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Chapter Text

Perhaps two pinches of ground Talonspike, rather than—

"Severus, would you care for some more quiche?" Molly Weasley asked, interrupting his train of thought.

He looked at her and caught a hint of sadness in her eyes. Severus glanced down at his hearty, half-eaten slice, freckled with bacon, and glimpsed his hands—now also freckled—holding his knife and fork.

"No, thank you. I'm quite all right."

"Are you sure? Bacon-and-leek is one of Ron's favourites."

"Molly," Arthur gently reminded her from the head of the table.

"Oh," she said, catching herself. "I'm sorry, Severus." She blinked rapidly, then offered a small, weak smile. "Old habits."

Severus gave a slight nod before setting down his cutlery to take a sip of tea, moistening his dry mouth. Sharing a table with the entire Weasley clan, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger included, sometimes felt more uncomfortable than when he had done the same with his fellow Death Eaters.

He suppressed a sigh. Since the Battle of Hogwarts, a month ago, they had continually cast furtive glances his way—or, more precisely, towards Ronald Bilius Weasley's body, which he now inhabited. Seeing such affectionate gazes directed towards him made the pressure inside Severus' chest nearly unbearable at times. Over recent years, he had become accustomed to being met with respect or fear and, in his distant past, with disdain and ire. Yet now, constantly being treated with unwavering love and care, being a Weasley, he found the concept almost too perplexing to comprehend.

Recalling his earlier revelation about the potion he had been contemplating, he quickly confirmed his thought: Yes, two pinches of ground Talonspike Cactus quills should do the trick.

Satisfied, Severus brought a forkful of pastry and savoury custard to his mouth and examined those around him.

Charles, his scarred and brawny arms on full display, ate his meal with swift and purposeful movements. While chewing, his gaze would sweep the room as if he were still guarding a nest of unpredictable dragonets at his dragon sanctuary.

Sitting side by side, Percy and George presented a stark contrast in their choice of attire. Percy had donned smart robes, while George sported casual black jeans and a shirt with an embroidered logo of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. However, both were hunched over their plates as if a Dementor loomed over them. Their faces were greyish, likely due to their struggles to come to terms with witnessing Fred's death.

Directly opposite Severus sat Hermione. Her mahogany gaze pierced him the fiercest. Nevertheless, he bore it because their intellectual discourse offered a welcome distraction from his other worries.

"Severus," Fleur called out for his attention.

"Yes?" Severus asked, needing to bend forward to see her past George and Percy.

"Bill and I, we 'ave finished ze new warding framework for our 'ome. Could you perhaps take a look?"

"Certainly," he replied, disregarding William's expression of amused disbelief at observing the visage of his brother—who had been far from studious—agreeing to such a task. "I shall allocate time for it on Wednesday."

"Excellent. Merci!"

Resuming his meal, he glanced across the table to his left, where Miss Weasley sat. She had eyes only for Harry, who was seated beside Severus. Distractingly, he could feel Harry fidgeting in his seat under her intense, lovesick gaze, the teasing movement and heat of Harry's body affecting Severus' own.

As a nearby cuckoo clock began to play, Harry abruptly stood up. "Er, I reckon I'm done." He glanced to his left and said, "Thanks, Mrs Weasley. The food was delicious. I'm going to head up for a bit of a lie-down."

"Of course, dear," she replied warmly, a touch of concern in her voice. "It's been a taxing few weeks. Make sure you get some rest. And if you need anything at all, you know where to find me."

Harry gave him a pointed look before starting towards the stairs.

Severus deftly placed the final morsel of his quiche into his mouth, quickly chewed and swallowed, then rose to his feet. "Indeed. The meal was commendable. I believe I shall retire upstairs for a while as well."

She nodded at Severus, her eyes softening. "Well, you're welcome to come back down whenever you wish, Severus. There's always tea on the hob."

After giving her a small, awkward smile, he made his way after Harry.

As Severus ascended the stairs, he mused over the staircase's debatable aesthetic appeal. It was steep and narrow—while some might say it was cosy—and the walls, covered in framed moving photographs—many displaying his current façade—were garish, although others might describe them as homey. Either way, one thing was for certain—the stairs were a death trap waiting to happen.

Severus cautiously avoided the trick step that Fred and George had hexed when they were just six. Arthur had fondly reminisced while warning him about the hazard; they had innocently done it to protect the family after he had read them Muggle fairy tales by the Brothers Grimm. Severus questioned the supposed innocence of their actions, considering the grave consequences a single misstep could entail.

Alone with his thoughts, a pang throbbed beneath his ribcage as he remembered the twins.

As an only child, sharing quarters with his Slytherin housemates had offered him the closest semblance to having siblings, albeit with scant, if any, warmth amongst them. Severus could not imagine what it was like for George to lose such a never-wavering confidant. For Severus, Lily had been… She'd been his best friend, but they hadn't been able to overcome their differences. They hadn't been able to accept each other as they were.

But living with the Weasleys, being smothered by their care, despite them knowing about his past deeds, he was beginning to understand what it was like to have a genuinely loving family.

Upon reaching the second-floor landing, he swallowed when he spotted the door to Ronald's bedroom, now the room he and Harry occupied.

With apprehension, Severus raised a hand towards his head, expecting to find shoulder-length locks; instead, he found himself reaching further to run his fingers through his hair. After lowering his arm, he noticed a red strand caught between two fingers, the colour of the hair evidence of his sad circumstances.

He quickly Vanished the distressing reminder.

Severus inhaled deeply, exhaling in a long sigh, delaying the inevitable just a bit longer. Since finding himself in the body of an eighteen-year-old, it seemed to have a mind of its own—and the room before him felt like a nexus of teenage hormonal urges.

Steeling himself, he opened the door.

Late morning sunlight streamed through the lone window, highlighting the space. Vibrant, orange-themed posters featuring the Chudley Cannons adorned the walls, while practical yet well-worn furniture—two beds, a wardrobe, and a small desk—crowded the tight quarters. The bedroom remained largely unchanged, except that it was no longer cluttered. Quidditch magazines, books, keepsakes, and even some of Severus' personal belongings were now organised with care. Besides underpants, he had not bothered to bring any clothing; the thought of Ronald Weasley's body draped in his sombre robes was too unsettling to entertain.

Severus ran his palms self-consciously down his sides, feeling soft wool and cotton. He hadn't worn T-shirts, jumpers, and jeans in years and was still growing accustomed to wearing them again.

Inside, Harry was lying on the bed next to the window. Severus saw he had once again forgone a shirt—which was understandable, seeing as the boiler room was below them. But considering Harry was a wizard, and a cooling charm would suffice...

On hearing Severus' arrival, Harry sat up and grinned at him. "What took you so long? Did Arnold attack your ankles again?"

Arnold was Miss Weasley's Pygmy Puff, a purple monstrosity that seemed to be on a mission to bring about Severus' demise.

Severus opened his mouth to respond, but Harry's smile had instantly disarmed him, as did his fit torso and rosy nipples.

He cleared his throat. "Luckily, no," he said, going to sit on his own bed and feeling Harry's eyes on him with every step.

"Do you truly wish to nap?" asked Severus.

Harry chuckled, then shook his head. "No. I merely needed to get away for a moment." He reclined on his side and propped his head up with his hand, obliviously alluring. "So, do you want to return to Hogwarts today or tomorrow?"

"Today," Severus answered immediately. "As soon as possible."

"All right," Harry agreed with a crooked grin. "But before we leave, I've got to use the loo."

Harry climbed off the bed and started for the door.

The thought of Harry wasting another evening of his precious time with him made him grimace.

"You need not accompany me if you do not wish to," Severus offered. "You are under no obligation."

Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, Harry said incredulously, "With uncaptured Death Eaters still at large?"

"I am perfectly capable of protecting myself, and I shall be Apparating directly to Hogwarts without detours."

Harry's frown deepened. "Severus, I don't mind spending time with you. I…I actually enjoy it quite a lot."

But is it me you're actually wanting to spend time with? Severus wondered.

"I'll be right back," Harry said with emphasis, ending the discussion.

Sighing, Severus walked to the desk and sat in the humble, slightly wobbly chair. He quickly thumbed through his neatly stacked notes until he found the appropriate parchment. After pausing to collect his thoughts, he began jotting his latest insights in the margins.

However, his focus soon shifted. He scowled, sensing that more than enough time had passed for Harry to use the facilities. To confirm his suspicion, he glanced at his Transfigured wristwatch, which had formerly been his prized pocket watch.

More than ten minutes had elapsed.

The Burrow seemed held together with wishes and whimsy, so Severus wouldn't be surprised if Harry had fallen through the floor and simply become stuck.

Best to check.

Severus scooted his chair back and rose, Ronald's long legs swiftly carrying him across the room in just a few strides.

But he instantly froze when he partly opened the door and saw the scene before him.

Miss Weasley and Harry stood close, her face red, tears trailing down her cheeks. Harry, struggling with his own feelings, could barely meet her eyes.

"Is it…is it Hermione? Now that…" her voice broke as she angrily wiped a cheek.

"No," Harry answered, his tone filled with sadness.

"Then why?" she softly sobbed.

Still abysmal at controlling his emotions, guilt flashed across his face.

"So there is someone else," she concluded, her tone sharp.

A tense silence hung between them before Harry nodded. "Yes," he admitted. "I'm sorry, Gin."

"Who is it then, Harry?" Ginny's voice softened, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that demanded the truth. "Who is it that's captured your heart?"

Severus' eyes widened at Harry's answer, his heart pounding like a frantic drumbeat inside his chest. Harry's words echoed in his mind as he quietly closed the door. Drifting in a daze, he made his way to his bed and sat down, his thoughts racing. Severus exhaled hard, the weight of his discovery enveloping him like a beguiling shadow.

What am I to do now? he wondered.

Chapter Text

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Hermione Granger cried out in relief, her face puffy from shedding tears. Like a needy Bowtruckle, she wrapped her arms around Severus' middle, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. "I thought we'd lost you!" she continued to rattle on.

With the pungent, almost overpowering taste of dittany on his tongue, Severus breathed in so he could ask what in Slytherin's name she was doing, but instead began to cough, swirls of mist forming in the chill air.

"Sorry," Miss Granger apologised, quickly releasing him. "Are you still injured? Is anything broken? When I discovered your heart not beating and all my previous attempts to save you failed, I gave you an Elixir of Last Hope in desperation." The potion worked similarly to a defibrillator but was rarely used because of the risk of Inferi-osis, a slow-wasting disease.

"I also gave you an extra-strength healing potion and a bit of Liquid Luck I've been saving," Miss Granger continued to explain, grinning as if she had just revealed a small secret he was already partially aware of.

So…Miss Granger was the one who pilfered my unaccounted-for potions last year, Severus realised in passing. But not Felix Felicis. I don't know where she acquired that cheat of a potion. But most likely from Slughorn, the mediocre sycophant.

He dazedly reached for his neck, where he remembered the searing pain from Nagini's bite but, confusingly, found it intact. Severus moved his hand to his chest and winced; he felt like he had been directly hit by a powerful Impactus Curse.

"Do you need another Vitalis Draught?" she asked worriedly while Potter, kneeling on Severus' other side with his wand softly lit, divided his attention between him and keeping watch.

After slowly inhaling and exhaling a few breaths, Severus determined he was only severely bruised. He looked at her anxious, hopeful face and shook his head no.

Miss Granger and Potter sagged with relief.

"Ron, mate," Potter said with a slight chuckle, offering a hand, "I nearly went mad thinking you were gone."

Ron? Severus thought in further confusion. As in Ronald Weasley? Did Potter misspeak?

While he concentrated on surveying his surroundings, he accepted their help and grunted to his feet. Nearby, he saw Travers's unconscious or, hopefully, dead body. His hood had fallen away, revealing bushy grey hair, yet his mask remained firmly in place, its unique engravings allowing Severus to identify him.

Beyond Travers stood the Shrieking Shack, its rotting, forsaken silhouette in the dim moonlight making him shiver. Unsurprisingly, a part of the building appeared to have collapsed.

Miss Granger handed him a wand, and he instinctually accepted it. However, on closer inspection, he realised it was not his wand—he inhaled a shocked breath—nor was the hand with bitten fingernails gripping it.

Was I given Polyjuice Potion? Unlikely, given the way Potter and Miss Granger are acting.

"You all right, mate?" asked Potter, placing a hand on Severus' shoulder.

I can't tell them the truth. If they discover their close friend is not currently occupying his body, they might become hysterical. How would Weasley go about answering…

"Yeah, I'm fine, mate," he uttered hoarsely, his voice now distinctly less low. "Just banged up a bit, you know? Nothing I can't handle. Let's just focus on what we need to do next, all right? Got to keep our heads on straight."

