AN: And here is the end, a lighthearted chapter to wrap it all up. Thank you all for reading along and I hope you've enjoyed this sequel. The HP fandom is still great after all these years and I appreciate all the notes and kudos. You're a great audience.

A special thanks to E, and you know why.

There are some typos in here that I have to correct, which I will do in a bit.

On Wednesday afternoon, just as Harry felt like he'd snap if one more person asked him about Umbridge, Fudge, the Ministry, Voldemort, or Snape's habit of poisoning people, mysterious flyers appeared in the student loos on each floor of the castle. The flyer was suspiciously absent on details, containing only a giant typeset W on the top third of the page followed by the text:

"The fuse is lit. Countdown to Friday, 9:00."

And underneath:

"Diagon Alley will never be the same."

A looping and swirling line trailed from the top of the page to the bottom, looking very much like the mentioned fuse.

Harry unpinned one from the fourth-floor boys loo and flipped the card over, checking to see if there was any further information. Harry knew it was from the twins, as Fred and George had promised a distraction, and it looked like they were finally going to announce their new store. On the back, underneath where his finger was, Harry saw a tiny black dog drawn with a match in its paw.

…

There was a buzz of anticipation around the castle on Friday morning and Harry was more grateful than he thought he'd be for Fred and George. Even last night's Evening Prophet, revealing that Fudge had been found in hiding in France, waiting for things to calm down before returning to England, hadn't sparked much more interest in talking to Harry. For the best, as Harry didn't actually know much more about Fudge than the public did and he was tired of answering questions about what had happened at the Ministry.

Harry wasn't sure if it was because people had actually lost interest, or realised the real source of information was Snape and thus they weren't going to get anything further, but it had worked. He was pretty certain as well that the DA hadn't exactly kept it a secret that Snape had poisoned Voldemort in the end, and it amused him to watch the wide berth that students were giving Snape in the hallways.

"Malfoy's gone, eh?" Ron asked, plunking down on the bench next to Harry. It was nearing the end of the breakfast hours of the Great Hall, but the elves made sure there was still plenty of food to choose from.

"Seems like it," Harry said, moving his pumpkin juice closer to his plate. "Lee Jordan saw him get picked up last night by his aunt."

"Bellatrix?" Ron asked, sputtering his water.

"Gross," Hermione said, tearing at the paper muffin holder surrounding her muffin.

"Different one," Harry said. "Sirius told me there were three Black sisters, and apparently one turned out pretty … normal."

"That'll be fun for the little ferret," Ron said, a happy look on his face. "Happy hols, Malfoy."

"Do you know where Fred and George are?" Ginny asked, bumping into Ron and sitting down beside him. "McGonagall is looking for them."

"No," Ron scoffed. "I don't keep track of them."

"What does McGonagall want?" Harry asked. Ginny was stealing rashers of bacon off of Ron's plate as Ron was loading them and gave Harry a grin.

"Probably to stop whatever this launch is. Everyone knows it's them."

"They certainly do," Hermione said, nodding toward the head table. Harry looked to see that every single teacher who was normally in attendance at the opening feast was there this morning, sitting with a watchful eye over the Great Hall as they ate their breakfast. Dumbledore was the only one to not seem concerned, as he read a knitting magazine and picked from a bowl of fruit.

"A few minutes and we'll find out," Harry said, shrugging. The entire hall was fuller than it usually was, as some students tended to skip breakfast and the last Friday before Christmas holidays wasn't a well-attended day for anything. Harry intended to go to his classes though, as he knew there were going to be fun spells to make ornaments in transfiguration and in herbology they'd be making Christmas wreaths. Harry had made Christmas crafts like those as a child in primary, but he'd never had the chance before to put them on display.

His Aunt and Uncle had always proudly showcased Dudley's awful creations, but Harry's had usually been put in the bin shortly after coming home to Privet Drive. This time though, Harry hoped to put something up on the door at Lower Tarrow.

Harry's quiet and hopeful thoughts for a real Christmas at home were interrupted by an echoing bell sounding from the front of the room, where a firecracker in the shape of Christmas bells was sparkling over the head table. Most professors were watching it carefully, but Flitwick had his wand out and at the ready just in case.

The bell chimed along to Joy to the World, changing shapes to various holiday iconography as it went through the song. Harry was pretty impressed at the skill of the magic, and he could tell by the way that Hermione was fighting a smile that she was as well.

