A Convivial Requiem

Chapter 1: In Good Spirits

"The movers are able to transport the small things in time for the house-warming party on Saturday," said Harry, tossing a sweet smile at his fiancee Ginny before picking up some boxes from the back of the movers truck, and stacking it on the trolley.

"Mm. Finally, our own place, after two years," said Ginny, momentarily ditching the mass of trunks and cardboard boxes from the back of the car she was facing, the view her feet found in the spot right in front of the cobblestone pathway led up to the entrance of the lobby, and to the stacky old block that contained their new flat.

"It is. This. You. Couldn't be a better arrangement," said Harry, pulling his fiancee in. They kissed for a brief few moments, then broke apart, their chortles and giggles breaking the chilly November air with happiness.

Little, did he know how undoubtedly and woefully wrong that statement would be.

.

"The rangehood's already installed in the kitchen!"

Cheerful echoes, slam of doors thrown open, jovial wind whistling past the window outside. The flat was alive with the sounds of new acquisition.

"I'm coming up!" Harry was beginning to find transporting boxes to their level three flat, when the elevator was broken and the stairs were all they had, rather rendered the trolley useless.

"The bedroom's bigger than I thought it would be!"

"I wish I could see," he muttered. Three dastard steps separated him and his glorious bounty of nine boxes atop the trolley (which was more like a box number ten underneath all the other boxes) to the enthralling entrance where he would begin the next five or six years of his life, starting this second year of auror training, whilst Ginny was starting her first training for the Holyhead Harpies.

"Do you mind if I check out the bathrooms?"

He too, wondered briefly what the en-suite might look like. "Yep. Go ahead! I'm almost there!"

The living room was just what it looked like from the pictures, if the piles and piles of furniture and appliances weren't there. The heavily emblazoned mantelpiece, was indeed, heavily emblazoned. The balcony's view, already looked nice from this distance. There were stacks of furniture left near the front to push into more organised piles near the walls, temporary groceries to unpack, dinner to make. It was all looking incredibly busy, but not without a touch of contentment, the war had passed, the last two years brought overflowing peace and prosperity, both to the wizarding world at large and his reality, to let the severe sorrows settle where they may, ambitions reawaken themselves for the future where they may have naturally bloomed, and for him to have truly, moved on and looked forward to life and the new adventures his upcoming 20s had to hold (he was still technically 19) as he let the view of the setting sun sink in for a couple moments longer, before turning around to better inspect the piles he had to move.

The all too hauntingly familiar features of a certain hook-nosed, shallow-faced, greasy-haired professor shimmered in all it's transparent glory.

"Professor Snape!" The mixture of abject horror and bewildering pleasant surprise - afterall, it had been two years since Harry saw any of his Hogwarts professors, including even the infamous Professor Snape to his memories, was not lost in his voice.

"Harry," the familiar dry note and sardonic pleasure was not lost in his. He had addressed Harry by his first name however, a recent development that sprung in place just before his timely death.

"I thought you were dead!"

"I came back as a spirit."

"I thought you moved on!"

"Evidently I have not." He regarded Harry with one eye open a crack, and the other closed in quiet boredom.

"You're stuck here for all eternity!" It was a wonder how Ginny hadn't heard the exchange from the en-suite yet.

"And your lifespan."

A long pause followed.

"I have so many questions."

"As do Iii Potter, as do I," said Snape, his gaze resting on the lack of smoke alarm, the high piles of furniture, and at last, coming to rest with an all too revered glance on his bare fourth finger.

Harry covered it with a yelp, "some questions are off-limits."

"Agreed. As with me," and then he closed his eyes, as if tired out by this recent interaction, paling as he flickered in tranquility somewhat, but contentedly stayed visible.

"Harry! You have to see this! The weather vane on the neighbour's block is visible from the shared bathroom! We have to take photos to document our memories! Isn't it great!" The true processing of what had just occurred came not a mere moment later, and the voice of Ginny excitedly shouting helped it along.

"GINNY! There's a magical phenomenon at play!" shouted Harry.

"Yes! I love the structure, love the layout, love the space! I really think we made the best decision to move here," said Ginny.

"Nooo! You really have to SEEEE it to BELIEVE it!"

