He took a deep breath before he stepped out of his rooms.

Their rooms.

Technically, they were her rooms now.

Interestingly, even though they'd moved closer to the library to accommodate her, the furnishings and colour scheme remained the same until she initiated that change.

This was ultimately their final hurdle. Nothing in Thomas' past had happened.

None that were known about anyway.

Severus imagined there were many things that were not known about, which was the reason for his deep breath of … apprehension tonight.

Had the wizard he'd raised for the past fifty-five years fooled them all?

Severus did not believe so, but he would breathe much easier knowing that Harry Potter would be raised by his parents. Until raising his own children, the right way, he hadn't truly understood how … different Harry might have likely been if he'd been raised by the people who should have raised him.

They were dressed in costumes, assuming that the party in the Great Hall would go on as expected. They both assumed that it would. There'd been no prophecies involving the Potters. There was no Dark Lord. Tom Riddle was, in fact, a productive and respected member of wizarding society with a wife, two children, and five grandchildren.

"You look good enough to eat," he murmured when he saw his wife, dressed in her Cleopatra-like gown and jewelry to make herself appear to be the Egyptian queen. She truly did. At seventy-one she was as fit and attractive as she always had been.

No doubt the work she did at their home was partially responsible for that. She wasn't vain, but he knew she worked at staying that way. Yes, a few pounds had been added. Curves were more now than they had been. None of these changes bothered him, though, and she was well aware of that fact by now. His worship of her body when they were in bed was no less thorough as twenty-five or fifty years ago.

"I'll leave that for you to take care of later," she quipped.

"Gladly, Wife," he said.

"You look quite delicious yourself," she said, eyes taking him in.

He'd turned ninety-one this January so was now closer to ninety-two. His hair was now gray with a few patches of his black still visible. He was still lean, though he had more pounds the same as she did. He knew there were wrinkles and lines where there had not been years before. Yet she demonstrated frequently that he was still attractive in her eyes. The fact that she still thought that astounded him. She wouldn't say something she didn't believe. He knew that by now.

He was dressed as a Roman servant. He didn't feel like parading around in royal finery tonight. Many years ago or not, happily married to another witch or not, the memory of this particular night was still a painful one. It had haunted him for many years.

She knew that, too, and had thought of a suitable costume combination to account for his mood. That she understood and accommodated him in this made him love her more. (That this many years into this she could still do things to make him do that humbled him.)

"Do I need to remain six paces behind you?"

"Only if you prefer the view from back there," she said with a haughty smile.

"You know that I do."

"Me, too," she said, eyes darkening.

"Let's go before we never leave and get gossiped about."

"As if that's anything new."

He chuckled. She wasn't wrong. There were pools for a few years after Willem on whether a sixth Prins child would come. "True, but we are supposed to be old and proper now, setting good examples and so forth."

"Oh, fiddlesticks, I say."

"Shall we then?"

"Yes."

He stepped down as the potions professor at the end of the past school year so that Albus could offer the job to his younger self.

Fool that he was, he almost hadn't taken it. Albus convinced him, though, that Erik Prins would only retire if his protege agreed to follow in his footsteps. Albus could be very convincing, so neither he nor Hermione were surprised his younger self ultimately took the job.

As a result, their quarters had been moved off the library, where Hermione had no intention of leaving her position as librarian anytime soon. They still had two spare bedrooms these days, which always seemed to be large enough to accommodate any and all of the grandchildren and great grandchildren still young enough to want to spend nights at Grandma and Grandpa's in the castle. Rarely did a week go by during the summer that their home wasn't full to the brim.

The Great Hall was appropriately decorated and bursting with spooky gaiety. Everyone was in good spirits, and those students fourth year and up were allowed to come. A third year could come if asked by an older student. That meant that three of their grandsons and one granddaughter, as well as a grandson who was a third year but had been asked by a fourth year, were in attendance. Only second year Steven was moping in his Ravenclaw common room.

They mingled, they danced, and they supervised. Severus no longer had to act as a member of the staff, but he still watched just the same. There was no taking decades of being a professor out of him. He knew the shenanigans students could get up to at these things! (He had in fact gotten up to a few himself as a student, both versions of him at that. He knew the same was true for his wife.)

"Oh, Erik," his wife whispered, a hand clutching his forearm gently.

"What?" he asked, glancing around them to see what had captured her attention.

"He looks so …"

"Oh," he said, glancing at his younger self.

