A/N: Thank you so much for still following this fic and leaving me with such warm comments. I truly appreciate it. This is the second to last chapter, and I couldn't have done any of this without all of you wonderful readers encouraging me and sticking with me. Enjoy.
A New Dawn at Hogwarts
The day after Valentine's Day, Severus walked up the curved staircase to the left of his desk in the headmaster's office. He could hear the excitement from the former headmasters' and headmistresses' portraits reverberate all around him, the fervent whispers of congratulations. He merely shook his head and did his best to ignore them. Was there really nothing he could keep secret from this damn castle?
"No. There really isn't much you can hide from us anymore at this point," Phineas Nigellus replied in his portrait down below. "We know all, Headmaster."
"Well, we'll see about that," Severus mumbled. Being the expert Occlumens he was, he had managed to fool the Dark Lord for decades. Therefore, fooling a castle would surely be a piece of cake for him after that.
"Oh, you silly boy," one of the former headmistresses said with a laugh. "How little you know, Headmaster. Not even your Occlumency can prevent our connection now. You better just accept it, dear. We're here to stay."
"Insufferable portraits," he huffed with a shake of his head, walking across the landing towards the door that led to his rooms.
When the door swung open on its own a moment later, he bit back a sigh of annoyance. That was the fifth door that day the damn castle opened for him. "I can open the door myself, thank you," he grumpily called out.
"We know," several portraits yelled back, sounding entirely too happy for Severus's liking.
He stepped inside his rooms a moment later, closing the door behind him. He removed his long outer robes then, placing them on the hook beside the door. The sound of silence caused him to frown slightly. He would have thought he'd have heard Aurora at least moving about their rooms.
"She's in the nursery, Headmaster," Salazar announced from his portrait above the mantel.
Severus's eyes darted to the founder's portrait at once. She was in the nursery? Why? He then shook his head and tugged on his long black sleeves prior to heading there. He found the nursery door ajar and glanced in, finding Aurora sitting in the rocking chair reading the Daily Prophet.
"Anything interesting in there today?" he asked quietly, careful not to frighten her.
She folded the paper down so she could look over it at him for a moment and shrugged. "You tell me." She then cleared her throat before she read aloud. "Wearing an elegant Rodrick Taylor dress robes while still looking fifteen years old, Headmaster Severus Snape was seen escorting his younger six-or-seventh-month pregnant wife, Aurora Sinistra, to Diamonds restaurant in London for their Valentine's dinner date. Always the gentleman, Headmaster Snape later in the night offered his jacket to her when they went on a late night stroll through the nearby gardens under a perfect starry night sky."
"You've got to be kidding me," he cut in with a loud groan. He caught her soft laugh instantly.
"Just wait. It gets better." She then continued reading the article as he approached her chair. "You won't hear it from me, of course, but rumor has it that a certain lucky woman stole a kiss from the stoic headmaster over by the colorful fountains."
His hand jerked instantly, bumping against the small end table. Was nothing sacred anymore? "That's it. We are never going out ever again!" he declared. He caught his wife's sudden glance at him and frowned when he saw her disbelief. "I mean it, Aurora. We are never going anywhere again!"
"Why? Because some reporter saw us at dinner?" She gave a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You know, I love you, Severus, but there is no way we could do that again. Live our lives in secret, hidden away from the world. Once was more than enough. Don't you think?"
"It's not just the dinner," he argued. "We were followed. And they printed a private moment between us for all to read. For the world to read, Aurora!"
"It sucks. I agree, but all it revealed was that we went to dinner, had a leisurely stroll through the gardens, and kissed. Hardly something—"
"But it was a private moment! That's like . . . like them knowing we had consummated our marriage, Aurora."
She blinked before she burst out laughing, her hand moving to her swollen belly. "Pretty sure everyone knows that answer at this point, love."
"You know what I mean."
"Do I?" she said barely containing her amusement.
His frown deepened as he noticed her flippantness to the whole situation. "This week it is our dinner that interests them. Next week, it could be—"
"It could be something else next week. I know. But we can't just put our lives on hold again because some reporter caught us having a husband and wife moment, Severus."
"You don't understand," he said bitterly. Then again, how could she without his explaining it?
"So, enlighten me." She leaned forward towards him, giving him her full attention. The seriousness in her face had replaced her earlier playfulness.
He shook his head, though. No. It was better if he didn't explain it to her. There was, after all, no reason to darken her doorstep with his baggage. "If you have no qualms with it, then—"
"You know, pouting isn't a good look on you," she remarked quietly, crossing her arms as she stared back at him. The playfulness had returned.
"I'm not pouting," he spat back.
"Oh, heavens, Severus," she drawled. "Do you honestly want to play this game?"
"Excuse me?" he replied, slightly taken aback for a moment.
"Okay. Fine. I'll play." She then shrugged and sighed. "So, to most people, when your eyes narrow like that, they'd think you were just glaring at them. Only I see the way the corners of your mouth come down just a bit and the way your bottom lip—yes, that lip, Severus—sticks out just a trace. And then we have your arms crossed . . . just like that. And that, my love, is a Severus Snape pout."
