The Man of the Moment

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Scar Tissue

Harry was woken up by a tinkling alarm.

"Time to get up! Time to get up!" it chirruped, until Harry waved his hand lazily, and stopped it. He pushed the duvet off his body, and got up in one swift movement. The sun was shining outside- it was going to be a very pleasant day, weather wise.

"Harry! Get up, you lazy sod," Persephone called.

"I am up!" Harry protested. If, twelve years ago, somebody had told Harry he would be living with people he genuinely cared about, and they him, in a nice house, training as an Auror and dating a pretty girl, Harry would have laughed and never believed it. If you had told him, five years ago to this very moment, that he would still be alive, he would have laughed and never believed it, either. Today marked the fifth anniversary of Voldemort's defeat, and the current Minister for Magic had decided there ought to be a commemorative event in its honour. Harry didn't exactly relish the thought of standing in a busy town port whilst people hand out medals, but he couldn't really get out of it.

"Harry! Breakfast's getting cold- get a move on!" Persephone called again, so Harry swiftly washed and pulled on his smart robes for the day.

Downstairs, Persephone was busy with a frying pan. She wasn't generally a domestic person, but sometimes she was grabbed by the whole idea. Especially when it meant she could take charge of the kitchen like a general would take charge of a battalion.

"Remus, can you butter the toast for me?" she asked, floating a few rounds of toast over to Lupin at the other end of the kitchen, who pointed his wand and conjured a thin layer of butter over each slice.

"Oh, there you are, Harry," Persephone said, "make yourself useful and put the mugs out, will you?"

Harry did as he was told, and soon enough, the three of them were sitting around the kitchen table of number 12 Grimmauld Place, eating a delicious cooked breakfast and consuming numerous cups of tea.

One of the first things Harry had thought about, when Persephone woke from her spell-induced coma, was that he'd really like her to live with him. He'd broached the subject to her whilst she was in hospital, and she had agreed, but on the proviso that she moved in when she was better, and that they redecorated, which Harry had no problem with- the whole house had generally managed to depress him beforehand, anyway.

"How long do you think this thing will be today?" Harry asked. Lupin shrugged his shoulders.

"Who knows?" he replied. Persephone snorted.

"Probably the time it takes for the Daily Prophet to base their entire next edition on it, and for lots of people who weren't actually there to postulate on the whole war," she replied, tucking her white hair behind her ears. It had never returned to its normal, jet black colour. Persephone had tried to dye it a few times, but she soon had white root regrowth, which, as she had pointed out, made her look like a skunk. Instead, she got fed up and took a pair of scissors to her long tresses, hacking it all off in frustration. Fortunately, Lupin had caught her and dragged her off to the nearest hairdressers. Now, she kept her hair in a neat bob- fairly short at the back, but long enough at the front that she could just tuck it behind her ears. Harry remembered Lupin commenting on it suiting her. Harry had to admit, it did.

Harry couldn't recall physically inviting Lupin to live with them; it just happened. Not that Harry minded- he was delighted. One day, when Persephone was finally discharged from both hospital and her father's care, she and Harry had gone out with a group of her friends from the Brethren to celebrate, bumped into Lupin and invited him back for a nightcap. He never left.

"When are you back at the Ministry for Auror training, Harry?" Lupin asked, whilst he poured himself another cup of tea, and offering the same to both Harry and Persephone.

"Not until Monday," Harry replied. "I've got time off for good behaviour."

Lupin smiled.

"Don't you mean, for study leave?" he probed, delicately. Harry smiled sheepishly.

"Yes," he replied, quietly.

"We should got and pay Gyaltsen a visit," she said. "He'd be able to help you out with some techniques- you know, for nerves..."

"I'm not nervous, though," he replied. "My qualifying exams aren't for ages."

Persephone frowned at him.

"Three months is not ages, young man," she mocked. "Seriously, you will be nervous nearer the time. I spent all of my Brethren qualifying exams feeling faintly nauseous. Poor Sam was the one who had to conjure up a bucket for me at the end of it all," she explained, with a snigger.

"Yeah, but Persephone, you were taking toxicity resistance tests, too," Harry enquired. Persephone's eyes widened.

"Oh, yeah- because you won't be expected to resist Imperius or Veritaserum in your tests, will you?" she replied, sarcastically.

"It'd do you the world of good, Harry," Lupin replied. "I remember you telling me how much you liked Tibet."

When Persephone had returned to full health after months of Snape's care and attention, she mooted the idea to Harry of doing a spot of globetrotting.

"Let's face it, Harry- what exactly are you doing at the moment?" she had asked, and Harry couldn't answer her. Once he had got his N.E.W.Ts- Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts- he was qualified enough to take up an Auror training post. Indeed, he was offered one straight away. The problem was, after everything that had happened, Harry didn't feel ready to go through more gruelling tests. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to be an Auror at all- he had started to doubt that particular career route ever since Neville forced him to think about his future in a school corridor prior to what turned out to be the Wizarding World's final battle against Voldemort.

"So, chat to Kingsley- he offered you the place, after all- and ask him if you can defer entry for a year. That way, if you decide being an Auror is the last thing you want to do, you can decline the offer, but if you decide you really want to go for it, the place is there ready for you," Persephone had suggested. Harry had come to realise that, on most occasions, her logic was impeccable, and so he took her advice. That left him a year in which he and Persephone took off on a trip around the world, visiting places such as most of Europe, a bit of Russia, India, Tibet (this time for a proper visit, not just to see Gyaltsen and his temple), China, Japan, Thailand, Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, Mexico, USA, Canada and Ireland, until they returned to England, where Harry felt completely refreshed and Persephone had got a little colour into her cheeks, and a smile back on her face at last. Nobody else had joined them, for the practical reasons of having to work for a living. Harry, guilty as he felt about it sometimes, didn't really have to worry about such things. As for Persephone, as she had said at the time, "On of the best things about heading an organization is the gross opportunities you have for delegation." She had merely taken a sabbatical from the Brethren of Tyr, where, far from receiving a Court Marshalling for her reckless, but impressive, war efforts, she was given first choice of Alex's old job. Alex had resigned- or retired, depending on how you looked at it- right after she had recovered from her operation in St Mungo's.

Persephone looked up from her breakfast and gazed at Lupin.

"You should come with us," she stated, rather than asked. "It'll only be for a few days..."

Lupin shook his head.

"I doubt it would be very easy for me to get into a different country, given my... well, the fact that I'm a werewolf," he replied. Harry saw his point; although the new Minister for Magic, Amelia Bones, had been working with Arthur Weasley (who, although he resigned as Minister due to stress, did not leave the Ministry completely) on improving rights for 'Dark creatures' such as Vampires, Werewolves and the like, this hadn't spread to many other countries- only Bulgaria and Germany had taken to the plans enthusiastically; probably owing to the large number of disgruntled Dark creatures that lived in their midst.

"Tish, pshaw and nonsense," Persephone scoffed. "You'll be with me. I never get questioned at borders anymore... Do you know, if I were that way inclined, the number of illegal racketeering and trade links I could set up would make me the richest witch in the world."

Lupin paused for a moment in thought, and then smiled.

"Alright- why not?" he said. "I'm sure I can get the time off work."

Persephone laughed.

"Remus, I know it's the only major Wizarding library in the UK, but I'm sure they'll cope if you aren't in for three days," she replied, cheekily.

One of the upshots of the whole push for more equal rights in the Wizarding community is that Lupin had, for the first time, been able to find a decent, long-term, well-paid job. It had started in St Mungo's, actually- Penny Bancroft had been swamped with records and photographs of all the odd curse damage she had witnessed throughout both of Voldemort's attack on the Wizarding world. Lupin, whilst he was receiving the last of his potion to treat those pesky furballs he kept coughing up, had mentioned he was pretty good with archiving (he had worked in bookshops and schools before), and offered his assistance. Penny, having known Lupin intimately enough in her youth to have had no choice but to have discovered he was a werewolf, accepted gratefully, and Lupin worked with her for almost a year. Once those files had been sorted, Penny also had a few words in certain peoples ears concerning what she felt was a long-needed amenity; a decent medical library for the Healers-in-training, and for those qualified. To cut a long story short, Lupin was asked to work with a few old Professors, research Healers and Madam Pince, who ran the only public library in the whole of the Wizarding UK, to form a proper medical research library. This quickly expanded to cover all sorts of subjects, academic, sporting and cultural, and Lupin became the Library manager. He had held this position for three years now, and it ranked as the longest he had ever worked in one job for in over twenty years.

Suddenly, a loud voice that sounded oddly like that Muggle singer Elvis, sang, "Uh hu hu- Someone's at the door!" throughout the room.

"I'll get it," Persephone said, getting up out of her seat. The enchanted door-bell was a housewarming gift from Benjamin Sampson. It was truly hideous, but Persephone didn't want to get rid of it, so it stayed. Harry laughed at it sometimes, but Lupin had a tendency to dig his fingernails into his palms wherever it went off.

