Dumbledore:

"Look at that one!" Mathew Rosamond exclaimed excitedly at a portrait of a man mounted atop a hippogriff.

"It is rude to point," The painting reprimanded.

"Sorry," Mathew muttered. He swung around to look at Rose. "What is that creature? Is it real?"

"That's a hippogriff," Rose answered kindly. "And yes, they're real."

Both Rose's parents eagerly looked around them, hungrily taking in every bit of the school they possibly could. Ephraim and Esme led the group, proudly pointing out and explaining things to their grandparents about the castle.

Severus and Rose trailed behind them. Rose watched their older children with amusement while cradling a sleeping Eileen in her arms. "Someday, Eileen, this will be your school too," Rose whispered to the baby.

Severus walked wearily beside his wife. After three quarters of an hour touring, he was beginning to impatiently anticipate the peace and quiet of his dungeon classroom. He truly did need to work.

"We should show you a hippogriff," Ephraim told his grandfather. "A live one! I bet Hagrid would be willing to show us one. And if Neville is here, we can go into the greenhouses."

"Yeah!" Esme cheered, grabbing her grandmother's hand and began pulling her in the direction of the grounds.

"Not so quick," Severus warned his children, holding out his arm to stop Esme. "Make sure you are not disrupting anyone's work."

"We won't," Ephraim said. "It couldn't hurt to ask."

"Use your discretion," Severus told Ephraim. He shook his head slightly. "Keep your sister away from the Whomping Willow and if Hagrid offers to let either of you ride a hippogriff, you say no."

Ephraim grinned at his father. "Yes, sir," he said.

Severus briefly squeezed Ephraim's shoulder. "You are to come down to my classroom in two hours," he said, looking from Ephraim to Esme.

"Rose are you coming?" Cora asked quickly as her grandchildren began shepherding them away.

Rose opened her mouth to reply but Severus cut across her.

"Rose and the baby will be coming with me," Severus said firmly.

Rose was going to say she would go with Severus anyway. She immediately looked sour about being told what to do.

Severus sighed. "Rose will you please join me in my classroom," he said a little briskly.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yes," she agreed.

"Okay then," Ephraim said quickly, nodding at Esme before they hurried their grandparents along onto the grounds.

"I want you to rest," Severus told her sternly.

Rose sighed. "When will you be convinced that I'm-"

"No," Severus interjected, putting his finger to her lips. "Don't you dare say it," he said facetiously. He lowered his hand from her lips and replaced it with a quick kiss. "Give me a few weeks and maybe you'll convince me."

"A few weeks!" Rose exclaimed.

Severus smirked. "Come on," he said, leading her with a gentle pressure on the curve of her lower back.

Once in Severus's dungeon classroom, Severus instructed Rose to make herself comfortable in his desk chair while he swooped around the room, readying workspaces, and taking inventory of ingredients. Rose watched her husband quietly. He was extremely focused as he worked. His eyes narrowed slightly as he read down a long list of potion ingredients, his wand effortlessly moving around him, vials and jars arranging themselves in different orders on the shelves.

Rose had never seen anyone perform magic like Severus. Everything Severus did was so precise and deliberate. That showed in his magic. His fluidity made his wand work look like a sort of elegant dance, amazingly beautiful. He was amazingly beautiful, perhaps not apparent to the untrained eye, but he was to Rose.

His slim and lengthy frames stood erect as he moved around his classroom, in his element. His dark, shoulder-length hair fell forward as he read, framing his pale face made luminescent by the candlelight. He looked up suddenly and turned to Rose. His normally austere, angular features became softer as his dark eyes gazed upon her.

Rose smiled at him.

"Are you watching me?" he asked her.

"I am," Rose replied. "What else am I to do?"

Severus shrugged slightly. "You could read a book," he suggested.

Amusement danced behind Rose's eyes. "I can't admire my husband?"