His arms fell to his side the moment she mentioned that they were crossed. He blinked several times, staring at his wife like she was some foreign object he had never encountered before. Which wasn't far from the truth actually. She was never this . . .
"You've clearly spent too much time around my mother these past few weeks," he remarked quietly, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're not to see her again until after the baby is born."
"Or what? You'll ground me?" She laughed, rolling her eyes. "And there's nothing wrong with my spending time with your mother. I mean, she's certainly battier than Sybill, not to mention she has her moments of downright viciousness, but she is your mother."
"Don't remind me," he grumbled. If he had to do it all over again, he'd have told her that he was adopted and never introduced them to one another. When he felt Aurora's hand on his a moment later, he glanced at her.
"She loves you, Severus. She would kill for you; hell, at this point, I'm betting she has at some point. So, don't be like that. Don't be all 'I wish I never had a mother.' Because, trust me here, I would beat you every time in Whose-Mother-Is-Worse." She then sighed quietly and shrugged. "Not that it matters much anymore, though, considering."
He closed his eyes briefly, allowing the silence to fall around them. There were no words he could say that would heal those wounds. She was right, however. Eileen, for all her faults, did truly love him with all her heart. The constant embarrass-inducing care packages she would send him annually at the start of the year could attest to that.
His mind wandered for half a minute to the memory of the one and only time he had ever met Aurora's mother. He knew that day that Aurora and Syra had a turbulent mother-daughter relationship. But having been in her life for three years now, he still couldn't understand it.
"And just who are you exactly and what reason do you have to being in our daughter's rooms currently?" hissed the blonde witch coldly as she stood next to her husband. Her icy blue eyes narrowed like daggers onto Severus as he stood off to the side in Aurora's sitting area at Hogwarts.
"As much as I love you intruding and ruining a perfectly good day, Mother," Aurora cut in lazily, "just get on with it already, so I can finish my conversation with Severus."
He had noticed Syra rear back minutely at the mentioning of his name before her jaw clenched even tighter. Clearly, she had heard about him before, which he hadn't had the pleasure of having heard in reverse. Aurora's father only closed his eyes in response and held back a sigh. This sort of greeting between them appeared to be a normal thing, it seemed.
"So, you're the filthy Death Eater she raves about." Syra made a sort of 'hmph' noise as her eyes passed over him before she scoffed. To her left, Aurora looked ready to hex her. "I see nothing spectacular about you. You're just another worthless excuse of a wizard," she said nastily. "Like all the rest of them."
"Take. That. Back. Now, Mother!" Aurora snarled, her eyes darkening as her fingers curled around her wand slowly.
Syra glanced towards her daughter briefly before whirling around and throwing her hand back towards Aurora. "Orin, deal with your daughter. Will you?" She then held her head up a bit higher. "The girl listens to you more."
"Gee. I wonder why that is," Aurora snapped. "Maybe because you're a goddamn bitch who wouldn't know her arse from her head!" Severus caught Orin's curt headshake towards Aurora to tell her that was enough. "And you know what? You know who's worthless? YOU ARE, MOTHER!" she yelled after her. "It's why they kicked you out of St. Mungo's all those years ago. Because—"
Syra had whirled around and returned so quickly to stand just in front of her daughter that Severus had wondered if she had Apparated there for a moment. "They, as you so eloquently put it, 'kicked me out' of St. Mungo's because of you, you pathetic child!" Syra hissed, her finger pointing at her daughter. "But, please, do continue spouting off your ridiculous theories. I do so enjoy watching your stupidity unfold for all to see." Mother and daughter death glared one another for several minutes before Syra continued. "If you would just obey me for once in your life instead of rebel like some absurd adolescent, you would see that I am not the enemy here." She then pointed at Severus. "He and his kind are." She scoffed a moment later, though. "But, of course not. I forget. You enjoy being their little plaything that they take turns screwing."
"Severus?" his wife's voice said hesitantly, quickly pulling him out of the memory.
He glanced at her, noticing her concerned look instantly.
"Are you all right?" she asked softly.
"Yes. Just . . . recalling something."
"Like what?"
He forced a smile. There was no way in hell he was going to admit that he had recalled his first meeting of her parents. That would open up a whole new can of worms that he had no intention of ever opening, especially not when she was pregnant.
"Oh," Aurora said quietly. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and looked down. "You don't . . . Severus, you don't need to feel sorry for me." Her eyes briefly met his, a look of sadness behind her eyes. "I'm all right. I mean, it's not like I didn't know this day was coming at all. All I ever was to her was a disappointment. Something she pointed out every chance she could get. Frankly, I'm surprised she didn't leave earlier."
He winced inwardly. His silence, unfortunately, always made her think the worst.
"It's not that," he admitted with a sigh. "I was recalling your mother, yes, but more so our first meeting of one another."
"So, you don't think I'm having trouble dealing with my mother disappearing and leaving Dad?"
He stared at her for a moment. There was no right answer for that. Had he thought of that right then? No. But he had thought of it other times, though, after Orin had told her that her parents had split.
