InsaneJournal

“I don’t want to stay here with boring old Grandpa!”

Hugo Weasley, not quite nine years old, folded his arms and glared at his father.

“Your grandpa isn’t boring. You’re usually crawling all over yourself to see him. You’re just angry that you can’t go with us.”

“Why can’t I go?” Hugo whined.

Ron rolled his eyes. “You spent most of last night vomiting, you’re still running a fever, you’ve had nothing but chicken broth today, and you have to ask? Grandpa is doing us a huge favour – he’s giving up going to Diagon Alley himself.”

“But I wanna go!” Hugo’s face was beginning to match his red hair. “I wanna help Rose pick out her wand! You promised!”

“The wand chooses the witch, not the other way ‘round,” Ron said in the kind of voice that made it quite clear he’d said it a few times too many already. “You know all about that – you went with James last year – I doubt you’ve forgotten that. And you’ll see Rose’s wand as soon as we get back. And don’t forget that she can’t use it yet.” Which is definitely a good thing, he thought.

“But Daaaaad!!!”

“Hugo – do you want me to send your mum up here?” Ron warned. It was obviously time for the big guns.

Hugo threw himself dramatically back on the bed so that he bounced a bit, then folded his arms across his chest and stuck out his lower lip obstinately.

“Fine. I’ll stay. But I’m not happy about it!”

Ron tousled his hair fondly while Hugo continued to scowl. “Grandpa is downstairs waiting to come up,” he said. “And he’s got a special book to read to you.”

Hugo rolled his eyes in a spot-on imitation of his father. “It better not have kissing,” he warned.

“Not all books have kissing,” Ron said, grinning. “And this is one your mum picked out, one that she liked when she was a girl. It’s not likely to have too much kissing, then, is it?”

Hugo just sighed. His dad was right. If it were his mum’s book, it probably wouldn’t have much kissing at all. But it was likely to have big words and very little fighting, too.

ooOoo


“The Prince’s Bride? Bride? This book is about a girl?” Hugo, head and shoulders propped on three pillows, comforter pulled up under his armpits, glared at his Grandpa Arthur.

“Well, actually no,” Arthur replied. “This book is about a princess who loves her soul mate, but marries a prince when she thinks her true love is dead, and they have all sorts of dangerous adventures and harrowing escapes from death.”

Hugo looked at Arthur suspiciously. “Really?”

“Really. Your mum told me all about it. And there are villains and a giant and pirates and ….”

“Pirates?”

Arthur smiled. “Well, we’d best get started with it. It’s a fairly long book, but it has lots of adventure in it.”

“And fighting?” Hugo still looked doubtful. He didn’t quite trust his mum when it came to books. She was sure to try to slip in something educational. “Dueling?”

Arthur smiled at his grandson fondly. “Lots of fighting,” he assured Hugo.

“What about kissing? Is there any kissing? I don’t like kissing.”

“If I find any kissing parts, I’ll skip right over them,” Arthur promised.

“You won’t just sneak them in thinking I’m not paying attention, will you?” asked Hugo.

Arthur sighed. “No, Hugo.” He opened the book then glanced up at Hugo. “But pay attention – you wouldn’t want to miss the scary parts.”

And Arthur commenced reading.

ooOoo


“Buttercup?” Hugo exclaimed. “That’s a really stupid name.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Hugo?” he warned.

“Alright.” Hugo capitulated. “Silly. It’s a pretty silly name.”

“It’s a flower. Like Rose. And Lily,” Arthur explained.

“But Rose and Lily are nice names. Buttercup doesn’t even sound real.”

“If you’d like, I’ll change it as I read. How about Molly?”

“Molly? That’s Grandma’s name. It can’t be Molly.”

“Hmm. How about Dunderhead?”

Hugo grinned.

ooOoo


“Wait – stop. Grandpa!”

Arthur looked up from the book. Hugo looked anxious.

“Westley sounds like Severus.”

“Oh?” Arthur kept a carefully constructed blank look on his face. He didn’t hear it himself but Hugo looked quite serious.

“It does. But in the story, Westley is a farm boy. He’s not a spy or the headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“Exactly. Not at all the same, despite the not-really-all-that-similar-names. Should I go on?”

