco went with me to your flat so that I could thank you personally for allowing me to be adopted by Sirius."

"Harry..."

"However," Harry continued, as if Severus had not spoken, "Sirius was worried because my phone battery had died, and Ron, thinking he was being helpful, informed Sirius of where Draco and I were when Sirius contacted him, looking for me. however, Sirius misunderstood, and thought that Draco had just driven me to your flat, and wasn't there with me."

"Harry, you're not making sense..."

"Oh, I think it makes perfect sense, Severus," Harry replied patiently. "You see, Sirius's family has a history of mental illness, just look at his cousin and Narcissa's sister, Bellatrix, who had to leave the social work game and was sent to Broadmoor for obsessive compulsive personality disorder, and a whole battery of other things. Sirius has succumbed completely to madness, and is refusing treatment, so much so that, unfortunately, he'll be sent to prison, as he doesn't believe that a place like Broadmoor is suitable for him."

Severus sank into his bed, shivering from head to toe at Harry's words, wondering just how mad he was, to imagine such a relationship with Harry... "So, you're saying, that you and I haven't crossed any lines?"

"None of the kind Sirius is proclaiming, no," Harry assured him, and gave him a soft smile. "I assure you that the police are on the way, to get that wretched thing off you," he said, and nodded at the handcuff. "You've no need of it."

"No?" Severus asked.

"No," Harry said softly, shaking his head. He looked around then, before moving to offer his hand to Severus, and shook it, before he whispered, "Not everything is as it seems."

Severus blinked. "Pardon?" he asked.

Harry smiled a little sadly then, before he repeated, "Not everything is as it seems. Reality is an illusion, nothing is real, life is but a dream," before letting go of Severus's hand and, turning around, left his hospital room without looking back.

~*~

Harry had been holed up in his bedroom for two consecutive weekends studying for his A-Levels, and, when he was taking the mandatory breaks that Remus had ordered him to take, he was sitting with Luca Zabini, going over his testimony for his upcoming trial with Sirius. Not only was he preparing to have his adoption nullified, but he was also preparing to stand as a witness to the shooting of Draco Malfoy and Severus himself. He hated, hated lying, but knew it was the only chance to save Severus. Even though Draco thought he was mad, he'd agreed to it, and, subsequently, so, too had Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who were just beginning to speak to Harry again.

When Harry was finally a week away from the A-Levels, at the beginning of June, he found that he could not go through another minute of studying. After promising Hermione to cram with her, Ron, Ginny, and Draco—Hermione because she was taking the same classes the boys were, and Ginny because she wanted to get a jump-start for her A-Levels next year—on the last three days, Harry pulled out his computer and got to work on something else. Oliver had been pestering him about The Wicked Count, and Harry had plenty to do, since it was decided that the eighth and ninth books respectively would be released at the same time. With Severus in hospital, Harry found that writing the literal love story of Hadrian Peverell and Sebastian Prince was downright devastating, but he had a deadline to keep, and an agent to keep happy. He plodded through both books long into the night but, finally, he got the final drafts of both books done the night before he was due to cram with Hermione and the rest of them, and promptly sent them off to Oliver, knowing that this was the beginning of the end.

Harry awoke on the day of his A-Levels feeling drained; as soon as his final exam was over, he had to meet Remus and Luca in the courtroom to testify against Sirius. The adoption had been nullified rather quickly, so Remus was now legally his father, thanks to a high-ranking judge owing Luca a favor. Harry had told Remus that he would rather become 'Potter' again and Remus, much to his surprise, agreed. However, Harry asked that he would be able to change his middle name to 'Remus', so as to distance himself somewhat from James, who had never truly been a father to him in the first place, and Remus thought it was a wonderful idea.

Harry arrived at court within the hour of completing his final A-Level, and was relieved that Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny had agreed to be there for him that day. He was further relieved that there had been no resentment or backlash from either Narcissa Malfoy or the Weasleys, who firmly believed that Sirius had acted out of line, and that Draco and Severus were merely casualties, with Harry being collateral damage. Harry waited with his friends until he was called, and his friends promptly journeyed to the gallery while Harry was led to the witness stand, where Judge Albert Runcorn was staring him down. Harry decided he would not permit the man to intimidate him in any way, and merely sat up in the straight-backed chair, awaiting to speak only when spoken to.

"State your name for the record," came Judge Runcorn's commanding voice; his pale blue eyes glared at Harry, and the man sported a full beard and black hair, which curled ever so slightly, in the same color of his beard.

Harry sat up even straighter, refusing to be intimidated. "Harry Remus Potter," he said, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't be docked points for using his new name.

Judge Runcorn didn't react, and swiftly lowered his down to his paperwork, which he seemed to regard intimately. "Jorkins," he said to the chief crown prosecutor, who was as thin as a reed, and sported a rather unappealing shade of blond hair. "You're up first to question young Mr. Potter, and I suggest that you get a move on."

"Yes, Your Honor," Jorkins said, obviously trying his best to make his voice not come out as a squeak, as he shakily got to his feet, and straightened out his suit. "Mr. Potter, you stated in your statement to police that, on the evening of April the tenth of this year, after your celebration of your adoption at the Weasley's nightclub, that you spent the night at the home of Narcissa Malfoy and her son, Draco?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied with a nod.

"Who else was sleeping in the residence that evening?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, and Miss Ginevra Weasley were also sleeping there, sir," he said flawlessly.

"How were you all feeling upon your arrival to the house?"

"We were all quite hungover, sir," Harry said, allowing his manner to go sheepish. "Mrs. Malfoy was less-than-pleased at our respective inebriated states, and told us all to go to bed immediately, which we did."