"Because that's not why I came in here today, if that's what you're thinking," she added, holding a hand up. "I came in here, because I was showing our son where he's going to sleep after he's born. Sort of giving him a tour of the place since it's been awhile since you and I've lived in the headmaster's private rooms. And then I sat down in the chair and was reading the Prophet before you showed up. Specifically reading about Albus's trial, I admit."
She was rambling. Even she knew that, he would imagine. But he couldn't think of anything to say. So, his silence continued, as did her rambling.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, Severus. I have been having some feelings about it, sure, but I'm dealing with them." When he still didn't speak, hurt flashed across her face. "You don't believe me, do you? It's the truth, though. I am dealing with it. Ask your mother. We've been speaking about it somewhat on our little outings together. Her bedside manner is nowhere near Poppy's, but she listens and offers advice. Or rather, criticisms in her case."
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. He wondered if it was because he was afraid that if he spoke, she wouldn't get everything she needed to say out.
"I've been talking to Dad, too, Severus," she pointed out, oblivious to his difficulty speaking. "But your mother is right, though. So what if Syra never returns? There's nothing I can do to fix that. She made the choice to leave. Not me. And nothing I say or do is going to make her come back. So, it's best to leave her in the past and focus on our bright future… on our family." She then finally glanced at him. "See? I'm good, Severus. I'm not going to have another major breakdown. No temporary hold at St. Mungo's for me this time. I'm good. I am." She gave a soft laugh, her hand on her belly. "How could I not be when I have you and the baby?"
"It's perfectly acceptable to feel saddened by this, Aurora," he pointed out.
She, however, laughed shortly and shook her head. "You sounded just like Eileen there. I know it's all right. I just am choosing to focus on our future instead. On the good." She then motioned towards the paper. "Like how I've softened the usually bitter old bat of the dungeons," she teased.
"I'm not bitter," he argued with a frown. Was that really what others were saying about him nowadays? That he had been bitter all these years?
"Of course that would be the part you'd object to," she said with a laugh. "Not the old bat part."
He crossed his arms instantly. "I worked very hard on maintaining that image, thank you."
"Why, though?" she asked seriously. "I get the whole pushing people away thing and being generally an arse, but why did you make yourself resemble a bat of all things?"
Cocking his head to the side for a moment, he looked at her strangely. He had thought it was obvious. Clearly, it was not, though, if she had to ask.
"I really enjoyed reading the Batman comics when I was growing up." He caught her surprise at once followed by a blink of confusion.
"Batman?" Her eyes narrowed on him. "That's a Muggle thing, isn't it?"
He couldn't help but laugh as he nodded. "Yes. Someday I'll have to show you my collection."
"You mean, you don't only collect dead bugs, animal parts, and books for fun but other things, too? Oh dear. That might be a deal breaker, love."
He snorted. "Says the woman who has her star charts littered about our rooms."
"It's better than pickled fire crabs," she shot back with a shrug.
"You don't pickle fire crabs," he started to correct. "It would ruin the—" He stopped in mid-sentence when he caught her amused smile. He should've known she was teasing him. She usually did when it came to his 'second love,' as she called it. He huffed, turning to glance out a nearby window. One of these days, he would learn.
"So, how'd things go with Poppy today anyway?" she asked a few moments later.
He shrugged, glancing back at her. A part of him wished she would have forgotten entirely about his session with the matron today. "She's rescinded my leave of absence and declared I'm physically and mentally able to return to my duties." He then quietly added, "If I want to return to them."
Her face lit up instantly. "That's wonderful, Severus."
He sighed, though, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't quite so certain it was.
She then sighed, obviously noticing his reaction. "Okay, so, why am I the only one happy about this?" she asked quietly, her eyes watching his every move.
"Because you are," he replied just as quietly.
"This is your chance to be the headmaster you want to be. To make the changes it needs. You didn't have that last year. You were too damned worried about the Dark Lord killing us all in our sleep."
"Yes, but—"
"No 'buts,' Severus." She sighed heavily. "You have a chance to make your mark on Hogwarts. To ensure your legacy among the greats. This is a good thing. I mean, if Hogwarts didn't believe in you, it never would have ignored Dumbledore as it had all this year. It wants you."
"But I'm enjoying our time together, Aurora," he admitted, the confession tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He glanced away soon after. "I'm enjoying this newfound time we have together. Being with my family. If I return to my duties—" He frowned when she interrupted him yet again, much to his annoyance.
"None of that has to change, though." She then laughed softly, running a hand through her curls. "I may be pregnant, but I'm not an invalid. I can sit down in your office with you while you work. Read a book or something. Not for the meetings where they're private, of course, but all other meetings I can be there for if you want me to be."
He blinked. "You'd willingly sit in my office with me, while I conduct mediocre meetings that are sure to put you to sleep?" he asked, seemingly dumbfounded.
"Hey, when I took our vows and said 'for better or for worse,' I meant it."
"Obviously."
She snorted. "So, you can't use that as an excuse."
"What if I'm in a meeting and you go into labor, though?"