"Uh- thank you very much," the voice said, in a sort of slur, which indicated that Persephone had opened the door.

"Do you think," Lupin whispered to Harry, "that we could just, accidentally set fire to it?"

Harry shrugged.

"It wouldn't do us any good. Persephone would get it repaired," he replied. "Anyway, you know Ben- he thought we'd find it as funny as he did."

Lupin sighed.

"Ben also thought we'd find those robes with fake bosoms and buttocks attached to them amusing," he replied dryly. Harry had to concede defeat there.

"Good point," he replied.

In a few moments, Ginny entered the kitchen, carrying her broomstick over her shoulder and wearing Quidditch robes of the amateur fund-raising team she had started playing for a few months ago.

"Hi, Harry; Hi, Remus," she said, with a smile. Harry grinned, and got up to kiss her. It had been five years ago, after Harry had been discharged from St Mungo's, that Ginny had confessed that she had been the one who kissed him during the blackout in Grimmauld Place that she had, apparently, nothing to do with. She had also demanded what he was going to do about it; apparently Dean was out of the picture. So, they had ended up dating- not very seriously- until earlier this year, when they had actually started thinking about things such as Ginny moving in with him. Only thinking, mind you, but they were unprecedented steps for both Harry and Ginny, who considered themselves very afraid of serious romantic commitment.

"Hi- how's things working with Fred and George?" he asked. Ginny shrugged.

"Pretty good- they've got me developing their side-line of girly potions and practical jokes," she said. "They want to call them, 'Tricks for Chicks'; I'm planning to overrule them at the shareholders' meeting. You'll be on my side, won't you?" she asked, but Harry knew beyond any doubt that she would kill him if he disagreed with her on this particular point. Being one of 'Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' first investors, he had a lot of sway compared to the later endorsers. However, being the boyfriend of their now third partner meant that power sometimes ran the risk of being abused.

Persephone had conjured up an extra chair for Ginny.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she asked. Ginny shook her head.

"I've just had brunch with Hermione," she explained. "But, I wouldn't mind a cup of tea, if there's any in the pot."

"Sure thing," Persephone replied, as she floated the empty plates into the sink and caused them to wash and dry up themselves. "Remus, could you sort Ginny out with a cuppa?"

Harry and Lupin burst out laughing.

"I knew it wouldn't last," Lupin joked, patting Persephone on the back as he reached for his wand to pour Ginny a cup of hot tea. Ginny giggled, too.

"I was going to say- I didn't have you down as a domesticated woman," she teased. Persephone looked at her in mock indignation.

"I can be, during episodes of paranoia and neuroticism," she joked, in a dead-pan fashion. However, Harry knew there was a grain of truth to her sarcasm.

It was safe to say that, once Persephone had woken up from the coma induced by the Snapes tribal spell, things had been far from plain sailing. Harry knew that Snape had taken her back to Hogwarts to care for her once she had been discharged from St Mungo's. Although, physically, she had made a fairly good recovery- she had still been heavily emaciated upon leaving- mentally, it was a completely different story. When she had moved in with Harry, she told him about the things that had happened whilst she convalesced in Hogwarts. First of all, in a curious occurrence that Harry didn't know could happen at all, her Patronus had changed from that gleaming Phoenix, to, bizarrely, a Dementor. Harry couldn't even fathom how a Dementor Patronus could even work, and rightly so, for every time she cast it, it could not repel a Dementor. Eventually, that Patronus vanished to be replaced by her trusty Phoenix, but Snape had apparently noticed a vastly increased revulsion of Dark creatures such as Vampires and Dementors whenever she got within ten feet of them all the time she carried that Dementor Patronus. Whether it was her body's way of protecting herself while her Patronus was out of action, or the whole affair was a symptom of the tribal magic still taking a hold of her, Harry didn't know.

There were other occurrences, too. She had tried to kill Snape about four times whilst she was in his care, during fits of paranoid flashbacks, where she was convinced she was still in pitched battle against Voldemort and Death Eaters. One time, she cracked Snape's head open with an axe, and Madam Pomfrey had to give her a very strong sedative whilst she spent three hours trying to force Snape's skull back together. She couldn't sleep for longer than an hour without waking from some fretful dream, and she developed painful rashes and scars randomly across her body, which disappeared as mysteriously as they had appeared. Snape had worked himself into the ground trying to make potions to treat her inexplicable symptoms, until Neville- who had joined the Hogwarts staff as a temporary Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to cover Persephone- suggested that perhaps all she really needed was a good walk around the gardens, which were in full bloom, citing that his gran always used to say that a good walk blew away the cobwebs. Snape had said something along the lines of how he'd Transfigure Neville into a cobweb if he didn't go away, but this was a Neville who had fought against Death Eaters in two major battles, so he ignored Snape's words and instead returned to Persephone's bedside with a large pot of living flowers. Even Snape couldn't ignore there was a slight improvement, and so he took Neville's advice (without admitting it, of course) and started taking Persephone around the Hogwarts grounds for walks, sometimes for picnics. He gently persuaded her to start flying on her broomstick again, and she started practising her Beating skills when the Quidditch pitch wasn't used. They grew flowers in a small patch of the greenhouses that Snape had persuaded, or bribed, Professor Sprout to hand over to them, and, slowly but surely, she began to bloom back into health. Snape encouraged her to take trips to Hogsmeade and nearby places with her friends both amongst the staff and in the Brethren, and within weeks, her Patronus returned to normal, and her relationship with her father took an unexpectedly good turn.

The downside to all of this, was that Snape's relationship with his wife became non-existent. Harry was no stranger to grief himself, and he knew from tales and experience that grief could make a relationship stronger as you go through your feelings together and try to mend broken hearts with love and understanding. He also knew that grief could rip a relationship apart, with anger, resentment and guilt; especially when one partner is so grief-stricken at having to bury their children before they were even born that she refuses to share her pain with him, instead choosing to freeze him out in order to try and bury all the bad feelings somewhere where she doesn't have to face them. Then, when the other partner can see no way of trying to get through to his wife, and so instead pours his heart and soul into helping his only surviving child recover to try and bury his own pain and to compensate for his own feelings of guilt, which, in turn, alienates his wife further, who has no blood links to her husband's eldest daughter, and starts to feel like a failure for not being able to nurture their own. At least, this is what Hermione had deduced and said to Harry when she was drafted in as an emergency Transfiguration teacher once Alex upped and left without so much as a letter. Snape was beside himself, apparently, and Persephone had left Hogwarts for good at that point. He went to Alex's house (given the situation when they had first got married, neither of them had risked moving in together), and found everything exactly as it was, and he worried even more. She hadn't taken any of her belongings; it was as though she just wanted to disappear. About three weeks later, an owl delivered him a letter from his wife. Alex had, for once in her life, managed to pour her heart out and told him how devastated she was, how she didn't feel as though she could talk to him, how his obsession with looking after Persephone- who had no shortage of friends and colleagues who would have helped carry the strain- had left her feeling neglected, unloved and even more guilty for 'killing their children' as she put it. She had returned her wedding ring in the envelope.

Snape, being Snape, had carried on as though nothing had happened. He probably would have continued doing so until this very day, if Hermione hadn't intervened. Harry and Ron had always known Hermione had an uncanny gift for interfering, one that almost outshone her other exceptional magical talents, so this news did not surprise them. She found the letter one day whilst going into his office for no real reason, and had collared Snape about it, who snapped at her in no uncertain terms, that it was none of her business and she should keep her nose out of other people's private correspondence in future. Hermione, although she had also fought Death Eaters twice in battle, was not like Neville. Not for her the simple, blustering in with a pot of flowers to prove a point. Oh no; Hermione was much too sly for that. So, a psychological battle ensued over the next week, where Hermione gradually wore down her prey with pointed references to research papers that suggested grief can result in many difficult emotions coming out, and that people need to open up in order to pass though these feelings of guilt and anger. Then came the Witch Weekly real-life stories; how some witch in Worksop coped with the loss of her son when Voldemort attacked, the couple that faced up to adversity, and were brought closer together, and so on. Eventually, and Harry liked to imagine Snape had been reduced to a gibbering wreck by this point, Hermione had turned up in his office with a bottle of Firewhiskey, a sympathetic ear and had persuaded him to find his wife and bring her home. Of course, this left Hogwarts without a Potions teacher for the rest of the week, but Snape and Alex returned to work as if nothing had happened, and not one member of the staff confronted them about their disappearance. Sometime later, Harry heard news that they had both sold their own houses and bought a bigger place together on the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

"What time are we all leaving, by the way?" Harry asked. Persephone shrugged, and looked at Lupin.

"You're the grand master of punctuality," she said. "What do you think?"