“No – wait!” Hugo still looked anxious. “But Westley dies. I mean – he goes away, and Dunderhead thinks he’s dead. Because he promised to come back and he didn’t. And that sounds a lot like Uncle Harry.”

“Uncle Harry?” Arthur closed the book, keeping his finger in it to mark the page. “Since when are we talking about Uncle Harry?”

“Well….” Hugo’s voice trailed off. He looked sidelong at his grandpa. “You’re not still mad about it, are you? About Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny?”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “About Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny? Should I be?”

“No. No – you shouldn’t be. Lily isn’t angry, is she? And Albus and James aren’t very angry at all. They get to live with Uncle Harry and Uncle Severus and see Aunt Ginny in the off-season and go to all her games, too.”

Arthur squeezed Hugo’s foot through the covers. “Hugo, your Uncle Harry married your Aunt Ginny after he thought his true love had died. There’s nothing wrong with that at all. They were very good for each other, and had three beautiful children together. And why are we talking about them, again? We’re reading The Princess Bride, not The Tale of Harry and Severus.”

“No reason. Just keep reading.” Hugo was watching his grandpa much more closely now. He didn’t want him to skip any pages.

ooOoo


“Wait! I knew it. I knew it!” Hugo sat up very quickly. Arthur stopped reading.

“What? What did you know?”

“I knew Westley was Uncle Severus! Because he was dead, and Dunderhead was sad for a long while, but then he had to get over it. He found someone else to marry. It’s just – well, it’s just that Aunt Ginny isn’t quite so evil as Prince Humperdinck. But it’s the same, right? Because Uncle Harry didn’t have true love for her.”

“Hugo, I think you’re getting things a bit confused. And you really shouldn’t speak of your Aunt Ginny that way. She’s your father’s sister, and my daughter. She isn’t evil at all.”

Hugo wisely kept his mouth shut. Aunt Ginny wasn’t the favorite of his many Weasley aunts. She wasn’t exactly evil, but she’d really have preferred that Uncle Harry and Uncle Severus not come for the holidays at the Burrow. She sometimes made faces behind Uncle Severus’ back. Hugo didn’t think that was very kind of her.

“And I don’t remember Uncle Harry being kidnapped on his wedding day. I was there, after all. For both of his weddings, in fact.”

“Well, it’s not ‘xactly the same as the book,” said Hugo. His head hurt and he was getting a bit grumpy. “But Uncle Severus did come back from the dead, and he was in disguise and he was a pirate when he was gone. Albus and James told me and they would know these things!”

“Of course they would. Albus and James wouldn’t ever exaggerate.”

“Well, they know stuff. And they told us that –”

“Us?”

“Me and Lily.” Hugo rolled his eyes. “Grandpa – stop interrupting, please.”

Arthur obligingly closed his mouth. This was turning out to be quite an entertaining morning.

“So, Al and James say that Uncle Severus was the captain of a pirate ship in the Indian Ocean. He lived on an island with volcanoes called Cauldron Island and had a blue and yellow parrot named Scarhead that sat on his shoulder and spoke only Portuguese. And he never came back home because he thought Uncle Harry was dead, because he was supposed to die when he gave himself up and walked bravely into the Forbidden Forest to face his Ultimate Doom.”

“Al and James told you that?” Arthur asked.

“Yes. No. I think so. It might have been Victoire and Dominique.”

Arthur thought Severus might have liked this version of his life better than being a lorry driver with amnesia.

“What else did your cousins tell you?” asked Arthur. Molly would certainly be interested in this.

“Well, they told me about Neville challenging Bella Tricks the Strange,” he said. He stood on the bed suddenly, and thrust out his hand as if holding a wand to Arthur’s forehead. “My name is Neville Longbottom. You killed my father. Prepare to die!”

“Ahh.” Arthur pushed the pretend wand away from his forehead. They’d been fairly successful, so far anyway, in keeping the true story of Bellatrix’s demise from the grandchildren.

“It’s a really good story,” Hugo said, sitting back down and tucking himself in under the covers.

“It is indeed. Perhaps I should continue?”

ooOoo


Arthur paused. “Are you all right, Hugo?”

“What? No. Yes. I mean, I’m fine. Keep reading.”

“Princess Dunderhead doesn’t get eaten by the eels.”