Potter gave him a commiserating smile and nodded. Sighing, he looked at Travers.

"What happened?" Severus asked. "My memory's sort of funny."

"We startled each other," Potter explained, "all of us shooting spells before realising. I reckon"—he chuckled—"he wasn't expecting anyone to suddenly burst out of the Shrieking Shack."

Severus stepped towards Travers. After locating Travers' wand, he picked it up, snapping it in half and tossing the pieces away.

"Come on, you two," Miss Granger implored. "We need to hurry. We only have about forty-five more minutes until the ceasefire ends. Fortunately, since the anti-Apparation enchantments are down, we won't have to trek all the way back. Meet me at the west entrance of the Viaduct Courtyard. The location should provide us with enough cover."

A ceasefire? he contemplated as she disappeared with a crack. Severus knew if the Dark Lord had proclaimed a brief cessation of hostilities, it was as a calculated move to exploit their fears and vulnerabilities, nothing more.

Severus glanced at Potter with worry before they hurried to join her.

Adjusting his attention to their new surroundings, what he observed tore at the beating muscle inside his chest. Bodies were strewn across the grounds like forgotten, broken porcelain dolls. The acrid and scorched stench of war hung in the air and burnt his throat. He saw no one else roaming about besides him, Miss Granger, and Potter, the eerie calmness around them increasingly seeming to smother them with every creeping step. Severus glanced up at the battered exterior of Hogwarts, where torches glimpsed through blasted-out windows resembled glistening tears. To his surprise, he felt his own eyes sting with emotion.

Inside, the Entrance Hall looked gutted, clumps of rubble littering the ground like discarded piles of offal. They cautiously passed through the Reception Hall into the Great Hall filled with the weary and lost.

The dead were respectfully placed in the middle of the Hall, acting as a palpable reminder to fuel their resolve. There, Severus saw the Weasley family surrounding one body.

Could it be Ronald Weasley's?

Noticing their approach, Miss Weasley and Percy Weasley stepped towards them, revealing Fred Weasley's lifeless form.

As Percy threw his arms around Severus in a grief-stricken embrace, he spotted the dead bodies of Nymphadora Tonks and Lupin. He gasped, realising the last of the Marauders was finally gone, and a mixture of bitter relief and sorrow filled him.

At the same time, Potter stopped short. With every muffled sob or cry of pain he heard, his expression of guilt, which Severus could easily relate to, grew more profound.

Potter slowly backed away, then turned and fled.

Torn between hope and dread, Severus suspected Potter had left to view the memories he had provided—memories that would sadly unveil his inevitable fate.

Everyone around him seemed to be crying, some loudly, others stoically and silently. Severus tried to refrain, as he typically would, but when he attempted to increase the strength of his Occlumency barriers, he discovered they were nowhere to be found, which in hindsight made sense. Occlumency was a skill that needed to be exercised and developed, creating a conditioned mental reflex, of which Ronald Weasley's mind had none.

To his dismay, Severus felt a tear escape down his cheek, then more. He closed his eyes, fighting to stop them.

But when the arms of multiple Weasleys surrounded him and he heard Mrs Weasley softly say near his ear, "It'll be all right. He'll always be with us, in our hearts and memories. We'll get through this together, as a family," Severus surrendered to the torrent of his emotions.

Perhaps it was just as well he did weep; otherwise, he risked drawing unwanted attention to himself.

Severus eventually regained his composure and resolved not to remain idle.

He cleared his throat and said, "I'm gonna see if I can help out," the use of improper grammar chafing him.

Leaving with a few comforting pats on his shoulders and Mrs Weasley giving him an approving, watery smile, Severus scanned the Hall.

Currently, Madam Pomfrey bustled about on the raised platform at the top of the Hall, where the High Table usually stood. He strode towards her underneath the Enchanted Ceiling glowing with the dawn's light.

"Madam Pomfrey," he said to gain her attention, "I wish to help in any way I can."

She stared at him a moment before giving a slow nod. "Here you are, then, Mr Weasley," she replied in her no-nonsense manner, placing potions from her apron into Severus' hands before rushing off to attend her next patient.

Being addressed as "Mr Weasley" left him feeling odd. He had always yearned for a pure-blood name, yet now, having been referred to as one, he was overcome with a sense of emptiness.

After a shake of his head, Severus focused on the potions given to him. He read their labels and discovered he held a jar of Burn-Healing Paste and a bottle of Murtlap Essence. He examined their properties, as he routinely would, checking their colour and consistency, and even opened each to take a sniff to confirm their quality.

Then, without any further delay, he approached Parvati Patil, who had a large gash on her face.

Time sped by as Severus treated one student after another. Presently, he was applying paste to Mr Finnigan's right arm.

"If you can, be sure to reapply in three hours," Severus instructed. "Also, avoid taking Fungus Fighter Potion or Numbing Solution for the next twenty-four hours because of the possible negative interactions."

"Blimey, Ron," Mr Finnigan remarked, looking impressed, "never thought you'd be so clued up on this potion stuff."

Severus refrained from rolling his eyes at his vocation being called "stuff."

Suddenly, the Dark Lord's disembodied voice boomed around them, chilling him to his core.

"'Harry Potter is dead…'"

Shutting his eyes, Severus gasped in a pained breath while others cried out in fear. With every subsequent word, the Dark Lord's lies seeped into him as if the Drink of Despair was being poured directly into Severus' soul. When he had killed Dumbledore, he knew the necessity of it. The same was true for Harry's fate. However, the agony of Harry's death suffocated him, stabbed at him, and wracked him from within. Severus had betrayed Lily, yes, but it was a betrayal borne of ignorance, not malice. Had he known the truth, he would have willingly faced the Killing Curse to protect her. The same held true for Harry.

Oh, how he wished he could have saved him, but now even his wish was utterly meaningless.

"'Come out…'" the Dark Lord demanded gloatingly.

Gradually, those who were able moved towards Hogwarts' front doors, led by Professor McGonagall. A few stayed with Madam Pomfrey, focused on creating protective enchantments around the injured and dead.

Outside, a line of salivating Death Eaters stood stark in the morning sunlight, Professor McGonagall's anguished keening breaking the silence. Others quickly added their voices, calling out Harry's name in denial.

"'Harry! HARRY!'"

Severus stared at Harry's small, limp body in Hagrid's arms. His throat constricted, and hatred, unlike anything he had ever experienced, suffused his cells like dragon fire.

Without a word, he rushed forward, aiming for the Dark Lord's throat, hoping to end both him and Nagini, now free from her enchanted cage and hanging from his neck.

"Sectumsempra!" he whispered ferociously.

However, unlike his own wand, the one in his hand was not suited to Dark offensive magic, and his reflexes lagged, Weasley's body only possessing a fraction of Severus' proficiency.

His spell went wide, but the Dark Lord's returning curse did not.

Severus expected to endure excruciating pain, to feel as if every inch of his body were being rent apart and submerged in acid. Instead, pressure enveloped his body as if he were stuck between two opposing forces.

"Ron! No! Stop hurting him…" he distantly perceived as he struggled to inhale.

Mercifully, likely due to stressing his previous injuries, he collapsed to the ground unconscious a few seconds later.

Severus gasped awake. He gathered not much time had passed, given most people still remained where he last remembered, except for Harry's body, now on the ground. However, turning to his right, his eyes widened at the sight of Mr Longbottom donning a flaming Sorting Hat.

Wanting to aid him, Severus grabbed Mr Longbottom's wand on the ground near him, then crawled to his feet. He frowned, faintly hearing the clomping of hooves and hisses of flying arrows.

Can it be? Have the centaurs finally decided to join the war?

Movement where Harry lay seized his attention. He turned, then froze, his jaw slack when he caught the briefest glimpse of Harry, alive, disappearing underneath his Invisibility Cloak.

Before Severus could even register his profound relief, Mr Longbottom amazed him further by somehow wandlessly freeing himself from his Body-Bind Curse. Then he laughed in flabbergasted delight when, in one smooth motion, Mr Longbottom produced the Sword of Gryffindor and bisected Nagini like a Flobberworm.

The Dark Lord's furious scream sobered him quickly, and Severus pointed his wand toward Mr Longbottom.

"Protego!" he exclaimed aloud rather than non-verbally, erring on the side of caution.

Severus noticed a flicker as his protection charm unexpectedly merged with another's.

Harry's? he wondered, searching for a sign of him.

As Severus joined the fray, he kept an eye out for Harry's whereabouts. Weasley's body didn't have the muscle memory of his own, causing his spells to be somewhat erratic, but he compensated with his extensive knowledge of spells. Spells he created, spells from ancient tomes, the restricted section, and the Dark Lord himself: all were fair game as he took down his former brethren.

The swelling mass of people funnelled into the castle as if Hogwarts itself were swallowing groups of battling Death Eaters and Order members like necessary medicinal potions.

While amongst weapon-wielding house-elves in the Entrance Hall, Severus bumped into Mr Longbottom and used the opportunity to return his wand. From there, they worked in tandem and did so surprisingly well.

Fighting their way into the Great Hall, he occasionally noticed a curse aimed at an ally suddenly collide with a Shield Charm, reassuring him that Harry was alive and nearby.

"Ron, behind you!" warned Mr Longbottom, prompting Severus to scramble aside and spin to see the threat.

Fenrir Greyback, the root of Lupin's suffering, grinned at them with crimson-stained sharp teeth. "Ready to play, kiddos?" he taunted, licking a bloody clawed finger as though he had just dipped it in a pudding. "It won't be as fun for you."

Greyback was accustomed to terrorising the weak and scared, such as young children or helpless Muggles. However, Severus wasn't powerless; he was a battle-hardened wizard.

Without hesitation, he aimed his wand and fired: "Petrificus Totalus!"

The next instant, Mr Longbottom lunged forward, plunging the gleaming silver sword in his hand into Greyback's chest.

Greyback looked at them in shock before collapsing to the ground, motionless.

Severus battled on until Mrs Weasley and Bellatrix commenced a duel. He would have applauded at the mad bitch's demise if the Dark Lord hadn't thrown a tantrum, blasting him and other onlookers over with a magical burst.

"'Protego!'" Harry's voice suddenly rang throughout the Hall, shielding Mrs Weasley from the Dark Lord's wrath.

No longer hidden under his Cloak, Harry glared defiantly at the Dark Lord. Severus struggled to remain still, wanting to rush forward and protect Harry, but he knew this final confrontation had to be between Harry and the Dark Lord alone. Harry said as much a few moments later.

He listened as they verbally sparred, tears pooling in his eyes at Harry's words.

"'Severus Snape wasn't yours…'"

"'Snape's Patronus was a doe…same as my mother's…'"

Harry and the Dark Lord continued to exchange barbs, revealing histories and motives. Severus already knew much of what was disclosed, but Harry's information about the Elder Wand's allegiance surprised him.

"'I am the true master of the Elder Wand,'" Harry declared last, causing Severus to gasp in awe and hope.

In the next instant, deadly green and vibrant red spells arched across the Hall between the Dark Lord and Harry. When their spells met, a resonant boom echoed throughout the room, and the Elder Wand flew from the Dark Lord's grasp as if his hand had been swatted like that of an errant child.

The Dark Lord toppled over like a rotten tree, eyes dull, his unmoving body appearing thin and frail without the aura of powerful magic. Light beamed through stained glass, casting a fiery crimson glow like molten blood across the Dark Lord's corpse.

Severus glanced at his left forearm, half-expecting to see the fading imprint of black ink, but of course, being in Weasley's body, it bore no trace of the Dark Mark.

A wellspring of emotion he couldn't contain surged within him. He sank to his knees and, a few moments later, felt slender feminine arms surround him. For a brief, desperate moment, Severus thought it was Lily, but when he pulled away to look, he found Miss Granger smiling, crying, and laughing all at once.

She pulled Severus up and dragged him to Harry's side. Harry hugged them both with Draco's wand and the Elder Wand in his left hand. Others joined them, shouting and crying in exaltation. They gathered around Harry, forming a larger living being with him at its centre as if he were the vital heart pumping life into their collective body.

As the day wore on, Severus felt muted. He forced a smile when necessary, spoke when necessary, did what was necessary.

Currently, he sat with Miss Granger resting next to him and stared at the forlorn Malfoys, tempted to start a conversation with them somehow.

Before he could act on the impulse, Severus heard Harry softly announce his invisible presence and ask, "'Will you come with me?'"

Miss Granger stood immediately, and after a slight pause, he did the same.

Once they were far enough away, Harry removed his Cloak. Then, as they continued to walk and Harry shared all he had witnessed, Severus unconsciously led them to the Headmaster's study, out of habit.