Rose would often say little remarks like this or even go as far as calling Severus handsome. In response, Severus's immediate reaction was to look indignant as if he was being teased and then embarrassed when he remembered that Rose was dead serious. She loved him, he knew she did, but it always seemed to surprise him when she was affectionate.

Rose laughed lightly at him as his pale face became slightly flushed. "You're very sweet," she told him gently.

"Yes," he said drily, turning to his potion ingredients again, "that is what everyone says about me."

Rose laughed again, this time waking Eileen. She began to cry.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby," Rose soothed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Severus couldn't say for sure, but it seemed that Eileen cried more than Esme ever did. He never quite knew what to do with them when they cried. It wasn't like they could tell him what they needed. Rose always seemed to know, though. Unsurprisingly, she was a patient and loving mother. Severus had never thought he would be a father; he certainly did not think he would have had an infant at the age of 46, but that was the result of marrying a woman more than a decade his junior.

"I'll walk with her in the corridor for a while," Rose said knowingly, standing up. "So you can focus."

"Do you mind?" Severus said, relieved.

"Of course not," Rose said, slipping out the door.

She gently bounced Eileen in her arms and immediately she started to calm down. "Papa is trying to work," Rose said to the baby. "There has been a lot of commotion lately," she continued. "I know we love grandma and grandpa, but I suspect you will be much happier when you don't have everyone's hands on you all the time. I think Papa is looking forward to having our house back too. But don't tell your grandparents any of this." Rose kissed the top of Eileen's head. "It's just that you are so cute, everyone wants a piece of you. But I just want you all to myself. Sometimes I don't even like sharing you with Papa."

There was a soft chuckle behind Rose. She turned towards it. Standing in a previously empty frame was an old wizard with silver hair and beard that was long enough to tuck under his belt. The man had bright blue eyes and he peered at Rose from atop his half-moon spectacle.

"Oh," Rose said with surprise. She had been to the castle countless times and never had she seen the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. She knew that his frame must hang in the headmistress's office with all the past headmasters and headmistresses as Severus had told her. But Dumbledore appeared not to venture from his frame often, at least when Rose was present.

"Good afternoon," the painting greeted her.

"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore," Rose said with cool politeness. She shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "I'm Rose Snape." Rose gestured behind her at the potions classroom. "I'm-"

"Severus's wife," Dumbledore finished. "Yes, I know. You and Professor Snape made quite the nice topic of gossip only short years ago. I've heard much about you."

"Yeah," Rose said bitterly. "Luckily everyone has seemed to become bored of us."

"I don't know," Dumbledore mused. "I for one have been very interested to make your acquaintance."

Rose did not know what to make of the portrait's comment. She wanted to ask 'why' but realized she didn't really care to know the preconception of her character from a painting. She decided to keep quiet.

Dumbledore did not explain further. "And who is this little one?" he asked, looking down at Eileen.

Rose adjusted Eileen slightly in her arms for the painting to see better. "This is Eileen," Rose said.

Dumbledore smiled down at the little baby. She looked right back at him, curiously. "She is your third child."

It wasn't a question. "Yes," Rose answered anyway.

Dumbledore seemed utterly delighted by the infant. "She will grow to resemble the first Eileen Snape, I believe."

"Yes," Rose replied again. "I mean, I don't know what Severus's mother looked like, but I imagine that Severus must take after her because he doesn't look much like his father, except for his eyes." She didn't know why she was telling this to the portrait of Dumbledore.

"Eileen Prince was such a bright young woman yet she always appeared so sad," he said gravely, "and her life was too short. An unfortunate end that her son was spared from thanks to a very dedicated healer."

Rose wondered if the real Dumbledore made a habit of jumping from salutations straight to morbid topics. Severus did not often talk about his mother. The most Rose had ever heard about Eileen Prince-Snape was the night Rose had suggested that they call their daughter after her. Rose knew that Severus had a complicated relationship with his mother, who was unable to protect him or herself from Tobias. She had half expected Severus to dismiss the idea entirely, but to Rose's surprise, Severus had become very thoughtful, playing with the prospect in his mind. Perhaps if Rose had suggested the name before Esme's birth, Severus would have felt differently. Severus had taken Rose's hand and nodded once. "Will you tell me about her?" Rose had asked.

