"WAAAAHHHHHH!"
Albus Dumbledore groaned and resisted the temptation to hide his head under his pillow.
"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered as he got up and padded over to the nursery.
"Severus, my darling, won't you give your old granpa even a few hours rest?" he asked the bawling child.
"WAAAHHHH!"
"Guess not," Dumbledore concluded. He picked up the infant and cuddled him. Severus continued to cry unhappily.
"Yes, I know, my sweet child, I know. Your tummy hurts, doesn't it?" Dumbledore soothed as he carried the child, the youngster laying face down on his arm.
Severus spluttered a bit but quieted. Dumbledore rubbed the small back.
"Good, sweetheart."
After an hour of pacing his rooms with the infant on his arm, constantly speaking in a soothing voice, some loud noises and subsequent bad smell indicated that whatever had been bothering Severus was now passed.
Dumbledore quickly changed the tired child's nappy. He smiled when the tiny thumb found the mouth and Severus started to suckle.
"Why don't you come with grandpa for the few remaining hours," Dumbledore cradled the baby and walked to his bedroom, feeling cold.
After securely covering Severus whilst making sure he would not be in danger of suffocating, Dumbledore leaned on his elbow and watched the sleeping infant.
It had been a month since his de-aging, and Severus had grown quite a bit on the house-elves's formula. Albus had never known Severus being anything but thin, nearly skeletal sometimes when he had been ill or hurt, but now Junior was healthy with the babyfat in all the right places.
"I should have a look at all Severus's medical files," the headmaster mused, "to see what caused him to be so thin. Perhaps we can avoid it this time."
He closed his eyes to catch a few more hours of sleep. There was no longer any reason to get up at a ridiculously early hour like he had done for years. Phoebe was proving to be a very efficient help to him and Minerva, which meant that on mornings like these, when Severus had been having a bad night, he could sleep in a bit.
Of course, sleeping in for him was about seven am.
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Harry woke at six, as he usually did. Hoisting himself out of bed, he did the excercizes his Healers had prescribed for him, and then rewarded himself for his effort with a nice hot bath. Winky usually made sure the Prophet was lying by the bath so he could read it while soaking.
This morning, however, Harry didn't feel much like reading.
The students were due to return soon, and he was ready. Nervous, at being a teacher for the first time, especially for a class he himself had always loathed, but feeling excited all the same.
Of course, Phoebe had helped him immensely.
A smile lit his face. Despite the gloomy months in the hospital, he and Phoebe had pulled through. They had encouraged each other, cried with each other, and often they had also laughed together. Especially after pulling pranks on the staff.
Their goodbyes had been difficult, both frightened to face the world again, and without each other at that.
"What use is a crippled Savior?" Harry had once asked Phoebe bitterly, "the next crisis that comes around, they will all turn to me and I won't be able to save them again. They will see me in the streets, and be disgusted because they expect a strong, tall, powerful hero, not a small skinny man who can't keep himself upright without using these horrid braces."
"You were a small, skinny boy when you saved them," Phoebe pointed out, "and I understand, Harry. People…people are used to me as a pretty girl. Open and outgoing. But I'm not that anymore, and they will be disappointed. You have tried to live up to people's expectations for so long, Harry. It's time to let that go now, or you'll end up bitter. Your magic is restoring itself and you have so much left to give."
"Mushy girl talk," Harry had groused, but sent her a grateful look all the same.
And now she was here at Hogwarts. He didn't have to face the student masses alone. Hermione would do her best as well, but she didn't understand. Not really. Not like Phoebe.
He frowned. "Those students had better be nice to her, or I'll deduct so many points their grandkids will be making up for them."
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At the Feast on September first Severus was two months old. Albus thought he was amazingly cute. The baby's eyes darkened every day, and would soon be black. Meanwhile, the black hair was growing and Dumbledore couldn't get enough of seeing the adorable dimples in the soft cheeks when the child smiled.
Of course, he did admit he might be slightly prejudiced.
Phoebe had taken a liking to the baby as well, and coo'ed over him regularly. Severus always welcomed her sweet nonsensical chatter with a ready smile and wild flailing of legs and arms.
This evening, Dumbledore carried the infant in a cloth on his chest. The baby was asleep, having been fed and changed prior to the arrival of the First Years.
The Sorting started.
Phoebe, sitting next to Harry, and like him, trying to hide by sinking as deep into her chair as possible, forgot her nerves for a little while as she watched the children get onto the stool.
"Bartholomew, Gerald," McGonagall called out.
A brown haired boy with startling blue eyes hopped onto the stool.
"Gryffindor," the hat decided after nearly a minute.
Harry applauded along with the rest of the staff.
"Does it make them more special to you, if they are sorted into your house?" Phoebe asked.
Her own school hadn't had houses, only girls and boys dormitories.
"A bit, I suppose," Harry answered, as 'Carson, Alan,' was sorted into Ravenclaw.