After some theatrics from the portraits of past Headmasters, Harry conversed with Dumbledore. Their altruistic chatter about powerful magical artefacts made his stomach sour from its lemon sherbet sweetness.

Performing the impossible yet again, Harry used the Elder Wand to fix the broken pieces of his own with a simple "'Reparo.'"

Inspiration struck, and Severus said, "Merlin's beard, I could have really used that trick in second year." He chuckled and quipped, "Any other wands you want to go and rescue?"

Harry thought for a moment, hopefully in the direction Severus wanted.

"Yeah," Harry finally answered with a determined nod. "But I can do it with my own wand. Accio Professor Snape's wand!"

About thirty seconds later, a black lacquered wand flew through a broken window into Harry's outstretched hand.

With reverence, he placed Severus' wand on the desk. "Don't worry, Professor Snape. For all the bravery you showed, I'll make sure your portrait is displayed, too." He gave the wand a kind pat. "But for now, this'll have to do."

Glancing at the wall of deceased Headmasters and considering his current state, Severus wondered if his portrait would bear his old face or his new one and whether it would be possible for there to be one at all.

Mr Weasley's Patronus, a silvery, ethereal squirrel, scurried into the room, stopping before Severus.

"It's time we all returned home," spoke Mr Weasley's tired voice. "We'll be waiting in the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione, you're, of course, welcome too."

Severus dreaded going to the Burrow, but he was absolutely exhausted, like everyone else who had not taken a Wideye Potion.

After giving perfunctory thanks and salutations to Dumbledore and the rest of the portraits, he, Miss Granger, and Harry headed towards the exit. On the way out, Severus deftly nabbed his real wand.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but Severus' firm look made him shut it and raise his bushy white eyebrows in surprise and silent question.

When they entered the Great Hall after returning the Elder Wand to Dumbledore's gave, solemnity weighed heavily in the air. A line of wooden coffins now occupied the middle of the room, each serving as a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the cost of conflict. Nameplates had been affixed to each lid, and the Weasleys were gathered around Fred's coffin.

Spotting them, Mr Weasley approached and gave them a quick group hug, making Severus feel like he was an unsuspecting kelpie caught in a net until he was released.

Mr Weasley gazed at their dirty and sleep-deprived faces. "Would you three be willing to help us bring Fred back home?"

"I'd be honoured, Mr Weasley," answered Harry without any hesitation.

Miss Granger wiped away a tear and cleared her throat. "I'd be honoured as well."

Severus nodded stiffly, feeling like he was stealing a precious moment from Weasley.

When possible, in a show of utmost respect, the dead were not shrunken for easy transportability but were instead physically carried by loved ones. The same was done for Dumbledore. Severus doubted his own remains would be treated as such. And why would they? He had ensured he was seen as untrustworthy. Heartless, even. He had been fearfully respected by most, not genuinely.

A hush fell over the Hall as Mr Weasley and William positioned themselves at the head of Fred's temporary coffin. In front of them, Charles and Percy assumed their places, followed by George and Severus, with Harry and Miss Granger taking their stance at its foot, all of them acting as sentinels in a unified gesture of honour.

As one, they lifted the coffin and moved in a procession out of Hogwarts, with Miss Weasley and Fleur Delacour on either side of Mrs Weasley, supporting and comforting her.

Once outside in the waning golden sunlight, they found an area in the courtyard clear of debris and came to a halt.

"All right, everyone," Mr Weasley said, "let's aim for near the front steps. On the count of three. One. Two. Three."

Tightly holding on to their precious cargo, they Disapparated simultaneously.

Arriving at the Burrow, clouds hung over the Weasley family home like a burial shroud.

With a flick of his wand, Mr Weasley cast a spell to widen the doorframe. "Let's go ahead and place him in the conservatory for now," he said, his eyes welling up. "Although, if he were here, he'd probably suggest something outlandish like the kitchen. Would say something like, 'It'd only be right, Dad. Mum wouldn't want me to miss a meal.'" He chuckled, quickly wiping away tears with a finger.

Mrs Weasley smiled at his words, her sorrow streaming freely down her cheeks. She cleared her throat. "Well, I'll go ahead and get a meal going," she said before hurrying into the house.

Carefully, they carried Fred past the threshold. Although Severus knew the location of the Burrow, he had never actually been inside and had to rely on the cues of the others for his following footsteps.

Once in the conservatory overlooking the garden, Mrs Delacour Transfigured an empty clay planter into a table with a graceful swish of her wand, and the group set the coffin upon it gently.

While most everyone dispersed to rest, clean up, or lend a hand to Mrs Weasley, Miss Granger pulled Severus aside.

"Come on, Ron," she urged. "Let's go upstairs so I can check you for Inferi-osis."

Ah, that's right. I might have simply traded one excruciating death for an even more excruciating one.

Her hand clasped his, making him uncomfortable as they ascended the stairway by the back garden door to the second floor.

On the landing, Severus could see three doors. One had the faint sound of a shower running, which ruled it out. The other two doors were decorated with Quidditch posters, still leaving him unsure of which one to approach.

Fortunately, Miss Granger chose for him, opening the nearest door with a poster of the Chudley Cannons. He should have known Weasley would root for the most abysmal team in the league.

Severus followed her to a bed against the wall separating them from the hallway. He swallowed, Miss Granger's presence and the tight quarters of the room feeling claustrophobic. Objectively, Severus knew she was an attractive, intelligent witch, but he had only ever thought of her as an insufferable know-it-all; however, her sitting with barely a foot between them made him quite uneasy. Miss Granger's rich brown gaze was open and filled with care, and it was focused solely on him.

Feeling his teenage body betray him, Severus casually hid his crotch with a hand, desperately wishing his Occlumency shields still existed. He already knew the diagnostic spell she wanted to cast and would rather minimise his time alone with her from here on out.

"Hermione," said Severus, "how about you teach me that spell? Bet you've got better things to do than babysit me."

She smiled at him. "It's no problem at all. And I can teach you afterwards if you like. I must say, Ronald, it's nice to hear you want to learn more."

Miss Granger took a moment to practice the wand movement and cadence of the spell.

"All right," she said, pointing her wand tip between his eyes. "Inferi-Detectum Praecisio."

They held their breath as her magic investigated him from head to toe for signs of necrosis. When the sensation tickled his feet, he couldn't help but let out a mortifying giggle. Severus mentally cursed Weasley's undisciplined body.

At least I'm no longer hard, he thought, relieved.

Upon receiving a negative result, they visibly relaxed.

"To be safe—" she began, but Severus, eager to leave, finished her sentence.

"I'll need to check myself weekly for the next six months."

"Yes, that's right," she said, surprised. "Where did you learn that?"

"Oh, you know, from some book," Severus attempted, aware that Weasley would rather vomit slugs all day than read a book for knowledge and not merely entertainment.

"Just a handful of books contain that information," Miss Granger said slowly, her disbelief apparent. "Which one did you read? Was it Rare Magical Maladies by Beaumont Marchbanks?"

Severus nodded because that was indeed a book he had read, along with Arcane Ailments: A Comprehensive Guide to Magical Illnesses and Brewing Dark Diseases, the latter of which was found only in his private collection; not even the Restricted Section had a copy.

"When did you read it?" she asked.

"While I was…away," he said, alluding to when Weasley had left her and Harry during the war, hoping to distract her and avoid further questioning.

Miss Granger sighed. "Please don't bring that up again. We've already discussed it enough, haven't we? I'm still upset about it, even though I've forgiven you."

She…forgave him, Severus thought with yearning, remembering how he had begged Lily's forgiveness to no avail.

However, Miss Granger misinterrupted his longing look because, the next instant, she pounced, smashing their mouths together.

He gasped, his eyes as large as Quidditch hoops and his erection instantly resurrecting.

Finding his wits, he attempted to lean back. "M-Miss Granger!" he mumbled against her lips. "Desist at once!"

She paused, then pulled away, frowning. "Miss Granger?" she echoed incredulously. "Ronald, is this really the time for such a joke? I've always said you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, but honestly!"

"I'm afraid this isn't a joke," Severus replied with all seriousness, gripping his familiar wand hidden by his thigh.

Miss Granger did not scream. Instead, she leapt to her feet and aimed her wand at his chest. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Where's Ron?"

Severus considered his options: trying to explain further? physically or magically disabling her?

He opted for a more direct approach. First, he cast non-verbally to push Miss Granger onto her rear. The result was less forceful than he'd hoped, only causing her to wobble on her feet, but it afforded him enough time to perform his next spell.

Concentrating on the first time Lily had hugged him and called him her best friend, Severus waved his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

His luminous doe Patronus burst forth from his wand's tip, then elegantly trotted over to him, bowing her head in greeting.

Miss Granger gaped, her eyes darting back and forth between his reclaimed wand and the silvery doe standing between them. Although no longer a Legilimens, Severus could almost see the cogs turning in her mind as she connected what Harry had divulged to the Dark Lord during the battle with what she was witnessing now.

He focused on an image of Harry's face and said, "You are needed in Ronald Weasley's bedroom."

The doe galloped away, phasing right through the floor.

Miss Granger visibly trembled with a mixture of astonishment and fearful comprehension. "P-Professor Snape?" she asked hesitantly.

Severus nodded in confirmation.

"I don't understand," she continued. "If you're here, then where's Ron?"

"That, I do not know," he answered. "I can tell you we are not inhabiting the same body. The only presence I feel is my own."

Her hand flew to her mouth as she inhaled sharply. "Did I do this? Mixing potions in untried ways? Did I somehow overlook something?"

"I can assure you, Miss Granger, that the combination of Elixir of Last Hope, Liquid Luck, and Vitalis Draught could not have resulted in this," Severus stated, gesturing towards himself.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Harry stormed into the room, his expression desperate.

"Where is he?" Harry asked, confused.

"Professor Snape?" Miss Granger said, her voice still tinged with doubt.

Harry nodded.

"Well then, he's right there," replied Miss Granger, pointing at Severus.

"What?" Harry said, looking baffled, seeing only Ronald Weasley. After thinking for a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, but Severus, anticipating the question, quickly interrupted.

"If you were going to ask if I have taken Polyjuice Potion, then the answer is no."

"But…but how can this be?" Harry asked. "When I glanced at the clock, all the Weasleys were shown being 'Home' except for Fred."

"Is Fred's hand still on it?" Miss Granger asked.

"No," replied Harry with a soft, sad smile. "And it's not simply a wall clock anymore; it now resembles the body of a cuckoo clock. It was quite something when it randomly played "Pop Goes the Weasel" with emerging dancers, broom riders, animals, and a small fireworks display. The clock has already activated twice so far. No one's tried to stop it or change it back. I doubt anyone has the heart to try."

With a sinking feeling, Severus recalled his body's earlier two embarrassing, inappropriate physical reactions and had an idea of what might be triggering the clock.

"If only Fred Weasley's hand is missing," Severus began, "then the clock's enchantment must be based on blood magic, not innate magic, which further confirms that this is indeed Ronald Weasley's body."

"Perhaps Ron's soul is also in another body," Miss Granger suggested hopefully.

Harry slowly nodded in agreement. However, everyone remained silent for a moment, not wanting to contemplate the other possibility.

"We need to tell the others," she said, breaking their verbal stalemate.

"Do you think that wise?" Severus asked.

"No. Hermione's right," Harry said firmly. "Keeping something like this quiet wouldn't be right."

Severus sighed. "Very well."

He and Harry stood back when they moved towards the door, allowing Miss Granger to exit first.

"After you," Severus said politely.

Miss Granger blushed a bright Gryffindor red and avoided further eye contact as she hurried past.

Harry glanced at him sideways but did not comment.

As Severus entered the kitchen, he saw Mrs Weasley tossing finely chopped parsley into a simmering pot.

Hearing them, she looked over her shoulder. "Oh, there you are, dears. Sit down, you all look like you could use a good meal. Soup will be ready in a minute or two."

He, Harry, and Miss Granger each chose a mismatched chair and sat down.

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked.

Mrs Weasley placed two sliced loaves of hearty bread on the table, her movements thoughtful yet warm like the food itself. "Arthur and Percy have popped over to the Ministry," she said, sounding slightly weary. "They're dealing with Fred's death certificate. With the Ministry in such disarray, it seemed wise to start sorting through that mess sooner rather than later. Bill and Fleur have returned to Shell Cottage to gather some things, and Charlie's out ensuring the family plot is ready… George, well, George has shut himself away in his room for now, and Ginny's upstairs, freshening up."

"Mrs Weasley," Miss Granger said softly, "I think you should sit down. We need to tell you something."