Lupin looked at his watch.

"We should probably make a move in about an hour," he said. "Are we meeting anybody?"

Persephone frowned in thought.

"Well," Harry said, "Ron and Hermione are meeting us there..."

Ginny jumped up in a start.

"Do you mind if I get changed here, Percy?" she asked. Persephone smiled.

"Sure; but you might want to use one of the bedrooms. Otherwise, the boys will stare," she quipped. Ginny mimed bellyaching laughter.

"Very funny," she replied, with a grin.

"If you need to shower or brush up, use any of the bathrooms except the one with a big red cross painted on the door. We had to fumigate it the other day- a load of Doxeys had set up a little breeding habitat in the underside of the bath, and it still reeks in there," Persephone added, as Ginny rushed upstairs.

Lupin took the tie he had hung over the back of his chair, and began to attempt to fasten it neatly around his neck. Persephone shook her head, and took it from him.

"What is it with guys and an inability to tie a decent Windsor knot?" she mused, as she deftly tied Lupin's tie and flattened it down against the lapels of his robes. Harry couldn't help but smile- they reminded him, at times, of an old married couple; yet, as far as he knew, they weren't so much as dating.

"Thanks," Lupin replied, before grabbing his wand and putting it in his pocket. "So, we're taking Harry and Ginny, meeting Hermione and Ron there," he said, as though ticking off an imaginary check-list. Persephone nodded.

"The rest of the Weasleys will meet us there, too, as will Kingsley and Hestia. The Hogwarts peeps are coming down from Scotland on the train... Oh," she said, snapping her fingers, "Alex and Pandora are coming with us. They're flooing here in about half an hour."

"When did this happen?" Lupin enquired. "I thought they'd be going with Severus?"

Persephone shook her head as she tidied up her hair.

"No, it's a Wednesday," she replied, inexplicably. When nobody concurred with her, she added, "Azkaban visitors day, remember?"

Both Harry and Lupin 'ahh-ed' appropriately. On the last Wednesday of every month, Snape went to Azkaban to visit Draco, who was serving a ten year sentence for attempted murder. Alex was dead against it, but she had relented over the whole issue when she realised she could argue until she was blue in the face, but he would never change his mind.

Before Arthur Weasley resigned as Minister for Magic, which happened around a year after that fateful battle in the Hogwarts grounds, he made sure that everybody involved with Voldemort and his terrorising of Muggles, Muggle-borns, oppressed creatures and so forth, were brutally punished. He most certainly refused to leave out of this regime the seventeen year old Slytherin schoolboy who had tried, on two occasions, to murder his son with the Killing curse. He had tried to convince the Wizengamot that, although Ron had survived, this was of no consequence, because it was only down to a strange string of events that he had been protected from Draco's desire to kill him. The Wizengamot were in two minds over this; on the one side, Mr Weasley was right, in that Draco had tried, twice, to kill Ron with the Killing curse, and there were many witnesses who could attest to this. On the other hand, he hadn't actually killed him, although the intent was there, and he certainly appeared remorseful. As much as Harry hated Draco, he could believe this. Judging by Pansy Parkinson's reactions when they were escaping from Hogwarts all that time ago, he hadn't exactly thought through everything, and once his Death Eater father turned up, he didn't really have much choice. Besides, Persephone scaring him half to death by threatening to kill him, and then decapitating his father was possibly punishment enough. Still, laws are laws and after much deliberation, he was sentenced to serve ten years in Azkaban. Snape, who was horrified at the decision, immediately began to argue Draco's case to the Wizengamot, sending character references and trying, somehow, to get his sentence reduced. Mr Weasley refused point blank to negotiate, and so Snape was furious with yet another person in his life.

Harry wandered off into the living room- which Persephone had decorated in some kind of neo-gothic style, according to the 'Manor and Hovel' magazine she had cribbed the idea off. Harry had always quite liked it, especially the big dark purple velvet sofas Persephone had managed to wangle from some up and coming designer, who had also thrown in some black wrought-iron chandeliers and some candle stands that currently adorned the black marble fireplace. Harry sat down on one of the sofas and thumbed through the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. On the front page was a huge photograph of an attractive young witch sitting on somebody's shoulders in a huge crowd, sporting a t-shirt that had the letters 'VD' emblazoned across the front. The headline read, 'Voldemort Defeated! Five Years in Pictures'. Presumably, now that he was dead and buried, the Daily Prophet felt quite happy in printing his name. Harry flicked to the rest of the paper, and saw various photographs of the injured throughout the last war against Voldemort, and some photos and articles about particularly notorious war criminals- including Malfoy senior and junior, with whom Harry felt the press had been delighted about, due to the family connection they could exploit. Malfoy senior, in particular, was given extensive coverage, if only for the way in which he had ingratiated himself within some of the more influential members of the Ministry before Arthur Weasley came to power, and for the gruesome manner in which he was killed. Peter Pettigrew, who had been returned to Azkaban; the Lestranges, of whom only Radbastan had survived, and consequently, been imprisoned. There were a few more names, but Harry didn't recognise them- the major ones had been slaughtered by the Brethren, a theory that one of the freelance writers loved to deliberate over. There was a section on true-life stories, as well; Harry was particularly drawn to an article about how a young Death Eater was saved from a life of debauched service to Voldemort by a Muggle-born witch pricking his conscience; he was intrigued mainly because he thought that Dr Cerveaux, Alex's psychiatrist from her teenage years, had definitely broken some kind of Hippocratic oath, and was likely to be getting a rather unpleasant visit from the Brethren. The next page was decorated in a sombre fashion, and listed, in alphabetical order, the names of all the witches and wizards who died in the last reign of Voldemort's terror. Harry recognised many of the surnames from schoolmates at Hogwarts- he presumed that these were various family members of said students. Porphyria Beauchamp- Snape's sister and Persephone's Aunt- was listed, but Harry had known this a long time. Her husband, François Beauchamp, had never returned to their marital home. Last Harry had heard, François had bought a banana plantation in the Caribbean and set up his home and business there. He had never remarried; apparently he was certain there would never be another woman like Porphyria. Harry agreed, but not for the same reasons François clearly did. There must have been something special about her, though, if no other woman on the planet could match her in his eyes.

Harry recognised names from the Order, too. Bode and Croaker- they had both been killed guarding the prophecy from Voldemort's grasp. Elphias Doge- he was murdered just before the big Battle for Hogwarts, and the Order hadn't found out until a few days later. Albus Dumbledore- the Prophet were running a separate double-page spread on him, but to Harry, a six hundred page book wouldn't be enough to cover everything he did for him, and every other student that walked through the gates of Hogwarts. Alastor Moody- Harry knew he had been killed during the latter part of the battle at Hogwarts. When the Death Eaters had found out of Voldemort's death, they were upset and enraged, and many of them attacked Moody for revenge. Nymphadora Tonks, who had died during the attack on the Ministry, and whom, in a quirk of fate, had gone in the place of Persephone, who had never forgotten this, and probably never would. Emmeline Vance, she had been killed around six months after Voldemort had been vanquished, by two Death Eaters who were convinced she had recorded a prophecy about the rising of the Dark Lord. They had been wrong, but that hadn't helped Emmeline. They were thrown into Azkaban without trial, partly because an Auror had seen the attack, partly because the public were so incensed, it was probably safer for the Death Eaters if they were imprisoned, rather than let out onto the streets where masses of witches and wizards were baying for their blood. Bill and Percy Weasley were there too; Percy never recovered from his injuries, and Bill... they didn't find his body for around seven weeks, which were seven hellish weeks for the Weasley family. Unfortunately, for Draco anyway, it had coincided with his trial. Harry recalled the huge double funeral, how upset Ron had been- especially because he had never really patched things up with Percy. Fleur had been weeping great buckets, which proved especially disquieting to the other attendants, for despite the fact that she was only a quarter Veela, her display still elicited many men to throw their handkerchiefs at her and bawl in sympathy. Ginny had stood there, quietly, holding Harry's hand. He had noticed one big trickle of water roll from her eye down her cheek, but that was all. She didn't need to be showy about her grief, for Harry could feel her pain all too clearly... No Brethren members were listed, and Harry knew a fair few had died in battle; Augustine Docherty, for one. The Brethrenite that had saved him from Death Eaters and transformed werewolves, as well- he still didn't know his name, but he knew he'd never forget his face. This wasn't an oversight on the Prophet's side, however- the Brethren simply kept their numbers so well hidden, they just couldn't find out.

