"…and then I was the best in my year in History of Magic, so I don't really see why Potter should be teaching it…"

Phoebe sighed inwardly, wondering for the fifteeth time that evening why she had ever let Zacharias take her on a date.

"Wizards and their impractical thinking," she thought grumpily, "at least Muggles can discreetly check their watch, but casting a 'Tempus' is just unforgivably rude."

Though she could not check, she knew one thing: time had certainly slowed down to snail's pace. Finally, after having droned on and on, filling her in on his importance both at Hogwarts, at the Final Battle, and in his job, they got up to leave. Zacharias escorted her to the gates of Hogwarts.

"Thank you for your invitation, and dinner, Zacharias," Phoebe smiled slightly, and offered her hand.

"A hand only, darling?" Zacharias leaned closer, intent on planting a kiss on her lips, but Phoebe turned her head and the kiss landed on her cheek.

"Please, Zacharias," she stepped back a little and cast a glance in the direction of the castle, "let's not rush. We know so little of each other yet."

'Is Potter on the lookout?" Zacharias sneered, "I bet you do know him very well."

Phoebe nodded. "A year in physical therapy will do that. Honestly, Zacharias, I don't understand your dislike of Harry."

Zacharias folded his arms and scowled. "He is a show-off, an attention seeker. You didn't know him at Hogwarts. He always thought he knew best. Had the presumption to proclaim himself DADA teacher in his fifth year. He survived out of pure dumb luck. You had better keep your distance from him, he tends to get people that care about him killed. Or didn't you hear about Cedric Diggory and his godfather?"

Phoebe paled. Yes, she HAD heard about Cedric and Sirius. It had taken Harry a long time and some professional help to at least come to terms with some of his life and his losses. He had slowly learned to accept that Cedric and Sirius's deaths were not his fault, but she knew that if he had heard what Zacharias said, it would've come back full force.

"Harry is a kind, brave man," she said angrily, "he has been my best friend for over a year now and I am more alive that I ever thought I would be because of him. I'm sorry, Zacharias, but I don't think this is going to work. Goodnight."

She walked in the direction of the castle, leaving a gobsmacked young man behind. Wiping at a tear, she pulled her cloak tighter around her against the cold.

"Didn't work out, did it?" Athena's ghostly form asked, floating a little ahead of her.

"No. He's boring, mean, selfish and horrible."

"Ah. That doesn't sound like a good match."

Phoebe stood still at the gates. "He insulted Harry."

Athena giggled. "Zacharias Smith always detested Harry. I think he is jealous, and a little too convinced of his own importance."

"I just wanted to…to…"

"Make Harry jealous?" Athena inquired, "you certainly did. Give the poor boy a break, Phoebe, and tell him you would not be averse to his pursuing you. I'm sure he'd be happy to!" she called after the quickly retreating form of the Hogwarts secretary.

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Phoebe and Harry met outside the Headmaster's office early the next morning.

"Hi," Phoebe said, smiling a bit uncertain.

"Hey," Harry responded, albeit a bit stiffly, "how was your date?"

"Oh…alright I guess. I'm not very experienced with how these things are supposed to go."

Mentally she berated herself for not just telling Harry it wasn't going to work out between her and Zacharias.

"Let's go up, shall we?" Harry smiled, "I bet Albus has been up since five. Can you believe he still makes lists for Father Christmas?"

Phoebe giggled. "I can believe that of Albus, yes."

They entered the rooms snickering, and found Albus on the couch with Severus in his lap. The child stared in fascination at all the packages beneath the tree.

"Hello, Junior," Harry smiled, "ready for your presents?"

Severus smiled at them.

"Oh, can I hold him? Please?" Phoebe begged.

Albus chuckled. "Have I ever refused you?"

With Severus on her arm, his head resting against her shoulder, she walked towards the tree.

"My grandparents taught me to sing Silent Night before unwrapping any gifts. They were very devout people. My Grandfather said we should so we would not forget what Christmas is about. It was one of my first Christmas memories of them, a very solemn but beautiful moment on Christmas morning. Do you mind if I sing it for Severus now?"

Albus smiled. "I remember that song. It was not as well known as it is now when I was a child, but I did learn it. Mind if I sing along? You too, Harry?"

Severus looked up in surprise when the adults stood around him, his eyes widening when Phoebe's clear voice rang through the room, followed soon by two male voices.

"Silent night Holy night
All is calm all is bright
'Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night, holy night,
Shepherds quake at the sight.
Glories stream from heaven afar,
Heav'nly hosts sing Alleluia;
Christ the Savior is born;
Christ the Savior is born.

Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love's pure light.
Radiant beams from Thy holy face,
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth;
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth."

When their voices died away after the last verse, they smiled brightly at the awed child, and settled down around the tree.

"Here's a present for you, Junior," Harry said, handing Severus a brightly wrapped parcel.

Junior proceeded to eat the wrapping paper.

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It was shortly before Valentine's day.

"Albus."

The headmaster looked up from his work to see Severus's portrait waving at him.

"Yes, child?"

"Albus…I'm fading."

"What? NO! You can't leave, not yet," Dumbledore pleaded, rushing to the canvas and putting his fingers against the portrait's face.

"Oh, the portrait will remain," the painting smiled, "but I'll be gone from it. Albus, I never really WAS Severus, you know. Just an imprint."

"You said you would stay until I had gotten over Severus's loss! I don't think…"

"No, you're not over that, completely," the portrait acknowledged, "but you've grown very attached to the baby, and in doing so, you're slowly letting Severus go."

The old wizard let out a sob. "No, don't leave, Severus, Severus!"

"I'll be around for a little while longer," the portrait soothed, "but soon I'll be gone."

He fell silent for a moment. "Did you know that Severus loved you? Nothing in the world mattered more to him than your opinion."

"But not enough to stay!" Dumbledore nearly shouted, "Not enough to try…for me…"

He sat down, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I wanted him to be happy," he said brokenly.

"He IS happy, Albus," the portrait assured him, "he is perfectly happy. You're doing a great job with the little one. You would have tried to make him happy for many years, and you would not have been able to dispel the pain in his soul. Severus knew that. He loved you for wanting to make him happy, but he knew it was impossible, unless he did something drastic. Now you can love him freely, all you want, and it is within your power to give him the happiness you had in mind for him. It will just take longer than you wished."

A cry from the nursery made them both look up.

"Go to your son, Albus," the portrait said, "and love him."

Comforted by the warmth of the baby's small body against his chest, Albus realized the portrait was right – he was slowly letting go.

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An extra Hogsmeade visit had been announced for Valentine's day. Half the Professors volunteered to chaperone. After the horrors of war, love was now in the air.

Phoebe happily wandered around Hogsmeade, trying to decide whether or not she should send Harry an anonymous Valentine. She was admiring the display in a shop window when a voice purred in her ear.

"Looking for something…romantic?"

Startled, she cried out.

"Zacharias! How…why…what are you doing here?" She slowly calmed and her breathing evened out.

"Today is Valentine's day and I am all alone," the young man complained, "you never contacted me."

"I told you it wouldn't work, Zacharias," she tried to get away, but he held her tightly and began to pull her to the alley next to the store. From the corner of her eye, Phoebe saw Fiona run away, and hoped the girl would bring back help.

"I want you, despite your deformed face," Smith growled, "Potter. Potter drove us apart, but I want you, and you will want me!"

With that, he pressed close to her and tried to kiss her.

"NONONONO!" Phoebe tried to scream before a large hand covered her mouth and pressed.