"Then you damn well better excuse yourself and get the hell out of that meeting to be at my bedside," she replied with a shrug.
"And if I don't?" he asked, meeting her eyes. Two could play that game, after all. He yelped instantly when he felt the sharp sting of her hex. "I see," he replied, rubbing the inside of his forearm. When she gently reached for his arm a moment later, he paused and glanced at her.
"I'm sorry, Severus," she said honestly.
He frowned in response. "For what?" What did she have to be sorry about now?
"I shouldn't have done that just now," she explained. "You . . ."
Groaning loudly, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Now, who was treating whom like glass? "Enough. There is a very large difference between your hex and what occurred in my past. So stop apologizing, you foolish woman. I know you do not wish to hurt me."
"But . . ." Her eyes then narrowed as her voice trailed off. "Severus, do you smell that?"
He sniffed the air and frowned. She was right. Something definitely reeked. He then turned around towards the door. At the sight of light smoke slowly filtering into the nursery, his eyes widened. Something was burning.
Stepping towards his wife, he wrapped his arms tightly around Aurora before he Disapparated them from the nursery. He'd leave the putting the fire out for the house elves to do.
Frowning inwardly, Severus listened half-heartedly to Minerva as she updated him on all the progress that had been made during his leave of absence. Not that he didn't know all of it already, though, seeing as how he had been at Hogwarts all year. As he sat in his office, he glanced down at his desk, wondering for half a moment if Minerva would even notice if he started to play with one of the objects on his desk. The things looked rather inviting today. But he supposed that was because of how long this meeting had been dragging on.
"The Aurors finally finished their investigation into the fire that occurred here last month," she suddenly declared.
He lifted his head up somewhat and glanced at her. "And?"
"It'd seem one of the candles was knocked over by something, so they've ruled it accidental." Minerva smiled politely. "Luckily for you, the house elves were rather quick at extinguishing it before it spread to the rest of the castle."
"Or the portraits," chimed in Phineas Nigellus with the same dark look he had been wearing ever since the fire occurred.
Severus frowned and glanced at the former Slytherin headmaster. "How many times must I apologize before you'll take my word for it?"
"Well, forgive us for not being so forgiving, considering you left all of us here to fend for ourselves," Phineas grumbled, crossing his arms in his portrait.
"Oh, give it a break, Phinny," one of the headmistress drawled from her portrait. "He was doing the responsible thing and ensuring his wife and unborn child were safe."
"We could've died!" Phineas cried.
"We're already dead!" several of them shouted back.
"If I may continue," Minerva cut in, glancing up at the portraits. When a few inclined their heads to her, she went on. "The workers on the memorial project wanted me to inform you that they believe they should be finished with it sometime later this month. They were wondering if you would like to light the eternal flame or if they should do it."
Severus knitted his fingers together and sighed. He glanced towards the portraits of his predecessors before he looked at his wife, finding her staring back at him as she sat in a puffy chair off to the side thumbing through a book. He sighed heavily when he realized none of them were going to help him with his decision.
"It would be purely symbolic if I were the one to light it." He heard several portraits make an indescribable noise at that.
"It would be, yes," Minerva agreed, her hands held behind her back.
"And they would likely want to make a production out of it then."
"Probably."
He glanced at Aurora and made a face. He disliked large group settings where he was the one under the spotlight.
"If I don't, however, it would be seen as me brushing off the pain and heartbreak of last year's events," he stated, wincing even more.
"Likely."
He groaned loudly, his shoulders slumping. Why had he decided to return to his duties again?
"You could ask Harry if he would want to be involved," Aurora softly said a moment later. His eyes darted to her. "I'm told that he was quite good at giving moving speeches."
"Do you think he would agree?" he asked.
His wife shrugged. "You'll never know if you don't ask."
He nodded, making a note to ask him later that day. He then turned back. "What else?"
"The final thing is concerning the students."
Scoffing, he rolled his eyes. "And just what did the little brats do this time?" He caught Minerva's slight flinch instantly and frowned.
"There have been ongoing issues with the Slytherin students this year."
"We knew that would occur," he drawled. "What sorts of issues are we referring to here?"
"Fights with other Houses. Duels in the corridors as well. Not to mention . . ." Minerva let her voice trail off before she sighed quietly. "There was an incident of vandalism to the Slytherin common room two months ago, I'm afraid."
"An incident," scoffed Phineas Nigellus. "What she means to say is one of her precious damn lions decided to drown our students by breaking a window in the common room, Headmaster."
"What?" Severus's head snapped towards Minerva. "Why am I just learning about this now?!"
"Because you were on a leave of absence," she stated sharply. "Therefore, I had no obligation to inform you. The student who committed such acts was promptly expelled, I assure you."
"Expelled for attempted murder," Phineas huffed. "Things still haven't changed much since James Potter and his group were here, hmm, Headmaster?"
"How many incidents have there been?" Severus asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"More than its share," Phineas chimed in before he went suddenly silent in response to Severus's deep glare directed at him.
