What happened next?
It was in all the news: Harry Potter Kills Voldemort. Again.
The Daily Prophet held front-page articles for nearly a week until they had milked it as much as they could, and while most of the details were incorrect, it made for exciting reading. The Quibbler had a whole paragraph on it in the middle of a fluff piece on Parselmouths through the ages, asserting inanely that Merlin's daughter could speak to rabbits.
Children grouped around radios, listening as everyone and their mother explained how it had been possible for You Know Who to survive before. Horcruxes were mentioned, and a public announcement was made not to touch any if found. The school provided educational leaflets on the subject (my idea) with suitable gory pictures of rotting limbs (Snape's idea).
The Slytherins staged a mini-revolt.
To the last man, they sat down in the great hall one breakfast and refused to go to class.
Apparently they were quite insulted at Percy being my nanny when any one of them should have been Snape's first choice, heck, even Malfoy. They furthermore lamented the fact that I had been in Gryffindor tower twice already, when I hadn't stepped a foot in their dungeon yet, and even the Quidditch team set their brooms down, refusing to fly until the situation was rectified.
Minerva walked off laughing, leaving it up to Severus to manage his wayward flock.
Severus was building up reserves of patience, dealing with me. He dipped into these to explain to them that they probably did not have enough candy to satisfy me, and that I would walk all over them and their soft little hearts. He furthermore feared he'd leave me in the Snake Den one minute, only to find me traipsing about in the Forbidden Forest the next, off gamboling with the unicorns, happily playing the virgin sacrifice. I saw quite a few astonished faces here, a few kids mouthing 'What?' to each other. Someone wondered in a stage whisper if they should be counting Snape's mushrooms.
They finally agreed to share me with Percy, folding quickly when Snape's patience ran out, evidenced by his dark glare promising hard times for the next Slytherin that spoke up in dissent.
The issue resolved, he proceeded to give the whole lot of them detention with Hagrid, the entire Slytherin house, and took away one point. It was bedlam! Never had there been such noise in the Great Hall!
We had started a Sunday routine where all four of us would gather in my former office to go over what needed to be done during the week. Whether about Hogwarts or the Wizengamot, all was discussed in case anyone needed to stand in for the others.
Poppy and Minerva easily knew more than I did about everything pertaining to my former life. I played but a small part in their conversations, not wanting to show my ignorance, but none of them seemed to mind and usually let me be. Truth be told I came for the cookies.
"I am considering bringing Lupin in for the Defence position," Minerva said one afternoon over tea.
Severus turned red. He placed the fragile porcelain teacup with utmost care back in its saucer, and hissed: "Over my dead body."
"You've been complaining non-stop about Alastor filling in, I thought you would be happy to see him go," Minerva said, sounding unperturbed.
"Anyone would be better than that—that—" at a loss for words he jumped up, swaying on his feet, his face a dark, ugly colour. "If Lupin comes, I will leave. The very day he steps foot in this castle!"
"We will not bring Lupin," I said, setting my cookie down. This needed adult me.
"Oh?" Minerva raised her chin, a strange triomphant glint in her eyes. "You've not been taking any interest in school matters, Albus, why now?"
"You know why, Minerva. I am still the Headmaster here. If needs be I'll tell the world I de-aged myself and take it up again. Offer the position to Alastor. The students love him, and Severus will stop moaning about the very air he breathes."
"I do not moan," Severus objected, slowly gathering his wits. He seemed to realise he was the only one standing and sat back down in a huff.
"Complaining, then. Face it, Da-Severus, yesterday I spent the whole day fishing unsupervised on the lake, and yet when you found me your first words were what?"
"Did you want me to scold you?"
"Of course not! I wanted you to admire the fish I caught. I did not want to hear about Moody taking unnecessary points from your favourite Hufflepuff. Since when do you even have a favourite Hufflepuff?"
"You two used to be friends! It is only a matter of time before Alastor realises who you are!"
Oh for fuck's sake. So that was the reason? For the last two months I had thought he might be harbouring romantic feelings for the scarred Auror. Just the day before, I had discussed it with Minerva, trying to figure a way to get the two wizards to kiss and make up. Most of the aggravation had been coming from Severus, though, as Moody seemed to actually like being a teacher and was trying to fit in. I glanced at Minerva, and saw her sit back with a self-satisfied smile.