"And the following morning?"

"I awoke around eight, and took a shower," Harry said, remembering what Luca had told him to say, and repeated it word for word. "I went downstairs around eight-thirty, where I helped myself to some breakfast. Draco woke up next."

"And what happened when young Mr. Malfoy awoke?"

"I asked him if he wouldn't mind driving me to the flat of my former social worker, Mr. Severus Snape," Harry told him promptly. "When he asked me why, I informed him that I wished to thank him properly for his kind words mentioned in court, which paved the way for me to be adopted by Mr. Sirius Black."

"And what happened next, Mr. Potter?"

"Draco and I left the Malfoy residence and headed across town to Downtown London, where Mr. Snape lives," he said softly. "Hermione, who was also in his care when she was a child, had told me once before where he lived."

"And you recalled this information?"

Harry gave him a small smile. "I don't have a large circle of people that I spend my time with," he said softly. "And besides, there is the matter of the occasional good memory in various people to consider."

"You consider yourself to have a good memory?"

"For certain things, sir, yes, I do."

Jorkins decided at that moment to move on. "And when did you and Draco arrive at the residence of Mr. Severus Snape?"

"Around a quarter after nine," Harry said.

"And what happened?"

"My mobile had died," Harry explained. "I have a different model than Draco did, and so I wasn't able to remedy that fact at the Malfoy residence. Mr. Snape and I have similar phones, however, and so I was able to charge it just enough when the three of us—that is, me, Draco, and Mr. Snape—all spoke at his flat."

"And did you receive any phone calls that morning on your mobile, Mr. Potter, while at the residence of Mr. Snape?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Ron telephoned me, letting me know that Sirius had called him, asking to know where I was, as I'd neglected to tell him the night before where I was going to be sleeping, as I said, my mobile had died."

"What did Mr. Weasley tell you during your conversation?"

"He told me that he had informed Sirius of where I was," he said, and shook his head. "I was naturally concerned, as Sirius had gotten it into his head some time ago that Mr. Snape and I were involved inappropriately."

Jorkins nodded. "Yes, I see."

"Ron had also misunderstood, or Sirius had—I'm sorry, I don't know which—that I had come to Mr. Snape's flat with Draco," Harry explained. "Ron knew that Draco had driven me there, but I think he thought that Draco would return to the Malfoy residence, and I would call Sirius or my dad to take me back to Grimmauld Place later that morning."

"And how long after your arrival did Sirius arrive at the flat?"

"No later than fifteen or twenty minutes," Harry said, swallowing. "He was raving as soon as he came in, and it didn't take him long to brandish a gun."

"What was said during this time?" Jorkins wanted to know.

"Draco reminded Sirius that guns were banned, but Sirius didn't want to listen. I even tried to dissuade him from doing anything rash, but he just wouldn't stop..."

"Go on, Mr. Potter. Take your time," Jorkins told him.

"Well, he moved to shoot Mr. Snape, but I blocked his way, knowing that it wouldn't solve anything, in the end," Harry said quietly. "But, then, when Sirius pulled the trigger, Mr. Snape shoved me away, and Draco got willingly into the line of fire. Once that happened, Sirius remarked that he had missed his shot, and proceeded to shoot Mr. Snape as well."

"Mr. Black informed us all that you claimed that you said to him that he would have to kill you if he intended upon killing Mr. Snape that day," Jorkins put in.

Harry sighed. "He misunderstood."

"Well, what did you mean by your words, then, Mr. Potter?"

"I meant that he would have to kill me so that there would be no witnesses to the crime he'd committed," Harry explained. "However, I'm not sure he took into account that Draco was still semi-conscious, or that both Draco and Mr. Snape would ultimately survive their respective injuries inflicted by him."

Jorkins nodded. "And then what happened?"

"I pretended to sympathize with him," Harry remarked, still halfway wondering how he had managed to do such a thing. "I told him that he needed to run and get out of there, for if he was found at the scene, he could lose me."

"And what did Mr. Black do then?"

"He ran," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "I called 9-9-9 as soon as I was sure he was gone and that it was safe to do so. Mr. Snape was out cold, but I spoke a bit to Draco."

"And why did you infer that Draco Malfoy was your boyfriend to the paramedics?"

"Because I was afraid that Sirius would tell the hospital employees otherwise, and I didn't want anything bad to happen to Mr. Snape," Harry said softly.

Jorkins let out a sigh. "You've frequently referred to Mr. Black as the suspect, the man who shot down both Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy."

Harry gave a stiff nod. "Yes."

"Do you see the man here today in the courtroom who shot both men?"

Harry nodded then, slowly turning to where Sirius sat across the room, with his barrister, Arnold Peasegood, were sitting. "Yes," he replied once more, and lifted his hand, extending his index finger slowly, and pointing directly at Sirius. "That's the man who gunned down both Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Jorkins said, and bowed his head. "I am so sorry that you had to come here today to do this."

Harry swallowed, but nevertheless gave Jorkins's a nod. "You're welcome," he said softly, and felt relieved when he was permitted to get off the stand as, surprisingly, Barrister Peasegood had no questions for him.

~*~

Severus had just poured himself a pot of tea and ventured into his living room, sitting in the wingback armchair beside his fireplace, and was facing the window. It was a cloudy day at the beginning of July, and he had heard snippets of the trial, knowing that Harry had testified and done it well, although it did not assuage the worry he had for the young man. As he reached towards his ottoman and picked up the book he was currently reading—The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien—he heard a soft, yet assured knock on his front door.