"What sort of incidents do you mean?" Minerva then sighed and shook her head. "Frankly, there have been too many small ones to count. The most serious, however, was the breaking of the glass." She motioned towards his large pile of papers on his desk. "The incident reports are in that stack." She met his eyes then. "Potter and Malfoy have been doing their best to help us repair the rifts when they arise, but it's becoming a clear fire keg in some parts of the castle."
Severus stood up instantly, slightly horrified but more so outraged that it had taken this long for someone to do the obvious thing. "I want all students to be in the Great Hall in half an hour." He caught Minerva's surprise at once. "If one of the brats decides he or she is too good to be there and doesn't show up, expel them. Immediately. Is this understood?"
"Yes, Headmaster," Minerva replied, bowing her head respectfully. She didn't even wait for him to dismiss her before she turned and left the office.
"Please tell me you're not planning to hex them all," Aurora sighed, giving him a look.
"That depends solely on them," he replied quietly before stalking towards the door.
Severus stood in front of the head table as the students filed into the Great Hall. He assumed he looked as unhappy as he felt, but he frankly couldn't bring himself to care very much about that. He was not about to mollycoddle them for their bad behavior, unlike the others had in his absence. He hardly wanted this to be his first grand speech upon returning, but they'd left him no choice. If making the brats realize they couldn't kill each other meant he'd be remembered as the Headmaster who scared them shitless while deaged during his first official act, then so be it.
They looked more confused than terrified, he decided as the room filled. He'd be sure to clear things up for them in just a bit. When he felt someone step closer to him, he remained staring straight ahead at the students entering but leaned his ear towards the person near him.
"Please don't kill them, Severus," Aurora warned softly, her hand gently resting atop of his arm.
He snorted with a particularly dark look on his face. Don't kill the little brats? That was her advice for him? When he felt her gentle kiss against his cheek a moment later, he finally glanced from the students to her. She was ruining his act. Likely on purpose.
"Please join the rest of the staff, Professor," he stated tersely, feeling rather thankful when she complied a moment later and choosing to stand next to Minerva. His eyes then watched the very last student walk in and join the Hufflepuff table. He waved his hand at the doors a moment later, resulting in them slamming shut instantly. He caught the wave of jumps from the students.
He let the silence settle all around them before he glanced upwards at the House banners above the student tables. So much of what was going on was a result of age-old Hogwarts' traditions. He drew in a slow breath, sensing the students' fear increase.
"It's come to my attention that some of you believe we practice an eye for an eye philosophy here at Hogwarts." He gave a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "How fascinating." He then glanced upwards at the banners waving above again. When his eyes found the Slytherin one, he sneered before he turned his attention back to the students. "How truly fascinating it is that you believe that because of last year's events, Hogwarts has turned into a free-for-all nowadays where you can hex," he paused, his smile growing before he shrugged, "curse anyone you feel like." He then shook his head. "Do you know what this makes all of you? Anyone?" He let his eyes trail over the students for a bit. "No?" Not a single student, not even Miss Granger, moved. "This makes all of you who have participated in such actions over this past year no better than the Dark Lord himself." He caught the looks of horrors instantly and sneered. "By continuing to further the long-standing prejudices, you continue the violence and hatred the Dark Lord used to his advantage. Purebloods vs. half-bloods and Muggleborns is no different from your 'All Slytherins are evil' prejudices."
"But they are!" someone from Hufflepuff shouted.
His eyes narrowed on the young witch, grateful when she had at least the foresight to look ashamed a moment later.
"Tell me, Miss Laurens," he said, addressing the young Hufflepuff girl. "Do you find my wife to be evil? Or perhaps even Professor Slughorn?" When she glanced down and shook her head, he scoffed. "If you don't find them evil, then how can you claim to say that ALL Slytherins are?" He waited for someone to dispute it. None did. "Every last one of you are operating on the premise that the Dark Lord only recruited those from my own house, but this is a lie. He recruited from ALL houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin." His eyes then glanced back up at the Slytherin banner. "There's not a witch or wizard in Slytherin who didn't go bad," Severus sneered, repeating the old phrase he had seen in Harry's mind during their failed Occlumency lessons. He scoffed. How little did they know?
"Peter Pettigrew . . . Gryffindor," he said, listing off the names of traitors from the other Houses. "Ryan Douglass . . . Ravenclaw. Laurence Mortimer . . . Hufflepuff. Just because they didn't make themselves infamous doesn't mean they didn't exist." He grimaced, shaking his head and motioning up at the banners. "Foolish children. These Houses mean nothing. They're tools used to help professors keep track of you." He caught several of them glancing at one another. "The Dark Lord didn't give a damn what House you were in. He was going to murder all of you regardless once he had killed Potter for good. Let me assure you of that." He then rotated his wrist somewhat, his wand slipping into his hand suddenly. Without a word, he raised his wand up towards the banners, several students letting out a frightened gasp as he did. His wand then slashed violently at the House symbols. Pieces of maroon, emerald, navy, and gold rained down onto the students.
