Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story (more's the pity--they could help pay my student loans) except for Eve Berger. Nor did I come up with the plot of PoA, and the scenes and dialogue included in that fab book, which I humbly reproduce at certain points herein. All that belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, Raincoast, Scholastic...the list goes on!

See Author's Notes at the very bottom.

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Epilogue: An End and a Beginning

Four Years Later

Eve woke with the sun as it crept over the mountains that surrounded Hogwarts. Erik lay curled up next to her, purring contentedly as he slept, paws twitching every so often as he dreamed. She could see her trunk by the door to her room; packed, and ready to be brought down to the carriages that would take them to the Hogwarts Express for the last time.

This entire year had been one of "lasts": her last Halloween and Christmas at Hogwarts, the last time she would watch the snow fall from outside her windows, the last time she would take exams, the last time she would sit in a classroom. Now this was the very last morning she would spend in her room, her last night in her four-poster bed now finished. A few hours from now she would step on board the Hogwarts Express and head back to London for the last time, as a student at least.

Dumbledore had told her a couple months before that her term as teacher did not have to be served immediately, particularly considering there were other places which she would be more needed, with war news becoming darker every day. After Hogwarts she was heading into a position in the Muggle Relations department of the Ministry of Magic. She would have her own apartment once again, be able to start her own life again, but this time as a fully-fledged witch. "Besides, it will give you a valuable chance to spread your wings a little, be independent," he'd said.

The change was a little bittersweet, though. She knew she would miss Hogwarts greatly, would miss her little room, miss meals in the Great Hall and evenings in the common room. After spend most of the last five years there, Hogwarts was home and though she would return, it would be as a teacher. It wouldn't be quite the same, though she had to consider the fact that it probably would be better. She'd fit in more then, her peers would be adults, instead of those nearly ten years her junior.

Still, that might be years away yet, and in the interim she would miss the castle and some of her teachers greatly; Dumbledore and McGonagall in particular. She would miss the others as well, though perhaps not Snape. While they had built up a mutual trust over the years, it was built more out of necessity than anything near friendship. She had to admit, though, that he had helped her. She had a better-than-average grasp of potions, thanks to his exacting methods, even if she'd had to endure his less-than-attractive personality to gain it. And she had some respect for him, if not for his teaching methods. After her discovery of his past in first year, it was not a surprise to her when Snape disappeared sometimes for a day or two after You-Know-Who's return. She didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to have an idea where he had gone, and why he sometimes looked drawn or weary upon his return. Naturally she had never asked him and he had never let anything slip, but she had that strong suspicion just the same. She had to give him some respect for what he was doing in the war, if her guess was true. It was rather public that some of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's other followers had not returned to him, as they had soon disappeared or been found murdered, the Dark Mark floating above them. But Snape apparently had returned, and she could only assume was still spying for Dumbledore. That deserved some respect at least.

Thinking of her teachers, she glanced over at the bag beside her door. She should take those to the Owlery soon if she wanted them delivered at breakfast.

She slipped out of her bed and dressed, hurrying quietly out of Gryffindor Tower and up to the Owlery, luckily not running into either Filch of Mrs. Norris. Not that there was much Filch could do, considering she would be leaving in just a few hours' time, but she'd prefer not to have her last day get off to such a bad start.

After delivering her packages, she headed out into the grounds, taking one last walk before breakfast. She wanted to be able to relax in the few hours she would have between breakfast and the train's departure.

She was heading back when she checked her watch, noticing that breakfast would be starting, and picked up her pace. She didn't want to be late and miss seeing her surprises for the teachers, not after all the time they had taken to prepare.

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Breakfast was a quiet affair, quite mercifully so for some of the staff after the previous night's overindulgence. Snape had to hide a smile, looking around at his fellow teachers. McGonagall, Hooch and Sinistra were all looking somewhat green about the gills, pushing the food around their plates. And here he was without any hangover remedy made up...

It was hard for him not to smile. Another school year was over, and he was free to spend his days as he liked, for the most part. Research, reading, all without the distraction of hundreds of brats scurrying about. Even better, it was the last day at Hogwarts for those in Potter's year. Never had he been happier to see three students leave than he was with Potter, Weasley and Granger. No Potter next September! It was almost worth looking forward to. Only the thought of what deeds the Dark Lord could think up could spoil Snape's mood.

He had just helped himself to more bacon when the rushing of wings made him look up. Usually there was little mail being delivered on the last day, as there was little point in sending something to students. These owls, however, appeared to be heading straight for the teachers' table, each bearing a package.

Much to his surprise, one of the packages was dropped on his plate, "Prof. S. Snape" written neatly on top of a long, thin box wrapped in brown paper.

The other teachers were already unwrapping theirs and he paused a moment, waiting to see why they received. All the packages were different sizes but at least he could have some hint.

