A/N: Thank you for all your kind reviews, I hope this reply-message-thingy worked. :-)
If you go to my profile page you will find a new link to "my forums". There you can ask questions on my stories you'd like to see answered by me, or just engage in general discussion. If you feel like, please have a look.
My sincere gratitude goes, as always, to the kind people who helped me with this fic – Persephone Lupin for betaing the original story, Ermione for invaluable help on getting it finished (many ideas in the final three chapters are from her!), and certainly lovely lucidity for wrestling down my English bloopers. Remus' appearance in this chapter is for you, my dear!
Only one last chapter to go, which will be posted soon. Enjoy :-)
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Decorations
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"Take a seat, Severus," said Minerva McGonagall, and drew back one of the chairs at her living-room table. Snape slowly lowered himself on the chair, while the Gryffindor vanished the tartan-pattered decorative table covering and replaced it with an unobtrusive one. With another flick of her wand plates and glasses appeared, and another one conjured a platter filled with canapés and a jug of light herbal lemonade.
"Please," the elderly witch gestured, "help yourself."
Snape nodded and reached out for a canapé. "Thank you for the invitation, Minerva."
"My pleasure," answered McGonagall. "It's been too long anyway that we met outside of school- or order duty."
The Slytherin cast a side-glance at his colleague. "This memorial tonight…"
"Yes," she nodded and poured two glasses. "The Ministry delegation will arrive at six, and the event will start at seven."
"Ministry delegation?"
The Gryffindor nodded smiling. "Well, delegation is maybe slightly exaggerated – Arthur and Remus will come. And Molly might as well," she added.
Snape sneered. Over the last months the Ministry politics had changed perceptibly. Even if his department hadn't gained much ground in reputation, Arthur Weasley at least gotten an aide and a pay rise. And since public service obviously had learned its lesson after the disaster with the giants, the Ministry unceremoniously established a new department for the relations to vampires, werewolves and similar creatures.
"Isn't Lupin employed in this new Ministry department now?"
"Severus," McGonagall answered somewhat rebukingly. "Remus is head of the department."
"Which wouldn't have been that difficult to achieve, would it?" Snape stated sneeringly. "Given the fact that this department consists of only one employee."
However – despite the derision the Slytherin regarded these new circumstances as anything but unfavourable. As long as the werewolf had a job, the danger that the Headmaster would be haunted by another whim of generosity and employ him at Hogwarts was reduced to a minimum. With a satisfied smirk he reached out and took another canapé.
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Snape stood in front of his bedroom mirror and pensively examined the still too gaunt face of his reflection. The scar on his forehead was clearly visible on the sallow skin. A medal… He snorted disdainfully while adjusting the collar of his in silver and emerald green bordered black dress robes. Almost as if he had waited for it a soft knock sounded from the door. Sighing quietly he turned and moved towards the entrance.
As he opened the door, he was surprised to look into the face of Arthur Weasley. Arthur's former imperturbably sunny disposition had obviously received a scratch or two as well, since his smile died as his gaze graced Snape's body. The loss of his son Charlie was not as long ago as the memory could have faded yet.
"Arthur," Snape greeted him seriously and thus pulled back Arthur's thoughts to the present, obviously, since he bobbed his head and looked into the Potions Master's face.
"Severus," he said, while forcing a smile.
With a brief nod Snape gestured for him to enter.
"I see you don't need the wheelchair anymore? That's good," Arthur said, after he had stepped over the threshold. "I just came to give you something which might interest you. Molly and Remus are waiting in the entrance hall for me – and for you too," he added.
Although Snape was relieved that Arthur spared him the usual platitudes about his condition, he nevertheless raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Yes, for you," Arthur repeated, smiling and patting him on the shoulder. "But before we go I have something for you which you might want to take a look at." He produced a thick envelope from under his travelling cloak.
"What is it?" the Potions Master asked. "Shall I open it right away? Is it important?"
Arthur shook his head. "Read it in peace afterwards, it's not urgent. It's for you personally anyway."
"Very well. Please put it on the table in the living room."
"You have nice chambers here," Arthur said, sounding somewhat surprised, as he came back to the entrance, where Snape waited at the open door.
"What did you expect?" said Snape, as he stepped out into the corridor. "A mouldy torture chamber?"
The reddish flush that spread over Arthur's ears and his sheepish expression told the Slytherin that he wasn't that far off with his guess. Automaticly a corner of his mouth curled upwards.
"Let us go," he said. "I'm afraid that I cannot move that fast any longer, and we wouldn't want to keep the others waiting, now would we?"