There was also a huge, pull-out special on Harry himself. Harry glanced at the cover briefly- it showed him the day he had played that Quidditch rematch against Slytherin, and, to his amazement, had actually won, by a rather staggering margin. He was smiling, clapping, but looking elsewhere, and the Daily Prophet had decided the picture was perfect to convey the 'reluctant hero of our time' looking 'deep in serious thought; the death of his family, and his final victory over the man who had murdered them, clearly giving him a glimmer of hope in his next battle- to rebuild his life'. Truth was, he was cheering and clapping Ron, who had been the man of that particular match, and the sun had been glaring in his eyes. He noticed a couple of photographs that had clearly been taken at Hogwarts in his younger days, before he transfigured the magazine into a paper aeroplane and made to throw it into the fire.

The sudden flash of green light from the fireplace stopped him. Within seconds, the flamed died down, and Harry saw Alex step out of the fire, dressed in smart burgundy robes with a white shirt, holding a small child in her arms. She shook her head to dislodge a little bit of soot from her impressively controlled curls, and smiled at Harry, exposing her gold tooth. She looked rather pretty, Harry noticed- she had grown her hair over the past few years and it reached past her shoulders; the result was quite fetching on her. Her magical blue eyes looked less artificial now; Harry wasn't sure if that was a result of them becoming accustomed to her eye sockets, or whether he had just got used to them.

"Hello, Harry," Alex said. "Long time no see!"

She gently put the small child down on the nearest sofa, and gave Harry a big hug.

"How are you keeping, kiddo?" she asked.

"Oh, fine, fine," he replied, glancing curiously at the small child currently crawling over the sofa. Alex ran towards the child.

"Pandora," she said, holding out her arms, "come here, sweetheart."

The little girl waddled over to Alex and let her scoop her up into her arms, where she rested the child's bottom on her hip, and cradled her waist.

"You haven't met Pandora, have you?" she queried. Harry shook his head.

"No, I haven't," he replied. He had heard much about her, though. A few years after Snape and Alex had bought their house, and were apparently living- and working- together as husband and wife quite happily, Persephone had quickly come to the conclusion that they were trying for a baby. For starters, she had told Harry, they had finally got around to decorating the spare room, and it was looking very much like a nursery. A few months later, and Alex announced her pregnancy. She gave birth to a little girl, and the biggest argument she and Snape had was over her name. Harry assumed perhaps it was one of the minor issues that affect Muggleborn and Pureblood families (well, if a tribe really could be classed as Pureblood in Voldemort's sense of the word). Muggleborns would be used to fairly simple, normal names; Pureblood wizards most certainly are not. Snape was intent on something classical and impressive, rather like Persephone; he had suggested names such as Aphrodite, Artemisia and Pales (for the 'P' connection with his eldest daughter). Alex had not been impressed, for she was more keen on understated names such as Kate, after Hermione's mother, who used to baby-sit Alex, Yolanda, after her own mother, or Bethany. For a while, she was really keen on calling their child Hermione, which Snape probably would have conceded to, had he not both taught Hermione Granger and had her interfering in his personal life uninvited. For a while, every time a member of Hogwarts staff passed either of them in the corridor, they shouted possible baby names at them. The students had even got in on the act, and no matter how angry or threatening Snape got, he couldn't begin any of his lessons until he had been forced to listen to at least thirteen name suggestions; Alex suffered the same treatment, and the pupils in their Houses were even worse. Snape had the Slytherins telling him he shouldn't give up on naming his youngest daughter with an old-fashioned wizarding name. Alex had the Gryffindors- of whom she became Head of House after she had returned from her brief trip away after Persephone's recovery- telling her not to let Snape get his way. For the first two weeks, their child was known as 'baby'. Eventually, it was Neville that came up with the name Pandora, which suited both Snape and Alex. Snape liked it because Pandora was, in Greek mythology, a gift from the Gods- also, the only thing that was left when Pandora's Box was opened was hope, and he felt that Pandora's appearance very much symbolised hope for him. Alex had always liked the Muggle series of 'Adrian Mole' books when she was younger, so she was quite happy, too.

Alex smiled, and pointed her daughter towards Harry.

"Say hello to Harry, Pandora," she urged. Pandora merely waved shyly at him. Harry smiled.

"Hello, Pandora," he said. She was quite a pretty little thing, considering her father. She had big brown eyes and wavy black hair, tanned skin, and a big smile. Alex grinned.

"She's only thirteen months, but she's started talking lots," she boasted. "She's a little shy, though..."

"Do you want a drink, or anything?" Harry asked. Alex shook her head.

"I'm fine, thank you, Harry," she replied, before one of her eyes swivelled and rested its gaze upon the cover of the Daily Prophet. She smirked.

"Is that what they're calling it?" she enquired. "VD Day?"

Harry nodded.

"It looks like it," he replied, as Alex burst out laughing, so much so, that Pandora was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked. "I know none of us are all that thrilled about being the centre of attention, but the gesture is nice..."

Alex shook her head, still laughing.

"It isn't that, Harry," she replied. "It's just; well, being muggleborn- VD is an acronym used to describe something far less grand and noble than a celebration of peace..." With that, she stared laughing again.

Suddenly, Persephone entered the living room, and looked extremely pleased to see her two visitors.

"Hey, Al," she said, kissing her on the cheek, before cooing over her little sister.

"And how are you, Paddy?" she asked, holding her in her arms. Pandora giggled.

"Don't call her that!" Alex hissed. Persephone shrugged.

"I'm sure she doesn't mind, do you, darling?" she queried of Pandora, who merely smiled, before saying, "Perseph-nee!" Alex pointed at the Daily Prophet.

"Have you seen what they're calling it?" she enquired. Persephone leant over to catch a glimpse, and laughed as hard as Alex did.

"Oh, that's priceless," she said, between sobs of laughter. "That really is..."

At that moment, Lupin walked in, followed by Ginny, who was looking very pretty in pale, summery dress robes.

"Oh, hello, Alexandra," Lupin said, with a smile. "How's life at Hogwarts treating you?"

"Oh, good," she replied. "It's a bit odd, juggling lessons with babies, but it's going well."

"Where's Snape?" Ginny asked, upon seeing Alex. "Sorry, Alex- hi!"

Alex laughed.

"Hi, Ginny," she replied. "Severus is visiting Draco in Azkaban- he'll be meeting us at the event. If he actually shows up," she added. Harry frowned.

"Why wouldn't he?" he asked. Alex sighed.

"Let's just say it brings up a lot of stuff he'd rather forget," she replied. "Mark my words; he'll be there, even if I have to use a Summoning spell to drag him along!"

Lupin checked his pockets, before saying, "We should probably make a move- especially if we want to get back-row seats."

Everybody laughed- although the anniversary of 'VD' day should be honouring them all, none of them really wanted to be paraded in public over the whole affair. In truth, they'd all much rather try and forget about it.

A quick magically-enhanced car journey later, and Harry, Ginny, Persephone, Lupin and Alex piled out of the flashy car Persephone had pinched from the Brethren Engineering department, and made their way over to the memorial service. The setting was a rather picturesque harbour port, decorated with banners and flowers, of which the letters 'VD' were emblazoned across the centre of the largest banner. The words 'Voldemort's Defeat- Five Years' were inscribed, in a script font, underneath. Water lapped at the edge of the pale wooden flooring, and the sunlight bouncing off the sea, for some reason, made Harry's heart lift. The whole area had been heavily bewitched to avoid Muggle intervention, and a number of guards were looking alert, before stopping them to check their invitations.

"First row," one of the guards replied, gruffly. Alex smiled.

"Couldn't we go further towards the back?" she asked, in as sweet a voice as she could muster. "Only, I've got a baby here, and..."

"First row," the guard answered, as though it were his mantra. Alex shrugged, and they all wandered to the nearby bar.

"Well, at least there are some compensations," Persephone pointed out. "We can get blind drunk by the time we have to be shown to the country. Perhaps then the Ministry will be too embarrassed by us to try this again?"

At the bar, Harry was pleased to spot two very familiar faces.

"Hi, Ron; Hermione," he said, with a grin. Hermione hugged him tightly.

"Oh, Harry- it's been ages!" she exclaimed.

"It's been three weeks," he laughed. Ron leant forward and patted him on the back.

"It always feels a lot longer," he replied. "We practically lived together at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded as Ginny joined him. Ron put his arm around Hermione and kissed her.

"So," Ginny teased, "you two are back together again?"

Ron looked insulted.

"What do you mean? This time, it's for ever," he said, slightly sappily. Ginny looked at Harry knowingly.