Perplexed, Severus set his tea and book aside and got to his feet, moving promptly towards the door and peering out of his newly-installed spyhole, which he had gotten in the wake of the shooting weeks before. He had been out of hospital for a period of nearly five weeks, and, at Albus's behest, was still on sick leave, despite him being cleared of any inappropriate relations with Harry. As he peered through the hole, he was very surprised to see Hermione Granger standing there and, against his better judgement, unlocked the door and stood back, letting her inside without a word.

"Good afternoon, Severus," Hermione said, a weak smile upon her face. Her usually bright and exuberant brown eyes were instead marred with bags, and her usual upright gait was a bit slower as she took the opposite chair beside the fire, having figured out where Severus had been sitting before she came in.

"I was just having some tea, Hermione," Severus said softly, taking note of her changed appearance and finding himself taken aback by it. "Would you like some?"

Hermione kept that smile in place, although it looked a bit sad upon closer inspection. "Yes, that sounds lovely, Severus. Thank you."

Severus gave the young woman a nod, quickly going into the kitchen and retrieving a second mug from the pantry, and pouring her a cup of steaming tea—milky, two sugars. He brought it back into the living room, and Hermione promptly took it from him, before settling back into her claimed chair, watching his every move. "How have things been for you?" he asked, returning to his own seat and staring across at her. "A-Levels go all right?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, thank you. All A* grades," she said, and managed a slightly brighter smile than the sorry ones she'd given him before. "Oxford is more than pleased to have me for next term, and I'm looking forward to it."

"I'm glad for you." Severus lifted his own mug of tea and blew on it, before slowly moving it towards his lips and sipping it. "And everything else?"

"Ron's going to study business at University College, and is very excited about it all, although I'm not sure it's what he truly wants, or if he just wants to make the family proud." Shaking her head, she sipped her own tea. "Draco is looking forward to taking over Malfoy Media, and restoring it to its former glory. The shareholders and the board have been running it, and although it's remained in the black for some time, he wants to revitalize it."

"Most ambitious for one so young," Severus observed. "However, I would expect no less from someone like Draco Malfoy."

"No," Hermione agreed, and, this time, a genuine smile came onto her face. "Draco's really looking forward to it, I think."

Severus hesitated for a moment, the question on the tip of his tongue, before curiosity won out in the end and he sighed, permitting himself to ask. "And Harry? How is Harry?"

Hermione's brow puckered then, and she shook her head. "He's been spending a lot of time with Remus in their new flat. They sold off Grimmauld, you know."

Severus nodded. "Yes, I'd heard."

"He's concerned about his future..."

"Has the Cordon Bleu reneged on their promise to take him?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," Hermione said quickly, although she still appeared concerned. "It is where he's attending that's got me worried."

"Worried? Why would you be...?"

"He's opted not to remain in London," she said quietly.

Severus felt his heart slam in his chest repeatedly at the news. "Not remain in London? I thought it was his intention to remain here..."

"Not anymore, apparently," she said, and sighed. "We hardly see him anymore. The only time he really gets out of the house is to take long walks with Hedwig, and to go to the shops. He's taking care of all the cooking now; he says its practice, but I think it's becoming an obsession of his, because he's always doing it..."

"Were his A-Level grades all right?"

"A's and A* marks, so, justifiably, yes," she confirmed. "It's just that he's so withdrawn, and that's what's worrying me the most..."

"Why worry? Perhaps he is merely processing his future, and needs to do so in solitude. He is moving, after all..."

"He wants to go to Paris," Hermione whispered. "It is a perfectly romantic thought, to say the least, but why would he want to leave?"

"To broaden his horizons perhaps? After all, it is reportedly the best culinary country in the world, so why wouldn't he want to attend university there?"

"No, that's not the point," Hermione said, growing slightly impatient as she finally lowered her cup of tea, completely giving up on it.

"All right, then, Hermione. Explain the point to me, then."

She swallowed then, her fingers knotting themselves together. "He told you, didn't he?" she whispered, looking concerned. "Harry. He told you that you were his inspiration for Sebastian Prince, after he met you when he was ten-years-old?"

Severus sighed, running his hand down his face. "Yes. I seem to recall that rather important tidbit of information..."

"Why do you seem so down about it?"

"Why wouldn't I be down?" Severus muttered, his tone bitter. "I have fabricated an elaborate fantasy in which I bedded a seventeen-year-old boy, and that we proclaimed our love for one another and, clearly, I need my head examined because of it..."

"Fabricated?" Hermione whispered. "What are you talking about?"

"Harry came to me after I awoke in hospital from my coma, telling me that Dr. Hopkirk informed him that I would experience delusional fantasies, and that nothing inappropriate ever happened between the two of us..."

"Rubbish," Hermione snapped, cutting him off.

Severus blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Hermione let out a noise of exasperation before launching herself to her feet and advancing upon his ornately-carved bookshelf on the other side of the room. Her eyes rapidly scanned the titles for a moment before yanking one out, and Severus would recognize it anywhere—The Wicked Count and the Trials of Fire. He watched as Hermione opened the book to the title page and shoved it into his hands, glaring down at him. "What does it say?"

Severus sighed, but nevertheless looked down at the page, and read the words which Harry had inscribed to him personally. "Not everything is as it seems. Reality is an illusion, nothing is real, life is but a dream..." Just as he finished the sentence, however, he looked up at Hermione, his mouth promptly falling open. "What...?"

"He was trying to tell you something when you woke up in hospital," Hermione said, her voice much more gentle than it had been before.

"What...?" Severus whispered again.