He looked pathetic. Very out of his element, and as if he'd rather be anywhere but at this Halloween ball. Like his older self, the younger version of himself had left Hogwarts and gotten his apprenticeship. He was a little more social this go around, doing things with Remus more than a few times. There was even a group quidditch match outing that included James and Lily Potter as well as Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. He didn't get the impression Severus was any friendlier with them now than when they'd been in school together, but the fact that the six of them had spent hours at a quidditch match together clearly pointed to a better relationship than he'd ever had with them.

This was obviously straying from his memories. There was no Halloween ball his original go around on this date. So he had no clue what this new version of himself was actually thinking. His demeanour, though, suggested he'd rather be sticking his hands in centaur excrement than standing here watching everyone … have fun. He wasn't the only single professor, but he was the only one who was under the age of forty. So it bothered him more than it did the others.

"Yes."

"Would you be upset if I asked him to dance?"

He scoffed with a chuckle, which resulted in him being on the receiving end of an infamous Hermione Granger scowl.

What? Why was she looking at him that way?

And then it dawned on him. She wanted to dance with him and thought he'd mind? That surprised him, immensely. Both things were surprising, actually. He knew she watched and was attentive to the younger version of himself when he was in the library, both as a student and now, but he'd never gotten any inclination that she cared for him. He really was still pretty clueless on things at times.

"Oh, you're actually serious?"

"Why would you think I was joking about that?"

He shrugged. Why would he think she wasn't joking about approaching his younger self, in public, to dance? He thought it perhaps best to not say that, lest the scowl turn into something worse.

"I'm not sure he'll agree. You are aware we are not social creatures by nature, but go ahead and try if that is your wish."

"You didn't go for older women, is that what you're trying to say?"

He leaned in then, kissing her ear before whispering. "I couldn't have handled you at twenty-one, Love. I could barely handle you at thirty-seven!"

"Is that right?"

"It is."

"Hmm," she said. "I just. He looks so lonely."

"He likely is. This is, obviously, not anything I can speak to. I have no memory of dancing with Cleopatra, and I think I'd remember that even if she was old enough to be my grandmother, but obviously things are very different."

"Right," she said.

She watched him for a moment, silently ensuring that he was truly all right. He recognized the look well enough by now to know that was what she was doing. There was a time it would have bothered him. That he would have claimed he didn't want nor need anyone concerning themselves with his well being. He was wrong. Not with her asking his younger self to dance, but in general. Tonight. This. Here. The festivities. Evidently she was assured he was truly all right as she stepped away from him.

"Well, wish me luck," she said with a saucy wink and he scoffed.

+++

Severus watched as the librarian approached him. He actually glanced around him for a moment to see who Madam Prins was walking toward. It took him longer than it should have for him to realize she was about to approach him. No one had ever come up to him at one of these things, during his time as a student or now as a professor.

Remus had, but that was not unusual since they were friends.

This was a witch.

That was unusual.

"Happy Halloween, Professor Snape," she said with a smile.

He remembered her very well from his time as a student here. He wouldn't say that she was his favourite member of the staff, as that belonged to her husband.

She always had a smile and a kind word for him then, too. They'd had some interesting conversations about class subjects. There were times he was in the library, not quite in the mood to study. He just preferred the … silence her library offered. She seemed to recognize those moods and she'd bring tea over and they'd have a chat about this or that. The first time she'd done that he'd been skeptical, but as far as he knew she'd never told anyone what they talked about. Or complained to her husband or the headmaster about his interest in the Dark Arts.

She'd never treated him as lesser than, as if she believed because he was a student he didn't have an opinion to contribute. Or that his interest in those things made him … other than. He got enough of that from Lily over the years. He had no idea what she was afraid he was going to do. He just wanted … knowledge. It wasn't that long ago Grindelwald was running amok. Wasn't knowledge to be able to combat someone else like that evil wizard good? Did people assume there wouldn't be another one? The pureblood rhetoric wasn't as rampant as it had been during that time, but it was still … plentiful enough to be problematic. Lily had been lucky to have the friends she had, or she could have had it pretty bad.

What was more, he'd always gotten the impression that Madam Prins liked him, and more than just casually or to be nice. And that made her not just memorable but likable.

Witches didn't like him.