“I know. Besides, there aren’t any in the Black Lake.”

Arthur looked back at the book. “Black Lake? Of course not. But this ship isn’t on the Black....”

“Because there are merpeople. Not eels. And I’m pretty sure they do shriek, though. James says Uncle Harry nearly died at Hogwarts when he was attacked by merpeople.”

Arthur raised his voice and continued reading. “Then Inigo said, Look! He's right on top of us! I wonder if he's using the same wind we are using….”

ooOoo


“Wait – Grandpa…”

Arthur paused – again.

“Are you worried about this part, Hugo? Because you must know by now that everything turns out fine at the end.”

“No – I’m not worried, Grandpa.” Hugo looked a bit askance at Arthur as if chastising him for the mere suggestion. “It’s just that Uncle Severus would know which cup was poisoned. He’s a Potions master. He’s the best one in the world.”

“Well – yes. He’s very, very good, isn’t he? And I agree. He’d probably have known. But Hugo, this isn’t a story about….”

“So why didn’t he do what Westley did, really? Why didn’t he build up an immunity to Nagini’s venom like Westley did to the iocane powder? Then he might have found Harry sooner.”

Arthur considered before answering. “Well, to build up an immunity, he’d have needed Nagini’s venom. And the Dark Lord didn’t exactly leave Nagini sitting around for experimentation, did he? Besides – if Severus would have found Harry earlier, it’s very likely he’d not have married your Aunt Ginny and had your cousins James and Al and Lily.”

“But he might have had different children with Uncle Severus, right? Maybe a boy exactly my age.”

“Um – perhaps,” answered Arthur, making a mental note to suggest that Ron have a chat with his son sooner rather than later regarding human reproduction.

ooOoo


“Then Dunderhead said, Move? You’re alive! If you want, I can fly.

Whereupon Westley answered, I told you I would always come for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?

Well, you were dead, Dunderhead answered.

Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.

Dunderhead threw her arms around Westley. I will never doubt again.

There will never be a need, said Westley.

And now, they begin to kiss; it’s a tender kiss, tender and loving and gentle and –”

“Oh no. No, please.” Hugo made a horrible face, like he’d just eaten a Rotten Eggs Bertie Botts Every-Flavoured Bean.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That’s kissing. You said there wouldn’t be any kissing.”

“Well, you’ve seen your Uncle Severus kiss your Uncle Harry before, haven’t you?”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “But Grandpa, Uncle Severus wouldn’t say those kind of things,” Hugo said with a sigh.

“You do realise this isn’t about Uncle Severus and Uncle Harry, don’t you?”

Hugo giggled.

“I can’t wait to call Uncle Harry ‘Buttercup.’”

“As you wish.”

ooOoo


“Are you sure that blast-ended skrewts aren’t rodents?” Hugo rubbed his eyes and blinked. He really didn’t want to fall asleep now.

“Quite sure. Rodents have fur, and sharp incisors.” Arthur made an angry rodent face for his grandson.

Hugo giggled.

“Well, I don’t think it went like that for Uncle Harry and Uncle Severus,” he protested. “It was a forest, not a swamp. And there were overgrown blast-ended skrewts, not Rodents of Unusual Size. And Uncle Harry was racing in to save Uncle Severus, not the other way around. “

Well, that was more or less correct anyway. Memory returning in fits and spurts, Severus had managed to get to the Forbidden Forest on his own, ten years after his apparent death in the Shrieking Shack. And he had had an unfortunate encounter with a rogue band of blast-ended skrewts that Hagrid had, until that point, managed to keep hidden from the rest of polite Wizarding society. Harry had been at Hogwarts that summer, helping the Ministry make a sweep of the Forbidden Forest looking for illegal unicorn hunters, when they’d heard the man’s cries for help.

“And what about Fezzik?” Hugo asked suddenly.

“Fezzik?” Arthur said, confused. “What about him?”

“Well, he’s Hagrid, of course,” said Hugo.

“I think we’re getting a bit mixed up,” Arthur tried to clarify.

“Just keep reading, Grandpa,” commanded Hugo with a yawn.

ooOoo


“So they tortured Westley?” said Hugo. “That sounds horrible.”

“Prince Humperdinck really wanted him dead,” explained Arthur.