"It was a secret code, your secret code," she said. "When you were figuring out that he was Linfred Hardwin, he wrote that to you. Now, he's telling you that because he wanted you to know that he was lying to you."

"Lying to me?" Severus demanded. "But why would he...?"

"To protect you, Severus," Hermione said, shaking her head at him. "He didn't want you to throw your entire career away for him."

"I would have," Severus said quickly.

"Severus, think about it for a moment," Hermione said, her patience growing thin. "You would have been branded a pedophile—which we all know you're not, but the law won't see it that way, given Harry's past, and you know it—and you would have subsequently been thrown into jail, if enough information had been gathered by authorities."

Severus sighed. "Why wouldn't he just tell me the truth?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, Severus?"

Severus nodded. "Yes. Please. Tell me."

"Because, no matter what you've said, the promises you've made, and the like, Harry still believes that, on some level, he is unlovable," she said quietly.

"That's outrageous!" Severus cried out. "He is completely lovable! I love him!"

"I know you do, Severus," Hermione assured him. "But Harry will still need some convincing and, when the time is right to do so, I know you will."

Severus sighed, getting to his feet then. "First things first," he said, crossing the room and making a grab for his peacoat, which he grabbed off the peg too roughly, and the velvet box came flying out of his pocket, and flew across the floor.

Hermione automatically bent and picked it up, and opened it at once. "Severus," she breathed, and shook her head, "is this what I think it is?"

Severus nodded as Hermione crossed the room and returned the box to him, which he slipped into a drawer. "Yes."

"You were going to ask him, weren't you? That day. Before all went to hell."

Severus nodded a second time. "I was, yes."

Hermione shifted from foot to foot. "What are you going to do now?"

"Rectify a situation," Severus said, and opened the door, and Hermione promptly followed him out into the hallway, watching as he locked the door behind him.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, following him quickly down the staircase, wanting at least some information.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Severus told her. They made it down the flights of stairs and outside into the overcast day, and promptly towards Severus's car, which Hermione invited herself into without being asked, which didn't faze Severus. They drove a few minutes until they arrived at the car park for Magical Kinship, and Severus promptly shut off his car and exited it, making his way over towards the entrance, Hermione at his heels.

"Severus, what are you...?"

Severus held up his hand, effectively silencing the young woman as he let himself in, Hermione promptly following, and made his way down the corridor. Letting himself inside the door beside the gaudy stone gargoyle, he gave Penelope a nod and stepped into the office beyond. "Albus," he greeted with a small smile.

"Severus," Albus said, getting to his feet. "Hermione?" he queried as she appeared behind him, and the girl promptly shrugged her shoulders, unknowing as to what was going on here, and just appeared to be along for the ride.

"Albus, I want to thank you for everything you've done for me," Severus informed him. He was fiddling with his keys for a moment, before he detached two of them and placed them onto Albus's desk. "The keys to my office and to the front door."

"Severus?" Albus asked, his blue eyes filled with confusion.

"I've come to tender my resignation, Albus," Severus told him firmly, and Hermione audibly gasped from behind him, while Albus merely raised his eyebrows. "I'll never thank you or Gellert enough for all you've done for me, but it is time for me to move on." He gave Albus a smile then, and nodded his head. "I'm going to pack up my office, and then I'll be out of everyone's hair for good."

"Any particular reason for this, Severus?" Albus asked as Severus turned around and made his way to exit the office.

"Yes," Severus replied. "I'm in love with Harry," he said simply, before giving a bright smile to the man who had become his father, and made his way to his office, chuckling at the notion that Hermione was demanding that Albus see reason, and Albus claiming that he was happy for Severus, and would make no move to stop him.

~*~

The sale of Grimmauld Place had come about after Sirius had been found guilty of all crimes and sentenced to twenty years. In the aftermath, Harry renewed his interest in visiting Peter Pettigrew in prison, and was relieved when Remus consented to this. He would call him either 'Dad' or 'Remus', depending on his mood, and Remus had never forced the issue either way. All in all, both men were content in their little flat in the center of London, and Hedwig had proved to be an emotional support for the both of them.

Harry, armed with written permission from Remus to visit Pettigrew, arrived at the class A prison in the third week of July, unknowing as to how the visit would go. When the paperwork was approved and he was invited into the visitor's room to see the prisoner, he was shocked at what he saw. Pettigrew was smaller than he remembered, and he seemed altogether weaker as a person. The logical conclusion for the latter fact hit Harry like an arrow, when he realized, for the first time, how strong he was, and as he sat before Pettigrew, he found he had never felt so strong in his entire life.

"You can get on with your pathetic existence once you answer me one thing," he growled at the man, who remained silent, obviously waiting for Harry to pose the question he'd been so longing to ask. "Why?"

Pettigrew blinked. "What?"

"Why did you rape me?" Harry asked simply. "Why did you feel you had the right to do all you did to me?"

"Because I wanted to," Pettigrew said simply. "You were a little, powerless boy, and it wasn't as if people were around that cared enough to stop me. In those few moments, I had the power, and I got to do what I always wanted—be in control. Not like you had a very difficult time of it after we lost you to care, eh?"

Harry knew he wouldn't get much more than that, but resolved not to be ungrateful for the visit, for it had allowed him the closure he had been wanting for so many years. He spent the next week and a half sorting through his belongings and deciding what he would ultimately take to Paris, what would go to charity shops, and what was going to be tossed in the bin entirely. As he looked, he discovered a Polaroid that Ginny had snapped upon his first night at the Burrow. It was of him and Severus, sitting and talking, and Harry immediately detected how relaxed his body language was, even in the beginning, when it came to Severus.