"I give it five more weeks," she whispered jokingly. Harry couldn't help but smile; Ron and Hermione had been enjoying an on-off relationship ever since they left Hogwarts. Everything went wonderfully for a few months, and then they'd have a huge row, and split up. Then, one of them would have a bit of a fling with somebody, the other would get jealous, and they'd make up. The pair would continue in romantic bliss for another few months, and the cycle began again. It was almost comical. Harry recalled a particular situation during one of Hermione and Ron's break-up moments where, in order to make each other jealous, they went on a double date, and each took a partner- Hermione took a guy she had met during her work, a Potions researcher called Stephen Normakowski; Ron took a young woman he had met in a bar the night before called Janet Donahue. Ron and Hermione spent the entire evening sniping at each other, until they went off to argue more privately; only to go home together, leaving their bewildered dates at The Leaky Cauldron. Janet and Stephen married the following year- Ron and Hermione had been witnesses, and they all became good friends. Harry also knew at least one of Hermione's earlier flings had been with Benjamin Sampson, over a late-night session and one too many Firewhiskeys at work. He knew this because Sampson had repeatedly rang Persephone's doorbell at three o'clock in the morning on the night in question, only to shout, "I'm a cradle snatcher, Beau! A cradle snatcher!" at the top of his drunken voice once a disgruntled Persephone had answered the door, waking both Harry and Lupin up, too. It soon transpired that all Sampson had managed was to kiss Hermione for a while, before they both got embarrassed and tried to forget it had ever happened. The fact that he was supposed to be training Hermione made Sampson feel guiltier than he really needed to. He had then proceeded to try and propose to Persephone, who reacted by forcing a small amount of Draught of the Living Dead down his neck before floating him into a spare room, and going back to bed.

Harry had been shocked when Hermione revealed to him her decision to work for the Brethren. Apparently, Persephone had head-hunted her before she even got a chance to accept a post within the Unspeakable department of the Ministry. She had always spotted Hermione's potential in class, but her plans with the Order had made her talents even more noticeable. So, she became a general researcher for the Brethren of Tyr, where she swiftly moved into heading research projects, and also took a hand in working for the House Elf Recruitment Department, allowing her to fuel her desire to see the end of House-Elf enslavement.

Ron, on the other hand, had taken up a slightly less surprising career. Harry had remembered him deliberating over trying to get onto the Auror training scheme, but he had a last minute change of heart half-way through filling in the application form, and instead decided to follow his late brother Bill into the world of Curse-Breaking. The pesky problem of him not having an Arithmancy OWL didn't stop him from owling Gringotts, who informed him that, providing he successfully passed a short course in the subject, they would taken him on to train for the position, whilst studying for the required Arithmancy OWL in the process. At first, Ron had found the idea of more study appalling, until Hermione took it upon herself to help him with his short course Arithmancy study, which Ron demonstrated quite an aptitude for.

"I wish I'd bloody taken this instead of Divination, now!" he had complained. He moved branches to an Australian banking firm soon after his training had finished, however- the Goblins constantly kept calling him Bill, and Ron found it upsetting, to put it mildly. It was bad enough that his brother had died, but to be constantly reminded of the fact was enough for him to accept an offer from a Wizarding banking firm in Sydney- Apparation made global commuting no different than national, or even local commuting. Harry had often wondered whether the dangerous aspect of his job had resulted in a lot of the tension between him and Hermione- he had garnered long since Hogwarts that their feelings for each other ran very deeply, and it wouldn't surprise him if their fears for each others' safety sometimes manifested themselves as anger. Still, this latest 'on' moment of their relationship had been continuing for almost nine months. It was possible that they had finally realised what everyone else knew when Ron and Hermione were thirteen- they were pretty much made for each other.

Persephone nudged Harry, and passed him a Butterbeer. She looked quite cheerful.

"You've changed your tune," Harry teased. Persephone grinned.

"They're got a free bar!" she said, excitedly. Ron laughed.

"You are so tight, it's unbelievable," he commented. Persephone looked indignant.

"I'm not tight," she protested, "I'm a pragmatist. There's a world of difference! I may find this whole affair brings back a lot I'd hoped to forget, but at least I'm getting free booze for my troubles; which may go some way towards helping me repress."

"Fair enough," Hermione replied. "Still, I'm not going to argue with my boss," she added, in a whisper. Persephone seemed to find this most amusing.

"No, because you've never disagreed with me on any matter, ever, have you, Hermione?" she teased. Hermione blushed.

"That's disagreed- not argued," she corrected, which amused Persephone further.

"Antidote for every poison; you're learning, Hermione," she said, with a wink.

"Persephone," Lupin called, from the bar.

"Back in a tick," Persephone said, before making her way over to Lupin, presumably to help him with more drinks. Alex swiftly took her place, Pandora in tow, and proceeded to hug Hermione, and then Ron- who seemed a little embarrassed by the contact.

"Hello guys," Alex said, with a serene smile. "How are you doing?"

"All right, Professor," Ron said- and Harry understood why; Alex still carried that aura of distant respect that almost insisted you still referred to her as Professor. However, he had also noticed that she looked a lot- well, happier- than she had during Harry's time in Hogwarts.

"Oh," Hermione cooed, "Hello there!" It didn't take Harry long to work out she was taking to Pandora.

"Hello," the little girl gurgled, before hiding her face in her mother's hair. Hermione laughed.

"She's so sweet!" she sighed. Alex smiled, and conjured a baby bottle of water, which Pandora seemed quite happy to drink.

"Isn't she just?" Alex agreed, as Pandora sucked at the bottle, apparently engrossed in the entire action. "Aren't you, hmm?" she said, kissing Pandora on the top of her head, at which she barely reacted.

The conversation turned, for a while, to babies, and left Harry and Ron feeling rather scared, and glancing towards each other for comfort, hoping that their respective girlfriends weren't planning on getting too broody just yet. Pandora seemed quite unaware that she had become the centre of attention, her only distraction to her bottle of water was when she looked up, and beamed.

"Hagrid!" she said, waving her hand up and down. Sure enough, Hagrid was indeed making his way over to the small group, clutching a flagon of ale in one hand, and Madame Maxine in the other. Both looked a little older, but apart from that, there appeared to be very little difference in Hagrid from the last time Harry saw him, which had been last year, in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Alrigh' everyone?" he said, cheerfully, whilst Madame Maxine sipped at a huge glass of wine.

"Yeah, we're good, Hagrid," Harry said, with a smile. "You okay?"

Hagrid nodded.

"Bes' as I can beh, given the situation," he admitted. "I don' much go fer these things- brings back ter many mem'ries," he added, sniffing. Harry knew he was thinking about Dumbledore's death.

"At least they're serving Real Ale, hey, Rubeus?" Persephone pointed out, at which Hagrid smiled.

"There's always somthin' in ter way of compensa'ion," he joked, before he noticed Pandora, and his face broke into a huge beam.

"Hello there, precious," he said, gently ticking her cheek, at which she giggled. A lot.

"She's an absolu' treasure, i'nt she?" Hagrid said, to Alex, who smiled.

"Here, Olympé," Hagrid said, in order to get Madam Maxine's attention. "Yer used ter teach these two, din' yeh?" he asked, pointing and Persephone and Alex. Madam Maxine instantly recognised them, and stared exuberantly chattering to them in French. From what Harry could work out of the few bits of French he had picked up during his travels with Persephone, and from their body language, he could deduce that Madam Maxine was asking Persephone about what had happened to her black hair, and also about Alex's daughter. The odd, frozen smile that covered her features when Alex uttered the name 'Severus Snape' suggested to Harry that Madam Maxine wasn't perhaps as enthusiastic about the coupling as Alex had been.

"How's Grawp, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, after she had received a bone-crushing hug from Hagrid.

"Oh, he's doin' alrigh', yer know," he replied. "I've got him workin' on some of me allotmen' space, back at Hogwar's," he explained, proudly. "He i'nt ready to, yer know, interac' with ter children ye', but give him time."

"At least he's staying out of trouble, Hagrid- you wait until he starts bringing back ladies, like his older brother," Ron joked. Hagrid blushed scarlet, and punched Ron's arm in a playful fashion- which meant Ron would have a huge bruise there for the rest of the week.

"Gerrou'ofit," he mumbled, with amusement and embarrassment. Ginny smiled.

"Yes, because then you get to berate him constantly about it, rather like someone standing not a million miles away from me now!" she added, glaring momentarily at Ron, who shrugged.

"Can I help it if I know none of your boyfriends will be good enough?" he said, before looking at Harry. "Apart from you, of course, mate," he added, hastily.

At this point, the remaining Weasley family turned up. Mrs Weasley hugged them all with wild abandon, before dropping none too subtle hints about how Charlie was about to get married to a girl he met in Mexico when he was introducing some breed of dragon back into the wild at her rare creatures reserve in Chihuahua. Harry knew this roughly translated as, "When are you going to do the decent thing by our daughter, Harry?" and "When are you and Hermione going to start giving us grandchildren, Ronald?"

Harry knew this had to be very hard on both Mr and Mrs Weasley, given that two of their sons had died so that the Ministry could hold a big parade and hand out free drinks. He was impressed that neither of them appeared particularly bitter about it. Mr Weasley shook Harry's hand, and warmly asked about him and Persephone, who soon arrive to talk to him herself, and to pass more drinks around; which she seemed to find enormous compensation for the entire affair. Fred and George joined them, too, looking more sombre than usual. They had cracked a few jokes, but their heart wasn't really in it. Harry could understand, and he suggested a trip to the bar, for the fact that it was free seemed to have bolstered quite a few people's flagging spirits. Lupin, Harry noticed, had not moved from the bar; he was talking to Hagrid, who was happily downing a pitcher of cider and talking intently to him.