“And Buttercup – I mean Dunderhead – was going to kill herself?”

“She couldn’t bear the thought of living without her true love.”

“I’m glad Uncle Harry didn’t kill himself, then,” said Hugo. “Because he had to live a long time without his true love.”

“Your Uncle Harry loved Aunt Ginny quite a bit,” Arthur reminded him. “They were as happy as they could be for a time.”

“But not forever,” Hugo said. “Because of Uncle Severus.”

“It was rather romantic, actually,” Arthur said. Like almost any wizard or witch alive, he had an incredibly soft spot for soul mates. “Harry didn’t quite know what to do when he found Severus surrounded by all those mutant blast-ended skrewts.”

“I expect he kissed him,” said Hugo, making a face. “But I would have killed all the skrewts first.”

“They’re really hard to kill,” Arthur reminded Hugo. “Their hides are so thick that even stunning spells bounce off of them.”

“So what did Uncle Harry do?” Hugo’s eyes were wide.

“Conjured a cage for them,” Arthur said. “Then ran to Severus and helped him out of the tree. As I understand it, Severus was a mess. He’d been getting his memory back a little bit at a time, and it still came and went, but when he saw Harry again, everything seemed to fall together in his head.”

“And then they kissed, right?”

“I thought you didn’t want any kissing,” Arthur reminded him.

“Well, you don’t have to read it out loud,” Hugo said, backpedaling. “I just want to know if it happened.”

“I’m told that didn’t happen until several days later – once Ginny released him from his vows,” Arthur said with a smile. Despite the circumstances, he’d always been pleased that his daughter had recognized the soul mate bond and given Harry his freedom to marry Severus.

“Mum didn’t like it too much,” Hugo said. He’d crawled up and had settled himself in Arthur’s lap. “I mean, she didn’t like that Harry’s true love was an old man.”

“Didn’t she, now?” asked Arthur, remembering himself how his Muggle-born daughter-in-law had thought Harry, at seventeen, far too young for a man as old as Severus Snape. The matter of the doe and stag Patronuses had settled any remaining doubts Ronald had had, but Hermione was a harder sell indeed.

He didn’t think Severus would appreciate being called an old man, either, especially when he was only thirty-eight years old.

“No. She didn’t. I heard her talking to Aunt Luna ‘bout it once.” Hugo nestled down into his grandpa’s arms.

“Were you eavesdropping?” asked Arthur conspiratorially.

“Oh, no. They thought I was sleeping,” Hugo answered. “And Aunt Luna said wasn’t it so romantic that Harry had his Severus, his one true love, and Mum said that she was just glad that Harry wasn’t seventeen anymore because seventeen was far too young but then Dad came in and reminded her that they were seventeen when they fell in love and then she said that she was eighteen thank you very much and she wasn’t in love with a man twice her age!”

Arthur hid a grin. Young Hugo was extremely adept at mimicking his mother.

“Would you like to hear the end of the story now?”

“Is there more kissing?” asked Hugo.

“What do you think?”

“I think there probably is,” answered Hugo. “But hopefully Inigo will find the six-fingered man first.”

ooOoo


“Neville is Uncle Harry’s really good friend,” Hugo said the next time Arthur paused. “He was the one who killed Voldemort’s snake.”

“He was,” confirmed Arthur. It still amazed him how easily this generation said the name Voldemort. “He cut its head off with the Sword of Gryffindor.”

“So he is Inigo. I thought so.” Hugo leaned back with a self-satisfied hmph.

“May I go on?” asked Arthur. “We’re almost to the end.”

Hugo sighed. “I bet the end means more kissing.”

ooOoo


They rode to freedom. And as dawn arose, Westley and Buttercup – I mean Dunderhead - knew they were safe. A wave of love swept over them. And as they reached for each other…

“Grandpa?”

Arthur smiled and closed the book. “Yes, Hugo?”

“Is Grandma Molly your one true love?”

“She is. She’s always been.”

“So why do people pay so much attention to Uncle Harry and Uncle Severus? What’s so special about them if everyone has a one true love?”

“Not everyone has a one true love, Hugo. And some people have them but never find them. Uncle Harry and Uncle Severus are special because – well, because of who they are, I suppose, and what they sacrificed.”