"I don't bloody need to! It's called moving into a house in good spirits!" sang Ginny, from where Harry was able to glimpse her peering out the window at the giant shiny bronze rooster.

"Nooo! I'm telling you get in here right now before my eyes can't spot it anymore!"

"Harry, I think I better come to you," said Ginny, picking herself up from where she was standing in her revered spot and heading towards him.

Sweet suspense turned to palpable relief as Ginny joined him by the living room entrance mere few seconds later. "Ginny, do you-"

"I see it," she said, with a hard swallow.

"You know. Just fifteen minutes ago. New flat. Lovely place. I really did think we were moving into a new flat as prior-planned in good spirits," said Harry, struggling to control his voice a little as the minute moments of tension from the conversation with Snape burst out.

"Indeed," she said, nodding with a smile and a face that didn't change for the past couple of seconds.

"Is this a problem?" asking Harry, glancing between the still resting Snape and the ever-sweetly-smiling Ginny, who had still not seen it to change expression after these moments.

"Can be if you make it be," she said, frozen smiles. Harry was vividly reminded of his auror training. Silence is sometimes the best policy.

"What do we do about it?"

"We? You can have a lovely chat with Professor Snape and resolve your private affairs. I will be in the kitchen making dinner. Would you like a place at the table, sir?" asked Ginny, and Harry was briefly hit with the realisation that while Snape had been...whatever it was that tied them together whilst they both walked the earth with living bodies, he had just been a mere teacher, a mean one, but a professor and no more to her.

"I don't have private affairs with Snape!" said Harry.

"As a matter of fact. There are a few things to discuss, which is better resolved here, than have your ignoramus, baffooning, bumbling ass peddle the details out in a frenzied state of dull confusion later. Should I have even any inkling of patience nor energy after this."

Harry was aware he had his mouth open in an 'o' shape, which was probably making him look like a chimp and severely unattractive to his fiancee. He corrected it in an instant, still stumbling over words, the grumble of his stomach alerted him to the fact that dinner could probably be underway more quickly if he chose it to. "But Ginny. He's a ghost-" to which Snape made an apparent tutting sound, "-he doesn't eat."

"No. I know. But it's still nice to sit at a communal meal together," said Ginny, as she prepared to head off to the kitchens.

"As it is. I think he needs you to himself after this conversation," said Snape.

"I'll see to it," said Ginny, coming over to peck Harry on the lips before rubbing his shoulder gently, "I'll be in the kitchen. Give it half an hour before anything's done most likely. Call me if you need anything. Tea perhaps."

Harry gaped, if there was any tea at the present moment he would have spluttered on it.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, one last evanescent smile before she turned herself around and walked to the kitchens. Harry could have sworn she wore a smile of faint relief and an uttered 'score' under her breath as she walked away.

He turned back to Snape, who had held out an arm where an opalescent flute of champagne was held tucked between his fingers, elegantly, if Harry had to be honest.

"Shouldn't have said no to the tea. Here's a toast to the house. In good spirits. As am I glad you two decided to move here."

"That's champagne," Harry couldn't help correcting himself.

Snape gave a long piercingly penetrative stare at Harry. "Oh I'm sorry," he said, snapping his fingers and a luminous mug of something foggy and steaming rose from the top, "The boy who lived who cannot handle basic introductions and has to run to his fiancee notes the difference between champagne and tea."

Harry, for all his attempts at keeping his cool throughout what had apparently been a very long and tiresome day, couldn't help but go, "what else can you do?"

Snape regarded Harry coolly with his eyes, "there is time for foolish questions later. For now, I think I am able to impart what little meaningful information I have to say, if at all, about our current living arrangements, to you in the short space of time between now and your dinnertime. We are in for, how to say it, a short and long chat all at the same time," he said, sipping from his transparent mug, the wafts of steam drifting across his face as if in real life.

"I wish I had champagne," said Harry.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and please please review! It's a new story after a long hiatus from fanfiction that I was undecided about putting up or not, because on the one hand, my updating schedule is unfortunately sporadic and infrequent as of now :'((, but on the other hand, I had this brain fart in my head for a while and really wanted to write it! You probably don't know how much it means to me, but a review for this chapter would honestly mean a lot to me! Thanks for reading and hope you have all have a brilliant day!

-WhymsicalBell