"They're meaningless symbols," Severus declared, "and now they are no more. So you're going to have to find another reason to kill one another, I'm afraid. But let me be absolutely clear with all of you little brats. If you attempt to kill another student here at Hogwarts, you will find yourself in Azkaban for attempted murder, not on the train home. Azkaban! I will not coddle murderers in my school. Is this understood?" His eyes swept over them instantly, glad to see that they all appeared to comprehend the seriousness. "Excellent. Now, go to your common rooms and remain there. If I hear that even one of you decided to go for a midnight stroll, no matter who you are, I will be more than content with sending you straight home. Tonight!" The students quickly filtered out of the Great Hall soon after.
Severus's eyes met his wife's a moment later. He knew what she was going to stay later when they were behind closed doors. 'They were just children.' But they weren't anymore, though. The Dark Lord had taken their innocence last year, returning it with bitterness and hatred. Their actions were a testament to that. If he treated them solely as if their actions meant nothing, then he ran the risk of another parent burying a child. And he didn't wish that on anyone.
"If a student disobeys my orders," Severus quietly said as he noticed the deputy headmistress approach, "send them to my office immediately, Minerva. I don't care what time it is." He then caught her green eyes. "Is this understood?" He would expel them, certainly, but he wouldn't write them off entirely, though. Education was still a priority for all students in his mind.
"Yes, Headmaster." She glanced at Aurora before she and the rest of the staff left the Great Hall.
He frowned deeply when it was just his wife and him in the hall. This was not going to go well.
"They have been coddled enough," he stated, hoping to end this argument before it even started. "I don't care if they are having trouble dealing with everything. Killing one another is not going to bring back their loved ones." He stopped speaking when he felt her hand caress his cheek and turned to her.
"I know. I was just going to say how proud I am of you." He leaned into her hand and closed his eyes, giving her palm a quick kiss. "You're going to be an amazing headmaster, Severus. I know it."
All was well at Hogwarts after he gave his now infamous impromptu lecture in the Great Hall. According to all reports he had seen from Minerva and Poppy, the students had surprisingly been listening to him that day and taken his threats seriously. Not one student had been involved in an altercation since that day. In fact, he had noticed on his walks with Aurora throughout the past month and a half that the students were frequently now overlooking what House someone belonged to and asking whomever was nearby to join in on various activities, whether that was Gobstones or Quidditch. He couldn't believe how well it was going, but Hogwarts kept him up to date on all the on-goings about the castle and maintained the truth of what was happening.
"Kingsley accepted," Aurora suddenly said next to him as she slowly approached his desk with an envelope in hand. He inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to grab his chest. Where the hell had she come from? "He won't speak, but he'll definitely attend the ceremony." She laid Kingsley's response in front of him. "So, that's, what, three hundred or so people we're up to now?"
"At least," he replied with a shrug. The memorial ceremony was growing more and more every day, it seemed. He glanced sideways at her and felt a slight pull at his lips. The ceremony wasn't the only thing that had grown a lot of over the past month. He gently rested a hand against her large belly, chuckling when he felt his unborn son kick against his hand a moment later. It wouldn't be long now before he would be able to hold him. A few weeks after the ceremony, Poppy had estimated.
"You might want to have a talk with him, by the way."
"Kingsley?" Severus asked, glancing up at her.
"No. Your son," she said with a soft laugh. "He's been doing a lot of backflips today, I think."
He nodded before he stood up and maneuvered her into his chair. At first, she resisted but she relented after he gave her a 'humor me' look. Slowly, he lowered himself to a knee, letting out a soft groan when his joints popped and cracked.
"Calm yourself, my little one," he whispered, hearing Aurora's soft laughs above him. "Otherwise, we'll both be in your mother's bad graces. And we don't want that, do we?" He smiled when he felt his son's responding gentle kick. "Good boy." He then glanced up at his wife. "Better?"
"It's acceptable," she replied teasingly, her fingers carding through his long hair lovingly. "We still need to discuss names, you know? We never finished that discussion."
"Anything but Severus will be fine."
"I was thinking Luke."
"What about Nathan instead?" He caught her scrunched up face instantly and sighed. This was going to go on forever.
She too then sighed. They had been over names a hundred times already and couldn't agree on one. "What about a compromise? Lucas? I can call him Luke for short."
"What could possibly have inspired you to call our son 'Luke?" He then caught her sudden movement as she raised her hand and resisted the urge to duck. When one of his comics came flying into her outstretched hand a moment later, he understood. "You're kidding."
"What? He grew up to be a strong individual with this . . . force thing guiding him. We have the force. We just call it magic instead."
Severus couldn't hold back the laughter. "I'll tell my father you said that." He then glanced down at the old Star Wars comic and sighed. Luke Snape? He supposed it could be worse.
"Even your son likes the name Luke." He snorted and rolled his eyes. Sure he did. When he caught her arms encircling around his neck, he glanced back at her. "Are you going to tell me what you're working so hard on now?" His eyes narrowed before he glanced back at his desk.
"I was working on approving requisition orders."
"You know what I mean," she argued, her eyes meeting his. "You've been sneaking off and working on something in secret. Now, I want to know what it is."
