EPILOGUE

It was a hot day in June.

In the garden, a tree dressed in brilliant foliage was bowing under the weight of hundreds of scarlet cherries. A big striped cat was giving itself a good wash, perched on a bluish gray slate roof. A moped suddenly sputtered loudly at the corner of the street and two pigeons who were cooing on the edge of the chimney flew off in a rustle of wings. Then everything went quiet again in Grimmauld Place.

The sun was slipping into the office of the second floor of Number 12, drawing golden arabesques on the mahogany table and on the dark green carpet.

There was a light layer of dust on the glass shelves of the library.

The door opened and Harry's voice echoed from the ground floor.

- "Wait for me in the office, I'll just have a quick look at this package. We'll travel by Floo Powder, I've already asked Minerva to open the network for us."

- "Okay", said Albus.

He closed the door behind him, stifling the conversation downstairs.

The prosthesis was somewhat stiffening his walking, but it was perfectly invisible under his uniform trousers.

The long and painful weeks of rehabilitation would soon be only bad memories. He could now walk without a wince and the healer had even promised he could go back on a broom starting next month.

He left his school bag on the desk and glanced around: shelves crammed with beige folders overflowing with Sticky quarreling in whispers, medals still in their boxes lined with red velvet, black and white pictures of hugging Aurors who were happily waving to the camera, the Voltiflor offered by Neville last Christmas that was starting to wilt.

Albus' eyes fell on Severus' portrait and he smiled.

- "Hello", he said, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

The man dressed in black crossed his long sleeves and pursed his lips.

- "It's Good afternoon, Professor Snape", he replied, throwing back his greasy hair.

Albus' eyes widened.

- "But you – you're bloody talking!"

- "Really, Potter?" sighed dramatically the portrait.

The teenager quickly came closer. He reached to touch the painting, but changed his mind at the last moment.

- "So this is where it was..." he whispered, fascinated. His smile widened and his emerald eyes began to sparkle. "Hello, Severus. I mean: Professor."

The corners of the portrait's lips tugged up imperceptibly.

- "That's better. Are you going back to Hogwarts, Potter?"

Albus nodded.

- "Yes."

A wrinkle deepened in the pale forehead of the man.

- "Are you scared?"

The boy hesitated.

- "A bit."

Severus huffed.

- "You're an idiot", he said.

Albus narrowed his eyes.

- "I liked you better when you were not talking", he retorted.

The portrait scoffed.

- "Teachers are not meant to be loved, Potter. Your father also had trouble with that notion and I see it is a gene almost as strong as the one which gave you this – hair."

The boy giggled.

- "I'm glad you're here", he grinned. "In his office. Do you sometimes talk about the 'good old times' together? I bet you complain about 'these modern ideas young people stuff their heads with nowadays' like my grandfather says, and Dad probably ends up drinking his tea cold!"

Severus frowned and his cheeks looked even hollower.

- "Your father and I were never very good at chatting", he said darkly. "We were too busy glaring at each other. Some regrets can never fade away and it's better not talking when so many words could hurt."

His eyes met two green orbs that could not understand, and he hastily concluded.

- "But it's all in the past, now. Forget it. It's only grown-ups' stories."

- "I'm no longer a child", simply said Albus.

And there was seriousness on his face that was not his age, like a footprint barely detectable of the horrors seen in the Hebrides – and the mark of a wisdom that did not submit to the sands of time.

Professor Snape nodded.

- "I know", he muttered.

He licked his thin lips.

- "This is why you should not be afraid, Albus Severus Potter. No matter what they tell you or how they look at you. No matter what you lost and what you have to do to compensate this loss. Remember who you are."

- "Who I am", whispered the boy.

The man wrapped him in a long look and something that looked like pride touched his sharp features.

- "You're brave and generous. You're a friend people can rely on. You're someone who makes good choices."

The teenager swallowed hard.

- "'M not quite sure it's true..." he mumbled shyly.

Severus cocked his head to the side and a tic that could be amused or annoyed tugged at the corner of his mouth.

- "Lots of filthy idiots in this world will always seek out to bring others down", he rasped. "But you'll find there are also people who'll see what's beautiful in you. And it is a crime not to believe them."

Albus let out a small strangled chortle.

- "Got it."

In the silence of the old office, his emerald eyes were clinging to the narrow eyes of the lonely teacher. A sigh heaved his chest.

- "It won't be easy, isn't it?"

Snape shook his receding chin.

- "Nothing is easy in this life, Potter. But you won't be alone."

- "I've got Terrence, Scorpius and Wendy, Neville – all my family, and then ... you'll be there too", completed Albus slowly. "In the Gallery."

A grin sneaked on his face.

- "But you'll be a lot quieter", he added mischievously. "We won't be able to talk as we do now."

The dark eyebrows of the man bounced at this insolence.

- "Has this ever been a problem?" he replied sternly.

- "No", Albus chuckled. "No, it never was."

They heard the door closing on the ground floor with a thud, then Harry's steps climbing up the stairs.

- "Al? You coming? I'm done, we can go", called the voice of the Auror.

The boy grabbed his class bag on the desk. On the doorstep, he gave one last look at the paiting.

- "Severus?"

- "Yes?" replied the man with a hooked nose. His face was not betraying any emotion.

Albus smiled.

- "Thank you", he said before leaving the room.

The door remained ajar and the two voices came lightly from the hallway.

- "Make sure you articulate", recommended Harry. "You don't want to find yourself in the clogged hearth of the Hufflepuff common room. Take a good handful. Oh, I hate to travel this way. Did I ever tell you about the first time I travelled by Floo Powder?"

- "About forty thousand times", said Albus. "What was the package?"

- "Mint chocolates from Gudmund Gwyliwr. A treat in the Hebrides. Night Furies, they call it. Want one?"

The noisy wooff of the floo powder carried off the rest of their words, and quietness came back to the 12, Grimmauld Place.

In the bleak painting, Severus Snape sighed and spun around in a broad movement of his black robes...

...to come face-to-face with Dobby who had just burst into his framework.

- "Oh, professor!"

- "Do not run", uttered between his teeth the sallow man who had been startled.

- "Dobby is so sorry, Dobby did not want to interrupt the meditation of Severus Snape, Professor, Sir", chirped the elf without losing his beaming face. "But Dobby meant to tell the Professor that if he came right away, he could perhaps get a glimpse of the return of the young master at Hogwarts through the portrait of Giffard Abbot in the Clock Tower, sir. His friends have made a banner and I think they're going to shot fireworks when he passes underneath."

- "Hum", the professor said. He frowned for a moment. "Who's the dratteful boy who was humming "Forget Potter the whimp and greet Potter the limp" last night? What's his name again? ...Bilbo? …Buggins? Ah, Cadwallader. Yes, that's right. Christopher Cadwallader."

A sly gleam appeared in Dobby's large protruding eyes.

- "The kitchen elves might have dropped some phuting pepper in his lunch..."

Snape grinned sarcastically.

- "Good. This boy won't be the last one, I suppose, but... for now it'll do. Well, let's go, Dobby."

- "Back to Hogwarts!" twittered the elf.

Moments later, the two paintings were empty.

In the quiet office, on the glass shelves that had not been dusted for a long time, the sun was sparkling on a dented medallion. Next to it, in a sleek frame, a young man with messy black hair was holding in his arms a little boy with green eyes just like his.

On the bench behind them, there was a black furry dragon and the swirling flame of the autumn leaves was reflecting in his golden split green orbs.

THE END

Or is it?

If you already miss them all, wait for "the Shufflers of Light"... coming soon!