After the song finished, two small new crackers zipped up into the air, forming into a banner that said Happy Christmas and shooting off small but tasteful set of fireworks.

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes want to wish everyone a Happy Christmas and we hope to avail of your business by Owl Order in the New Year. Diagon Alley space opening in the spring."

Fred and George, weirdly dressed like characters out of A Christmas Carol, stood in the doorway to the Great Hall and bowed at the polite but confused round of applause they were receiving. It was a showing of tasteful and elegant magic, and it was clear that neither the students nor the teachers believed that their display was done.

Sure enough, seconds after they stood straight again, a small popping sound echoed through the room and little pennants appeared at everyone's spot on the table. Harry thought they looked suspiciously like the exploding pennants that they'd first showed off in the summer, though instead of being House ones, these said Happy New Year. There was a small note pinned to each, telling students that there was a gift under their seats.

Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione as they appeared, and instinctively put his fingers to his ears. He'd only just covered them when the banner at the front of the room exploded, causing firecrackers to whip and whiz through the room at high speed. It was a dazzling array of colour and sound, explosions setting off new ones and creating large balls of sparkly lights through the room. The banner, now saying Happy New Year!, hung over the table still where several teachers were trying to put out the display. Snape and Hagrid were the only two not, with Snape scowling as he finished his breakfast, and Hagrid grinning with excitement as he watched the show.

"The Professors are really not going to love that everyone got a sample," Ron said, pulling a tiny box of puking pastilles out from under his spot of the bench.

"I can't believe Sirius gave them the money for this," Hermione said. "And this spring! They won't be finished their NEWTs before they open their store."

"I don't think they care much, to be honest," Harry monotoned. He'd pulled his sample box out and saw it was Fever Fudge.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking carefully at Harry.

"Nothing," he said, feigning nonchalance. Ron gave him a calculating look as the last of the fireworks died down.

"I don't think it's illegal, unfortunately," Hermione continued. "They're seventeen and so they are able to open their own store."

"It's not that though," Ron said. "It's Sirius, isn't it?"

"No," Harry denied. "Well, a little."

Harry wiped his mouth and stood, causing Hermione to rise with her bookbag and Ron to jump up and shove a muffin in his robe pocket for the walk to class. Harry took a moment as they walked to the door to figure out how to explain to his friends what was bothering him.

"I'm happy for Fred and George. And I'm not mad at Sirius. But it just seems like they get on much better than I do with him, even though he's my godfather."

"Do you think that's because of Snape?" Hermione carefully asked.

"Do I think he treats me differently because I chose Snape? Maybe."

"Not differently," Hermione shook her head. "I don't think he values you less because you're Snape's son now."

"That's news to me sometimes," Harry muttered. They were walking away from the Great Hall and staircases, but chatter could still be heard from everyone talking about Fred and George's announcement.

"He doesn't," Hermione insisted. "I think he just knows now that Snape does actually take care of you and is that parent figure that you were missing. So, Sirius doesn't have to be that for you."

"Which is why he taught you how to ride a motorbike underage," Ron grinned.

"And why he's helping Fred and George. He likes to help people and I think they remind him of his friends from school. And he knows you're okay right now," Hermione said.

Hermione led them up to the transfiguration classroom, giving Harry some time to think about what they'd said. Sirius at first had offered, seemingly without much thought, to have Harry come live with him. Following a series of not very well planned out events that had made Harry question just how much of a responsible guardian Sirius could be. Harry hadn't wanted that, as Snape had given him stability and a home and the knowledge that Harry didn't have to be the one that solely watched out for himself. The funny part about that, Harry thought, was that after living with Snape for a few years and being taught and cared for by him, Harry felt more like he could take care of himself than he did when he lived at the Dursleys.

"I guess I am okay," Harry finally said, as they reached the door.

"I'd say you are," Ron nodded. "Voldemort gone and you got rid of Umbridge? Ten out of ten, mate."

Hermione smiled and shook her head a bit as they took their seats and prepared to make ornaments.

…

Christmas morning was not like any of the movies he'd seen, where children excitedly popped out of their beds and ran toward the Christmas tree to see what Santa had left them. There was no snow drifting gently outside his window, but rather a windy grey morning causing the mill wheel to creak as it slowly rotated just outside. There wasn't a giant and brightly lit Christmas tree waiting for him either, nor many presents. He had already had his concert experience, and Harry figured that was expensive enough as a gift that he wouldn't be getting anything else from Snape.