Tracing their bodies within the picture, Harry attempted to ignore the tears streaming down his face, but he found he was unable to do so. "It was always you, Severus," he whispered, before putting the photo into the 'keep forever' pile.

Pushing himself upwards from his barely-begun task, Harry marched over to the computer. The dual successes of books eight and nine of The Wicked Count hadn't been that surprising, but Harry was about to do one better. As he booted up his computer and opened a new document, he felt as if his fingers were flying over the keys of their own accord. He just kept writing, and as the hours passed and the stars came out, he knew that he would never be able to stop until the task was done. Remus was pulling an all-nighter at Magical Kinship that night anyway, so it wasn't as if he had anything to do. Their new flat was a ground floor one, and they had a little garden in the back, which Hedwig knew how to use, and she had access to food and water at all times, so it wasn't as if she was lacking for anything for the moment.

Finally, as the sun rose the next morning, Harry typed the final sentence in the document. He felt his eyes filled with tears, reading the final paragraph, knowing that it was truly the end of the story of Hadrian Peverell and Sebastian Prince...

And although the public would forever know Hadrian Peverell as Adriana Peverell, he knew that it was a small sacrifice. Sebastian did not mind that Hadrian had to be Adrianna in public, and it amused him that his "wife" had to wear all those layers beneath his skirts. And as Hadrian and Sebastian watched their children—Raphael Alexandre, Nathanael Marcellus, and Claudette Iolanthe Prince—grow up in a household filled with tenderness and love, they felt as if they had made their own happy ending, one that they wouldn't have changed for anything.

All was well.

Harry quickly typed "The End" at the ending of the document, before hastily adding, at the top, The Wicked Count and the Eternal Love to the top. He then sent the completed manuscript to Oliver, before jumping into the shower. Once that was finished, Harry left Hedwig asleep in the living room and ran from the house, jogging up and down the various blocks, the warm summer air filling in his lungs, and he found he felt freer than he had in a long time. Upon his return to the flat, he got a response from Oliver, who told him that it was perfect for the expedition to announce Harry to the world as Linfred Hardwin, which was to be scheduled at Flourish and Blotts eleven days from that dawn. Harry typed out a response, accepting it, knowing that he would have to invite Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny to the event.

Once Remus returned home and he and Harry had naps, it was over sandwiches and tea later on that afternoon that Harry gave his adopted father the big news. Naturally, Remus was more than pleased for his son, and they planned to go shopping to get new clothes for the event. Harry found he was slightly nervous as the days ticked by, but was pleased that his four closest friends had agreed to be there for him.

Finally, the night in question arrived, and Harry, although saddened by it, didn't expect any kind of response from the card he had sent Severus, inviting him to the event. He arrived there with Remus, and was promptly hidden backstage while Remus was instructed to mingle within the crowd, sipping champagne and eating salmon on crackers. Harry's stomach turned at the scent of the fist, and paced up and down in his allotted space, not knowing how he was supposed to handle the public—the public that had been his all along, but now he was permitted to enjoy it, and all that came with it.

Peeking through the curtain, he saw Remus standing with Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny, who were all dressed impeccably. Even though he was sporting a bottle green suit which matched his eyes, and had been picked out by Hermione and Ginny, he still felt out of place. He knew that Oliver's pep-talk that he would get used to all this soon enough was supposed to have helped him, but Harry was unsure. As he knotted his hands together, the clock struck the hour of eight, and Oliver went out on stage, with a smile in Harry's direction.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Oliver said, his Scottish accent rippling elegantly through the room. "I was to let you all know, first and foremost, that advanced copies of the final Wicked Count book, The Eternal Love, will be going on sale tonight. As a matter of fact, Linfred Hardwin wrote it in just under twelve hours, less than two weeks ago." Oliver permitted the gasps and whispers to filter through the space when he called for silence again. "Now," he said, taking another breath, "Linfred Hardwin is here tonight. However, the man all of you know as Linfred Hardwin is actually Viktor Krum, a model from Bulgaria. The real Linfred Hardwin is here with us tonight. Linfred?" Oliver called.

Understanding his cue, Harry came out onstage, to many gasps, but the gasps soon turned into shouts of approval, and the whole of the place erupted into mighty applause. When Harry was motioned over to the podium, he did so, although he was still nervous. "Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen," he said into the microphone. "I am afraid I could not share my true identity with all of you, as I began writing these stories when I was sixteen-years-old. Tonight is my eighteenth birthday, and it was decided then that it would be appropriate for me to come out and meet all of you officially." He took a breath. "Through some unspeakably awful circumstances, including both of my parents dying—my mother at my birth, and my father when I was ten-years-old—as well as devastating abuse, I was put into the care system. I didn't have a proper family within it until I was seventeen, and my father, my real father, is here tonight," he said, his eyes sweeping the crowd, finding Remus within it, but it was then that he saw Remus smiling knowingly, and, looking to where Hermione was standing, he saw that Severus was just beside her. "It appears as if everyone I love is here tonight," he said, his heart pounding in his ears as Severus's intense gaze softened. "I couldn't have completed this fantastic journey without any of you, and I shall be truly grateful. Thank you very much, and I hope you all enjoy the book," Harry said, stumbling over the last bit as he broke away from the podium, and running towards the staircase. He pushed through the crowd, looking for Severus, and, when he did at last, it was when his arms went around him that he knew he had found home.

"Harry?" Severus whispered, questioning.

Harry stood on his toes then, kissing Severus in front of everyone, tears flowing down his face, and found that he didn't care if this meant he never sold another book again. "I love you," he whispered, finally permitting himself to go back down. "I'm sorry about everything..."

