The Potions Master and the Ravenclaw

The Battle of Hogwarts Part III

A/N: Here it is, y'all! The final two chapters! I hope you aren't disappointed. Haha! Let me know what you think! Love you all!

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Severus Snape opened his eyes.

There was a fog. A haze. A misty, otherworldly vapor like none he had ever seen.

He blinked slowly. He realized he was lying upon some surface, neither warm nor cold.

He sat up.

Where was he? Was he dead? He must be, surely. Nagini had killed him. He put his hand to his neck, but it was whole - the smooth skin unmarked by the fangs of the Dark Lord's snake. He looked down and realized he was unclothed, and his body was clean and unscarred. He rose to his feet and looked around, curious but unafraid. There was a peace here. A calm. He sensed no threat.

Then he heard it.

A baby. A baby crying.

Snape suddenly wished he were clothed, and robes appeared right before his eyes. How strange that they came to him just he needed them. They were spotless and white. Soft and warm. He put them on and moved toward the sound of the crying child, and the ethereal vapor cleared, revealing his surroundings as the cries grew louder.  The place was open and spacious with a great domed glass ceiling. It was pristine and bright.

And then he saw it.

A baby. A baby lying in a basket.

He was beautiful. His chubby cheeks were rosy pink against exceptionally fair skin, and his hair and eyes were black as night. He had a long nose and perfectly red lips. His little fists were clenched as he fussed and squirmed underneath a blue blanket.

The child felt oddly familiar to Snape. He felt as if he knew him. He wondered momentarily if the baby was a younger version of himself, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. This baby was perfect. Snape was positive that he hadn't ever been so lovely.

He moved closer and carefully stroked the baby's cheek. Gods, he'd never touched anything so soft in his life. The baby stopped crying and looked up at him, grabbing Snape's finger in his tiny little hand. Snape smiled and the baby laughed - the most glorious sound that had ever reached his ears. He wanted to weep with joy and his heart swelled in his chest.

Then, Snape startled suddenly.

Footsteps.

He squinted, trying to discern the identity of the figure emerging in the distance.

Dumbledore.

Of course it was Dumbledore - sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of a silvery blue.

"Ah, Severus!" spoke the great wizard.

Snape turned back to the baby, inexorably drawn to him. He resented the intrusion, but he addressed Dumbledore as he looked down upon the child's face. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

Dumbledore did not answer but approached him and peered down at the baby in the basket. "Handsome little chap, isn't he?"

"Who is he?" asked Snape quietly.

"Who do you think he is?"

"Is it I?"

"No."

"Then... this is... my son?" Snape lifted his face and stared into the sparking blue of eyes of his friend.

Dumbledore smiled and tapped his own nose with his finger.

"My son," Snape whispered, and turned back to the boy. He lifted him out of the basket and held the infant to his chest. An emotion he'd never experienced washed over him and his eyes filled with tears as the child contentedly nuzzled his neck.