Concern overtook Mrs Weasley's face, and she hurried to stir the soup a few times before joining them at the table.

"Is everything alright, dears?" she asked once settled.

After a short pause, Miss Granger burst into tears. Harry wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

"Mrs Weasley," Severus said, causing her to snap her head in his direction, "it pains me to say this, but your son Ronald Weasley is missing."

"Ronald—" she began irritatedly, but he cut her off.

"I may appear to be your son, but I am not. This is his body, but it does not contain his soul."

Her eyes narrowed at his words, and her fingers twitched toward her wand. She glanced at the clock, expecting to see her son's hand over 'Mortal Peril' or 'Lost', but when she saw it pointing at 'Home', a hint of belief took root amid her shocked realisation.

"It's true, Mrs Weasley," Miss Granger asserted shakily, using a napkin to wipe away tears. "He's really Professor Snape. But please, it's not what you might think. Professor Snape didn't cause this. He's good, a hero, even."

Harry nodded in agreement.

Severus wanted to scoff at their naive assumptions but remained silent.

"We're still piecing it together," Miss Granger admitted, "but all signs suggest this was not intentional. It seems more likely to be just some sort of magical mishap."

"Ron might be…his soul might be stuck somewhere too," Harry added, absentmindedly rubbing his faded lightning-bolt scar.

Turning her sceptical gaze away from Severus, Mrs Weasley's face softened, and she said, "Harry, Hermione, you know I trust your judgment. But all this talk about souls and bodies as if souls were plants to be uprooted and replanted willy-nilly… That is a lot to take in, even by wizarding standards."

"I understand," Harry said. "It is a lot. But Hermione and I have encountered soul magic before on our journey to defeat Voldemort. We've seen firsthand that it's possible for souls to be transferred, sometimes even accidentally." His gaze briefly met Severus', underscoring his point with a significant look.

"I think our first step should be checking St Mungo's," Miss Granger suggested, "and then we can go from there."

Mrs Weasley's eyes drifted worriedly towards the ceiling, likely considering George's current emotional state. "Perhaps it would be best if I stayed here for now. Besides, someone will need to inform the rest." She gave the table a firm pat with both hands, then rose to her feet and said, "But I insist you all have a bit to eat before you go; otherwise, you're prone to being admitted to St Mungo's yourselves."

A trio of bowls with steaming soup floated onto the table.

"Tuck in, you three," Mrs Weasley instructed, and without hesitation, they did.

Chapter Text

St Mungo's resembled a chaotic, overstuffed beige meat pie. The reception area was filled to the brim with conjured chairs, sofas, and even four-poster beds; lost, confused, or would-be patients; and worried loved ones. Aurors took up additional space, positioning themselves threateningly to keep everyone in check. The reason for the crowd became evident when Severus saw the incredibly long queue of people waiting to speak to the welcome witch, who felt far from welcoming based on her demeanour.

Not missing a beat, Miss Granger pulled Harry by the arm like a trophy husband and cut to the front of the queue.

"Excuse me," she said to attract the welcome witch's attention, ignoring the disgruntled utterances around them. "Has anyone admitted today mentioned that they were Ronald Weasley, or perhaps, been diagnosed with…possession?"

The welcome witch looked as if she was going to tell Miss Granger off until she noticed Harry. Her eyes widened.

"M-Mr Potter," the witch stuttered, raising a hand to neaten her blonde hair.

Miss Granger's expectant stare at the witch was so penetrating that Severus felt a newfound admiration for her.

"Ronald Weasley," the witch repeated. Glancing at Severus, she did a double-take. "Wait a second. I saw you in the Prophet. Aren't you Ronald Weasley, Undesirable No. 2?"

"Madam, the war is over," Harry said assertively, reminding the witch that he was the one who had defeated the Dark Lord. "Please, could you see to what Hermione asked?"

Flustered, the witch hurried to check the long list before her.

"No," she answered a few moments later. "No one by that name or suffering from possession."

"How about in a coma?" asked Miss Granger desperately.

"There are eleven, but only three were admitted today."

"Any from the battle at Hogwarts?" Severus asked.

"No. Because of the influx here, Healer-in-Charge Smethwyck thought it best to send Healers there."

Harry inhaled a slow, deep breath and asked, "What about the dead? Where are they being kept?"

"That would be the mortuary, Mr Potter. But you must find a Healer willing to accompany you if you want access there."

"Could you please call someone for us?" he asked, his eyes taking on a manipulative, forlorn quality.

In that moment, Severus thought Harry could almost pass for a Slytherin.

Sighing, the welcome witch tapped her wand on a grumpy gnome figurine paperweight. Glaring, it stood and stepped aside, revealing a black button she pressed. "Wait there," she instructed them, pointing to the area to the right of her desk.

They complied, and a few minutes later, an exhausted Healer approached.

"You rang, Madam Holloway," he said to the welcome witch.

She gestured to them and said, "They need an escort to The Vault."

"Right," replied the Healer. "For examination, identification, or collection?" he asked them, raising his eyebrows.

Harry, unsure of what to say, glanced at Severus and Miss Granger for guidance.

Beyond the classroom, Severus had little acquaintance with Weasley. Nonetheless, Weasley was Harry's best friend, and Harry, having grown close to the Weasley family, would be better suited to identify him and discern what steps to take next. "I shall leave it to your discretion, Mr Potter."

Upon hearing Severus' words, Harry grimaced. But reassured by Miss Granger's encouraging nod, he said, "I'm not sure. Possibly all of them."

The Healer grunted in acknowledgement and marked his clipboard. Then, without another glance at them, he began to walk away. "Follow me," he said, heading towards the lifts.

They weaved through the ever-moving crowd as they followed the Healer's lime-green-clad form.

Taking a page from Miss Granger's playbook, the Healer cut to the front of the queue of people waiting to go upstairs. "Official St Mungo's business," he declared, pressing the already-lit lift button impatiently.

A few seconds later, the lift arrived. The Healer waved the three of them inside, then held his hand up to stop others from entering.

As they ascended, the Healer presented them with a sheet of parchment with columns of signatures. "I'll need you all to sign here," he stated, offering a utilitarian quill. "A preventative measure against Necromancy and hag activity."

Miss Granger thoroughly examined the document before signing, earning Severus' approval. Harry followed suit, albeit with much less scrutiny. However, when it was Severus' turn, he hesitated, unsure of which name to use.

Hedging his bets, with a flourish, he signed Severus Weasley, happy to be rid of his father's name.

When they reached the fifth floor, instead of the front opening, a door appeared on their right and slid open, revealing a dim, cold hallway. The air was devoid of any scent, and silence hung heavy around them as though they were enveloped in the vacuum of space.

Severus noticed the hallway gradually brightening with light as they travelled toward the only visible door at its end.

Once they were in front of the ebony door embellished with wrought iron, the Healer knocked twice, paused, and then knocked thrice more.

A small viewing door abruptly opened at knee level, and the bulbous ice-blue eyes of a house-elf quickly inspected them. A fraction of a second later, the larger door swung open.

"Klimsy is happy to see Healer Gwynn"—her ears flapped excitedly—"and honoured to meet the kind Harry Potter and his friends. Please, come in."

Severus stepped inside and blinked. The room looked like it had been donated by a wealthy, pure-blood family from one of their opulent manors. A grand chandelier dangled overhead; white marble spanned the floors; and the walls were adorned with wood panelling alongside a mural, which depicted Persephone's journey either leaving or returning to Hades and the underworld, depending on one's interpretation of the work.

It all stood in stark contrast to the rows of preserved cadavers and, in sadder circumstances where little to no remains could be collected, the conjured hollow simulacra. Each was veiled beneath a crisp white sheet, their diverse lives ultimately culminating in a single clipboard attached to the foot of each table.

"How can Klimsy be helping you?" she chirped.

"Hello, Klimsy," Miss Granger greeted warmly. "Is there—" She swallowed hard before starting again. "Is there a Ronald Weasley here or someone who was possessed when they died?"

Klimsy slowly shook her head no and said, "Klimsy doesn't think so." Looking eager, she added, "But Harry Potter and his friends are welcome to check for themselves."

Healer Gwynn sighed. "I really need to get back downstairs."

Miss Granger gave him a forced smile. "We wouldn't want to keep you, Healer Gwynn. I'm sure Klimsy is more than capable of assisting us if we find ourselves needing anything."

Unsure whether her words were a gibe at him, Healer Gwynn cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well then, good day." He hurried to the exit.

Klimsy waved goodbye and resumed cleaning the already spotless room.

Severus, Harry, and Miss Granger decided to split up to check for any sign or mention of Weasley. During his search, Severus was surprised to come across Mundungus Fletcher, who had died from a mispronounced incantation, leaving only his hat and the hidden heirloom goblet inside. The goblet had been used as payment to create his simulacrum.

"Harry, Professor!" Miss Granger called out. "Over here, quickly!"

He and Harry rushed to her side. As they arrived, she folded down the sheet in front of them, causing Severus' chest to constrict.

The body of Severus Snape, his body lay pale and still.

If Weasley is indeed dead, will they bury my body in his stead or commission a simulacrum? he wondered.

Severus moved to examine the clipboard for his corpse, but Miss Granger beat him to it.

"It indicates the cause of death was exsanguination due to cervical avulsion and envenomation," she explained. "However, there's no mention of prior possession."

"Thank you for the succinct synopsis, Miss Granger," Severus muttered.

"Oh," she uttered, realising how callous it was to state his death so matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry, Professor."

Severus waved her off her apology. "Perhaps you two should examine the last row of bodies," he suggested. "I find myself in need of conducting further research here."

"All right, we'll take a look," Harry replied, giving him a supportive nod.

As they wandered off, Severus discreetly Summoned a few phials to collect samples of his body. He also performed a general diagnostic spell, although he didn't get it right until his second attempt; it confirmed the absence of foreign magic indicative of possession.

After storing his wand and samples in his pockets, Severus rejoined them. "Anything?" he asked.

"Nothing," answered Harry, sounding relieved.

"Then we should move on, Mr Potter."

Harry made a face. "Can you call me by my first name? It…it's odd"—and from his expression, he meant to say it hurts—"that the face of my best mate is calling me Mr Potter."

"Yes," Miss Granger interjected eagerly. "And please call me Hermione."

Severus sighed. "Very well. You may call me Severus if it eases your sensibilities."

Harry and Hermione grinned.

"Where to next?" Harry asked. "Muggle hospitals? Hogwarts?"

Hermione's eyebrows suddenly rose as an idea struck her. Taking a deep breath, she called out, "Kreacher, can you come here, please?"

With a pop, he appeared. "Miss Granger has called for Kreacher."

"Hello, Kreacher," Hermione greeted him, receiving a stiff bow in return.

"Kreacher," she continued, "we need your help. Ron is missing."

He glanced at Severus but didn't remark on anything.

"Could you check Hogwarts to see if Ron's there, or if someone's claiming to be him? And maybe ask a few of the house-elves if they're willing to help search?"

"Kreacher does not need to check," he said, to everyone's surprise. "Kreacher has seen Mr Weasley hiding away in the kitchens."

All of their heartbeats sped up.

"Are the anti-Apparation enchantments still down?" Severus asked.

"No, Mr-Weasley-Not-Weasley," Kreacher said, shaking his head. "The Aurors and Professors have placed new ones."

"What about the Floo Network?" Harry suggested.

Severus shook his head and said, "If they are re-enacting security measures, I highly doubt it."

"Best we Apparate and walk then," Hermione said.

"Klimsy can help," she offered, wringing her hands. "Klimsy can take you right to the kitchens. Klimsy is used to moving bodies and can take two at a time."

"And, er, we'll arrive alive, right?" Harry double-checked.

"Oh, yes, Harry Potter, sir. Souls weigh nothing at all," she said in all seriousness, causing Severus to crack a smile.

Since Severus had the bulkier body of the three, Kreacher Apparated with him while Klimsy took Harry and Hermione.

When they arrived less than a second later, the smell of fresh bread filled Severus' nostrils, and he heard the chatter of house-elves as they busied themselves with baking, roasting, and sautéing.

Harry and Hermione thanked Klimsy before she left to return to St Mungo's, and with her departure, they refocused on their purpose.

"Ron!" Hermione's voice rang out urgently, with Harry quickly joining in. "Ron!"

Kreacher pointed a spindly finger behind them.

With hope on their faces, they turned around to find the transparent ghost of Ronald Weasley hovering above a house-elf preparing a roast.

Hermione's legs trembled beneath her as she let out a gasp, her hands flying up to cover her mouth in shock. "No," she moaned, her eyes filling with tears in pained denial. Harry wrapped his arms around her, trying to provide comfort and support as she struggled to stay standing. Shaking with emotion himself, he buried his head in her neck.