“Like Wesley and Buttercup?”

“Hmmm….perhaps.” Arthur paused, considering for a moment how to proceed. The Weasley grandchildren, as a rule, were not weaned on stories of the Order of the Phoenix, or the Weasleys’ contributions to the war and the defeat of Voldemort. What Hugo knew, in fact, about his parents’ role in the destruction of Voldemort, came in bits and pieces overheard, deductions made from vague answers to innocent questions.

If Hugo knew that a great dragon had escaped Gringotts with three people on its back, he had no idea that two of those people were his parents.

I want him to be a normal boy, at the very least as normal as possible, Harry had said when he held James in his arms the first time. He’ll get all the hype and the history once he gets to Hogwarts. Until then, let him be a child. A normal child who thinks his parents are perfectly normal, too.

And Arthur Weasley tucked his grandson into bed, kissed his forehead, and placed the book on the bedside table.

He stood there, gazing down at the sleepy child.

“Sweet dreams, Hugo.”

ooOoo


And Hugo dreams.

He dreams of Uncle Severus finally leaving the island on his ramshackle pirate ship with its Jolly Roger (in Slytherin colours) and with a great tattered sail filled with a magic wind. Sailing to England, making his way up the Thames, shooting his cannons to scare off the Beefeaters at the Tower of London who come after him in double-masted cutters. He dreams of Uncle Severus traveling across the skies toward Hogwarts on a rogue thestral, and hiding out in the Shrieking Shack where he had almost lost his life, then charging into the Forbidden Forest to find Harry’s resting place and getting attacked by Hagrid’s wild herd of blast-ended skrewts (each of them thirty feet long and now sporting, in their advanced age, prehensile antennas that were eight feet long and capable of strangling a giant).

He dreams of Uncle Harry, out in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid (who spoke in rhyme all the time), wearing his dashing Auror robes with his wand in a scabbard at his side, finding Uncle Severus and battling the skrewts one by one until they were piled up in a smoking, sizzling heap as tall as Hagrid and five times as wide (this was how it happened – no matter what Grandpa said about that boring cage).

And in his dream, Uncle Harry (standing, scratched and bruised and with the hair on one side of his head nearly singed off, triumphant atop the pile of skrewts) and Uncle Severus (still dressed as a pirate, great blue and yellow parrot flying circles around them and dive-bombing Hagrid) look at each other, and Uncle Harry’s heart swells up in his chest, and Uncle Severus’ face lights up like Hugo’s Dad’s does when Hugo’s mum says something particularly brilliant, which is pretty much all the time.

Harry? Uncle Severus dares to ask, trying very hard not to sound too hopeful because, after all, he thought Harry had died ten years ago in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle of Hogwarts and his eyesight isn’t getting any better with age.

Severus? Is that really you? Uncle Harry answers, eyes wide, not believing what he sees because, after all, he thought Severus had died ten years ago in the Shrieking Shack in the Battle of Hogwarts and he’s a bit wobbly after fighting all those screwts.

And Harry starts scrambling down from the mountain of smoking skrewt corpses while Severus starts climbing up, and they meet somewhere in the middle, and suddenly there is beautiful music and….

Hugo wakes up.

Kissing!

Hugo rubs tired eyes. His head still hurts.

“We missed you today.”

Hugo’s eyes open wide again. Uncle Harry is sitting on the chair next to the bed.

“Uncle Harry! I was – I was just – I was dreaming.”

Uncle Harry (wearing ordinary robes over his jeans, hair in a tail and not at all singed) smiles.

“Grandpa Arthur told me Al and James have been telling you stories.”

“Not just them!” Hugo quickly explains. He doesn’t want Al and James to be in trouble, though he doesn’t know why he bothers, really. They’re always in trouble, it seems. “Teddy too, and Victoire and Dominique.”

Uncle Harry smiles. “Would you like to hear the real story? I’m sure it’s not at all as interesting as Al and James’ version, though.”

“Is there kissing?” Hugo asks.

“Some,” answers Uncle Harry. “But I can leave it out if you’d like.”

“Maybe one kiss,” says Hugo, cautiously.

“Alright,” says Uncle Harry with a smile. “Ready?”

Hugo smiles back. He closes his eyes (it was easier to imagine and paint pictures in the sky with your eyes closed). “Ready.”