"But in the war I've learned to appreciate the strengths of each House. More than that, I've learned that there is more to a person than their House, and we run the risk of labelling people prematurely if we consider their House only."
Phoebe nodded, and smiled when a tiny girl climbed onto the stool.
"Who is she, Albus?" Harry asked the Headmaster, "there's no way she is eleven!"
Albus chuckled. "You weren't bigger than that when you started school, Harry. But you are right; she is nearly ten years old. She lost her parents in the war, and the Muggle orphanage where she was staying asked me to admit her early."
"Slytherin!" the hat shouted after a few moment's consideration, and Fiona Grendel happily skipped over to the appropriate table. The Slytherins looked doubtful: she was small and obviously younger, but there had been preciously few additions to their house the past few years. They would take whomever they could get.
"Surprising," Dumbledore remarked, "She is amazingly advanced for her age. I had expected Ravenclaw."
The Sorting concluded with 'Xavier, Daniel' and after that Dumbledore rose.
"A few announcements, before you can dive into the food provided by our excellent house elves," he said, softly patting the bag on his chest.
"For our older students: welcome back. You will notice some changes in the staff. First of all, professor Binns has retired. With the help of a house elf, he is now writing a book on the Goblin wars, which I am sure you all will be happy to purchase once it is done…"
The students, and most of the staff, snorted collectively. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"Yes. Well. Of course, there is the yearly need for a DADA professor, and I am glad that the curse has now been broken. We hope to have Alastor Moody with us for at least a year or three before his second retirement."
Polite applause followed from the older students. The younger students were a tad scared.
"History of Magic will be taught by Harry Potter," Dumbledore continued.
Applause rang through the hall, especially from the Gryffindor table. Harry stood briefly, smiled tensely, and sat back down.
"Furthermore," Dumbledore sobered, "Potions will be taught by Hermione Granger."
Enthusiastic applause followed, albeit somewhat confused.
"Professor Snape…Professor Snape is gone," the headmaster continued, forcing himself to continue, "He passed away."
The silence that followed this statement was profound. The older students, though they had never liked Snape, still were pale and withdrawn at this news.
"I hope you will remember him for what he really was, not for the act he had to keep up all those long years," Dumbledore softly said, "he was a war hero, the best spy we have ever seen. The harsh way in which he acted was mostly to maintain his cover. Despite how he acted in class, he cared deeply and worked tirelessly for your safety. Please, honor his memory for that."
He took a deep breath, and pulled back the cloth a little to reveal the small head.
"He did leave one thing: a small boy that I have now adopted. I would like to intruduce you to Severus Dumbledore-Snape. My grandson."
The stunned students didn't know what to say, although distinct 'Awwww' noises could be heard from some of the more openminded females.
"I now must divide my time between running the school and raising my grandson. Because of that," Dumbledore continued a bit brighter, "we have some more reinforcements on staff. We have hired a most excellent administrator/secretary. Please welcome Phoebe Falcon-Ashley. You will be seeing her around the school, no doubt. Should there be any problem with your schedules or the classes you wanted to take, you can ask her. Her office is next to professor McGonagall's."
Harry could see Phoebe shaking as she stood up. After a few moment's silence, applause started from the Hufflepuff table. Harry cast a glance at Rose Zeller, now a sixth year, who clapped, and elbowed the boy next to her to join in. Soon the whole Hall clapped politely, and Phoebe sat down after smiling briefly.
Albus smiled brightly at her before saying two words. "Tuck in."
The students needed no further encouragement as the most delicious food appeared on the tables.
Phoebe was talking animatedly with Hermione. They apparently shared an interest in house elf rights, and were planning to take matters up with the Ministry soon.
Severus stirred, and Albus chucked when the small feet tickled his ribs.
Harry pushed away his plate. He wasn't very hungry.
"Give him to me for a while, Albus, before you spill hot food on him."
Dumbledore handed him the baby.
"Hey there, Junior," Harry said, holding the child on both hands in front of him, his fingers behind the head, to take a good look.
"Can you smile for me? Or are you in a fighting mood today?"
Severus's lips parted in a hesitant smile.
"Don't think you can monopolize him for the entire evening," Phoebe said with mock indignation, "Albus promised I get to feed him later."
They both noticed the less than eager expressions from the rest of the staff, but ignored them. Harry sighed. Even Hermione was a little cold towards the child. He couldn't blame them, he thought, he had done the same.
Minerva seemed to be hesitant, he observed. She sometimes looked at the child as if she wanted to touch him or talk to him, but withdrew immediately.
Dumbledore smiled when he saw Harry and Phoebe sitting with their heads close together, talking to the infant in Harry's arms, trying to get another smile.
"They do make a cute…"
"Don't meddle, old man," he heard the voice of the Potions Master in his head, "you know you can be an interfering old coot sometimes."
He blinked. "Oh fine, I'll leave well alone. I'll just watch from a distance. Are you happy with that, my son?"
Of course, no answer came. Deciding it had been his memory playing tricks on him, Dumbledore returned to the most excellent steak on his plate.