Soon after this, Harry noticed more guests arriving- some of the Professors that taught him from Hogwarts caught his eye. Professor Flitwick, complete with his false wooden leg that he had to have fitted after a particularly violent encounter with a vampire at the Hogwarts castle during the last big battle that had brought about the very thing they were celebrating here. Professor Sprout was also present, and they both came to say hello and enquire as to the welfare and success of Harry, Ron and Hermione, around the time that Alex had a Communication Siphon to her lips (an invention of the Brethren that Persephone had tweaked, and then hired the copyright out to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes in order to boost the finances of her organisation), shouting something along the lines of, "If you're not back here in ten minutes, I'll come over there myself and drag you back- whether you get splinched or not!"

McGonagall soon appeared by Alex's side, looking older, and greyer-haired, than Harry had remembered.

"Severus still not back, I take it?" she enquired, grimly. Alex shook her head.

"He doesn't want to be here, I know it," she said, McGonagall looked perturbed.

"You will make sure he turns up, though, won't you?" she asked. "He ought to attend- it'll get it all out of his system, if he can see what he helped to achieve."

Alex laughed harshly.

"I don't think it will, Minerva," she replied. "But, I will make sure he attends."

McGonagall then spotted Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and rushed over to them- well, as much as she could rush on her trusty walking cane.

"And how are you four?" she asked, happily. "You all look so grown up- I still remember when you walked through those Hogwarts gates for the first time..."

"And we're still as handsome as ever," Ron commented, cheekily. McGonagall gave him a sort of amused, but stern, look.

"You four... Of all my students, you, Miss Lovegood and Professor Longbottom have made me most proud," she said. Harry thought she saw tears well in her eyes, but he thought he must have imagined it, because the next time he looked, they were gone. "You've been so brave... you deserve this..."

"How's Neville doing teaching for you?" Hermione asked, suddenly, and Harry guessed it was partly an attempt to distract McGonagall from her reverie.

"Oh, fine," she said happily. "He'll be along in a minute. I'll admit, I thought perhaps he was too young for the post- but experience can be garnered at fifteen, can't it? He really inspires the students, too. I can't say Professor Snape is as enthusiastic as myself, but I've come to expect that," she pointed out, with a small smile. Harry and Ron exchanged glances, and couldn't help but smirk. Snape had always wanted to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts- surely McGonagall consoled him with the observation that Neville teaching Potions would be too much of a disaster for him to be resentful for long.

Indeed, Neville did turn up just moments later, looking taller than Harry remembered from their last meeting, and they chatted as though they had seen each other just yesterday. He seemed happy enough, and definitely a little more confident. Harry remembered Neville's gran had died a couple of years ago; which had hit him hard, but he seemed to be coping with it a lot better now. Harry also knew he had scores of pupils who loved him as much as the Gryffindors had loved Professor Lupin, which had to be a boost. Anyway, his fears of Snape appeared to have been banished after five years of working alongside him.

"Hey, I was wondering," he asked suddenly, looking at Harry.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, suddenly looking serious. Neville smiled, and pointed over at where Lupin and Persephone were still trying to pass drinks around the ever increasing cluster of Hogwarts alumni and remaining Order members. Harry had recognised a few Brethrenites, but not many had turned up, mostly to preserve their much-guarded anonymity.

"Lupin and your sister," he stated. Harry hadn't a clue what he meant, and told him as such. Neville laughed.

"I mean, are they... you know," he enquired, awkwardly. Harry suddenly cottoned on, and spluttered into his Butterbeer.

"No!" he replied, slightly scandalised, until he thought about it a little more. "Well, I don't think so..." Persephone was not one for sharing every gory detail of her life with Harry- he knew she had been on a few dates, but with whom, he had been unsuccessful in finding out. He had wondered about Sampson; but their relationship was far too complex for Harry to analyse, and he could never quite tell whether they were just very good friends, or if there was something else there. Lupin was even more reserved on such matters of the heart, and as far as he knew, Harry had never noticed him to express such an interest in anyone.

"You'd know Harry," Ron said, sagely. "You'd have heard them, at the very least..."

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, trying not to laugh. "You're unbelievable!"

"What?" he protested. "It's just a simple fact!"

Suddenly, Ginny turned around and squealed, before running away.

"What's eaten her?" Ron asked, but Harry had already spotted what had caused Ginny's behaviour, as Ginny flung her arms around a serene looking young lady with dirty blonde hair and wide, protuberant blue eyes.

"Luna!" Ginny shrieked, "You're back!"

"Yes, I am," Luna said calmly, as Ginny dragged her over to where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville were standing.

"Hello everyone," she said, waving.

"Hi Luna," Hermione said, "How's Korea been?"

"Oh, fine," she said, with another wave of her hand, as though everyone spends two years living and working in a foreign country. "I'm going back next week. I've been studying lots of creatures- the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, for one; told you they existed!"

Hermione blushed, but smiled.

"How about all of you?" she asked, and they all regaled her with stories about their careers, relationships and those of anybody they happened to either know, or know of. Luna seemed very interested, especially when she found out about Snape and Alex.

"Oh, that's so nice," she said. "He did seem to like her awfully... Is he here? I haven't spotted him..."

"He'll be here later," Neville replied. "Whether he likes it or not. Alex won't let him wriggle out of it."

Luna nodded, as though she understood perfectly well why he might not want to attend.

"Have you brought anybody, Luna?" Ginny asked. Luna shook her head.

"I came alone," she replied. "I thought of asking Liu, but I don't think he'd enjoy it much."

"Who's Liu?" Ginny asked, with deep interest.

"He's my boyfriend," Luna explained. "I met him on the research team; he captures all the animals and tests them for fecundity, disease and other health things. He's very nice," she added.

"I'm sure he would have liked to come with you," Hermione pointed out. Luna shook her head.

"He would have been confused," she explained. "He can't speak any English."

Ron and Harry exchanged glances.

"But, surely you could translate for him," Hermione enquired. Luna shook her head.

"I can't speak much Korean, so I don't think I could," she replied. Now it was Hermione's turn to look bewildered.

"So, neither of you share a common language?" she asked. Luna smiled, as though Hermione had finally got the point.

"Oh, no," she replied, affably.

Suddenly, they were all called to their seats, and so nobody had chance to ask Luna how exactly she could maintain a relationship with somebody she couldn't even have a conversation with. Harry noticed that Snape had finally arrived, and was sitting next to Alex a good few seats away. Harry hadn't seen him since he lied to cover up Snape's murder of Tom Riddle, and he was surprised at how grey his hair had gone- there were heavy flecks of it around his temples, as though somebody had attacked him with a paint brush. For some reason, he had also grown a small beard and not so small moustache, which only served to emphasise his huge hooked nose further. He had a haunted look about him, too. Persephone had mentioned to Harry how long-term spying assignments can mess with peoples' heads, and she had also mentioned, only once, after a few glasses of wine, how Snape had managed to keep himself so busy during the time between Voldemort's first disappearance, his final vanquish, and the energy he poured into helping Persephone get well again after her possession, that he had never really given himself a chance to register everything he had gone through. Harry looked again at Snape, and the way in which Alex gripped his hand, and understood why everyone had been so worried about him trying to get out of attending the ceremony. Whatever had happened to him, whatever he had done- he had not managed to put it behind him.

A brass band started to play, and they marched around the audience, their matching royal blue and white robes giving them a nautical feel. The front leaders of the band proudly floated huge flags with the letters 'VD' printed on them. Persephone seemed to find the whole affair most amusing, and she hid behind her program. Harry looked around, and saw Alex was trying to hide her mirth as was, surprisingly, Hermione.

"We are gathered here today," a small, portly man dressed in very ostentatious red robes with a silver trim, "to honour those who died to bring peace and safety to our land, and also to those who survived. However, this is not just a case of honouring our war heroes, living and dead, who fought to bring justice to this fair isle, but to those who struggled to create a sense of normality in those troubled times. The teachers, the Healers, the merchants; everyone who helped our community to carry on, despite the horrors we all faced..."