Severus told Rose how his mother used to come into his bedroom almost every night; it was always late and after Tobias had fallen asleep. Severus thought it was because she was so lonely sleeping beside her husband, but he would wait up for her and she would sit on the edge of the bed and stare out the window, her back to where Severus laid. She would talk into the night about the wizarding world and all the magical places that were her son's birth right. Severus never asked questions or spoke, knowing that his mother's stories were precious gifts. These were the only times that she would speak candidly. She wouldn't hold her son's hand but would rest her palm beside his so that their fingers brushed up against each other.

Rose liked the idea that Severus would have a little Eileen to love and protect.

"This Eileen will have a much different life than her grandmother had," Rose said defiantly. "Her father will personally see to it."

"Severus does have an uncommonly good ability to protect others," Dumbledore said with a small smile.

"He does," Rose said, a note of sadness in her tone. "He also has an uncommon tolerance for self-sacrifice in order to protect others."

She stared up at Dumbledore and he stared politely back at her.

"Do you often come see Severus down here?" she asked.

"I do like to visit now and again," Dumbledore said casually.

Rose pressed her lips together. "Is he receptive to your visits?" Rose asked.

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly as he looked at her. His blue eyes sparkled knowingly. "As I'm sure you know to a greater extent than I, Severus's reaction to others can vary from day to day."

This was true. Severus was always good to her and the children, but his ability to tolerate the company of others would wane with varying moods. Severus had good days where he was playful, and Rose could easily get him to smile and sometimes even laugh which was a rarity. Other days he would be sulky and quiet, lost in the past. Days like these, he would distance himself. Usually there was some sort of trigger leading to one of these days, some sort of reminder, a significant date, a conversation, a bad dream. Rose did her best to excuse this behavior because she knew where it stemmed. She did not like Dumbledore's portrait commenting on such things, however. "He has very good reason to behave the way he does," Rose said strongly.

"Indeed, he does," Dumbledore agreed somberly.

Rose narrowed her eyes at the painting. "It haunts him," she said coldly, "what you had him do." Rose figured that if this had been the real Dumbledore she wouldn't have been as brave to speak this way.

"I?" the portrait said with raised brows. "I am just a likeness of the late Albus Dumbledore."

"I know," Rose said somewhat embarrassed. "I guess I'm not as big a fan of yours- his as everyone else seems to be."

"Severus is a grown man with an independent will," Dumbledore said.

"He followed your orders not knowing where they would lead," Rose said in a defeated voice.

"You care for him deeply," Dumbledore said.

Again, it wasn't a question. "I do," Rose said. "What about you? Do you care for him at all? You must have suspected where he would end up. He could have died. He almost did. And it would have been a long, hard rode to get to death."

"Severus knew of the danger," Dumbledore said.

Severus would sometimes talk in his sleep. He would toss and turn and unconsciously pull at the ends of his hair. He would struggle against invisible binds. Once before shaking him awake, Rose heard Severus utter, the killing curse. Rose shuttered at the memory.

"He respected and trusted you," she said. Severus did not tell Rose of the times Dumbledore's portrait came to visit him. Rose could not say if this was a comfort to her husband. For the longest time, Dumbledore was the only one who knew Severus's true motives and the only person who knew his heart. Rose couldn't help but wonder if Severus had ever felt used by Dumbledore. Dumbledore knew Severus was driven by his love for Lily. Did Dumbledore use that to his advantage?

The portrait's piercing blue eyes surveyed Rose closely. She flinched slightly, feeling like she was being x-rayed. "I had hoped," Dumbledore began slowly, "that events would turn out better for Severus then I suspected them to be." He gave Rose a little nod. "I see that they have."