Severus bent down then, cutting Harry off, and kissing him back. "I love you, too," he declared, smiling down at him. Looking around, he saw many people looking expectantly at Harry. "I think your public wants you..."

"I don't care," Harry said simply. "Come on." He pulled Severus towards the back, where Severus was pleased to see a back door. Once they were through it, Severus led Harry to where he was parked, and Harry got into the front seat. "Seven blocks down, and then three over," he said breathlessly.

"And where's that?"

"My flat with Remus," Harry said simply, grinning impishly at him.

Severus's gaze darkened quickly with desire then as they sped off into the night. They soon arrived at a sandstone building, and Harry was quick to let them inside. Hedwig had been taken to the Burrow earlier that evening, and Molly and Arthur had agreed to watch her for the weekend ahead. Severus allowed himself to be pulled into Harry's bedroom, and smirked at Harry's hasty efforts to undress him.

"I can't tell you how long I've waited for this," he breathed, unbuttoning Severus's shirt and moving on to his belt.

"Do you still want to be on top?"

Harry's hands stilled in the darkness. "What?"

"Do you want to be inside me?" Severus clarified.

Harry flushed then and shook his head. "That's not what I meant..."

Severus nodded; he wasn't a natural bottom anyhow. "Then what did you mean by it, Harry?" he asked his lover.

"I..." Harry nipped at his bottom lip. "I wanted to ride you..."

Severus felt the blood hastily rush to his cock at the declaration. "Anything," he whispered, and dragged Harry so that the young man was molded against him, rewarding him with a kiss. They each managed to undress the other quickly, and Severus pulled Harry on top of him on the bed, but, decided better of it, and flipped him around.

"What are you...?"

"Shh," Severus whispered, planting kisses up and down Harry's back. "Just wait." He continued in this manner, meticulously pressing kiss after kiss onto Harry's beautiful skin, smiling to himself each time he made Harry sigh or groan in pleasure. Finally, when he couldn't stand it anymore, he parted the cheeks of Harry's beautiful arse, bending down to taste him there with a swipe of his tongue.

"Severus!" Harry cried out then, bucking promptly against the wet appendage, feeling his toes curling immediately thereafter. "What are you...? Oh, god," he groaned as Severus did it again, slower this time.

"Do you like that, my love?" Severus whispered against the globes of his arse.

"Yes... Please, don't stop," he begged.

"Never," Severus assured him. He continued in his manner for several moments, before he got the lube from Harry's nightstand beside the bed, where Harry had directed him, and slowly began to prepare Harry.

"More," Harry begged, and Severus added a second finger.

"Do you like me stretching your beautiful arse, Harry?"

"Yes... God, yes," Harry moaned. "More..."

Once Severus added a third finger, and finished stretching his lover, he painstakingly lubed up his own cock before gently taking ahold of Harry by the hips, and guided them so that he was on his back and Harry was looming over him. "Are you ready, my love?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Please, yes..."

Severus smiled, running his hands down Harry's sides. "Go slowly now, my love," he said, and motioned for Harry to place his hands on his arms. "That's it," he said, guiding his cock towards Harry's stretched and lubed up entrance. "Easy now. Not too fast."

Harry slid easily down onto Severus's cock, the head immediately making contact with his prostate, which caused him immediately to see stars. Determined to make this last, he negotiated with the space provided for a moment, before he and Severus wrapped their hands around each other's, and gently moved together in the centuries-old dance. "Severus... Fuck. Oh, my god, Severus!" he shouted, working his hips faster, the more he got used to it.

"Gently, Harry," Severus told him, although he had never felt more wonderful than he had in his entire life, inside Harry like this.

"No... More, more, more!" Harry said, biting on his lower lip as he pistoned his hips faster than ever, and Severus couldn't stop the tightening in his balls at the movement.

"Harry," Severus whispered. "My Harry..."

"Yours," Harry breathed, going faster than ever. "Fuck, I love you so much..."

"Harry..."

"Yes?" Harry asked, letting out a moan of appreciation as Severus's hand wrapped around his cock and began to stroke at him rhythmically.

"Are you mine?"

"Yes, fuck, yes!" Harry cried, his orgasm approaching. "Are you mine, too?"

"Always," Severus answered. "Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry whispered, feeling his sensations heightening then, as he knew that orgasm was officially inevitable. "What, love?"

"Marry me," Severus breathed.

"Oh, fuck, Severus, yes!" Harry yelled out then, exploding over the entirety of their stomachs, and Severus immediately came thereafter, due to the tightening on Harry's inner walls.

Slowly, Severus eased out of Harry, and gently lay him down on his back. He walked across the hallway towards the bathroom, fetching a washcloth, which he used hastily on himself before returning to Harry's bedroom, affording him the same treatment. He carded his fingers through Harry's hair, and smiled fondly down at him.

"I love you."

Harry put out his hand, wanting Severus to come back to bed. "I love you, too."

Severus sighed, and sat down beside Harry. "What's this about Paris?"

Harry propped himself up then and sighed back. "Well, I just wanted to make a new life, but now that we're together..."

"Harry, would you want me to go with you?"

Harry felt the gasp leave his lungs before he could call it back. "What?"

"If that is what you wish, I'll go with you, and stay with you..."

"But what about Magical Kinship?"

Severus smiled. "I quit."

"But, you said you wanted to be a social worker..."