Severus grimaced; their immense sorrow radiated from them, searing him with its intensity.

Noticing them, Ronald's eyes grew large, and he floated across the room towards them.

Hermione broke free from Harry's hold and rushed forward to meet him.

Ronald reached for her cheek and softly said, "Hermione." Sadly, his hand passed right through her.

"Ronald, why are you here?" she asked angrily. "Why didn't you move on?"

"I…I couldn't let myself leave you again," he replied, crystalline tears falling down his cheeks.

"I think we should give them a moment," Harry whispered into Severus' ear.

Severus nodded, and they moved to a quiet corner near the hearths.

"Harry," Severus said, capturing his attention immediately, "perhaps we should return to the Burrow to inform the Weasleys about the unfortunate circumstances."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "We should."

After a few more minutes, they approached Hermione, who was sitting on a prep table with her legs dangling off its side. Ronald sat beside her but didn't quite touch the table's surface.

Harry caught his breath sharply as he tried not to break down in sobs. He swallowed and then cleared his throat. "Severus and I are going to head back to let everyone know."

"All right," Hermione said hoarsely. "I…I think I'll stay here for now."

Harry gave her an understanding nod, and they shared a tight hug. Pulling away, he dabbed at his eyes with a sleeve.

"Mate," Ronald said, trying to lighten the mood, "there's no need for tears, alright? I might be gone, but I'm not properly gone. We can still chat about Quidditch, and hey, we can even play wizard chess. You'll just have to help me with my pieces, yeah?"

"Yeah, Ron," Harry said with a weak smile. "I'd like that. I just wish I could hug you, too."

"Me too, mate," Ronald replied softly. "Me too."

After Ronald jokingly commented, "You know, Professor, you're looking quite dashing for a change," Severus and Harry left the kitchens to begin their long walk past the gates where they could Disapparate.

Tired of watching Harry soil his sleeves with his snot and tears, Severus conjured him a handkerchief.

"Thanks," Harry said, wiping his face.

Pocketing the handkerchief, Harry smiled at him, and Severus felt his heart squeeze.

As soon as they left Hogwarts' boundary, they Disapparated to the Burrow with two consecutive cracks.

They hurried inside to discover Mrs Weasley standing by the kitchen basin. Seeing their expressions, she placed her hand, still clutching a tea towel, against her chest, bracing herself for the bad news.

Once Severus and Harry informed her about Ronald's death and subsequent ghosthood, Mrs Weasley sprang into action. First, she went upstairs to speak with George and Miss Weasley, who hurried downstairs with her afterwards. Next, she sent a message via her Patronus to Mr Weasley and Percy, while George reached out to William and Mrs Delacour, and Miss Weasley contacted Charles.

"Dears," Mrs Weasley said, addressing Severus and Harry at the kitchen table, "there are plenty of leftovers in the cupboard, so help yourselves."

"Don't you want us to come with you?" Harry asked, looking at George and Miss Weasley as they pulled on their coats.

"You've already done so much," Mrs Weasley said. "I want you two to rest; you've been on your feet for far too long. I'll send word if anything new pops up."

As if Mrs Weasley had cast a spell, Severus became keenly aware of his tiredness after they'd left. He covered his mouth to hide a yawn.

"I think I might have caused this," Harry said unexpectedly. He sighed. "Or, at least, I contributed to it."

"How so?" asked Severus, raising an eyebrow.

"Remember, on our way to the Headmaster's office, I mentioned how I became the Master of Death. What I haven't told anyone is that while Hermione was trying to save Ron and I was watching, terrified he'd die, I was also thinking about you. How I wished I hadn't witnessed your death since I was possibly having to experience another so soon with Ron. Basically, I had passing thoughts about how I'd rather you hadn't died."

"It's a…plausible hypothesis," Severus said, nodding thoughtfully. "A spark of intention the moment Ronald's soul exited his body backed up by ancient, powerful magic, along with the combination of potions Hermione gave, could have lent itself to my return."

"Do you think we should tell Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I shall leave that to you. You know her best."

Harry nodded, thinking, then smiled slightly. "Right. Thanks."

As the hours ticked by and the sunlight outside waned, they shared a meal, read in the living room, and even chatted further, keeping the conversation light. Periodically, one of them would have a sheen of tears appear in their eyes, leading to moments of silence until they regained their composure. Severus noted the effortless flow of their dialogue, suspecting Harry often forgot he was speaking to him and not Ronald.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and a weary line of Weasley family members entered, followed by Hermione, pale and gaunt. One by one, they noticed Severus sitting beside Harry on the sofa. Some paused with hope, seemingly wanting to run towards him until reality hit and they remembered who he really was; others immediately looked away, pain etched on their faces.

Most passed them with a quick greeting and settled themselves in the kitchen or upstairs; meanwhile, Hermione remained and squeezed between Severus and Harry, compelling them to make room. She looked despondently at Severus before taking Harry's hand and resting her head on his shoulder with a deep sigh.

A few minutes later, she was asleep, breathing steadily.

Harry yawned, the fourth time in as many minutes. "Reckon I'm done for the night," he whispered, careful not to wake Hermione as he eased himself up. "Gonna go upstairs to catch some sleep," he added, turning towards Severus. "You're welcome to join; Ron's room has enough space for the two of us."

Completely knackered, both mentally and physically, Severus nodded in agreement, feeling relieved at Harry's invitation.

Before leaving, they made Hermione more comfortable by lifting her legs onto the cushions, positioning a pillow under her head, and covering her with a blanket. Then, ascending the living room stairs, they moved silently to avoid disturbing the heavy sense of mourning around them.

Upon reaching the second-floor landing, Harry whispered, "Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?"

"By all means," Severus replied softly with a teasing hint of sarcasm. "It would indeed be remiss to deny the saviour of the wizarding world preferential treatment to any bathroom."

Recognising Severus' dry wit, Harry couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Severus.

Exhilaration coursed through him at hearing Harry speak his name with such ease, and he swiftly masked his grin of pleasure with a neutral expression.

After Lily's death, he vowed never to truly follow the Dark Lord again. The Dark Lord had squandered his initial power and, upon his subsequent resurrection, was consumed by the pursuit of vengeance for past wrongs.

Given his own second chance, Severus resolved to be different. He would let go of past animosities. He would shed the Marauders' hold on him and the label of Death Eater.

He would move forward. He was moving forward.

While Harry made his way down the hallway to the bathroom, Severus stepped into Ronald's room and went straight to the wardrobe to select clean sleepwear. He avoided anything in red and gold because, as a Head of Slytherin, wearing them would be tantamount to sacrilege. Ultimately, he opted for soft cotton pyjamas with a faded, tattersall checkered pattern in blue.

Severus placed his chosen clothes on the bed where Hermione had earlier accosted him, then, out of habit, began to tidy the room, starting with Vanishing any accumulated dust.

When Harry later opened the door, Severus turned to look, thinking nothing of it. However, his breath hitched as he caught sight of Harry freshly showered with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

As the faint sound of a cuckoo clock filtered into the room, he realised, to his utter shock, that, unlike his old heterosexual self, Ronald Weasley had been bisexual.

Chapter Text

Severus awoke on his side, sensing a presence before him. He felt warmth against his chest, in his arms, and around his middle, with someone's even breaths tickling his neck.

Opening his eyes to the dim morning light, he discovered Harry asleep atop the bed, only the quilt separating them. Their arms were wrapped around each other like lovers, and Severus could smell the lavender soap—with a hint of rosemary and mint—on Harry's skin.

He stilled, unsure of what to do. Had this been a usual occurrence between Harry and Ronald? he wondered.

The next moment, Harry stirred. Blearily, he opened his fluttering eyes, and Severus was treated to the closest view of Harry's emerald irises he'd ever had. Sadly, Harry's pupils contracted the more aware he became.

"Sorry," mumbled Harry, hastily reclaiming his arms. He turned over and reached towards the desk where his eyeglasses lay.

"Harry," Severus said with a slow, rich cadence.

Harry shivered and focused on his face. "Yeah?" he murmured, sliding his frames up the bridge of his nose with a finger.

"Why are you on my bed?"

"Ah, um," Harry began, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but Ron used to talk in his sleep quite a bit. You were having a nightmare, shouting, so I came over to sit beside you, which seemed to calm you down. But when I tried to leave, you—well, you asked me to stay,"—his cheeks reddened—"and mentioned some other things," he added, more to himself than to Severus. "So I, um, stayed."

Severus felt heat fill his face and flow down his throat like lava, knowing his salmon-pink blush was probably clashing with his red hair.

He cleared his throat. "I apologise if I said anything to cause you discomfort."

Harry chuckled. "No worries. Most of the time, you were just formulating possible potions. It helped me fall back asleep, actually," he added cheekily, causing Severus to snort in amusement.

For a moment, their eyes met, and a frisson of electricity seemed to pass between them.

"I need to go find Hermione," said Harry, rising to his feet. He tugged at the hem of the wine-coloured pyjama shirt he had Transfigured smaller from Ronald's wardrobe. "She has all the clothes I have in her beaded bag. If the bathroom down the hallway is in use, you can go to the one connected to Mr and Mrs Weasley's room on the first floor; they won't mind. There's also the bathroom on the fourth floor, but I don't recommend using it."

Severus nodded in understanding and gratitude. "I shall get ready and meet you in the kitchen, then," he said as he sat up.

"All right," Harry said while striding towards the door. "See you downstairs." Closing it softly behind him, he left.

After changing into a black jumper with vertical stripes, a grey shirt, and dark blue jeans, Severus walked to the nearest bathroom and, to his relief, found it unoccupied. He used the facilities, needing to conjure a new toothbrush, then went downstairs, careful to avoid the cursed step.

Mrs Weasley was already bustling in the kitchen. The worktops were laden with an abundance of food: trays brimming with fried eggs, sausages, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, and toast; a generous platter of kippers accompanied by buttered bread; succulent roast beef paired with Yorkshire pudding; freshly baked scones alongside an assortment of sweet and savoury Cornish pasties; and even a roasted turkey. Given the vast array of dishes under preservation charms, it seemed she had slept very little and had kept herself busy by cooking.

Looking at him, her eyes immediately welled up with tears, her face already red and swollen from past crying.

Severus stood there awkwardly, uncertain of how to proceed.

She decided for him, moving closer while dabbing at her eyes with her apron's corner.

"Come have some breakfast," Mrs Weasley urged, gently guiding him towards the table with a light touch on his arm. "The tea's freshly brewed, and there's coffee if you'd rather have that."

Just as he was about to sit down, her demeanour shifted to a more solemn expression. "My dear," she began, clasping his hands in hers, "I want you to know, even though I've lost two sons, in a way, I feel like I've gained another with you." Her face broke into a slight grin, revealing from whom the twins had inherited some of their impish charms. "And the best part? I didn't even have to change one nappy."

At this, Severus couldn't help but pull a face.

"Now, don't look at me like that. I'm not asking you to start calling me Mum, but you are more than welcome to call me Molly."

A wave of warmth surged through Severus at her words, a stark contrast to the coldness he had usually lived with before arriving at the Burrow. "Molly, thank you," he responded, his gratitude genuine. He was inwardly relieved; given his history, he half-expected to be shown the door rather than embraced so kindly. After all, his own mother had turned him out onto the streets more than once, following a fierce row during his teenage years.

"If you wish, please feel free to call me Severus," he offered.

She smiled and nodded.

A few minutes later, as Severus ate, Harry appeared, jumping the last couple of steps into the kitchen as if fleeing a pack of stampeding Puffskeins.

"Harry!" Molly exclaimed, amused but not shocked by his energetic entrance, used to rambunctious children rampaging throughout her home. "Would you like to start with some pumpkin juice?"

"That sounds great, Mrs Weasley," he replied, sitting heavily in the chair to the left of Severus with a relieved sigh.

After Harry, others trickled into the kitchen like an indecisive leak. Once everyone was present, they somberly spoke about the preparations for Fred's and Ronald's funerals: owls that needed to be sent, venues, and other details. It was decided Fred's service would be next Saturday at the Burrow. Ronald was asked what he'd prefer, so his service would be on Sunday at Hogwarts, allowing him to attend. He also wanted all who were present to receive a Chocolate Frog in his honour.

Taking their cue from Molly, everyone in the Weasley household began addressing Severus by his first name. He felt it also helped them separate him from their brother.

Eventually, the topic of conversation turned to Quidditch, as if it were expected of them or a habit. They argued whether the Falmouth Falcons or the Wimbourne Wasps would win the next Britannia Quidditch Cup. However, their ribbing of each other seemed forced, and their grins did not quite reach their eyes.