Rose's brows knit together, still unsure how she felt about the old man.

"When I heard that Severus had lived," Dumbledore said, "I could not say if that was what he would have chosen for himself. I do not believe he ever intended to make it to the end."

"You think he would prefer to be dead?" Rose said horrified.

"He had nothing left to live for," Dumbledore said in a straight tone. "What is life without love?" The portrait eyed Rose with that wise, knowing gaze. Rose felt like she was burning with a desperate desire to prove that Severus was not without love, she loved him, and she was sure that her whole body glowed with it. Dumbledore smiled at her. "Then he found you."

"Yes," Rose said determinedly.

"What a change I have seen in Severus Snape," Dumbledore told Rose. "You have given him a place in this world, something he's never had. Severus has been starved of a home and he has been searching for one his whole life. He was looking in all the wrong places, with the deatheater. Not even with little Lily Evans did Severus find his place. Then you came along. That night at the Hogwarts ball-"

"You were there?"

"Yes, dear girl, all the portraits rushed from their frames deep in the castle to cluster around the entrance hall and great hall. It was very cramped," he added. "Much to my surprise I saw Severus standing by the staircase. He kept looking towards the door. He had such a sour look on his face. He was so distraught that you had kept him waiting."

Rose smiled to herself. "I know he was. He didn't look happy to see me at all."

Dumbledore shook his head once. "When you walked into the room, and such a rapturous creature you were that night, I saw Severus look to you and it was like seeing a man take his first breath after being immersed in water."

Rose listened to the painting with wide eyes.

"This captured my attention of course. I did not know what to make of you. I inquired but none of the other portraits had seen you before. It wasn't until my dear friend, Professor Derwent informed me that you were a promising young healer at St. Mungo's, that I deduced who you must be."

"Dilys Derwent," Rose realized. "Yes, her photo hangs near my office door at the hospital."

"Precisely," said Dumbledore. "Then I knew that you were the woman responsible for saving Severus's life." Dumbledore smirked at Rose. "I was already shocked to find Severus at a ball, then imagine my surprise when he held out his hand to ask you to dance."

Rose rolled her eyes. "He told me to dance with him before he changed his mind. Not the most romantic offer I've ever received."

Dumbledore laughed lightly. "But it worked on you," he said.

"Of course, it worked on me," Rose replied. "I was already so in love with him."

The blue eyes twinkled. "I have never seen Severus smile like he did when he was dancing with you." Rose's heart swelled at the memory. "I was delighted to see you about the castle again and again. Sometimes quite after hours." Dumbledore gave Rose a pointed look.

Rose blushed.

"Needless to say, I was overjoyed to know he planned to ask for your hand," Dumbledore said.

"He talked to you about it?" Rose asked.

"Very reluctantly," Dumbledore replied with amusement. "He was convinced that you would refuse him."

Rose shook her head. "I tell Severus every day that I love him," she said. "I'm still not sure he believes it."

"Keep telling him," Dumbledore told her earnestly.

The classroom door opened, and Severus stepped in the corridor. He eyes fell upon Rose and Eileen first and then on the headmaster's portrait.

"Hello Dumbledore," Severus said in greeting, somewhat stiffly. He then turned back to Rose, stroking back a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It was not my intention to banish you and Eileen from my classroom. You can come back inside."

Rose glanced back at the painting of Dumbledore, who was smiling down at them.

"You have a beautiful family, Severus," Dumbledore interjected.

Unexpectedly, a smug look formed on Severus's face. "And this is only half," he said flippantly.

Rose grinned at her husband. "Well since I'm not banished," she said, "I think I would like to come back in with you. It was nice to meet you, Professor Dumbledore," Rose said.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Snape," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling.

XXX

Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for reading. It has been such a pleasure to read your reviews and hear your suggestions. More to come.

Sincerely,

Thora Jane