So she had noticed that, had she? A part of him was disappointed hearing that. He had thought for certain he had kept it hidden from her this time, what with her being in charge of the memorial ceremony. He supposed it was time to let her in on it, though. Motioning for her to let him up, he stood up, helping her stand a moment later.
"Where are we going?"
"Our rooms," he answered, leading her up the curved staircase. He let her step into their rooms first before he led her to the nursery. He noticed her hesitation instantly and grabbed her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. When he opened the nursery door a moment later and heard her sharp gasp, he knew she had seen it. "Your father provided the wood, which came from one of the trees at Windsor, I believe. And my father helped supervise the project, since I'm not used to building things by hand, whereas he is." He watched her slowly approach the handmade crib, her hand lightly brushing against the polished wood before tracing the cutout of a crescent moon and star.
His eyes narrowed as the silence dragged on. Why wasn't she saying anything? He then frowned. Did she hate it? Should he have bought one instead? Talked to his mother and asked if she still had his? With each passing moment, more questions bubbled up in his mind.
"Aurora?" Still, she did not respond. "Talk to me please." The second he saw her shoulders start to shake, he rushed over to her, pulling her into his arms. What on earth was going on with her? He hadn't meant for her to cry. He hated when she cried. When anyone cried for that matter. "I'm sorry, Aurora. Truly. I'll take it back tomorrow. Please. Please stop crying," he pleaded, rubbing gentle circles against her back. "I'm sorry."
"Severus . . . stop . . . that's not . . ." He could feel her chest expand and contract, hitching on the inhales as she struggled to contain her tears. He pulled back slowly and searched her eyes. "It's . . . I . . . thank you," she cried, burying her head back into his shoulder.
"I don't understand," he said quietly, holding her gently. He felt her half-laugh, half-sob against him and sighed, resting his head atop of hers. "Are these . . . happy tears?" She nodded, which made him frown. Women were so damn complicated. "I see."
"Thank you," she sniffled, her breathing still hitching every now and then. "It's so beautiful. So . . ." Her voice broke as she started to fall to her knees, only stopped by his arms holding her upright.
A surge of fear rushed through his veins. Something was wrong. There was overly emotional, and then there was this, whatever this was. He picked her up, grimacing when he felt the brief pain in his scar as a result of his actions. He then turned on his spot, Disapparating them to the hospital wing.
The moment they appeared, he yelled out, "Pomfrey!" He heard the matron bustling out of her office at once, as he gently set his wife down onto the nearest cot. He brushed aside a curl that had fallen onto her face, noting that Aurora was now deathly pale with her eyes closed.
"Goodness gracious, Headmaster. I'm not a dog you can call at your beck and—" She went into pure matron mode when she noticed Aurora lying on the cot. "What's happened to her?"
"I don't know," he replied, his voice rising just a bit out of utter frustration. "That's why I brought her to you, Madam!" He then caught sight of Pomfrey's wand trailing over Aurora and felt himself slowly become calmer. She would fix it. She would make everything all better again. All would be well once more. "One moment we were talking. The next she became hysterical," he stated, his voice shaking just a bit. It would be fine. His dreams of late meant nothing. Everything would be fine soon.
"Hysterical how?" Pomfrey inquired, her head snapping up to look at him.
"She started crying, carrying on and such over the stupid crib." Why wasn't Pomfrey doing anything yet? His eyes remained on Aurora, noticing the color fade even more from her face. "What's wrong with her?!" he demanded, grabbing Pomfrey's wrist when she didn't move. Poppy's eyes told him everything he needed to know a moment later. He had been right. Something was wrong.
"I'm going to need you to wait in my office. Now, Headmaster!" The matron's tone gave no mistake to the seriousness.
How was this possible? Everything was fine just a few minutes ago. How could everything have come so undone in such a small time frame? When he felt Pomfrey push him none too lightly towards her office, he stumbled backwards before he saw Pomfrey snap the curtains shut around Aurora's bed and erect a privacy spell around it. Only then did he do as she ordered. There was nothing he could do for Aurora right now. Even he knew it. It didn't make it any easier, though.
Numbly, he reached Pomfrey's office, collapsing into a nearby chair. His hands covered his face soon after as he drew in shaky breaths. What had he done this time to deserve this? He had done everything right, hadn't he? He had made amends with the majority of those whom he had hurt over the years. So, why was this happening?
"Professor Snape," a surprised voice suddenly called out somewhere near the door. The voice then lowered into a gentle, concerned tone. "Is everything all right, sir?"
Severus honestly didn't know how to answer that question.
"What's going on?" Harry asked again. "Is something wrong with the professor?"
Severus still couldn't bring himself to respond to his questions. So, he chose instead to change the subject. It was a distraction, but one he needed as he glanced towards the door waiting for any word.
"Why are you here, Potter? Don't you have class?"
The young man shrugged, slightly dragging his foot along the floor. "Yeah. I've got Defense, but I needed to speak with Madam Pomfrey, though."
