The Recovered Life of Severus Snape
Minerva McGonagall was dead. Harry Potter sat in a lawyer's office for the reading of her will with a feeling of unreality. Professor McGonagall had seemed to him the type of person that would live forever, her will strong enough to kick Death out the door should he come knocking. He had not seen her in a few years so had not seen the deterioration of her body, eaten away by cancer.
There were a few others in the room, a couple of distant relatives, a representative from Hogwarts. He was the only one there who had known her at school. The bulk of her estate had been distributed among those relatives and Hogwarts. So far, his name had not been mentioned. He began to wonder why he was there at all. Finally, the lawyer turned to him.
"And to Mr. Harry Potter, I am entrusting him to deliver the final items in my possession to a certain family. Before undertaking this duty, he must make an unbreakable vow that he will not reveal the identity of this family to anyone, not his wife, and especially not to Ron Weasley. That boy could never keep a secret." The lawyer paused, looking over his spectacles at Harry Potter, with a look that said he wasn't sure if Harry Potter was trustworthy. "If he is not willing to make this vow, the next person on the list will be asked to deliver the items."
Harry's mind was whirling, his curiosity galloping towards agreement. Who was this family and what made their identity so dangerous that it must be kept secret?
"I will do it."
"Well then, you will make the vow with the representative from Hogwarts." At Harry's look, the lawyer explained, "I am what you call a muggle but my wife is a witch. Many in the magic community use my services."
Harry took hold of the arm of the other man. One of the distant relatives stepped forward with a wand. "Will you, Harry Potter, promise to deliver the items bequeathed by Minvera McGonagall to the family mentioned in the letter?"
"I will." As he uttered these words, he felt his arm tingle as tongues of flame licked around their clasped hands.
"And will you, Harry Potter, promise to keep the identity of this family a secret from all, unless they choose to reveal themselves, until your death day?"
"I will." This time, instead of a tingle, a sharp pain snaked its way up his arm.
"Wonderful," said the lawyer. "Here are the instructions containing the identity and the address of the family."
He was handed a sealed envelope. A sliver of smoke escaped when he opened the envelope. Even more improbable than the death of Professor McGonagall was the identity of the recipients of the bequest. He was alive, and, as incredible as it seemed, he had a family.