Harry found the whole thing a little dull, to be absolutely honest. It was all very well going on about this historic event, but it felt so cold, so clinical and devoid of feeling, Harry found it almost insulting that this portly man with the droning voice should be allowed to try and whip the Wizarding world up into a frenzy about people who died to give them peace and equality. He brightened up when Amelia Bones ascended to the stage to give a moving speech about unity and trust, and personally thank Arthur Weasley for his bravery and stoicism during their hour of need. Then, there had been a ceremony to present Order of Merlin awards to everyone who had been instrumental in battling Voldemort. It was weird; Persephone got one, she joked, because she had been about as seriously injured as you can get, and she had firmly decided that happened to be the way in which the Ministry deemed you had qualified for one. The speech Amelia Bones made, however, gave reference to her courage, her strength in the face of torture, her refusal to bend her will and a shrewd sense of strategy. Oddly enough, it didn't make mention of her awesome, yet terrible, sacrifice which, in a way, meant that Harry was able to vanquish Voldemort. Alex received an award, too- although nobody seemed to know exactly what she had done, except for the Order of Phoenix, and the Brethren of Tyr. In fact, Harry would have put money on Alex not really knowing, either, due to the methods by which the Brethren protect the lives, and memories, of those members who retire. Alex, granted, must have been permitted more of her memories than most, owing to her relationship with Snape, who most certainly remembered what had happened. However, Harry still thought that much of her recollections would be fuzzy, at best. It went some way to explaining her new, serene manner. All of the Hogwarts teachers received one for their determination to keep on teaching and protecting the next generation of witches and wizards- Snape got a particularly high honour, on account of his dangerous work as a spy, which had now been revealed to spectacular fanfare by the Daily Prophet. He had seemed very cold and distant upon receiving his medal, and, to Harry's surprise, seemed very uncomfortable when the speech about his noble sacrifice, bold daring and keen intelligence was made. Harry had always thought the one thing Snape craved more than getting his own back on Harry's father, was recognition and glory. Lupin received an award for his hard work in pushing for equal rights, his kindness and compassion whilst trying to forge links between angry werewolves and other 'Dark creatures', and his bravery for standing up to Voldemort's henchmen when he was captured. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones received awards for their sterling examples as Aurors, and their hard work and dedication to the cause. Mr Weasley received the highest order for all his work within the Ministry, as well as a big speech that made Mrs Weasley cry. Hermione, Ron, Luna and Neville received awards too, for their bravery and determination to rescue their classmates, and also for the clever plan they had concocted, which was followed by a short speech about shaping the future generation.

Then, Harry was called up. His legs felt like lead.

"I can't do it," he whispered to Persephone, who clipped him around his ear.

"If I can go up there and feel horrendously over-exposed; you can, too," she said, grinning. So, trembling, Harry clambered up to the stage and was steered into place by the short, portly man who beamed at him with utter insincerity.

"It's alright, Harry," Amelia mouthed, offering Harry a genuine smile, which had made him feel a little less shaky.

"And now, to Harry Potter- the Boy who Lived," Amelia began. "Unlike anybody else in this story, he didn't really have the opportunity to choose to fight Voldemort. For Voldemort chose him, singled him out amongst all comers as his equal. Harry proved him wrong. He was not Voldemort's equal- he was his better. None of us quite know what happened in the Muggle village of Little Hangleton on that fateful day five years ago, and Mr Potter has the right to keep that secret. What we do know, however, is that he fought bravely, and well, against the most powerful Wizard of the last century. We know that Harry died to save the people he loved, and it was that compassion that led to him, paradoxically, surviving death, even if that death was for just a few, brief moments..."

Harry subconsciously wiped his mouth upon being reminded, once again, that Snape had performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on him in that crumbling manor in Little Hangleton, which he had spent a good five years suppressing. Amelia continued.

"For this, we present Harry with a new award- in honour of Albus Dumbledore's group of warriors- the Order of Phoenix; First class, for bravery, compassion and, above all, love- something which we could all do with understanding a little bit more."

The crowd erupted into applause and Harry was handed a shining gold medal in the shape of a phoenix, and hugged by Ameline Bones, who seemed to have forgotten all the decorum of shaking hands and retaining a respectful distance; for this, Harry was grateful. He smiled, managed to stammer out a 'thank you', and then made his way back to his seat in a far more confident, purposeful manner than he had gone up. As he sat down, Persephone couldn't hide her cheeky smile.

"There you go- it wasn't that bad, after all, was it?" she teased.

The final part of the ceremony was the two minute silence to honour those who had died in service against Voldemort, and also his victims who had done nothing except be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Harry felt a stab of guilt and grief at this; a quick sideways glance at Persephone told him she felt it more acutely than he did. He knew, without needing any Legilmency skills, that she was thinking of Tonks.

Then, it was all over. The congregation started to make their way towards the bar and buffet- the one area of social life where both Muggles and Wizards converge in their enthusiasm for it. Mind you, a Wizard buffet was a lot better than a Muggle one, for the snack supply kept replenishing itself, and it remained as piping hot as when it was cooked. Harry could smell the garlic bread from where he stood, and his stomach reminded him that this was a very good thing.

Persephone remained in her seat, looking rather upset, and it shocked Harry.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gently. Persephone wiped her eyes, and looked up at him.

"I'm fine, Harry," she said, smiling. "Go and join your friends- I'll be with you in a minute. I... I need a few moments alone."

Harry gave her a quick hug, before leaving her in peace. As he wandered over to the bar, looking over his shoulder to check that Persephone hadn't started crying again, Lupin bumped into him.

"Hi, Harry- is Persephone alright?" he asked, looking concerned. Harry shook his head.

"She said she needed a bit of time alone," he explained. Lupin nodded, and walked over to where she was sitting, and silently put his arm around her.

Ron tapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on, Harry!" he urged, and Harry found himself swept towards the other attendees. To Harry's surprise, Benjamin Sampson was present, and looking a little squiffy.

"Hello there, Mr Potter!" he announced, a little too loudly.

"Hi, Ben," Harry replied, looking surprised. Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Why didn't you get an award?"

Sampson laughed.

"You're sweet, Harry," he said, pinching Harry's cheek with his thumb and forefinger. "Not many of the Brethren have- it's an award in itself, mind. It means we've managed to keep exact details of our involvement a special secret, see?" He leaned far too closely into Harry with these words. "Beau and Alex were working at your school, so they didn't escape." He grinned. "S'cool, though. I'm enjoying myself. I've had a lot to drink, and I've just punched a photographer who was asking me stupid questions about Beau and Severus' family relationship- I consider those key ingredients to a top night!"

Harry smiled, not really wanting to explain that it was only two thirty in the afternoon. He also noticed, and not without amusement, that Hermione was steadfastly avoiding Sampson; evidentially she remembered what happened the last time he overindulged.

Just as he was chatting away to Neville and Ron, Harry noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Snape had wandered off. Alex pushed past them- Harry spotted McGonagall cradling Pandora lovingly- and ran after him.

"What's up with her?" Ron asked. Harry jerked his head towards Snape.

"I think that's what's up," he replied, as he saw Snape hurl his Order of Merlin award into the sea from his position on the harbour, before walking away more speedily.

Neville looked staggered.

"What did he do that for?" he asked incredulously. "I'd have expected it to remain displayed in his classroom until the day he dies, just to remind his students of who's boss."

Luna sighed.

"It symbolises horrible memories," she said. Hermione, who had joined the conversation once Sampson had staggered off towards a few other Brethrenites that Harry didn't recognise, added her own thoughts.

"He's been trying to forget everything he's been thought, but he can't. That thing just serves to remind him further. I read a few articles on Muggle spies who return to normality after a while- they can't adjust. One man, after years of conditioning to be wary of anybody and everybody, snapped his daughter's arm in half when she snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. It wasn't malice- it was conditioning. Maybe Snape's finding it hard to break a few habits?"

Harry watched as Alex put her arms around her husband, and they embraced each other tightly. He shuddered, and returned to the conversation. The last thing he really wanted to visualise was Snape's physical relationship with his wife.

The remaining hours of the day passed in a pleasant mess of food, drink, conversation and, later on, dancing; mostly from Persephone, who seemed to have pulled herself together and was determined that the rest of the congregation should learn how to jive. The rest of the congregation were far from enthusiastic, but that didn't put Persephone off. Eventually, an equally drunk Sampson joined her, and they danced exuberantly. Fred and George found this hilarious, and proceeded to take photos which Harry wouldn't have been surprised at finding dotted around Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes to advertise their Inhibition Loss Solution. Hestia had cheered up at this display, and tried to drag Kingsley Shacklebolt onto the dance floor, who looked most ill-amused. Not deterred, she quickly found that Fred and George had both decided it would be fun, and the three of them tried to do a jive dance together that was really only designed for two. Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

"I don't know," Ron said uncomfortably, but Hermione shook her head as though trying to dislodge something from her hair.

"Nonsense," she said briskly, "now, drink up!"

Harry wandered over to the Bar, where Lupin was sitting, alone. Hagrid- his previous drinking companion- had been summoned to dance with Madame Maxine, and Harry had the impression she wasn't the sort of woman you said no to very often.