Even Lily didn't really seem to any longer. They were friends, yes, but it was different than before Hogwarts. She still didn't like that he had an interest in the Dark Arts. That he was able to create his own spells and had potion ideas that went above and beyond the curriculum. Things had gotten a bit better the past couple of years, seemingly because she saw that he wasn't out killing people or something. He'd never know he supposed, because she hadn't actually told him what her concerns were. He didn't think he came across as bad or evil, but he knew his mind took him down paths others didn't tread down.

At first, he'd looked closely for a reason for the librarian's kindness, only to realize eventually that she evidently just liked him and had no ulterior motive. She wasn't doing it for any reason other than that. A foreign concept to him since he'd never really had it before other than with Lily and then Remus.

"Madam Prins," he said with a polite bow of his head.

"You do know this is a ball, correct? And that dancing is not forbidden at such events?" she asked. The glean in her eye suggested she was … teasing him. Another thing people did not do, other than Remus. Most seemed scared of him. Again, it seemed others weren't able to create spells and potions as he could. A difference scared them.

"I am aware of that fact, yes," he said succinctly. He knew he sounded … sullen. "I don't see anyone lining up to allow me to be on their dance card."

He knew, of course, that wasn't how it worked. He was to approach the witch for a place on their dance card. He, however, had no one he cared to dance with. He wouldn't dare ask a student, and there were no professors even close to him in age for him to think of approaching.

"Well, I happen to have an open spot in mine currently. Would you care to indulge an old witch? It's been so long since Master Prins was twenty-something, I'm not sure I even remember what it was like."

He regarded his former professor, his mentor and the man he thought was a friend, all the way on the other side of the Great Hall. He thought for sure the man would be staring daggers at him or something. He was not and, in fact, looked more amused than anything. Odd. Then again, he supposed given the difference in their ages he probably felt pretty secure he wouldn't try to steal his wife away.

"Are you going to make me ask twice?" Madam Prins asked. She sounded as if she was teasing him again. However, he didn't wish to insult this witch.

"My apologies. I was just ensuring your husband was not going to challenge me to a duel." It was a joke, in part, but Erik Prins was a master dueler and not one to be trifled with. Certainly not over a dance at Hogwarts in front of the entire student body and staff.

"Nonsense," she said, glancing at said husband and giving him a wave. He shook his head, still looking amused. "Maybe it will give him some pep in his step later!"

He stared at her for a moment, certain she hadn't just said that to him. He decided not to analyze the statement too deeply and instead offered her his arm.

"Oh my, a gentleman. Thank you," she said, beaming at him. It was, he had to admit, a nice smile. She had nice eyes to go with it. The colour of his father's favorite whiskey he'd say if he had to compare them to something tangible.

"So are you enjoying your first year of teaching so far?" she asked.

"It's … different." He wasn't overly personable, so to have to be … nice to students was different. To not tell the Slytherins that they were behaving like imbeciles was difficult. He had to treat everyone fairly. Seven years of competing against the various houses, he now had to be fair - or at least equal - to everyone.

"I imagine it is. You are the youngest professor at Hogwarts if my research is correct."

"It is. I am."

Likely she knew it was. She was pretty meticulous from what he'd seen and experienced over the years. It was one of the things he found likable about her. If she told him something, recommended a book or something. There was a reason for it. She knew the library and Hogwarts very well. What was more, she seemed to understand him in a way few (if any but her husband truthfully) did.

"How flattering for you, and probably a little intimidating at the same time. Some of the older students will have remembered you as a student yourself."

"Yes." She was right. His reputation of being a loner, someone unable to really gain friends followed him. The only thing he had going for him, was those students who remembered him as a student, remembered he contributed a great deal of points to his Gryffindor house.

"Well, I haven't heard any complaints from my spot in the library yet."

"Good to know." Truly it was, and he suspected that if she had heard a complaint, she would tell him. In a … considerate way. So, he appreciated her words. "And your husband? How is he enjoying retirement?"

"Oh, he's as busy as ever. You've seen the lab at our house?"

"I have," he said, surprised she knew that. He'd gotten the impression Professor Prins hadn't told anyone he'd shown it to Severus. He'd been there more than a few times before, even as a student.

"I think he spends more time there than he did in the classroom."

"You are still working…"

"I am, as long as he's done at the end of the night, and I know where to find him, I'm fine with him keeping busy. He doesn't pester me that way when I have work to do and grandchildren to teach."

"I see Mr. Prins is here tonight," he said, gesturing with a nod to third year David Prins.

