***Chapter Eighteen***

Albus wasn't sure what happened, or why, but he knew without a doubt that he had finally succeeded in both of his goals. He hadn't known, of course, that he, his brother, and his sister had any goals when they embarked upon this adventure.

And despite it all, despite the many attempts and failures, he did consider it an adventure. One that he knew no one else would ever get to experience.

Voldemort was not returning.

Severus Snape was not only alive but his mate had found him.

The wheels had been set in motion for his mentee to take his position. The only thing he had left was to ensure all of his loose ends were tied up.

He was ready.

Whatever the Fates had in store for him. Pleasant or not, he would accept their verdict. He had lived several lifetimes, and knew that it was time. He was secure in the knowledge that Hogwarts was in good hands to ensure it saw a productive and rich future. That it would be there for students to learn at when the time came for he, his brother, and his sister to learn.

Assuming they were born when that time in the future came. (For all he knew, they wouldn't be! He had told the Fates anything prior to this last bit of time alteration.) He had taught Severus to love the castle just as he did. He knew the wizard's mate would come to love it, too.

He had one thing left to do, to put with the things that would become Severus' when that time came. And then, well, he was ready to take a bit of a respite until the Fates decided it was time to call him home.

*****

My Dear Severus,

I will be gone by the time you read this as it will only reveal itself to you once I am gone. Burn it when you've finished reading it, though you will likely come to that conclusion on your own when you've made it to the end.

I am ready for whatever is coming. So please do not feel bad, or wonder if you could have done anything. And, as my decades-long friend, I know that you will feel as if you should have known to do something. I beg you not to go down that path. It will not do either of us any good. Please, instead, focus on your future. Hogwarts' future. The world's future. All of which are very bright, thanks to you.

I am tired, Severus. Weary.

And I am making this about me, when it shouldn't be.

I apologize. I have the tendency to do that, always have.

You are asking yourself for what.

It took me several attempts to get things right. To get our friendship right. Until this last time, we always became friends, but there was … distrust between us. Until this time, I hadn't tried from the beginning of your time at Hogwarts. To guide you to where you didn't become a follower of your own doing.

I could blame lots of things for that being the case, but the fault lies directly at my feet and my biases. The one thing you taught me this go around that I really hadn't until now, was to be attentive to all students, and that while some families may contribute more to Hogwarts than others. That doesn't give their children the right to act like imbeciles. I have tried to be and do better. I like to think this time I did better.

I have no doubt that you won't have to try.

Know that you were meant to live. Voldemort had finally been defeated after several attempts, but you had perished. I was given one more chance to make it right. I like to think this time that I made up for the other less than successful ones.

You survived. Your soul intact. You have formed friendships with not just Sirius and Remus, but have allowed Lily and James' son into your life. You have formed a friendship with him that I have no doubt will not only be important, but healing to everyone. All that aside, you found not just your mate, but your equal. I am so pleased that is so.

None of those things had ever occurred before. There had been no mate. You'd never been a peregrine falcon, and neither had your mate. At least that I know of. I've heard a muggle phrase "it takes a village". I tried to give you that this go around, even if for a long time I was the sole occupant of that village. Sadly, it was the way it had to be for victory to be achieved and your life not to get forfeit. And your soul to remain intact. I couldn't risk anyone else knowing. Loose lips can be deadly.

I look forward to witnessing all that you accomplish in the long life I know you have ahead of you. I look forward to seeing what difference a headmaster's wife makes in how things are run. And how much your mood improves as a result of having that one person you can not only talk to, but love and be loved in return.

You may believe I am talking in riddles. If you read between the lines, you know precisely what I'm implying. The device my siblings and I used is located in a compartment behind the muggle landscape portrait in the headmaster's quarters. Instructions are with it. Leave it be if you do not need it. You know the password to gain access to the compartment.

Know that I am incredibly proud of you. I mean that sincerely with no condescension intended. Until this time, I never gave your school years much thought. I'm ashamed to admit that. Now. I have no doubt if I'd noticed originally how willing and able to learn you were, I wouldn't have needed additional times to accomplish my task. All that we did, it was your information from all of the times I experienced that war that contributed to our victory.

Be well. And know that you deserve and earned everything you've achieved.

Severus read and reread the letter. It had appeared on his desk within minutes of the announcement that Albus had passed.

"Severus?" his wife asked.

She sounded legitimately concerned. It was only then, that tone in her voice, that made him realize he was crying. He hadn't even realized he'd started. He wasn't prone to crying. The last time he could remember doing so was the night Lily died. His two most influential friends were gone. Lily had been his only friend for far too long. That was no longer the case anymore with Albus, but the wizard was the only one who knew all of Severus' secrets. There were things he would tell Hermione if she asked, but she rarely did. She seemed to understand the day that he'd told her about his past, how they'd gotten to that point at that old abandoned estate, that there were things he left out. They were not things he didn't wish to share with her. Well, they were, because as a spy he'd done some foul things. She seemed to understand that, and contrary to every other thing in life, she did not ask questions. Occasionally, she would, if he had a bad dream. His evasive or quick answers frustrated her, but she accepted them for what they were.

"Leave us," he said to the portraits after taking a moment to collect himself. Not that any of them would be surprised to see him shed tears over the former headmaster.

They must have read the room, because not a one of them protested. Severus believed that was a first in all of the times he'd been coming to this office.

She was by his side without him having to even request it. They hadn't been married long. So it was still new to him, having someone fret and worry about him.

To care for him.

Love him.

And yes, she loved him for his mind and accomplishments. She loved all of him. His Snape nose never bothered her. (She called it regal. He didn't correct her. She wasn't daft, so he stopped being so cognizant of it. Or believing people were making fun of it and, therefore, him.)