So Harry tells Hugo the real story.

How he’d come to know Uncle Severus, who was Professor Snape back then, when he was a sixth year at Hogwarts. And over time he’d come to understand that Uncle Severus wasn’t a mean old evil snarky greasy git (those were actually Dad’s words – Uncle Harry didn’t say that), but a hero, who was spying on Voldemort for Headmaster Dumbledore, and had been a friend of Uncle Harry’s mum – had loved her, even (though of course they weren’t soul mates), and had vowed to avenge her death in any way he could.

And that way turned out to be protecting her son.

And at the end of that horrible year, Uncle Severus had fled to go back and pretend to join Voldemort (but of course he was still Dumbledore’s man), and Uncle Harry had fled too, on a mission for Dumbledore (because of course he, too, was still Dumbledore’s man). And at Grimmauld Place, where Uncle Harry hid out (and yes, I might as well tell you this since you’ll hear it once you get to Hogwarts I expect, your mum and your dad were both there with me), they found a portrait of a Hogwarts headmaster named Phineas Nigellus, whose portrait was also in the Hogwarts headmaster’s office.

And they took that portrait with them as they hid out that year, and completed the mission for Dumbledore. And Harry and Severus communicated through Phineas Nigellus, and grew to love each other even though they didn’t get to see each other. And the love was like a fire burning deep inside, and after a while, it was the only thing that warmed Harry when fear and dread and hopelessness froze his very soul.

And it got to the point that they knew when the other was in trouble, or hurt, or horribly scared, or committing some foolhardy act of bravery.

And they didn’t see each other until the very end – Severus knew they both had to die, but he wasn’t about to tell Harry that while there was still a shred of hope.

And in the end, in what very much seemed to be the end of all things, it seemed there wasn’t even a tiny shred of hope, and Harry found Severus just as the snake attacked him, and even Hugo’s mum, with her magic and the dittany and all the spells at her disposal, couldn’t save Harry’s true love.

But, in the very last moment, in the darkest of all the hours, Severus gave Harry his memories, so that Harry knew what he had to do to defeat the Dark Lord. And they looked into each other’s eyes, and because there was so much hurt, and pain, and bravery, they could practically hear each other’s thoughts, and they promised to wait for each other beyond the veil.

Then Harry left Severus here and went off to finish his quest, but things went very wrong for Voldemort, and very right for Harry, and Harry lived, and Voldemort died.

They never found Severus’ body. They all suspected that one of the Death Eaters had taken it, and given Severus a decent burial, thinking – as they should have – that Severus was one of them, and that the Ministry might not treat him kindly, even after death.

But what happened – really – as far as they can tell, anyway – is that their soul mate bond kept Severus alive – just barely alive – so that when someone found him there, he wasn’t dead at all.

“Like Westley!” Hugo exclaimed at this point. “Mostly dead, but that means slightly alive. I told Grandpa the book was about you and Uncle Severus and now I have proof! Did they take him to Miracle Max?”

And Harry smiled, and smoothed down his nephew’s hair, and went on with his story.

“Well, I suppose you could say there was a Miracle Max in our story. Severus was the headmaster of Hogwarts, and Hogwarts has very powerful magic. We don’t know what really happened – only that Severus had a backup plan. A Portkey to take him to his little house at Spinner’s End, and a loyal house-elf on one end to send him off and the other to care for him once he arrived.”

And, as Uncle Harry explained, they really didn’t know how Severus recovered, but he’d obviously been at a Muggle hospital, given that his scars showed the telltale traces of Muggle stitches, so they surmised that he’d ended up outside instead of inside, and had been found by a neighbor, and emergency services called.

But really – they didn’t know.

Only that Severus wasn’t the same. He knew he was Severus Snape because he’d been living in that house on and off his entire life, and the neighbors knew him, and told him who he was, and that he taught school most of the year at a public boarding school way up in Scotland. But in giving his memories to Harry, and in losing so much blood, he was weak, and very forgetful, as if the memories he still had didn’t all fit together properly. The books and other odd things in his house confused him sometimes, and delighted him at others. But no one ever came to check on him (they thought him dead, after all), and the public school in Scotland never called asking why he didn’t show up for the new term, so he enrolled – at old Mrs. Crane’s advice – in a school for lorry drivers. And he became a very good lorry driver, and saw all sorts of sights across the country and sometimes on the continent, but as the years went on, things started to fit together more in his head. And he remembered magic, but couldn’t make the stick he now knew was his wand do anything, and he remembered the magical place called Hogwarts, and most of all he now remembered Harry, but that Harry had to die, and he made his peace with that.