"Mm, yes," she said, looking around the hall to find her grandson. She evidently knew exactly which one he was referring to, too, because she immediately sought the third year Mr. Prins out. "Miss Howell asked him."

"Ah," he said. "He can do better," he murmured. Miss Howell was a bit … flighty, putting it kindly.

"You're absolutely right. I don't get the impression they're fond of one another beyond friends. Between you and me, I think he wanted to go to the dance because his sister and cousins could. Don't tell Erik that, though, I am enjoying him fretting over who David wants to court. I'll tell him eventually that there is no real interest there, on either part."

"Ah," he said with a nod of his head. He smirked a bit at that. It was one of the things he … liked about this couple. They joked with, teased, one another, and weren't afraid to let others see that.

"You are a good dancer, Professor."

"Severus, please. You are staff…" She was also his mentor's wife. As he thought earlier, he'd almost say Professor Prins was his friend. The only thing stopping him from declaring it so? He wasn't sure the feeling was reciprocated, so he had not quite given voice to that sentiment. It had only been a couple of years that they were no longer professor and student. He didn't want to make a fool of himself, making his professor feel bad that he'd allowed Severus to read more into their time together than it was.

"Then, Marie," she said, pausing over her name for a moment. "Please."

"And thank you. Professor McGonagall worked with all of us."

"Oh, right, she does enjoy doing that. However, just because someone works with you doesn't mean you can grasp it. You obviously did."

"Thank you, Marie."

"You are welcome."

The song finished and they bowed politely. She leaned in, kissing his cheek. "Thank you for indulging an old librarian, Severus."

"Thank you for saving me from a few minutes by the punchbowl."

"Ah, yes, best watch them," she said with a wink before making her way back to her husband who was still watching him. No jealousy or anything in his stance or the look. That was a relief.

"They are quite the couple, aren't they," Albus said from behind Severus.

"It would seem so," he said.

From the sounds of it, they'd been together for decades now. And still seemed happy to be so. He knew some older couples who, his parents among them, that wasn't true for. He'd had reason to observe them many times over the past ten years and, more than once, wondered if his mentor knew how lucky he was to have a woman look at him the way Marie did.

He'd hated them his first year or two as a student.

Well, not really.

Erik would visit her in the library sometimes when Severus was studying there. He'd bring her lunch or sit in while she was teaching their grandchildren off of her office. There were as many as eight or nine she taught while he was a student. His path had crossed at least eight of them while he was a student (some were at the end of their time there while he was at the beginning and some were at the beginning of theirs when he was finishing, so it could have been more than eight). They took in an additional four children the story went when they lost both parents during the second World War. And then had a fifth child of their own after taking on the additional four children.

He never found the knowledge lacking of those he'd gone to classes with, compared to those who had received formal education. All of their children were successful and seemed more than well adjusted. And happy.

He couldn't believe it when he had met Philip Prins! He'd written at least one song for The Beatles his mum loved. She would have been pretty jealous, if he'd ever cared to speak to her long enough to share that bit of information with her.

So, his first year or two, while Lily was brushing him off and getting closer to James Potter, he'd kind of hated them. They had what he wanted. What he assumed he would have with Lily. It made him wonder how he'd been so wrong!

If only that old man hadn't shown up. He knew it wasn't a coincidence Lily had told him within a day or two after that interfering bastard's visit to his house that they were only ever going to be friends. That he was her best friend, but that was all. She'd twisted the knife even more by saying it wasn't even just her, but her parents would never approve.

He'd been … devastated. It wasn't his fault his dad wasn't working!

He'd taught her all he knew about magic and Hogwarts, and she repaid him by blowing him off because. Well, he wasn't sure why. He could only assume because he didn't come from a family with money as she did and he wasn't much to look at.

He hadn't thought James Potter was much to look at either and assumed she'd come around and realize he was a better catch than Potter, no matter the money he had.

It had not happened.

And he'd been stuck helping his mentor making the potion for Remus that helped with his condition, listening to him talk to his wife. Listening to him kiss his wife. Oh, they were always polite to him. More than once when Professor Prins was in the library he invited Severus to join them. He never did. That would have looked even weirder to everyone else than him spending so much time in the library already did.

It didn't mean he didn't hate watching them, though. Did they have to be so … happy all of the time? Admittedly, he'd watched Erik kiss Marie more than once out of sheer fascination. He'd seen others do that, of course, but they'd been students. He'd never seen his parents kiss that he could recall. These two had been kissing for decades, and there was a loving simplicity to it that Severus envied. There was obvious affection even in the most chaste of kisses they gave one another.