Arthur cast him a concerned look, but the warning expressions on the Potions Master's face made his already opened mouth close on the spot.
"I am alright," Snape said curtly. "Let's go."
Together they ascended the chairs to the ground floor, where they saw Molly and Lupin waiting on the other side of the entrance hall. When Molly noticed them she waved and approached them, while Lupin followed behind her.
"Severus," she greeted him cordially. "How good to see you!"
Molly Weasley was one of the very few people from whom Snape accepted a declaration like this as coming from the heart. And Molly Weasley was also one of the very few people who could force out a smile from him.
"Good evening, Molly," he said. Molly smiled at him and looked him over from head to toe. Molly Weasley also managed on a regular basis to make him feel like a teenage schoolboy in her presence.
"You look very nice," she stated, but her jovial expression couldn't hide the traces either, which the last months of war and the death of her son had drawn.
"Thank you," answered Snape when his gaze fell upon Lupin, who was standing behind Molly.
"Severus," said Lupin. "How are you?"
Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Excellent, Lupin," he answered. "I heard that you have found employment after all? I hope the Ministry pays well for the first-hand experience you provide?"
"Don't tell me you bothered yourself with thoughts on my financial well-being, Severus," Lupin smiled.
Narrowing his eyes, the Slytherin examined the lycanthrope. His robes were new and fashionable, and he seemed healthier than he had been for years. A comfortable sensation over these realisations spread in Snape's body, leaving him relieved. "Well, one gives a thought here and there, doesn't one? I see that you now dress yourself according to your representative position…"
"The Minister is still with Albus," interrupted Molly the burgeoning tension. "They should arrive any moment. Why don't we just go in and have a seat in the meantime?"
Since the crowds of students pouring into the Great Hall had increased significantly as well, nobody objected. The Hall was decorated festively in all four house colours, and the teachers' table at the end of the Hall had been expanded so that the guests could find their place there as well. As the group slowly made their way across the Hall, and passing the tables of the students, Snape noticed some snippets of agitated whispering on his left. A small group of Slytherins were sitting aloof on the other end of the table, engaged in discussion and gesticulating wildly. When they became aware of their Head of House's stern look the conversation died out instantly. However, Snape realised that they didn't even bother to hide the frowns in his direction. His expression hardened…
"Well, Professor Snape? In proper festive mood and prepared to receive the glory?"
Kingsley's voice from behind made Snape startle. He stopped and slowly turned around. The Ravenclaw approached with quick paces, the billowing midnight-blue dress robe adding an unobtrusive but dignified elegance to his tall figure. When he saw Snape's frown his smile died.
"What's the matter?" he asked concernedly.
The Potions Master didn't answer but just nodded inconspicuously in the direction of the Slytherin table.
"Oh," commented Kingsley quietly, biting his lower lip. Snape gave him a telling glance and shook his head.
"Let's sit down," he said, turning to the teachers' table where most of the seats were already occupied and where Molly, Arthur and Lupin already sat too. Only their seats and the two for the Headmaster and the Minister in the middle were still free.
"Look, there are even little cards with our names," Kingsley said smiling, while he greeted friends and colleagues on both sides. He waited until Snape had settled down and then stowed away the crutches.
"What… are you hurt?" he asked concerned as he noticed the Potions Master's bandaged hand.
Not again…, Snape sighed inwardly. "Not to worry, Kingsley," he answered quietly. "It's nothing serious, just a minor burn."
Kingsley furrowed his brow and apparently wanted to ask further, but the Potions Master graced him with a warning frown. "Later," he growled, hoping that Kingsley would have forgotten the question until then and he would not be forced to reveal his clumsiness once again.
Snape let his gaze sweep over the Great Hall, thinking by himself that this festivity effectively left him relatively cold. Even if he was never a big friend of suchlike events – not so long ago he would have felt deep personal satisfaction at least at the prospect of being decorated. However, now all the fuss around seemed more like an unnecessary requirement to him. For a brief moment he even caught himself longing to have endured all this and be back in his quarters. He looked back to his house's table. There were much more pressing problems currently pending than decorations or memorial services…
The noise level dropped as finally Albus Dumbledore and the new Minister entered the Great Hall. The new Minister of Magic was an example for the aimed at and pushed through "restart" within the magical world: Honfridus Quixwood was a long serving Ministry functionary – competent but always acting in the background. Important decisions had often bore signs of his style, but he had always dissembled any hints of his personal political preference. He was a Hufflepuff and an unknown quantity in public – thus making him the perfect interim candidate for the job. Snape knew that especially Albus Dumbledore stuck up for him and he saw the logic in that decision. The Minister nodded politely but somewhat reserved to all sides, while the Headmaster raised his hand and the noise in the Hall faded away.