He held the letter out to her, which she took and read.

"Oh," she said, having finished. As he had done, she went through to read it a second time immediately.

"Wow," she added.

"Yes," he said. "It explains that feeling I always had that he knew things."

He said this softly. Despite the portraits leaving, that didn't mean there wasn't one lurking just outside the frame to overhear them talking.

"I suppose so."

"And I suppose I should thank you," he murmured. Merlin. She'd done more for him than he ever realized. "Again."

"Thank me?"

"I don't pretend to think the Fates wanted me to survive for any other reason but because of you. I was drawn to the area you lived from the time you were in your mother's womb. It seems you very literally saved my life and soul without my ever knowing it." He shrugged. What a heady thought. "I'm not complaining," he added, realizing it could very well sound as if he was.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Of course she would ask that. Not because she was uncertain of her place and role in his life. He had done a very thorough job (and capable as it turned out) of ensuring she knew mates or not, there was no other witch he'd want. They'd taken their time getting to know one another without Hogwarts as a backdrop. She went to university and started working with St. Mungo's to bring behavioral health services to the magical world. There were times they didn't see one another for two to three weeks during those years. While it was strange, to both of them, it was necessary and, he thought, good. It allowed them to find out who they were, too, individually now that they knew.

As with anything new and seen as modern, not all were fond of the idea, but it gradually caught on. All Hogwarts professors were trained by his wife in identifying various symptoms that adolescents in particular could display. There was one on-hand counselor that any student could visit. He was hoping to add a second soon, because there were too many students for one counselor to handle. And, he'd been told that some students might prefer a male counselor over the female they had currently. (He hadn't imagined such a preference might exist. He would never have dreamt of wishing anyone but Poppy had cared for him, but times were different.)

So, no, she did not feel as if she was thrust upon him without a choice, but she knew he thought at times that he hadn't had a whole lot of say in a great many things. Of course he had. He didn't have to agree to Albus' scheme to spy. He could have done any number of things. There was no telling they wouldn't all have resulted in their paths crossing at some point as they seemed destined to do.

"I am positive. I don't think he knew about you, though. Not until I knew anyway. Or maybe shortly before I knew."

"I get that impression, too." She rested her head against his and sat on his leg. "He truly cared for you." This was merely a statement of fact. There was no surprise or pity in her voice. He appreciated that. It would be easy to go down the path of wondering if Albus ever cared for him, but Severus knew he had. Their relationship had not been conventional, but it was sincere.

"He did," he agreed.

"It sounds like you always won him over, but this time it happened sooner and more openly."

"I cannot fathom joining them willingly," he said, regarding the pale mark on his left arm that was currently resting on the edge of his desk.

He shuddered at the thought. Merlin. It sounded as if, however, timelines there'd been, he had always joined them willingly before this one.

Sadly, saying that he couldn't fathom it was somewhat of a lie.

He did see how easy it could be to succumb to Tom's enticements of knowledge and power. … If he hadn't already had an outlet for settling his curiosities. And a non-violent, non-soul staining way. Tom was very convincing, and knew what to say to each person. And Severus, prior to the headmaster's attention, was a lonely boy who would have eaten up the attention the death eaters bestowed upon him. And likely would not have retained Lily's friendship in any capacity. Those first few months of his first year, he had been on a path that might have led to her refusing to have anything to do with him. He hadn't seen it then, but he recognized it now.

She reached in, cupping his cheek before bussing the same spot with her lips. "You don't know the circumstances."

"You are right." He absolutely did not, but he'd lived it and knew the climate at the time to know that it very easily could have happened the way Albus knew it to happen previously.

She stood then, offering him her hand. He took it, and together they walked to a personal sitting room that they shared when they wanted to do paperwork together without interruption. There, there was a private fireplace. It wasn't connected to the floo network.

He read through it one last time, shaking his head as the information contained in it sunk in. It would be locked behind the shields he still kept up. Not quite as severe as during the war and Hermione's time as a student, but there were things no one could ever see.

This letter was now among those things.

She set her hand over his and he nodded. She started the fire, setting her hand over his wrist once she'd done so. No doubt she could feel with her fingertips resting against his pulse point that his heart rate was a bit high right now.

He sighed heavily, knowing Albus was right. He had to burn it. Other than this woman beside him, he wasn't sure anyone had ever said they were proud of him outright before. So it was tempting not to.

There, together, they tossed the letter into the fire, watching, their hands clasped together, as the parchment curled and twisted as it turned to ash.

"I suppose I'll have a lot to talk to him about when his portrait shows up."

"I suppose you will," she said softly.

He nodded, releasing her hand to draw her closer against him. He never thought he'd have this. Closeness. Someone who wanted to be near him. To be held by him. A home of his own, where he could create new - good - memories, that he was pretty sure was safe from interlopers and curious bystanders because of the decades long rumors that it was haunted. (Though they had lots of curious neighbors walk and drive by when they first moved in.)

"Let's go to our room and make a list of questions," he murmured.

She chuckled, turning in his arms. That was no hardship. "You hate lists," she murmured, sliding her arms around his neck.

"I do, but in this I think it could be helpful. Unlike a witch I know, I would not ask him all of them at once."

Her eyes lit up in amusement, so she knew he was teasing.

"And if we get distracted by other things, I wouldn't complain."

"You have no intention of making a list, do you?"

"Oh, I do. To paraphrase Elizabeth Barrett Browning, I'm going to list the ways I love you."

She blushed, but kissed him. He cast a spell to ensure the ashes were cool enough to transfer them into a trash receptacle. He didn't think there was such a thing as being too cautious on this.

"Let's go start on that project."

~The End~

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com