Severus's eyes narrowed on him. The boy needed to speak with Pomfrey? Why? His eyes moved over the young man, habitually checking him over for any injuries. He saw none, though, which led him to believe it had to do with Harry's mental state. Not that he would ever blame the poor child for having such difficulties. Not after everything Harry had gone through in his short amount of life. Events that had been thrust upon him by Dumbledore, the puppet master of all. Severus shook his head, though, removing those thoughts. Anger wouldn't help here. "Are you still worried about others' reactions to your growing relationship with Miss Lovegood?"
Harry blinked before he shook his head, clearly fighting back a smile. "No. That's not it. I, well, um, everyone has been really cool about it so far actually."
"Then why do you need to speak with Pomfrey?"
Hanging his head then, Harry sighed. "It's stupid, but I've got a headache this morning."
"A headache?" Severus repeated slowly, clearly not believing him.
"Yeah." Harry noticed then his look and quickly added, "Not like before, though, sir. It's just something that's come and gone since last year. She thinks it's some sort of side effect from my nearly dying. Nothing serious, though."
Nothing serious? A headache that came and went for him since last year was deemed 'Nothing serious?' He resisted the urge of hitting the young man upside the head.
"A headache relieving potion helps, so that's why I'm here. To get one from her." Harry's hand then came up. "I know what you're going to say, sir. But I promise that I'm not addicted to them."
Opening his mouth to speak, Severus went silent once he felt a strange feeling sweep over him. His head snapped back towards the wall that blocked him from seeing what was going on out there. He should be there at his wife's side, not in here with Potter.
"She knows about her mum, doesn't she?" Harry asked quietly a minute later.
Severus's head snapped upwards, his eyes darting to the young man. "What?"
"The Prophet's reporting that the Aurors found her mother earlier. Here." Harry then dug into his robes before he pulled out the badly folded up newspaper. "Read it for yourself, sir."
His eyes skimmed the front-page article, his heart dropping with each word. ". . . found earlier this morning outside of a forest near Sussex. Aurors have ruled her death to be accidental . . ." Syra was dead? He shook his head slowly, rubbing at his temple. It didn't make sense. Why would her mother's death affect her so much? She positively hated the woman. And for good reason, he thought.
"Baron," he called out, knowing the House ghosts were sure to be nearby. When he saw the ghost appear soon after, Severus drew in a slow breath, dreading the answer to his own question. "Did Aurora know about her mother's death?"
"Yes," the Baron replied. "But this has nothing to do with her mother's death, however."
"Then what? What's wrong with my wife?" Severus demanded, forcing himself to his feet. "Tell me, Baron." The sounds of a newborn crying loudly, however, gave him his answer. He whirled around before he brushed past Harry and into the main area of the hospital wing.
"Stop right there, young man," Pomfrey ordered in her usual no-nonsense tone, pointing a finger at Severus as her wand moved over the crying newborn.
"Is that . . .?" He stared at the bloodied baby boy, barely breathing.
"Your son?" the matron offered with a faint smile, finally looking up at him. "He is."
Severus's eyes darted to his wife, finding her now wearing a surgical gown with her hands at her sides. He pushed back the eerily similar memory of finding her in a similar pose last year.
"Aurora is fine as well, Headmaster. She's resting currently."
"I . . . I don't understand. She wasn't due yet." She had, in fact, several more weeks to go.
"Yes, well, your son seemed to disagree," Pomfrey said with a laugh. She then wordlessly vanished all the filth that had been covering the newborn with a simple wave of her wand. "And, in perfect hindsight now, I should've known that he'd be a troublemaker, considering whom his father is."
Harry snickered next to Severus. Whom was she calling a troublemaker? Surely not him?
"Was Aurora complaining of cramping today? Perhaps even a little more kicking than usual?"
"Yes." His eyes narrowed on her. "She was saying he was kicking her a lot more. Why?"
"Well, far be it from me to speculate, but I would imagine that she was also having cramps today as well. Normally, a few cramps here and there aren't necessarily anything to bat an eye over."
"But this was?"
Pomfrey nodded slowly, her smile softening slightly. "Unfortunately, with the amount of trauma she's undergone over the years and certain genetic factors, she was at a high risk for premature labor. It's why I increased her sessions with me these past few months." The matron then shrugged somewhat. "This, as sad as it is to admit, was the longest she's ever been pregnant before."
Severus remained quiet for a bit as he let that sink in. She had been so close to a normal pregnancy this time, just a few weeks shy of it.
"Our son is healthy, though?" he asked, glancing back towards the newborn.
"He is. In fact, as I'm sure you heard earlier, he has quite the pair of lungs on him actually." She then gently picked the rosy pink newborn up. "Would you like you to hold your son, Headmaster?"
He nodded numbly, listening to her directions on where to put his hands before he glanced down at the small babe. Faintly, he felt Harry step closer to get a look as well and heard a soft 'Congrats' from the young man. Severus, however, said nothing as he stared down at the little boy in his hands. Cupping his son's head tenderly, he smiled faintly down at him. "Hello, Luke," he whispered, careful not to scare the poor thing. "I'm your father." He chuckled when his son yawned. "The bloody bat of the dungeons."