"Everything okay?" Harry asked, sitting on a bar stool next to him. Lupin was watching the dancing with vague interest, and apparently hadn't heard him.

"Remus?" Harry tried again, a little more loudly, and this time, Lupin snapped to attention.

"Oh, hello, Harry," he said. "Where's Ginny?"

"She's chatting to Luna," he replied. "Thought I'd leave them to it." Lupin nodded.

"It's been an interesting day, hasn't it?" he mused, as he rested his chin on his hand. Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he replied. "What were you talking to Hagrid about?"

Lupin blushed momentarily.

"Just... Many, many things," he replied, looking across at Persephone, who was currently being carried around the dance floor in a fireman's lift by Sampson, who looked in no state to be performing such feats of acrobatics.

Lupin downed a shot of something blue and strong-looking, and turned to look at Harry.

"Do you know what I'm thinking?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

"No," he replied. "I guess I could try Legilmency on you..."

"I'm thinking," he said, in a slight slur. "I'm thinking your shister ... really shuits short hair," he said, before adding. "I'm also thinking, that if I get up from thish chair, my legs might not take my weight."

"How much have you drunk, Remus?" Harry asked. Lupin looked around at the various glasses around his person.

"All thish," he said waving a hand towards the bar, and almost falling off his bar stool. Harry grabbed his arm, and put it over his shoulders.

"Come on, Remus," he said, gently easing Lupin into a standing position, whilst supporting his weight. "Let's go for a walk to clear your head, hmm?"

"Yesh. Yesh," Lupin reiterated, pointing at Harry, although he apparently couldn't quite decide where exactly Harry was, for his finger swayed all over the place. He grabbed another foul-smelling shot, downed it, and proclaimed, "Let'sh go!"

They walked along the quieter part of the harbour, where the waves lapped against the wooden port, and there were pretty areas of green shrubs and rocks around. It looked slightly eerie in the dark, but the balmy heat lessened the effect. Lupin was still resting on Harry's shoulders, attempting to sing a drinking song about bottles on a wall, and one falling off, only he never quite seemed to decide on the number of bottles that had started out on the wall to begin with, which made the whole process rather difficult, and painful for Harry. They walked around a secluded area of the harbour, only to bump into Snape and Alex, sitting at the water's edge, apparently engaged in gentle conversation.

"... It's okay, Severus. I understand, and I'm not going anywhere," Alex said, in soothing tones, whilst tucking a section of Snape's hair behind his ears. "I'm always going to be your wife. We can be messed up together. But we'll make great parents, too," she added, firmly.

Snape smiled, and squeezed her hand.

"That sounds a rather pleasant way to spend the rest of my years," he replied, softly. Alex smiled.

"I'm glad to hear it," she replied, resting her head against his shoulder. "We should probably head back soon, before Minerva cuddles Pandora to death. We can sneak off home then. I don't really want to hang around, either..."

It was around then that they both noticed Harry and Lupin; most likely because Lupin was still loudly trying to recall how many bottles he had started with before three fell off the wall.

"Ah, hello there!" Lupin announced, loudly. "Sheverush, Alexsh- how are you?"

"We're fine, Remus," Alex replied slowly, before making a gesture to Harry that he concluded was a request to know just how rip-roaringly drunk Lupin was. Harry made a gesture which he hoped conveyed, "Words cannot express," before Alex jumped to her feet. Lupin lurched forward and put his arm around Snape, who looked most ill pleased.

"Sheverush," Lupin announced, with a smile. "Sheverush, Sheverush, Sheverush... Well done, man. Jolly good show, and all. I'm proud. Very proud. Of all of ush!" he staggered a little, and Harry moved forward, for he was worried that Snape was going to push Lupin into the sea for his efforts at communication. Lupin seemed unperturbed by Snape's furious glare. He patted Snape heavily on the back.

"You... you." Lupin spoke more softly, pointing a wandering finger at Snape's nose while he spoke. "You!" His voice increased suddenly in volume. "You, my friend, are a sholdier..."

"A shoulder?" Snape enquired, icily. Lupin shook his head.

"No, no, no- a sholdier. A comrade, a... pershon. A very brave pershon, who played lotsh of parts, for lotsh of people, and I'm proud of you, for... for having ballsh of shteel!" He patted Snape on the back again. "Well done, shon. Well done..."

"Go away, Lupin," Snape drawled coldly. "I'm already choking from the fumes."

"I'm feeling inshpired," Lupin continued, ignoring Snape's icy tones. He stood up on wobbly legs and proclaimed, in less of a slur, "Do you know what I'm going to do? Do you know, Sheverush?" When no reply came, he continued. "I'll tell you. I'm going to go out there, and find your lovely daughter, and I'm going to kiss her- because, she looks like the sort of woman who needs to be kissed. A lot. And, by someone who knows how," he added, tapping Snape's nose with his wobbly finger on every other word. Snape looked as though he was going to hex Lupin into next week. Lupin stared at him, still waving his finger.

"And," he added, "I'm very. Very. Drunk." He nodded his head sharply, as though to demonstrate he had finished his speech. Alex rushed forward to catch him before he toppled off the harbour and into the sea.

"Come on, Remus," she said briskly, forcing his arm over her shoulders. "We're going to go and sober you up before my husband beats you to a bloody pulp- how does that sound, hmm?"

She looked at Snape.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said. With those words, she and Lupin walked off towards the party, presumably so that Alex could retrieve Pandora from the cooing masses as well.

Harry was left alone with Snape. He stood watching for a moment, before Snape, inexplicably, burst out laughing.

"That is the funniest thing I've seen all day," he remarked, to nobody in particular. "I do hope he tries- I've seen Persephone's right hook..." He trailed off upon noticing Harry.

"Oh," he said, with a mixture of disappointment and irritation. "You're still here, Potter."

Harry nodded.

"Well, I've not really got anywhere else to go," he said. Snape surveyed him coolly.

"Evidently," he replied. Without invitation- partly because he knew that was about as likely as Hell freezing over- Harry sat down next to Snape, and watched the waves lap at the edge of the wooden harbour.

"You threw your medal away," Harry said. "I saw you."

"What's it to you?" Snape spat. Harry shrugged.

"Nothing, really," he replied. Snape glared at him.

"Just because you wish to bask in your glory and parade it until your dying day, doesn't mean the rest of us do," he replied, coldly. "You've always loved the attention that has been heaped upon you..."

"I thought you were supposed to be a good Legilmens?" Harry pointed out. "If you were, you'd have realised I've always hated that attention."

Snape said nothing, so Harry continued.

"I rather thought you were the sort to parade your achievements- I was expecting that medal to be framed and hanging on your office door for all to see," he added. Snape shrugged.

"Seems you're rather a poor Legilmens, too," he replied. Harry looked out over the gentle waves again, waved his hand, and murmured, "Dextera; Accido Snape's medal." Within seconds, the wet, slimy silver medal with the words 'Order of Merlin, First Class' was sucked from the sea, and landed in Harry's lap. He handed it to Snape.

"I think you should keep this, sir," he said, thrusting the medal in Snape's lap. "Sometimes, reminders are good, even if they remind you of things you'd like to forget. There's generally a good reason why you can't," he said wisely. It was true- he had never been able to forget the death of his parents, and that desire for a family. It had led him to Persephone, to break her sacrifice, and to vanquish Voldemort.

"Things get better," Harry continued. "So it's okay to hate stuff you've done, or stuff that's happened, or stuff someone has done to you. That's life. There's loads of things I hate- I hate the Dursleys, I hated battling Voldemort, I hated seeing Malfoy's head get ripped from his shoulders, I hated..." He trailed off. "Thing is, they heal. Everything does."

"What about that?" Snape asked, and for once, his voice was not cold. He was pointing at Harry's lightening bolt scar. Harry shrugged.

"Well, it doesn't hurt anymore," he said. "That's as good a heal as I'm going to get."

Snape looked down at the waves. He appeared to be giving Harry's words some thought. Harry got up.

"I just think you shouldn't be so quick to throw away everything you did back then," he said. "It's led you where you are today..."

Snape looked up at him, whilst twirling the medal between his fingers.

"Thank you," he said, quietly. Harry, knowing Snape was not the type to enjoy drawn out platitudes, simply nodded, and walked away.

"Potter?" Snape's voice called. Harry turned around.

"Yes, sir?"

"I still can't stand you," he replied. Harry nodded.

"The feeling's entirely mutual, sir," he said, with a smile. For reasons Harry thought nobody but he and Snape would understand, Snape smiled back.

"Good luck," he added.

"You too," Harry replied, knowing the luck they both needed was of an entirely different kind.

As he walked away towards the party, his friends, and what remained of his family, Harry reached up and touched the lightening bolt scar on his forehead. It was true, what he had said to Snape- with no Voldemort around, it hadn't stung, burned or blinded him with pain for the past five years. Finally, it had become just a scar.