"Severus, do you play Quidditch?" asked William.

"I did," Severus answered, surprising everyone but Harry, who'd learnt this tidbit the previous evening. "I played as Seeker for Slytherin during my second and third years, but in my fourth year, I decided to focus on my studies. I also knew of a classmate who dearly wanted the position and was willing to part with a hefty amount of Galleons for it." He refrained from mentioning that the classmate in question was Regulus Black.

"Why don't you kids go outside and play a game of Quidditch?" Arthur suggested.

Severus felt fairly certain that Arthur's reference to 'kids' included him.

"Yes. I think that's a splendid idea," Molly chimed in, noticing the tepid response. "Especially since I'd rather not trip over everyone while getting the house ready for guests."

"But, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said, "we could help—"

"Nonsense," Molly cut her off with gentle firmness. "I know this house best and have been renewing its charms before any of you were a glimmer in your parents' eyes."

Amusedly, most of the Weasley children grimaced with distaste at being reminded of what had been necessary for their existence.

Reluctant to challenge their mother further, the Weasley offspring agreed, and along with Fleur, Hermione, and Severus, they stood up from the table. Those willing to play quickly procured their brooms. Then, in a parade of discontent, they made their way first to the shed for the Quidditch equipment before they passed the slightly overgrown back garden, being sure to avoid any peevish gnomes, and through the blooming orchard to the expansive field beyond.

Hermione sat down at a nearby picnic table underneath a lone old oak, her choice influenced more by her lack of interest in flying than by a need to balance numbers. The rest negotiated which position they would prefer, which grew animated since there weren't enough players for two complete teams.

After the dust settled, Team Green consisted of Harry assuming the role of Beater, a choice shaped by George's reluctance to play the position without Fred. Severus, cognizant of Ronald's past as Keeper, opted to be a Chaser alongside Fleur, while George agreed to be Keeper. Team Red saw William as Beater, with Charles and Miss Weasley flying as Chasers, and Percy standing guard as Keeper. With no Seekers, they would play until the first team scored one hundred fifty points.

Severus mounted Ronald's Cleansweep Eleven and found he couldn't fly with the ease he was used to, another reminder that certain skills he had toiled to acquire would need to be relearned. Sighing, he took his position.

When Hermione tossed the Quaffle into the air, George and Percy dashed off to their respective goalposts. Miss Weasley managed to gain ownership of the ball, with Charles, Fleur, and Severus barrelling after her. After the release of the Bludgers, the Chasers scattered. Harry swung his Beater's bat, protecting Severus from a Bludger and forcing Miss Weasley to dodge, allowing Fleur to steal.

At first, the gameplay mainly consisted of an outpouring of pent-up anger and frustration with sharp movements and hard hits and throws, but gradually, a sense of camaraderie and the bright blue sky above them tempered it.

Grinning diabolically, Severus swooped down from behind. At just the right moment, he manoeuvred out of the way, allowing the oncoming Bludger, a gift from Harry, to slam into Charles's back. The Quaffle popped from Charles's grasp, and Severus caught it and scored another ten points for the win.

Team Red groaned, and Harry's exuberant shout of "Brilliantly done, Severus!" warmed Severus' insides and filled him with elation.

When about an hour had passed and they were in the middle of their second game, Molly appeared with a tray of roast beef and turkey sandwiches along with empty glasses for them to cast Aguamenti to fill. She set the food on the picnic table and waved. Everybody on a broom returned her wave with one of their own, causing William to groan and swear from a Bludger's unexpected blow.

With that, Molly went back to the house, leaving them to continue their game.

They played a total of three games in the end, with Team Green winning two to one.

Afterwards, with the grass tickling their skin and the smell of fresh earth around them, they all lay on the ground for a while and simply stared at the sky with its slowly moving clouds. Sometimes, sniffles could be heard, but everyone respectfully remained silent.

"We should head back inside," Percy said, sitting up.

They sighed, grumbled, or groaned at his words but acquiesced, getting to their feet.

Severus brushed his clothes to remove any debris and strode to the picnic table. Like many others, he had eaten between the second and third match, yet he felt famished again and removed a preservation charm on a sandwich before inhaling it, as did a few others. Hermione also enjoyed one, having not eaten since breakfast.

They all worked together to clean up, then journeyed back to the house, entering via the back garden door.

"Dibs on the second-floor bathroom!" said Miss Weasley, rushing upstairs.

Percy followed close behind, shouting, "First dibs on Mum and Dad's!"

William, Charles, and George rolled their eyes and, in unison, pointed their wand at themselves and said, "Scourgify."

Harry and Severus followed suit in casting the cleaning charm, but Hermione, having not played, didn't bother.

As Fleur glided past them towards the kitchen, her broom gracefully carried in one hand and the food tray levitating behind her, she called over her shoulder, "Bill, mon cher, could you let me know when a bathroom eez free?"

The scars on William's face stretched as he gave her an affectionate grin and nodded.

Witnessing William and Fleur's cloying love, Severus grimaced. He wanted to be away from it. Also, all the activity had him feeling off, so he ventured straight to Ronald's room, Harry and Hermione following him.

Severus entered and sat on the edge of Harry's bed, his back toward the window, not wanting to see more of the beautiful spring day.

"All the fresh air must have got to me," said Hermione, sitting heavily on his right.

"Yeah," Harry agreed and took a seat on Severus' left.

Hermione lay down with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. "I'm glad Mrs Weasley suggested we go out."

Harry reclined onto the bed, too, sighing with pleasure. "I'd almost forgotten how much I loved playing. Haven't done it since my well-deserved ban by you in sixth year," he said, gazing at Severus with a self-deprecating smile. He patted the empty space between himself and Hermione. "Come on, Severus. Join us," he said playfully.

Severus raised an eyebrow at him, his face reddening, and Hermione exhaled a hard laugh, then giggled.

He winced at his teenage body's simple-mindedness and sighed as the faint sound of a cuckoo clock's song came through the door.

With the sensation of a poplar tree's fluffy white seeds floating inside his skull, he joined them, carefully hiding his predicament.

"It's so surreal that the war's over," Harry said.

Shutting her eyes, Hermione hummed in agreement. "Yes, we won." She paused for a moment, then snorted and softly said in a sing-song voice, "We are the champions, my friends."

They looked at her with amused surprise, recognising the popular Muggle song lyrics.

Off-key and oddly sounding somewhat inebriated, Harry continued the following line, "And we'll keep on fighting till the end."

"We are the champions!" Harry and Hermione sang together louder. "We are the champions!"

With a sense of bemused resignation, Severus thought, What the hell? and added his slightly slurring voice to the chorus.

"No time for losers! 'Cause we are the champions of the World!"

Severus heard the bedroom door open and glimpsed Charles peeking inside.

"Are they…singing?" Charles asked George standing beside him. He listened for a few more seconds as they continued to belt the rock anthem. "What are they singing?" he asked, bewildered.

With a knowing, mischievous gleam in his eye, George cracked a smile for the first since Fred's death. "I don't know, but whatever it is, it's top-notch."

Severus wasn't sure at what point he fell unconscious, possibly between the last verse and chorus, but when he woke—having had his best sleep in months—the room was dim, lit only by candlelight. Remembering everything that had happened, Severus couldn't believe he, a master of brewing, had been pranked into a drunken stupor with a potion of some sort, likely in his food and likely by George Weasley. However, he couldn't help but commend George's formula. Perhaps I'll ask him about the intricacies of its creation tomorrow.

He gazed out the window and, on its darkened surface, saw the reflection of Harry and Hermione sitting side by side on the other bed. Eavesdropping, he realised Harry was in the middle of informing her about how Severus had probably returned from the dead.

"I see," Hermione said at the end of Harry's explanation, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I can't blame Severus, of course. Yet, it…it just feels so profoundly unfair. Ron and I shared our first kiss in the Chamber of Secrets." She grinned at Harry's look of surprise. "After all the pining and arguments, I believed we were finally going to make it work." Her smile faded, tears spilling over. "But Ron, as a ghost, it's just not the same."

Her tears flowing freely now, she whispered, "I miss him terribly."

Harry and Hermione quietly held each other, finding solace in their mutual grief.

Severus didn't want to disturb them, and in truth, he felt immense guilt for having survived when so many others deserved it more.

Hermione lifted her head a few minutes later and peered at Harry's face. "I've always been curious. From Ron's sleep-talking, we both know he loved you…more than just a friend.

"I did consider the idea of sharing," she said with a soft chuckle, "but as you know, I am the jealous sort."

"Should I be watching for incoming birds?" Harry teased playfully.

Her laughter filled the room, dispelling the tension. "No." Her expression sobered. "I know you fancied Cedric and Dean, so I have to ask, did you ever feel that way about Ron?"

"Never," Harry answered immediately. "For me, there wasn't a spark."

Her shoulders relaxed, and a small smile appeared on her face. "Well, I think I shall have something to eat and turn in early." She pressed a kiss to his cheek as she rose. "Goodnight, Harry. You know, words can't express how thankful I am for your saving the world."

Harry's eyes shined with unshed tears as he gently shook his head at her words. "Goodnight, Hermione. But remember, it wasn't just me. I might have played a part, but it was you and everyone else who truly helped to save it."

As Hermione departed, Severus longed for the bond between her and Harry and the unwavering support they provided for one another. He pondered how different his life could have been with such a friendship.

With Hermione gone, he ventured to flip over and found Harry removing his shirt. Severus' mouth instantly went dry at the sight of Harry's lean frame.

Cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoo…

"Severus, you're awake," said Harry with a pleased grin, his stunning gaze seeming to glow in the flickering candlelight. "Merlin, it's baking in here. I swear Ron's room is the worst. Poor bloke was cursed with a bedroom above the kitchen and utility room." Using his balled-up shirt, he wiped away the sweat on his chest.

Cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoo…

Severus yearned for his Occlumency shields. This inability to control his body and compartmentalise his thoughts was unbearable.

He had to get away.

Quickly standing and discreetly covering the bulge in his trousers, he rushed out of the sweltering room and to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Thoughts of Harry continued to swirl in his mind like a cyclone of forbidden desires. True, Harry's features did remind him of James and Lily, but it wasn't them he was currently thinking of. Now, his thoughts were consumed by the strong line of Harry's jaw…his muscular arms…his scent, and the shape of his cock beneath his—

Severus gasped, then moaned as his rigid member unexpectedly began to pulse in his jeans. Grabbing onto the edge of the basin with both hands, he closed his eyes, not wanting to see his reflection in the mirror as further pleasure assailed him. Time seemed to lose all meaning, his climax lasting twice as long as what he was used to.

In the aftermath, Severus gazed at his stunned expression, so alien on Ronald's face. He had never come to the thought of a man before, but based on the strength of this orgasm, he knew—and also feared—that this wouldn't be the last time.

Chapter Text

One Month Later

After triple the amount of time it usually took him to prepare ingredients, Severus was ready. Thankfully, although his muscle memory was compromised, he found, to his amazement and relief, that Ronald's brainpower was more than adequate and had managed to piece together this novel potion in only a few weeks.

Now, on the cusp of brewing, there was no room for wandering, tempting thoughts.

Every night since the war ended, Severus had dedicated himself to his mental Occlumency exercises, gradually improving. Feeling more like his old self than he had in a long time, he felt fully prepared for the challenging three hours that lay ahead.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather visit with Ronald in the kitchens?" he asked Harry, who was lounging on a nearby armchair with a book, like a Kneazle that could read.

"No," Harry said emphatically, "I enjoy watching you work." A lovely colour spread high on his cheekbones. "And, er, I promised Hermione to look out for…erm, you."

Severus sighed. "Very well," he said, not commenting on Harry's awkward behaviour, although he dearly wanted to. "You know I am more than capable of performing this task? I'm not going to suddenly collapse from fatigue."

Harry smiled at him warmly. "I know, Severus. But we can't help but worry."

He offered a slight nod, appreciating the concern despite his misgivings.

Focusing himself, then casting a spell to light the fire beneath his cauldron, Severus began.

As he added ingredients, evaluated, and stirred, he had the passing thought that working in Ronald's body still made him feel like he was wearing a set of robes that didn't quite fit. Yet, the brew changed colours as expected from a deep, sapphire blue to a rich, emerald green and then to a vibrant, golden yellow.

For the last step, Severus sprinkled two pinches of ground Talonspike into the bubbling liquid and gave it precisely six and two-thirds clockwise stirs before extinguishing the flame to let the finished potion cool.

Severus knew now would be the most opportune time to discuss what was eating away at him. He coughed lightly, then casually said, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Miss Weasley earlier today."

"Oh?" uttered Harry, trying for nonchalance, but his flushing face gave him away.