"Now what I want," Severus replied, reaching into his suit coat and pulling out the velvet box, which he held towards Harry, "is to be yours forever." Without hesitation, he flipped the box open, and watched Harry's awestruck reaction to seeing the ring for the first time. "Harry Remus Potter," he said, and smiled at Harry, "will you marry me?"

"Yes," Harry breathed, his eyes overflowing with tears, as he held out a trembling hand, and allowed Severus to put the ring on him. He then threw his arms around Severus. "God, I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you, too, Harry," Severus assured him. "I shall always love you."

~*~

Epilogue: Twelve Years Later

As soon as it had become legal in The Netherlands, Harry and Severus had married three years later, knowing that their rights as husbands would only apply there, but it didn't matter, after settling in the countryside of Brittany. To them, they were married everywhere, and it was the same to all their friends. It was through their marriage in The Netherlands which led them to adopting children, thirteen-year-old Gemma, nine-year-old Marcus, six-year-old Ophelia, and four-year-old Patrick. They couldn't be happier in their small château in Brittany, what with Harry's restaurant, Le Splendissant Iris, a French bistro and haute couture bakery, which he had opened in the wake of receiving his Culinary Arts degree from Cordon Bleu, constantly making the front pages or cooking sections of Le Figaro, La Croix, and Libération. The most wonderful thing about Paris, for Severus, had been the discovery of his husband's muse, wherein he would be painting constantly, either out and about or within the studio of their home, and would ultimately sell them to Gellert's Gallery, back in England.

Harry's eyes slowly opened on that November morning, the wintery sunlight threatening to creep in through the thick curtains of the master bedroom of Potter Park, what they affectionately called their home, although each resident—save for Severus—boasted the surname of Potter-Snape. Turning over, Harry grinned as he took in his husband, his arse still well fucked from the evening before, and considered to himself that, despite the notion that Severus was now in his early-fifties, he looked far younger than he had when he first met him. It was likely because Severus had found peace, through his marriage to Harry, the subsequent adopting of their four children, and the fact that he was experiencing artistic fulfillment.

"Thinking about our lives again, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, his lips the only thing moving, as he lay beside his husband.

"Morning," Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "And it's Potter-Snape."

"Quite," Severus said, his onyx eyes opening then, as he slowly smiled at Harry. "And how are you this morning, love?"

"Thankful that this place has twelve bedrooms," he said, grinning.

"Oh, yes. One would think we'd have scarred our children for life otherwise."

"I can't help it if you're so damn good in bed," Harry replied cheekily.

"Oh, I am, am I?" Severus asked, promptly pinning Harry to the bed and looking down at him. "I love you," he whispered.

Harry flushed and grinned back at him. "I love you, too," he whispered, and promptly wrapped his arms around his husband's neck, kissing him. "Encore," Harry moaned, arching his back then as Severus's lips slipped promptly downwards, sucking at his collar bone, which had proved to be one of Harry's most sensitive areas.

"Dad! Papa! I don't want that kind of birthday present" came an indignant screech from the doorway, and upon looking, they saw a most put-out expression of their oldest, Gemma. Gemma was standing there, tapping her foot, her golden-brown hair already put into a high ponytail, with her pristine outfit already in place. It was her thirteenth birthday that say, so she thought of herself as quite grown up, although her dark blue eyes quickly flashed in anger. "We have a schedule to keep, and you're already five minutes behind," she told them.

Harry hid his smile as Severus huffed, moving himself off of his husband. "Happy Birthday, love. How are you this morning?"

"Dad," Gemma said warningly.

"Gemma, Happy Birthday," Severus said.

"Papa," Gemma said, and covered her face with her hands. "I really don't want to start my teenage life scarred..."

"Look away, then, Gem," Harry said to his daughter gently, and moved out of bed once she'd stopped looking at them, pulling on a pair of boxers, and watched from the corner of his eye as Severus did the same. They promptly put their robes on, and turned to Gemma. "All right, then," he said. "Better?"

"Hmmm," Gemma replied, sounding like a mini-Severus when she said then. Hesitating, she turned around, beckoning to someone or something in the hallway, and it wasn't long before Marcus, Ophelia, and Patrick came trooping into the room.

Marcus, at nine, was already quite mature for his age, reminding Harry and Severus immediately of Hermione. Marcus had blond hair and steel-gray eyes, and resembled Draco, however. He pursed his lips as he stepped into the bedroom, hovering in the doorway, but gave quick smiles to his fathers, letting them know that there was nothing wrong.

Ophelia, however, at six, was an impulsive little thing, much like Harry had been when he was younger, before all the bad things had happened to him. Ophelia's black hair was already done up in two plaits, likely formed by Gemma, and she promptly invited herself onto Severus's lap, for it was always their younger daughter who was determined to see Severus smile, which she always succeeded in, especially after she gazed at him with her violet eyes.

Patrick, his striking red hair and green eyes letting all who knew him that he had a significant amount of Irish within him, plundered forward, throwing himself at Harry with an impish expression that made his father laugh. "Daddy!" he crowed, throwing his arms around Harry's neck without hesitation.

"All right, now that we're all finally here," Severus said, pulling Ophelia closer and regarding Gemma, "what is our schedule today, love?"

"Breakfast, then showers and dressing," Gemma said, ticking the tasks off on her fingers. "Then Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione should be here with Rose and Hugo."

"Rose tell you if Hermione's got a break between cases?" Harry asked.

Gemma rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I do that Aunt Hermione never takes a break, and we had to promise an arm and a leg for her to even consider vacation time," she said, her tone slightly testy.

"Nice Gemma," Severus reminded her.

Gemma huffed. "Fine," she said, allowing herself to relax.