Hagrid was the first to get his open, his great booming laugh filling the hall as he read the card that accompanied it aloud. "It's not a real one, but it'll have to do!" he said, pulling what looked like a stuffed toy dragon out of the box.

One down from Snape, Dumbledore was letting out a pleased "Ah!", as he removed a pair of thick, woollen socks. He glanced down to the Gryffindor table, and Snape followed his gaze. Eve Berger was casting quick glances at the head table, trying to look as though she wasn't watching their every move but failing miserably of course. That explains it. Gryffindor chivalry. Snape had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. His chain of thought was broken as McGonagall hit him with one end of her present: a tartan scarf, hand-knitted by the look of it.

Snape took a look at his package, wondering what the hell Berger could have given him, or why. He'd best get it over with, though. He would have much preferred to open his package in the privacy of his office, but the teachers would have nagged him otherwise, and he didn't feel like cutting breakfast short. He'd best open it while the attention was on the other teachers.

Slitting open the wrapping, he lifted the lid of the box to find a card placed on top of tissue paper. The message was brief: "Much thanks for everything, from Eve Berger."

Nestled in the tissue paper was a pair of thin, woollen gloves, the fingers ending at the first knuckle. Black, of course. Obviously designed to provide warmth but leave the fingertips exposed for greater dexterity. A practical gift, which he had to admit seemed fitting. He'd never have admitted it in a thousand years but it was a rather welcome gift as well. Working in the dungeons was a cold task in midwinter, and sometimes he'd felt as though his fingers were going to drop off, they were so numb.

Snape stuck them back in the box, not checking the fit until he was safely back in his office. They fit perfectly, nicely protecting the spots where his hands were becoming chafed by his somewhat ill-fitting dragonhide gloves. Had she noticed? He didn't credit her with being that observant. And after five years of teaching her, he doubted that he gave her too little credit.

Tucking the gift into a desk drawer, Snape left his office once more, deciding that it was too nice a day to spend indoors. Besides, he wouldn't miss the pleasure of seeing the students leave for anything in the world.

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Eve had precious little time left to enjoy Hogwarts, and so spent her last few hours relaxing by the lake, her rucksack beside her. She would make one last trip up to her room to fetch Erik, and that would be it. Goodbye, Hogwarts.

She was staring meditatively at the mountains across the lake when a shadow fell over her. Looking up, all she could make out was a black pillar. Even with the sun in her eyes she could tell it was Snape; no one else wore so much black clothing on a hot, sunny day, or had that same ramrod-straight posture.

"Your N.E.W.T.s have already gone into the Ministry for grading," he said coolly. She wasn't surprised at all by the lack of a greeting. She could count the number of times he'd said "hello" to her on one hand. Even when he did use a normal greeting, it was spoken with so much sarcasm that it could hardly be called an act of politeness.

"I know, that's why I had the packages delivered this morning," she replied. She made an attempt to shade her eyes so she could see his expression, but it was useless. To block the sun from her eyes, she had to block her view of his face with her hand. She'd just have to squint.

"How did you find the proper size?"

She could feel herself blush slightly and gave a small, sly smile. "I asked the house elves to let me know when they were washing your dragonhide gloves. The next time they did so, I traced an outline of the gloves and took my measurements from that." She was expecting some comment about her invasion of his privacy or some such thing, but it never came.

"That was rather...cunning of you," he said wryly.

Eve decided to go for broke. It was her last day, after all. "Rather Slytherin, in a way."

There was a slight pause before Snape replied. "Indeed. Good day, Miss Berger," and he swept away, his robes rippling in the breeze.

If she hadn't known better, she would have thought she'd heard a hint of amusement in his tone. But Snape? Amused? Never.

Still, she couldn't help but smile at the thought as she gathered her few things for the train home and took what would be her last look at Hogwarts; for now, at least.

THE END

A/N: Well, that's it, for this book at least. Yes, I do have a second part in the works, but it will be a while before I start posting it. At the very least I'm waiting until "Order of the Phoenix" comes out before posting, so I can incorporate any useful tidbits it has to offer (which it bloody well better, about Snape at least!)

I'd just like to give a most heartfelt thanks to my beta readers, Taryn and Joan, as well as to all those who have reviewed my fic--both positive and negative reviews. I haven't been able to reply to your comments individually, as I've had little time to spend on the internet over the past year, but I have always greatly looked forward to each review, and read everyone's comments with much interest. Hopefully I'll have some time to respond to those reviews already posted, now that I'm finished the course that ate up so much of my time (and my short-term memory, and my sanity...). Again, thank you. You have made this such a rewarding experience, particularly as this is definitely the longest story (and the most involved) I've ever written, and one of the few that I actually manage to finish!

Thank you everyone, and see you in a couple months!