Despite this, Harry laid in bed, smiling to himself and enjoying the lazy morning for what it was. There was no Dudley stomping around, screeching about his present count and demanding breakfast as he opened gifts, while Uncle Vernon glowered at him from the armchair. No Aunt Petunia whispering mean things at him.

Harry stretched and heard the faint click of a machine turning on, likely the coffee machine. He'd not heard footsteps in the hall, and figured Snape had cast a spell to turn it on. It was only half eight, but Harry slowly sat up and blindly shuffled his feet around on the floor for his slippers. He was fifteen, and too old for the childish excitement of Christmas. But this was his first one at his own home, and maybe it wasn't so bad to feel that little spark of it anyway.

Snape gave a knock to his door a moment after Harry had shoved his head through a hoody and Harry furrowed his brows in curiosity. Snape had been walking away from the kitchen, which was odd as that's where they'd normally take breakfast. But the tree was in the front room.

Harry yanked the door open and stepped into the sitting room, smiling as he saw the little tree in the window. It wasn't a large perfectly shaped tree like those that usually appeared in Christmas movies, and even though Harry had tried to tell Snape the night before that it wasn't a big deal to even have one at all, it was there, twinkling with small lights, and had some presents underneath. The two ornaments he'd made in transfiguration class were hanging on the tree, and though Harry couldn't see it, he knew his wreath was also on the front door outside.

"I thought Oasis was my gift," Harry said, watching as Snape sunk into the arm chair with a hot cup in his hands.

"These are all for me," Snape told him, hiding a small smirk behind his coffee mug as he lifted it to drink.

"Right, of course" Harry grinned. He nudged a colourfully wrapped parcel that looked like it was either a blanket or a Weasley jumper.

Radio One cackled over the sitting room speakers as Snape nodded for Harry to sit down and start unwrapping. Outside the front window Harry could just see one of the neighbours out walking their dog, hand clutched around their lapels to keep the wind out. Harry held his new deep purple jumper in his lap, clutching at the soft yarn that was so similar to his first one that he used as a comfort blanket.

It was nothing like the loud and chaotic Christmas of the Dursleys, and it felt more like home than Harry could have ever hoped for as a little boy who grew up in a cupboard.

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts before Snape noticed him feeling a bit sappy and opened more of the gifts. He found a basket of chocolates and homemade treats, a new pair of quidditch gloves from Snape, Nintendo game from Ron and Hermione, an Oasis shirt from Kingsley, a brand new gobstones set from his Gran, and a book of chemistry experiments from his Granddad. The last parcel, which bore the new and yet very recognisable Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes logo, was left carefully wrapped.

"I'll open that outside," Harry said, as Snape flipped through the magazine on classic British pop rock bands that Harry had given him. It featured The Clash, who Kingsley had strongly suggested to Harry was a favourite of Snape's. He'd had also given Snape some coffee and potion stuff, but he was really happy to see that Snape liked the magazine.

Harry sat back in his chair with a contented look on his face. There was no rush to get out of his pyjamas, and he didn't have to cook breakfast for anyone other than himself. The tree was small but the lights were warm as they lit the room, and though the weather was dreary, it was comfortable in the house and perhaps more importantly, it felt to him like his own house. He wasn't an unwanted guest, and he was pretty sure that if he decided to get up and look through the books on the bookshelf, or go to his room, or do anything that came to him that Snape wouldn't object.

He was home.

"Hey Dad, is this what Christmas was like for you as a kid?" Harry asked, picking up a mince pie from his basket of goodies.

"No," Snape responded, not looking up from the magazine but not sounding annoyed by Harry's question either.

"Wasn't like this at the Dursleys either," Harry said, catching a crumb that dropped. "Well, was probably great for Dudley, but for me there was a bunch of cleaning and cooking before Aunt Marge arrived."

Snape continued reading, but Harry was pretty sure he was listening.

"Dudley got to choose whatever telly program was on after, as he played with his new toys. If I was lucky, I could take one of his old toys that he no longer wanted."

"Mm," Snape said, putting down the magazine. He checked his cup and Harry figured it was empty by the disappointed look Snape gave it. "If you are feeling nostalgic, I would be happy to order you around all day."