Except one day he knew he had to see where it happened. Had to get some closure. And he wanted very much to be at this place – and he saw it clearly in his head (his destination – the place where Harry died), and he was determined to get there, and he thought about it – deliberated – and then suddenly he was sucked through a narrow tube and dropped into the middle of a forest, right on top of a pack of mutant headless armadillos.

“Skrewts,” Hugo said, rather smugly, “Skrewts of Unusual Size.”

Harry chuckled. “Exactly.”

As it turned out, Harry was out in the Forbidden Forest at just exactly that moment, hunting the unicorn hunters, and he was with Hagrid, who was not speaking in rhyme (and never had), and they heard Severus’ screams and ran to help him and well, that was that, wasn’t it?

“What did you do?” breathed Hugo. “What did you do when you finally saw him right there? After you took care of the skrewts, of course.”

Uncle Harry sighed. His eyes looked very far away for a moment, then focused back on Hugo.

“Are you sure you want to hear this part?” he asked.

“Is there kissing?” asked Hugo with an exaggerated sigh.

“Not just then. Mainly there was a lot of shouting, and crying, and hugging. Lots of hugging.”

“What did Aunt Ginny think when she heard about it?” asked Hugo in a hushed sort of voice.

Harry smiled. “Your Aunt Ginny was in the Czech Republic. We’d not been living together much that past year, so I went to see her the next day to talk things over. We were both sad, because we’d had a happy life together, but –”

“But it wasn’t true love,” finished Hugo. “And death can’t stop true love – it can only delay it for a while.”

“You’re very wise, Hugo Weasley,” Harry said.

“Dad doesn’t think so,” said Hugo with a sigh. “He thinks I shouldn’t believe the older kids’ stories all the time.”

“Well, are you ready to hear about the kissing, then?” Harry asked. “It really is the best part.”

“You won’t tell the girls, will you?” Hugo asked. “That I asked about kissing?”

“Course not,” Harry answered. He leaned in. “And Hugo – there’s something you should know. Boys like kissing too.”

Hugo grinned. “Alright then.”

ooOoo


And two days after their first meeting in the Forbidden Forest, after they stared at each other, neither quite believing what he was seeing, they met again. This time, Harry came to visit Severus at his house at Spinner’s End. He knocked on the door, as a visitor should, and waited nervously until Severus himself opened the door.

“She released me,” Harry said. Severus narrowed his eyes. “From our marriage vows. She acknowledged our soul mate bond and let me go.”

He stared at Severus, suddenly nervous. Stared at his close-cut, graying hair, his piercing dark eyes, his hooked nose and the scars on his neck.

I love you and I’ve never even kissed you.

And Severus, for his part, equally nervous but doing a very good job of hiding it, master spy that he had been, looked at Harry with his bright green eyes and hair falling out of its tail and round spectacles and distinctive lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

I may have forgotten everything else but I know that I love you and I want to kiss you.

And they smiled at each other, and Harry took a step toward Severus, and Severus put his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him close -

“La la la la la la la la,” chanted Hugo, pressing his palms to his ears.

Harry raised an eyebrow and stared holes into Hugo’s head until Hugo stopped.

“Are you ready for this?” asked Harry.

“I think so,” answered Hugo.

“Be brave,” said Harry.

Hugo took a deep breath. “Alright – go.”

"Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. And this one – this one left them all behind."

Hugo’s eyes widened.

“That’s all?”

“All? It was a pretty spectacular kiss, Hugo.”

“But that’s all there is to tell? No smooching? No kissy noises? No tongues?”

“Where did you hear about tongues young man?”

“Teddy was telling James and Al and -”

“Teddy Remus Lupin!”

And Uncle Harry was up and gone, and Hugo slid under the covers, and there was a bit of shouting downstairs, and everything felt right in the house again.

Except – except that he just couldn’t stop thinking about kissing.