"Dear students and colleagues, honoured guests," Dumbledore began his speech with an unusually serious voice, and all eyes turned to the teachers' table.
Apparently, the Headmaster had bowdlerised his speech all unnecessary melodramatic cants. Still, Snape noticed Kingsley by his side fighting to contain his emotions. He knew that the Ravenclaw still mourned for his former Head of House, and even he was touched by the thought of Hagrid, Flitwick and all the other victims of the war.
"…a minute of silent commemoration." Dumbledore paused for the attendees to rise for a minute's silence. Snape pressed his lips together. The utterly profane problem of the situation abruptly brought his musings back to reality, since the crutches were leaned against the wall and out of inconspicuous reach. While he still considered how to master the situation as discreetly as possible low whispering and murmur became perceptible. The Slytherin rose his head and his gaze fell on …his house's table! He narrowed his eyes as he saw that the small group around MacKinnock on the table's end had remained seated with ostentation and glared at the teachers' table defiantly.
The whispering became louder, and Snape realised that more and more eyes turned into his direction. Inhaling sharply through his nose he answered his students' improper behaviour with a deep frown.
"Kingsley," he said lowly. Fortunately the Ravenclaw realised the problem and secretly lent him his arm to help him rise. Snape definitely didn't want to further feed public agitation by not rising either. The mutinous Slytherins, however, remained seated.
After the minute had passed the Headmaster flicked his wand to unveil a simple commemorative plaque and then let the Minister have the floor while everybody sat down again.
Now come the decorations, Snape thought, a corner of his mouth twitching. He cast Kingsley a side-glance who tensed his shoulders and smiled back. The Minister recalled Harry Potter's accomplishments first, which caused a similar racket from the students like at the welcome feast. He then called the members of the teachers' staff who would be receiving a decoration in alphabetical order. A stoic expression plastered on his face, Snape followed the ceremony until the letter "S".
"Professor Kingsley Shacklebolt," said the Minister and Kingsley rose. It wasn't the first decoration the former Auror received, but it was the highest, and Kingsley accepted the medal with appropriate respect.
"Master of Potions and Head of Slytherin House, Professor Severus Snape," the Minister turned to Snape. Kingsley handed him the crutches and he stood up. Clearing his throat the minister opened a little dark box in which a medal on triangular ribbon lay on a small velvet cushion.
"Professor Snape, it is my honour to bestow upon you the Order of Merlin, First Class," he said, taking the medal out of the box, "in gratitude for your contribution to the final defeat of Lord Voldemort, and as a recognition for the personal sacrifices you had to make in the course of it."
Snape had to force himself not to grimace at this declaration. Still – when the minister finally pinned the medal to his robe and then put forth his hand, he felt a tinge of satisfaction rise.
"Thank you, Professor," the Minister said, shaking his hand. "I wish you all the best."
After a slight bow of his head Snape slowly sat back down while the Minister turned around for the next award.
"Head of Hufflepuff House, Professor Pomona Sprout…"
That was it then. Now he finally got his decoration. Somewhat covertly he looked down his chest and glanced at the silvery gleaming medal when a soft chuckle to his left caught his attention.
"So you are pleased after all," whispered Kingsley grinning and gave him a wink.
A nearly imperceptible smile played around the Slytherin's lips. "It seems appropriate," he answered lowly, while Pomona Sprout got the final medal pinned to her chest.
After the Minister had taken his place again Dumbledore announced the end of the ceremony, and a few moments later all tables sagged because of the load of appearing food.
During the feast the Headmaster approached Snape and laid his hand on his shoulder from behind.
"Severus," he said. "Please come to my office tomorrow morning. I would like to discuss something with you."
Arching an inquiring eyebrow Snape looked at Dumbledore, but the Headmaster shook his head.
"Not now," Dumbledore answered, smiling impishly. "Have you tried the roast beef? It's remarkably delicious," he said before he turned and left a confused Snape to himself and his dinner.
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A/N: In case you wondered – I will leave the internal conflict in Slytherin House unresolved - at least in this fic. I believe that a civil war (and this war here is nothing else) is one of the most traumatising thing a society could possibly experience, and thus cannot be solved quickly – not even by Snape ;-). It needs several generations to "get back to normal" as we see in reality as well. I've been thinking of (the internal aspects of) WW2 and the years afterwards in Central Europe, and of the Chinese Cultural Revolution – both conflicts have been decades ago, but still linger within society to a certain extent. Only time will finally heal all wounds.
The "Epilogue" will follow soon. :-)