He stood up as Harry grinned.

"No thanks, this is perfect."

"Pity," Snape said, pushing down on Harry's head as he passed on his way to the kitchen.

Harry threw his arms up in defence and laughed out of surprise. The smile didn't leave his face as he settled back into his seat, his jumper draped across him like a blanket.

…

"And thus begins the week of confusion," Kingsley said, plopping into the armchair opposite Snape. "Where we don't know what day it is and we're full of cheese."

"Speak for yourself," Snape said, nodding at the second coffee on the little table between them.

"You haven't eaten a lot of cheese?" Kingsley asked, the disbelief evident on his face.

Snape rolled his eyes.

"It is Thursday," Snape answered instead. Kingsley grinned and took a sip of coffee and undid his scarf as he looked around.

"It's been decades since I've been here. Surprised they're still open."

"Seventeen years," Snape corrected. "I do miss the old chairs."

"Of course you do. Wizards and wingback chairs are a match made in heaven."

"They were more private," Snape argued. His own coffee was less full than Kingsley's but still quite hot.

"And what were you needing privacy for as you were studying for your mastery?" Kingsley asked, giving a wink.

"Nothing to the likes of what you got up to," Snape countered. "Quiet at the Ministry now?"

"Severus, you've lost your gift for subtlety, old man," Kingsley said. "Give a min, I fancy a pastry."

Snape relaxed back into his seat as Kingsley weaved up to the counter display of pastries. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find this café as welcoming as it had been to him as a student, during those hard post Hogwarts years when he completed his potions mastery and made the biggest mistake of his life.

"Long story short, no it's not quiet. And it's entirely your fault."

Kingsley balanced a plate of treacle tart on his knee as he settled back into the chair.

"I would argue that the fault lies with Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge," Snape offered.

"Yes well," Kingsley said. "Fudge is complaining that he shouldn't actually be charged with anything as the doing was all Umbridge and your ex-acquaintance Malfoy."

Snape raised his eyebrow and waited.

"Umbridge has decided to eschew all sense of propriety and has taken a stance that the Ministry has become weak and it is her duty, and the duty of other purebloods, to take back the wizarding world."

"She's not a pureblood," Snape said, finishing his cup.

"I never got the feeling that the truth was particularly important to her," Kingsley said. He offered part of his treacle to Snape but Snape declined.

"Either way, she's facing charges of treason. Malfoy may be as well, but Scrimgeour is still going through the evidence."

"And yourself?" Snape asked.

"Officially off the case," Kingsley said. "I'm on leave for a few weeks, actual proper paid leave, and my only responsibilities are to provide context to the evidence."

"Just what you wanted for Christmas. A holiday," Snape dryly commented. Kingsley, ever since their days at school, had always been a workaholic and prone to not taking enough time off.

"Don't laugh too much," Kingsley warned. "Now that this is all tied up, I'll be darkening your doorstep more often."

"And to what reason do I owe that pleasure?"

"You're done, Severus," Kingsley told him. "Voldemort's dead, Death Eaters back in Azkaban, secrets are out. No reason to hide and not socialise."

"I suppose a visit or two wouldn't be out of the question," Snape said, making it evident that grumpiness in his voice was fully put on and that he wasn't at all opposed to the idea. "Potter seems to enjoy your presence."

"He's a good kid, Harry," Kingsley said, finishing his tart and looking relaxed and without a care. "Been through a lot but listens well and turned out okay. It's clear he's got a good mentor."

Snape looked over his shoulder, out the window at the bundled people walking past the café. It didn't hide the warmth in his cheeks, but made it less obvious.

…

Nearly every window at the Burrow was glowing against the dark evening sky when they apparated in. Snape had originally planned to floo, as it was warmer and didn't require dressing up to go outside, but Harry convinced him that more apparation practice wouldn't hurt. It didn't take much persuasion, which Harry suspected was Snape indulging him.

"Wonder what 1996 will be like," Harry said, as they walked to the door.

"Quieter, I hope," Snape said, as the door was flung open and Molly Weasley waved at them.

Inside the Burrow was not quiet at all, and Harry was swept up into the warmth and chaos of the house. The twins were nowhere to be seen, though by the somewhat frazzled look on Mrs Weasley's face Harry suspected they were likely outside somewhere setting up a fireworks display for midnight. Ron yelled down his name from near the top of the stairs, and Ginny came out of the kitchen with a bundle of snacks in her arms.