"Then so be it," I told Severus. "I can tell him right now if you are worried about that. He will keep our secrets."
"How can you be so sure!"
"I am."
Moody stayed. I was not much impressed with Minerva's shitty machinations and made sure she knew it, for once being the scolder and not the scoldee.
I watched Severus carefully for any signs of jealousy over the lost post, but he seemed to pay it no mind. He was slaving over the antidote to The Potion every free moment, day and night.
Yes, my potion.
In our own little private debriefing session, I admitted to stealing the map from the Weasley twins and explained how it worked. That part where you tap the parchment with your wand and solemnly swear that you're up to no good? Severus had a brainwave and found that dear old Albus had copied it. Hidden underneath the Lemon Curd recipe was a potion formula in elegant calligraphy, much like my own that I had practiced for ages in middle school. It honestly kept surprising me how much the old fool and I had in common.
It was Dumbledore's version of the Elixir of Life.
From the notes at the back, it seemed he (me) tried to modify it to account for the Flamel couple's arthritis. It transpired from a Floo call with Mr. Flamel that being old forever was not all that great. We kept my existence a secret from him, as according to Minerva, the three of them knowing was already dangerous enough. I wholeheartedly agreed.
I reluctantly dug up the Philosopher's stone from deep inside the couch, dusted off some fluff and handed it over to a gobsmacked Snape.
"What the bloody blazes were all the traps for, Albus?"
Fuck if I knew. "I like to keep you on your toes?"
He didn't talk to me until dinner.
Poppy explained that I didn't have much time before the antidote would be worthless. They had deduced this from the fact that I seemed to regress to childlike behavior—I did not!—and at times showed large 'memory lapses'.
"Do you want to be an old man with a child's mind?" she asked.
Severus raised both eyebrows to high heaven. "He wasn't already?"
"Now, Severus…" Minerva rebuked him half-heartedly.
No matter how they insisted, I didn't tell them about the still missing Fawkes and my own little additions. Whenever Snape asked for any details, I just pressed my lips together, stuck my fingers childishly in my ears, sang 'na-na-na', and he would soon walk off, throwing his hands in the air.
Did I really want to be an old man again? I was going to have to sort that issue soon.
After I wrote Ginny about my vision of a 'Ratman' leaning over Ron's bed, they found Pettigrew and exonerated Black. Black, who was understandably raving like a lunatic, having had his mind and soul tortured for over a decade, was sent to St Mungo's Hospital for therapy on Minerva/Dumbledore's suggestion.
The day he was released, Severus stood me on the desk in his private study to be at eye level with him and bowed his head down, pointing a yarrow stained finger to his hair. It was rarely free from potions' grease those days, but that was not what he wanted me to see.
"Look at that, Albus. That grey hair has your name on it."
Minerva burned the map. Then vanished the ashes.
Severus was quite incensed. "How will I find Albus the next time he gets it into his damned head to wander off?!"
"Ask Molly Weasley to make you a clock."
Severus kept the cloak but hid it. "You can have it back when you turn 18 or 80, whichever one comes first."
I stomped a foot. "Then I'll just wait for another sale and buy a new one!"
"Yes? Thank you for the warning."
Fuckit.
I never made friends with Hagrid or his dog.
Oh, at one point I did kick Fred for telling Ginny that Severus was horrid, but was immediately sorry, as Percy made me stand in a corner and apologize. (I have never seen Snape laugh so hard in my life.)
The Very End.
Really.
XOXO
Ps. I stayed a child.
In the end the wizarding world did learn that I had aged myself down. (How? Rita Skeeter bugged us.) By then I was truly cemented in everyone's mind as Albus Snape, perpetual scamp and inveterate fool, thus a good amount of the population thought it might be a hoax. Those that believed it did not care. It was not as if I had gained immortality. No one was interested in going through the horrors of childhood again, least of all puberty!
A/N: Thanks for reading!
2nd in the series is out. I am Albus Snape.