Finally, about his third year he supposed. He realized when he got back to Hogwarts after the summer that it didn't … hurt anymore. He wasn't sure if she'd deliberately led him on, but he realized they'd been kids when they met. He looked around at others in the third year with them and realized falling in love with the first witch who'd ever shown him the time of day was pretty pathetic. And one of the things his father had tried to warn him about when it came to women. Of course, his father had been drunk and upset with his mother when the advice was passed on, so Severus had dismissed them as the drunk ravings of an unhappy man.

He did know that he did not want to be like his father.

He'd asked his dad once why he stayed if he was so miserable and the old man had said he'd made a vow and wouldn't break it. Admirable, he supposed, but he wanted more from life than being stuck or feeling obligated in things.

He could admit Potter and his two friends had … improved as they made it to their sixth and seventh years. The six of them: James, Peter, Sirius, Remus, Lily, and Severus had even studied for NEWTs together more than once. After school, they'd had dinners and even gone to a quidditch match once. He wasn't part of their group, and yet the six of them were by far the best known students of their house while students. So it made sense that post-Hogwarts they'd meet up once in a while.

He and Lily never got back to the friendship they'd had before Hogwarts. Before that interfering bastard showed up, but he did attend their wedding (alone) and had sent them a gift when their son Harry had been born last July. Looking back now, they weren't the only friends who'd grown apart. He wasn't the only one whose first love married someone else.

It was just a right of passage, he supposed. Some found it at Hogwarts, others (like him) weren't so lucky.

He did know that if he were to find a witch and trust her enough to want to marry her. He hoped she looked at him the way Marie looked at Erik. He would know then that her feelings were sincere. It was pretty obvious Erik felt the same way in return, too. And that was admirable in Severus' mind, and a far cry from how his parents looked at one another.

That was unusual for Severus, too, to see a man … express himself. Not just express himself but not seem to care if others saw. Erik was … somewhat stoic, as Severus was, so expressing himself was perhaps a misnomer. It was clear, though, when his eyes found his wife across a room or with the way he pulled her chair out for her when she took meals in the Great Hall with him that he not just cared for, but respected this woman. He saw it especially when just the two of them were in the lab, now Severus'. Occasionally, a grandchild would be staying the night and was more interested in what Grandpa and Mister Snape were doing versus staying in the library with their Grandma where they had to be quiet.

In the lab they had to be careful, but they could at least talk. And in the lab there were things to see and questions to ask.

Erik was always attentive to their questions. Occasionally, their questions would come at inopportune times with a sensitive potion that the steps had to be done exactly. He never lost his temper or even raised his voice, just explained that he would get to them in a moment. This patience was not always displayed in Erik's classroom, but his grandchildren didn't have their hands in cauldrons.

Severus had been on the receiving end of that same patience and tutelage. It was the reason he was as good at potions as he was. He was a natural, but Erik had taken his natural ability and honed it. They not just had similar work ethics but they thought alike. He'd wished when he graduated Hogwarts that his mentor would offer him an apprenticeship. He had worked very hard at getting him one, though. He could appreciate now that it was good to apprentice under someone he wasn't so familiar with. And vice versa.

"I'm glad Erik took you under his wing, Severus. You deserved someone like him."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Albus, please," he said. "Enjoy the rest of the evening, though, after such a charming dance partner you may find it difficult to top."

He chuckled as he walked toward another professor. He was clearly making the rounds, ensuring his staff weren't bombed out of their minds.

He looked around the room, spotted David Prince engaged in a conversation with his grandparents about something. Miss Howell didn't seem remotely interested in enticing him away from his family. There was a wizard who seemed interested in Nancy Prins, but he was being quite cautious tonight it seemed. The dirty looks he'd been on the receiving end of by Nancy's brother and cousins could have had something to do with that. Likely, too, the rumours that Erik Prins was no one anyone wanted to get in a duel with were in there, too. 

He'd seen Professor Prins duel several times over his time as a student. He knew he'd dueled professionally in the past but only did so now as an instructional tool. He'd never seen Madam Prins duel, but apparently she had with him years ago and it was said to have been pretty legendary.

He returned his attention to the punchbowl table with a heavy sigh then, wondering what it said that a seventy-year old's kiss to the cheek was the first he'd gotten in quite some time.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com