"Did our other guests inform you of their arrival?" Severus asked his daughter.

"Ron said that Uncle Draco and Aunt Ginny are coming with Nathan, Bella, and Fiona," Marcus reported, much closer to that faction of the family. "Ron's got a break in his latest case for Scotland Yard."

"So glad he didn't go into business," Harry muttered.

"How are things at Malfoy Media?" Severus wanted to know.

"Well," Marcus confirmed. "The last of the negotiations to turn The Wicked Count into a full-fledged T.V. series for Netflix is a-go."

"You shouldn't know about that," Harry said, smirking.

"The negotiations or the book series?" Ophelia asked, speaking for the first time.

"Brat," Gemma muttered. "He means the books. We can hardly avoid the negotiations, since Uncle Draco is in charge of them all..."

"How's Ginny?" Harry asked, not wanting to cause an argument.

"Fine!" Patrick said, obviously pleased to talk about his favorite aunt. "She's still surfing, and loving being a part of the World Surf League."

Harry smiled, before turning back to Gemma. "And after the guests arrive?"

"We have to get down to the restaurant and set up my party," she replied. "Anyone who's anyone from Saint Joseph is going to be there."

"Oh? And do we have our eye on anyone?" Severus asked knowingly.

"No!" Gemma sputtered immediately.

Harry smirked. "Gem."

"No, I do not!" she cried out.

"Gemma's in love, Gemma's in love!" Patrick said, clapping his hands.

"I am not! Shut up!" she said, crossing her arms.

"Gemma Contessa Potter-Snape," Severus said to his eldest, who immediately flushed at being called by her full name. "Be nice."

Gemma rolled her eyes. "Fine," she grumbled.

"And Patrick," Harry said, "you know better than to tease your sister."

"Sorry, Dad," Patrick said, nuzzling closer to Harry.

"Well," Marcus said, ever the peace-maker, "why don't we all go downstairs and fight about what to have for breakfast?"

"Breakfast!" Patrick yelled, pushing himself off Harry's lap and running after his older brother with a look of pure glee on his face.

"No fighting!" Ophelia cried out, getting off Severus's lap and running after them.

Harry noticed Gemma hesitating, and he looked at his daughter. "Something on your mind, Gem?" he asked her.

She sighed, her shoulders deflating. "It's not anyone at school."

"Ah, so there is someone to impress, then?" Severus asked.

Gemma nodded. "Yeah."

"Who is it, love?" Harry asked.

Gemma gritted her teeth, almost as if she'd rather do anything than admit to it, but her desire to share won out in the end. "Rose."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"It's Rose," she whispered.

"As in Rose Granger-Weasley, your best friend?"

Gemma twisted at the end of her ponytail. "Look, I know she isn't my cousin by blood or anything, so it's not like we'd be doing anything wrong or illegal here..."

"It's not that, love," Harry assured his daughter. "Do you... Do you think you may like girls, or boys, or both?"

"Girls," Gemma said, rolling on her heels. "I've given it some thought, and whenever I see myself with anyone, like, romantically, it's with...Rose..."

"Well, I hope the two of you will be very happy together," Severus said.

Gemma rolled her eyes. "You kidding? She'd never even look at someone like me. I love you guys, I really do, but if my biological parents didn't want me, who's to say that someone as amazing and beautiful as Rose ever could...?"

"We've seen the way Rose looks at you, love," Harry assured his daughter, remembering when Hermione had told them, within weeks of her starting classes at Oxford, that she was pregnant, and she and Ron planned to marry. Rose had been born just before Christmas, a full two months premature, and it had been touch and go for a while, but Rose was strong, and she had proved to be as smart as Hermione. "She'll come around."

Gemma rolled her shoulders. "Have you given it any further thought?"

"To you attending the City of London School for Girls next term, and boarding there until you graduate at eighteen?" Severus asked.

"Not boarding, Dad. Living with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione," Gemma said gently, her temper much better now.

Harry smiled, taking Severus's hand. "We have, love. And we've decided that you can go. I know you'll make all the right decisions, and all we want is for you to be happy."

Gemma let out a sigh of relief then before darting across the room and hugging both Harry and Severus respectively. "I really do love you guys," she said gently.

"We know," Severus said with a laugh.

"We love you, too," Harry told her.

Gemma pulled back then, and she took the opportunity to smile at them. "I'll head downstairs to make sure that the rest of them don't kill each other," she said, a little laugh escaping her lips before she could call it back, and she left the master bedroom.

"Remus should be here in a few hours, too," Harry remarked in the silence that followed. "He always has a good time seeing his grandchildren..."

"How's he holding up since ending things with Sirius?"

"You make it sound as if it's new news," Harry said with a smirk. "He ended things as soon as he decided to take custody of, and adopt me."

Severus nodded. "True, true."

"Changing subject," Harry said; he had used this expression more than once over the years, especially when certain topics had proved too much for him. He let out a small sigh, and placed his head onto Severus's shoulder. "I can't tell you how happy I am."

"Oh?" Severus asked, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead.

"Everything's just wonderful now," Harry said, burrowing closer. "Even if I was given the opportunity to wish for anything in my life, I think the only thing I would ask for is having all marriages be legal anywhere. That's it..."

"A beautiful thought, love," Severus told him. "Perhaps someday..."

"I love you," Harry said softly.

"And I love you," Severus replied.

"And you?" Harry asked, looking up into Severus's eyes. "Are you happy?"

Severus smiled slowly then, putting his index finger beneath Harry's chin, tilting it upwards, before he pressed his lips to Harry's. "Always," he replied.

All was well.

The End