"So…you fancy me?" asked Severus as he slowly drew closer.

Harry's mouth parted in shock, but he straightened his shoulders a moment later and boldly stated, "Yes, I do."

Severus continued reducing the distance between them until he stood directly over Harry's sitting form.

"You know, it's not proper, considering," Severus said softly.

Breaking eye contact, Harry murmured, "I know."

"Are you sure it's me you want and not him?"

In a burst of indignation, Harry leapt to his feet. "I know what I want," he asserted, eyes blazing with attraction and determination.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Severus asked. "After consuming this potion, my appearance will revert;"—pausing, he lifted his brow in contemplation—"however, technically, I shall still carry Weasley blood and always will. A fact that would certainly come to light should I ever father a—"

Before he could finish his thought, Harry wrapped his arms around him and moved his face a scant inch away from Severus'.

As Severus gazed into Harry's fully dilated eyes, he felt his heartbeat take flight like a wild, rapacious dragon. The heat of Harry's touch sent pleasurable shivers throughout his body. Fighting his desire, he raised his hands and firmly grasped Harry's biceps.

"I know what I want," repeated Harry, waiting for Severus to state or show his disapproval.

Another breath passed between them, inhaling and exhaling, tickling the other's lips. Then, in perfect unison, they drew together for a tentative kiss.

Harry's soft mouth felt divine, and just as Severus was about to delve deeper for a taste, a knock on the door interrupted them.

They had both forgotten.

Hurriedly tidying their appearance, they stepped apart.

Severus waved his wand at the entrance to unlock it, then cleared his throat and relaxed his expression. "Enter."

The heavy door to his private laboratory opened to reveal the Weasley family and Hermione clustered around the entrance like a curious scurry of squirrels.

In a steady line, they entered, starting with Arthur, who examined the shelves and cabinets organised with books and potion supplies, the classical artwork on the walls, and the windows with an underwater view of the lake.

"Never been this deep in snake territory before," William commented with a roguish smirk, his fang earring swinging.

"Better watch your step, then," Severus remarked with a sly grin. "Many a Gryffindor has found themselves lost in the labyrinth that is the dungeons."

Shaking his head in amusement, Harry said, "Thanks for stopping by, everyone."

"Of course, Harry, dear," Molly said. She turned to Severus. "How are you faring, Severus?" She frowned, her gaze going back and forth between him and Harry. "Are you boys alright? I know you were feeling fatigued earlier today, and now you both seem flushed."

Harry tittered nervously while Severus cursed her acute sense of observation.

Perhaps the war effort would have been more successful if Dumbledore had orchestrated her as a spy rather than me, Severus thought.

"We are fine, Molly," he said, giving her a reassuring smile.

Before Severus could say anything more, Arthur swept him up in a tight hug, simply holding him.

With Arthur's emotional gesture, everyone's expressions shifted to one of solemn resignation.

Immediately after Arthur stepped away, Molly enveloped him in her arms. Severus' eyes began to burn as she lovingly combed her fingers through his hair and said, "No matter what, you're always welcome home." She cupped his face in her hands. "So I expect to see you for dinner later tonight."

He smiled warmly and nodded.

One by one, they continued to offer him an embrace, fully aware of his past as a Death Eater and Dumbledore's killer. Severus sensed that their affection was genuine towards him as an individual, yet he also recognised that part of their warmth stemmed from seeing the familiar face of their loved one. This was their final opportunity to say goodbye to the Ronald they remembered, warm and breathing, a fact Severus accepted with a heavy heart.

"Severus," George said, stepping back from their hug, "if you're up for it, mate, I'd love to have your expertise at the shop full-time. Just think of the trouble we could create."

"I would first need to gift Professor McGonagall a large bottle of Ogdens Old Firewhisky," Severus said after a moment of thought, "but your offer does intrigue me."

The corner of George's mouth rose in a crooked, closed-mouth grin, the faintest glimmer of joy in his eyes. "Excellent. We'll talk more about it later tonight."

"Agreed," said Severus with a nod, feeling a tentative sense of excitement.

However, the moment was short-lived. From across the room, Miss Weasley stomped towards him, her glare burning Severus' skin from where he stood.

Once she reached him, she didn't offer a hug as the others had. Instead, Miss Weasley bent forward and whispered, "If you hurt him,"—she glanced at Harry and back—"I will end you."

He smiled, not mockingly but rather affectionately. She truly was in love with Harry, and Severus was intimately familiar with knowing what it was like to one-sidedly pine for another.

"Noted…Ginevra," he said, saying her name for the first time.

Her eyes narrowed while, at the same time, her lips curled slightly in amusement. "Good."

With that, her eyes grew watery, and she embraced him.

Severus held the heartbroken girl, who so reminded him of Lily, and at that moment, mentally offered his old friend a final farewell of his own.

A few minutes later, Arthur told the group, "We should head to the kitchens and leave Severus to finish his work."

"I believe I shall stay a smidge longer," said Hermione, briefly looking at Severus with sorrowful eyes. She had yet to come over to visit with him.

"Alright, dear," Molly said, concern on her face. "We'll see you in a little bit, then."

After the Weasley brood departed, Hermione paused briefly before approaching him. Meanwhile, Harry, having returned to the armchair, feigned indifference as he pretended to read his earlier book.

Hermione extended her hands towards Severus, silently asking him to place his in hers. He met Harry's gaze across the room and relaxed when Harry gave him an encouraging nod. Taking this as his cue, Severus placed his hands in her waiting palms. A sad smile touched her lips as she lightly held his hands and observed the contrasting appearance of their skin—hers smooth and tanned, while his was dotted with freckles. For a short moment, Hermione closed her eyes, savouring the warmth shared between them.

Abruptly releasing her hold, she stepped closer and desperately clung to him, clutching his jumper in each hand and resting her forehead against his chest.

As she quietly sobbed, Severus gently wrapped her in his arms.

With every tear she shed, he felt another boulder of shame crushing the breath from him. While a Death Eater, he had done unspeakable acts—acts that should have sealed his fate. Instead, he was alive, while young Ronald was dead.

"I'm sorry," Severus murmured softly to Hermione, his voice rough with emotion.

She lifted her head and gazed at him with an expression full of longing and loss. "May I?" she asked, her fingers hesitating before touching his cheek.

Understanding what she wished for, Severus gave a slight nod and leant down.

Their lips fleetingly touched, and Hermione sweetly kissed Ronald, not him, in a poignant goodbye.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Severus awkwardly nodded, feeling both hollow and strangely full from the bittersweet moment. Needing to look away, he shifted his attention to Harry, who was brushing away tears. When their gazes locked, Harry's supportive smile instantly lightened Severus' mood. He returned the gesture, and his heart fluttered in his chest.

Hermione looked at them knowingly, saying, "I believe I shall take my leave. Will you be joining me in the kitchens today?"

"How long do you plan to stay there?" Harry asked her.

"Until just before we all gather for dinner at seven," she replied.

"If everything goes as planned," Severus began, "we should make our way to the kitchens and meet you there no later than six."

"All right, I shall expect you both by then," Hermione said, giving them parting hugs before exiting the laboratory.

Severus returned to his workbench to inspect his potion. The golden liquid had ceased steaming and was now adequately cooled. Gazing into the cauldron, the potion's calm surface reflected Ronald's face with the clarity of a mirror. He carefully ladled the liquid into clear phials, filling three fully: one he would submit to the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, one he would keep for his personal stores, and one he would take shortly.

Before now, Polyjuice Potion could only be brewed with samples from live individuals and lasted merely an hour. However, those limitations were overcome with his newly crafted Permanent Polyjuice Potion. This potion could be taken only once to change one's appearance indefinitely. A second dose would result in instant death; he had ensured as much to prevent its abuse. Consequently, intent was crucial for the potion to activate; otherwise, it remained inert to prevent its use as a lethal poison.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked, standing beside him.

Swallowing his apprehension, Severus gave a determined nod and selected the phial on the far right of the potion rack. He knew the concoction's potential effects in theory, so he made his way to his armchair, preferring to be seated should he lose consciousness.

Harry followed him protectively, and once Severus was comfortably seated, he lingered nearby, fidgeting.

"If this goes pear-shaped, send a Patronus message to Madam Pomfrey," Severus instructed, his voice steady.

Harry nodded, his expression serious but supportive. "I have no doubt your potion is perfect, Severus. You're a brilliant potion maker."

Severus barely stifled a blush at the praise. Clearing his throat to maintain his composure, he managed a grateful "Thank you."

As he raised the potion towards his mouth, he paused momentarily, noticing Harry staring at his lips with an intensity that went beyond mere curiosity. Severus' throat suddenly went dry from desire, and he was relieved the incessant cuckoo clock wasn't nearby. With the image of his old appearance in mind, he swallowed the phial's contents and braced himself.

Seemingly all at once, Severus felt his body shiver with movement, his hair lengthening, tickling his neck, and his limbs becoming wiry rather than gawkily lanky. Sliding up his left sleeve, he glanced down at his arm and found it was no longer freckled, having been returned to its original creamy paleness. The Dark Mark had also vanished from his forearm, freeing him from its stain and causing his eyes to prickle with tears. After further inspection, he froze, noticing his skin appeared smoother—too soft and unblemished—and his arm hair was finer than he remembered.

He looked up, and when he saw Harry's expression, he knew.

"You look my age," Harry said with awe, confirming Severus' suspicion.

"I knew this was a possible outcome," Severus drawled, his voice returned to him but sounding painfully young. "Although I had hoped this wouldn't be the case."

"Why?" asked Harry. "You look…"—he swallowed hard and stepped closer into the V of Severus' thighs until their legs touched—"great. Really great."

"Because…" Severus began, but his thoughts rapidly turned carnal as Harry leant closer and ran his fingers through Severus' thick, newly youthful hair.

Using every ounce of his Occlumeny skill, Severus gritted his teeth and shook his head. "We shouldn't do this," he finally managed to say. "Our earlier kiss should be our last. I've already been given a second chance that's far too generous to contemplate. If I get to have you, too, I worry I'll be hunted down for the injustice of it."

Harry's warm breath tickled Severus' ear as he whispered, "Then don't," his words laden with urgency and yearning. He pulled back to meet Severus' gaze. "If anyone is to be blamed, it's me, not you," he avowed fervently, willing Severus to understand. "And I promise I will do everything I can to keep you safe, and I…Merlin, I care about you so much and want to be with you so desperately."

Breathing hard, Severus felt his body hum with pent-up longing and lust that he had been trying to contain for weeks. Despite his nightly practice of mental shielding, he'd only been at it for a month in his current body, and under the enormous pressure of his desire, they cracked for the second time that day.

He pulled Harry closer, immediately plundering Harry's mouth with his tongue. Harry moaned and moved to straddle Severus' lap. He clumsily returned Severus' passion, but his enthusiasm more than compensated for it. Severus marvelled at the feeling of a man in his arms versus a woman, the delightful sensation of Harry's arousal rubbing against his own, the mutual strength of their entwined limbs.

Recognising he was getting carried away, Severus gently broke their embrace, his lips still tingling from the lingering sensation of Harry's. While he wasn't a virgin, he might as well be with how shockingly sensitive and new everything felt. Each touch and caress seemed to fracture another layer of his control, making him ache for more.

Panting, Harry groaned and asked, "Why'd you stop?"

"I was getting too close," Severus admitted with embarrassment.

"Oh," Harry uttered, grinning with delight. Cautiously, he asked, "Have you…had sex before?"

"Yes," Severus said, his voice tinged with irritation. "But I currently have the body of a teenager and haven't had relations in quite some time. Also...I've never engaged in homosexual activities until now." Fixing his gaze intently on Harry, he enquired, "Have you ever had sex?"

Harry's cheeks reddened. "Er, no."

"Do you want to…with me?" Severus asked tentatively with guarded hope.

At his words, Harry smiled brightly. "Yes." He looked around the potions laboratory and said, "Though I never imagined I'd be doing it for the first time in a place like this."

"I…did not mean to imply we had to do it at this precise moment," Severus clarified awkwardly.

But Harry shook his head, yanking off his hooded sweatshirt and T-shirt in one swift motion. "If I have to wait even a second longer to be with you, I might just scream in frustration."

Severus salivated at the sight of Harry's exposed lean chest, and his eagerness to explore further spurred him to hurriedly say, "Then we shall stay here."

He confused Harry by urging him to stand, promptly doing the same himself. With a swift flick of his wand aimed at the armchair, he Transfigured it into a twin-sized bed that fit neatly into the space.

Afterwards, they stood in self-conscious silence, uncertain of their next move.