"Those are for later," Mrs Weasley admonished. "For the party."

"Harry's here now Mum, the party's starting," Ginny argued back, slipping past her mother.

"Already started! Get up here, Harry!" Ron's head disappeared from the gap in the stairs that Harry could see through, and he shifted the bag on his back as he took a large packet of Walkers crisps from Ginny.

"When did you start eating muggle crisps?" Harry asked, as they headed up the stairs.

"Mind you lot all come back down before midnight," Mr Weasley said.

"We will," Harry and Ginny replied. Quieter, Ginny responded to Harry. "Fred and George tried them and ended up getting us all hooked. They told Mum that a shop in Hogsmeade had them, but it was actually on a day they buggered off and went to London that they first started bringing them home."

"Won't your Mum figure that out when she wants to buy more and can't find them in wizard shops?" Harry asked, as they reached the top floor.

"Dad's been getting them. Bad idea to set him loose at the Morrisons but he's been having fun," Ginny said.

"Happy new year!" Hermione said. She was sitting on Ron's bed, relaxed against the wall under the slope of the attic roof. Ron had his record player going, and snatched the crisps from Harry.

"Good to stay overnight?" Ron asked.

"Yep," Harry said, dropping his bag in the corner next to a giant orange Chudley Cannons quaffle. "Dad's leaving just past midnight, said I could stay till your mum kicks me out."

"That'll be never then," Ron laughed, plopping himself down on his desk chair. There was a tiny table set up in the middle of the room with a few bits of paper and a hat on it, and it looked to be the set-up of a game.

"What are we playing?" Harry asked, sitting next to Hermione. Ron's comment was sitting oddly with him, not in an uncomfortable way, but an interesting one nonetheless. When he'd first visited the Burrow he thought it was the best place he'd ever been to. The comfiest, cosiest, and house most filled with warmth and care. It still felt like that, but Harry no longer had that tiny feeling of envy when he visited, the one that made him want to move into Ron's room and never leave.

"We're guessing what is going to happen next year," Hermione told him.

"You know, things like Voldemort had a secret kid, or Harry Potter becomes a Slytherin, or a herd of dragons take over the Ministry, that sort of thing," Ron joked. "Stuff that would never happen."

"But just might?" Ginny asked, with a mischievous look. "I mean, it is Harry after all…"

"I don't intend for that sort of stuff to happen to me," Harry protested. He used a silent accio spell to steal the chocolate frog packet that Ginny had just picked up.

"Oi," Ginny yelped, snatching at the air but coming up emptyhanded.

"Too slow. I'll play, but if you put me down for anything I'm going to curse you all," Harry grinned.

…

A roar of laughter floated down the stairs to the sitting room, where it was much quieter and the fire was burning bright.

"You don't have to stay till midnight," Arthur said, pouring Snape a pint of beer. "I suspect there's a bit more chaos here than at your home."

"Yes," Snape said, nodding his appreciation for the beer. "But this is… nice. My home is less quiet than it used to be, but the change is not unpleasant."

Molly, who had a large glass of wine in front of her, smiled.

"Must be a relief going into next year knowing that Voldemort's gone."

"I occasionally forget it's complete," Snape admitted, sipping his beer. "There was a lot of planning and meticulous timing for actions that consumed my daily thoughts for years."

"Only to then be dragged through the paper and the Ministry," Molly said, shaking her head.

"It was expected," Snape shrugged. "The end result was a success."

"Yes it was, wasn't it," Arthur quietly agreed, somehow conveying that he meant more than just the defeat of Voldemort.

Two pairs of footsteps darted down a few levels to the middle of the Burrow, where Ginny's room was, and a triumphant laugh precluded the slamming of Ginny's door. Both Molly and Arthur looked up, but neither seemed overly concerned.

Two large pops then echoed down the stairs, followed by confused and annoyed sounding canary chirping noises.

Snape raised his eyebrow but as Molly was shaking her head, he remained in his seat.

"Those will be the Canary Creams she was trying to hide under the crisps," Arthur said, as the chirping died down.

"A Fred and George invention," Molly sighed. "That store opening is going to be the end of me this year."

She waited a few seconds until they heard Ron and Harry thunder down the stairs toward Ginny's room.

"There you are," Molly said, shaking her head. "Our boys are fine."

....Fin.