Harry laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. Gathering his Gryffindor nerve and inhaling deeply, he said, "Well, since I'm shirtless, it only seems fair that you be the same."

Severus glanced down at his clothed figure before returning his gaze to Harry's expectant face. With intense purpose, he stepped closer until their chests touched. He then firmly gripped Harry's upper arms, sensually sliding his hands down them and guiding Harry's fingers to his hips where the hem of his jumper waited.

"Harry," Severus drawled richly, "undress me."

Shivering at Severus' seductive tone, Harry gulped and nodded enthusiastically. "Right," he agreed.

Slowly and deliberately, Harry slipped the jumper and underlying shirt upwards, exposing smooth, flawless skin. Goose pimples rose across Severus' body from the cool air as he lifted his arms to assist. With his chest now bare as well, Severus could see that both of their nipples were hard and erect; while his were a soft pink, Harry's were a deeper, more reddish-brown colour.

Harry, unsure of what to do with his newly acquired garments, scanned the room for a suitable place to put them. Finally, he Banished the jumper and shirt onto the unoccupied stool next to the workbench and promptly returned his attention to Severus. Licking his lips in anticipation, he traced the lines of Severus' torso with his fingertips, admiring every contour. Whilst maintaining eye contact, Harry bent down to take one of Severus' sensitive nipples into his mouth.

A gasp escaped Severus' lips and then a low moan as Harry's warm mouth enveloped him. He closed his eyes as Harry licked and sucked, a light, experimental nibble making him jump. Pre-come seeped from Severus' straining cock as he fought to control his breathing; after countless fantasies and masturbation sessions over the past month, he could scarcely believe that Harry wanted him—and passionately so.

As soon as Harry ceased his tantalising torment, Severus opened his eyes only to find Harry grinning in satisfaction. At the moment, Harry's gaze was fixated on Severus' bulging groin and the silver belt buckle above it. Likewise, Severus took the opportunity to openly ogle Harry's own erection straining against the confines of his jeans. Sensing the rising tension between them, he swallowed hard.

Harry frowned, seeming to analyse Severus' remaining clothes as if they were a cryptic puzzle to solve. Making a decision, he suggested, "Shoes next?"

Severus glanced down at what were now slightly oversized, hand-me-down Oxfords before nodding in agreement.

Kneeling onto the floor, Harry untied the black laces and gently eased each foot from its confines. He also slipped off Severus' socks, Banishing them and the shoes onto the stool. When he smiled and looked upwards as though seeking praise, Severus had to clench his jaw to suppress a moan.

Intrigued, Harry ran his hands over the tops of Severus's bare feet, the warmth from his palms against the cooler skin making Severus shiver. Focused solely on accomplishing his next task, Harry moved his hands to Severus' belt buckle, gleaming like an unopened treasure chest. Loosening the belt strap, sliding the metal prong out of the hole, pulling the strap from the buckle's frame, and finally gently freeing the strip of leather from Severus' belt loops: Harry's actions were imbued with a passion-filled intensity that made Severus yearn to ravish him immediately without further delay.

The belt clattered onto the stone floor—forgotten—and Harry's fingers were already in motion to undo Severus' trouser button and zip. Once the fabric was splayed open, his gaze rested upon Severus' erection straining temptingly against his pants.

Harry gulped.

Wearing an expression of determination, he slid his thumbs under the waistbands of both Severus' jeans and pants, giving Severus a moment to retrieve his wand from a pocket. Then, holding his breath, he lowered Severus' last vestiges of modesty.

Harry's lips parted at his first glimpse of Severus' member: thick and throbbing. Coyly, a blush tinging his cheeks a charming shade of rose, he met Severus' gaze.

The look of earnest desire on Harry's face shattered what was left of Severus' Occlumency barriers, his willpower crashing onto the mental landscape of his mind. After kicking off the clothes pooled around his ankles, he pulled Harry up and urged him onto the bed. Swiftly, he stripped off the rest of Harry's clothing: white trainers and socks, a worn belt, jeans, and black pants.

Panting with want and excitement, Harry stared at him with wide eyes.

As Severus knelt on the bed between Harry's spread legs, he marvelled at the sight of Harry's masculine form. Harry was so aroused that his length brushed against his flat stomach, and a puddle of pre-come glistened just below his navel.

However, reality soon barged into Severus' skull when he realised he wasn't entirely certain what to do next.

Understanding his predicament, Harry smiled at him cheekily and, with a slightly uneven swish, cast a spell that Severus vaguely recognised.

"Oh!" exclaimed Harry in surprise at the ensuing effect. He grinned with relief. "I wasn't sure if it'd work." Reaching down, he lightly touched his opening now leaking a trail of lube. "But I reckon it did."

Unable to wait another second, Severus climbed on top of Harry. As their members pressed against each other, he lost himself in the depth of their kiss, their tongues entwining and their hands exploring each other's skin. The erotic sounds falling from Harry's lips spurred Severus on, and he moved to explore Harry's neck, his collarbones, and then his chest, paying particular attention to the delicate, responsive buds there.

"Severus…" Harry moaned in helpless ecstasy, lost to the pleasure.

Arriving at Harry's member, Severus paused for a moment to both appreciate it and gather his courage before enthusiastically, though somewhat clumsily, taking it into his mouth. Harry cried out in bliss while arching his back and grasping for Severus' once-again jet-black hair. Severus hummed with satisfaction as Harry's clean scent enveloped him, driving Severus even further into lustful abandon.

Minutes later, he pulled away when Harry's breathing became too rapid, not wanting him to climax quite yet. At Harry's whine of complaint, he replaced his mouth with a hand and leisurely began to stroke him up and down with light pressure. His exploration continued lower as he gradually teased Harry's testicles.

Unbeknownst to him, he had underestimated how close Harry truly was. When his tongue teased the edge of Harry's sensitive rim, his body stiffened and his grip on Severus' hair tightened.

"Merlin," gasped Harry in desperation before grunting as the first wave of an orgasm hit him. "Severus…" he uttered gutturally before all he could express were harsh breaths and moans as he writhed beneath him.

Even though Severus wanted to savour every second of Harry's pleasure as he lapped at the twitching hole before him, the warning tightening of his own balls forced him to pull away and grasp the base of his cock to prevent himself from reaching climax prematurely.

Basking in a sensual haze, Harry lay limp with his legs spread open and come dripping into the crevices of his firm stomach. Knowing that Harry's relaxed state would make him more receptive to penetration, Severus positioned his index finger at Harry's entrance.

"Harry," he said smoothly, charming him clean with a flick of his wand.

"Hmm?" murmured Harry.

Lightly circling Harry's opening, Severus grinned when he heard a shameless moan. "I'm going to begin preparing you now. Is that all right?"

Harry laughed softly and met his gaze. "Severus, it's more than all right," he replied, pressing his backside against Severus' finger to emphasise his point.

Severus nodded, taking a deep breath.

Carefully, he slid a finger into Harry's hot centre, accompanied by Harry's appreciative moan and parted lips.

As Severus continued to stretch and pleasure him, he couldn't help but notice the differences between being inside an anus for the first time versus a vagina. The first distinction was the temperature; Harry was deliciously warm, though absent was the increasing heat due to a surge in blood flow that a woman would typically experience. Harry's walls also felt smoother and tighter than any woman he had ever been with.

But being within Harry transcended beyond physicality into something sublime.

Over the previous month, Severus had completely fallen for Harry—not just in lust but actual love. Harry's protective nature towards him and his trust in him had renewed his starved heart. And he simply had fun with Harry—he laughed and conversed freely on various topics—big and small—something he'd never had with anyone else.

Gently introducing another digit, Severus kissed the inner sides of Harry's thighs whilst watching his face for signs of discomfort.

"Yes…" moaned Harry, lifting his hips so that Severus could pump his fingers into him more forcefully.

Almost overwhelmed by the sight of him, Severus had to briefly shut his eyes.

After regaining his senses, he glanced at his own ample member and deemed a third finger necessary, promptly slipping it in.

"Severus, please," pleaded Harry shortly afterwards. "I'm ready; I promise."

"If you're certain, Harry," Severus replied, pausing his movements.

"I am," Harry assured him.

"As you wish," he said, causing Harry to shiver with pleasure at his words.

Severus withdrew his fingers and then positioned the tip of his cock against Harry's entrance. Closing his eyes, he calmed his mind so as not to lose himself the moment he penetrated Harry's tight opening.

At last, he slowly pushed into Harry. As the muscles of Harry's arse welcomed him, they both moaned in unison at the exquisite connection.

With gentle thrusts, Severus made love to Harry, caressing and kissing him with reverence. Harry sighed and moaned in pleasure as Severus cautiously experimented with varying angles and depths—using Harry's responses as a guide.

Desiring further contact with Harry's skin against his own, Severus manoeuvred them onto their sides into an even more intimate embrace, their noses nearly touching. As he continued to glide in and out of Harry's slick backside, he cherished the sight of Harry's face, awash with pleasure—pupils dilated and mouth relaxed, slightly open.

Sensing Harry wanted more, Severus flipped them yet again, knowing letting Harry ride him was the most effective way to minimise potential discomfort.

An impish grin spread across Harry's face as he looked down at him. "You've done it now, Severus," he teased.

Positioning his hands on Severus' chest for support, he abruptly began riding him with abandon, deep and hard.

Severus' eyes rolled into the back of his head as he exhaled Harry's name. Any control he possessed deserted him, and he took hold of Harry's hips, meeting each of Harry's downward motions with a forceful upward thrust of his own.

Too soon for his liking, Severus felt his bollocks start to tighten. "Harry," he warned, panting heavily, "I…I'm going to…"

At Severus' words, Harry met his gaze, and his rhythm on top of Severus instantly turned uneven.

"Bloody hell…" Harry groaned helplessly before closing his eyes.

Hearing Harry call out his name in ecstasy and feeling a warm streak of come land on his chest, Severus immediately soared to his own climax. His throaty moans turned hoarse as his orgasm ran on while Harry's arse readily accepted what he had to offer.

Once they regained their composure, they looked at each other with expressions of astonishment and grinned sheepishly.

"Merlin…" Harry said, awestruck, "I've never come so hard in my life."

Severus chuckled lightly. "It seems we have a similar effect on each other, then."

Catching Severus' meaning, Harry's grin widened into a dazzling smile. "Perhaps a further experiment is in order tonight, just to confirm."

Severus let out a theatrical sigh. "If you insist, Harry," he murmured, his tone laden with feigned reluctance and a hint of amusement.

As Harry broke out in laughter, a surge of affection overwhelmed Severus, forcing him to look away.

Severus cleared his throat. "Let's get you more comfortable," he said, helping to lift Harry off him.

Severus and Harry cleaned themselves up with a quick spell; as Harry lay beside him, Severus conjured a blanket against the room's chill. Harry sighed—more pensive than contented—prompting Severus to pull him closer.

Silence fell, deep and resonant, until Harry spoke. "Severus," he whispered.

"Hmm?" Severus murmured, his voice muffled by sleepiness.

"I love you," Harry said, each word deliberate but also revealing his fear of rejection and the undeniable truth of his emotions.

A tightness immediately gripped Severus' chest. "What?" he asked quietly, his tone filled with scepticism and slow realisation.

"I love you," Harry repeated, this time with more assurance, his eyes fixed on Severus. "I'm in love with you."

Severus wrestled with a rush of emotion—surprise and joy battled with the need for caution and the comprehension of what admitting the extent of his feelings would mean. After a tense pause, he confessed the truth, "Harry, I…I feel the same," his voice faltering yet sincere, each word heavy with significance.

Their smiles were tentative but genuine, mirroring their mutual understanding. They stayed wrapped in each other's arms, finding comfort in the stillness. Eventually, they stood to dress and restore order to the laboratory, moving deliberately as if trying to extend their closeness as long as possible.

Once his workbench was spotless and every piece of equipment properly stored away, Severus and Harry stepped into the cool corridor, leaving the comfort of the laboratory behind.

Walking towards the kitchens, a task he had done countless times, Severus felt a profound shift within himself. No longer was he merely Severus Snape, shaped by past shadows with secrecy and scars; he was now a young man openly in love with Harry Potter, warmly accepted by a large, affectionate family, and friends with the kind and loyal Hermione Granger. Poised to start a fresh chapter beyond the walls of Hogwarts at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he felt the exhilaration and gravity of his newfound existence.

Despite the depth of his joy, Severus' steps were measured, conscious of Ronald Weasley's memory and the heavy cost paid for this happiness. Now, as Severus Weasley, he bore the responsibilities and dreams that came with his new name.

This time, however, he was not alone. With Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys by his side, Severus faced the call of his future with determination and a heart full of love, ready to meet whatever challenges it might bring.