As promised, the last instalment of all.
Happy (belated) birthday, dearest Severus. I hope you now have been given the life worth dying for.

…

The autumn sunshine was as golden and flickering as a fleeting magical snitch. Throngs of young witches and wizards huddled together with their parents making their way, as casually as possible of course, to the barrier between the 9th and 10th platform on one of the busiest train stations in London.

King's Cross 9¾ platform was buzzing with noises. Friends catching up on stories. Parents chatting up how long summer had felt with the kids around. Students eagerly awaiting the red rickety train to arrive and whisk them away to the place where magic reigned pure and true.

But suddenly, all went still.

A young wizard with unruly jet black hair and a bright pair of green eyes stood clutching his father's hand tight, completely accustomed to the instant pause that always preceded their presence. He peered, half nervous, half excited, through his round-rimmed glasses, scanning for familiar faces he knew.

If the platform had been quiet, now it went dead silent. With the arrival of an imperial-looking witch, and her very blonde boy with his hair combed back neatly.

Oblivious to the intense energy charged through the air as all wizards and witches' eyes on the platform were irresistibly drawn to the new arrivals, the boy named Harry waved and called out cheerfully, "Draco! Over here!"

A snow-white owl resting in its silver cage atop of the boy's luggage was startled with the noise. He hooted indignantly and made his irritability known by picking at the nearest hand it could find. Two seconds later, its big round eyes grew twice the size, realising its fatal mistake, before cowering back down into the corner of the cage, having been given a death stare by the owner of that long finger.

The boy's terrifying father.

The stare seemed to continue to each of the many faces that were stealing glances between the two arriving families. And within seconds and a few awkward gulps, chatters resumed, almost too animatedly. Most eyes were fixed back onto their own companions, knowing fully well should they wish to keep their eyes intact, that was where their nosy orbs should remain throughout this coming hour.

Two suave-looking wizards appeared, swaggering behind little Draco Malfoy. Pinching his over-sized nose, Severus Snape let out a groan. "Merlin, what on earth are they doing here?"

His wife laughed. Her green eyes twinkled brightly, "Go on, Harry. Go see Draco and Aunt Narcissa. Say hi to Uncle Sirius and Uncle James for us too."

Seeing her only son dashing happily to his friend, Lily turned to her brooding husband, "Sirius is Draco's godfather, no?" Severus gave his patented eye roll before he broke into a smile as his wife pulled his arms around her. The scent of her flaming hair could still fill his heart with such joy, even after over a decade of marriage ...and one more lifetime, thought the father with a loving family - a title he was yet to fathom how a cursed soul like his could manage to earn such privilege. The mother of his own child continued, "I am glad Sirius is taking great care of Narcissa and young Draco. Never have I thought the Marauders can actually mature up."

Before her husband could sneer his reply, a voice rang through the air. "Oi! Take your greasy paws off her! There are kids around, mate."

Lifting his eyebrow and smirking smugly at his wife, clearly challenging her previous statement, Severus resumed his conceited drawl, "Hello, Potter. Pray tell, how does me marvelling at my beautiful wife any of your business?"

"Spoken like a true domesticated man, Severus. Evans still has you by the balls, eh?"

"It's dash-Snape. And it has been that way for over a decade now, James." A glint of mischief glowed in Lily's green eyes. She lowered her voice into a conspiratory whisper, making sure the children were out of earshot, "But If you must know, no, I do not have him, as you have crudely put, by the balls. However, I do enjoy those bits immensely too."

Chuckling loudly at his wife who had never failed to surprise him with her witty, almost brutely male-ish comebacks, Severus' smugness grew a hundred fold. He pulled her tighter against his chest as she continued to lecture the wizard whom she had once shared a very distant past. "James, you must do us all a favour. We are sick and tired of reading about your flavour of the month in the Daily Prophet! Just pick one or make your love life less public!"

They're not you... Berating himself for such a whiny sentimental slip of thought, James Potter - the Witch's Weekly's most eligible Head of Auror, was quick to correct himself, "What can I say? I'm a bloody catch!"

His brown eyes caught the sight of the black-haired boy, skipping back excitedly to his mother and… father. The Prince Charming's heart skipped a beat before it clenched itself a little too tightly. Taking a deep breath, James Potter regained his composure, blinking away the pain in his eyes, and reached the boy in question in two long strides.

"Quidditch. You must learn to play Quidditch, Harry. Your… dad was lousy at it, but I bet you will be awesome."

"You think so, Uncle James?"

"I know so, boy." James Potter ruffled the hair of a son he would never have wistfully. His eyes lingered on that pair of green orbs for a moment before the lone lion straightened up, sighed, and started towards throngs of paparazzi waiting eagerly with their cameras. "Okay. Gotta go make headlines." He waved his hands without looking back, "I can see I am not wanted here. Till we meet again, Snivellus Snape."

…

…

"You know he said that on purpose, right?" huffed Lily irritably.

Knowing fully well how painful what if's could be, and how the true Gryffindor heart James Potter possessed had once saved his life, Severus Snape had more than long let go of the past juvenile grudge, and grew to tolerate the verbal banter. He kissed his wife's forehead and whispered against her skin. "Yes. But I no longer have the need to snivel. So, I suppose I'll let him have that today."

A tuck at his customary black billowing robe caught the proud father's attention. He looked down. His jet black eyes met the identical pair of green ones staring at him intently. Behind that glow of happiness and excitement hid a barely concealed cloud of worry.

Sensing his son's anxiety, the tall wizard knelt down, levelling his face with the boy he loved with all his heart and asked gently, "Are you alright, son? You seem troubled."

Hand still clutched tight at his father's robe, Harry avoided Severus' knowing gaze and looked down, staring at absolutely nothing on the ground. Finally, he muttered almost inaudibly, "Dad… Draco says I could be sorted… into Gryffindor."

Smirking inside wildly, wishing to Merlin for his Gryffindor wife to hear their son's sole source of insecurity, the once Head of Slytherin kept his face still, smiling at his son a little too indulgently as he crooned, "Your mother is a Gryffindor. A Head Girl too. Wouldn't you like that?"

"But you are a Slytherin! Draco thinks he will be in Slytherin too! I…," the boy swallowed. Green eyes squeezed shut, before he allowed himself to voice out his deepest fear. "I don't want to be left... alone."

Realising the graveness of the situation, the wizard once sentenced to a lifetime of forced solitude by a tattered piece of garment and his own self-doubt gulped, berating himself for taking his own son's worry too lightly at first. His kind eyes, the look spared for only two people in the world, searched deeply into his son's as he spoke gently, "Harry, houses are just where you sleep. The power of true friendship far exceeds beyond any physical wall or any tower or even a dungeon."

Seeing still the streak of uncertainty, Severus cupped his only boy's face, locking his eyes with the only boy he would gladly give his life to keep that pair of eyes shining happily. His long fingers brushed Harry's unruly jet black hair as he added tenderly. "Who you are is always inside your heart, Harry. Not the house you belong to. You are my son. And I don't care where you will be."

The cloud in that pair of perfect green eyes, identical to his wife's, began to fade. Severus Snape took in that familiar face he loved dearly and a sparkle of memory surged. The veteran of many wars smiled at the thought of a particular teenage boy whom he had shared so many memories with, and whispered lovingly, "Besides, you yourself are named after a Gryffindor boy. And he was probably the bravest wizard I have ever known."

That younger face beamed back. Dark clouds of doubts casted away, leaving only his youthful carefree smile. The smile of an eleven-year-old boy with no weight of the wizarding world on his shoulder. "Okay, Dad. If you said so." The Boy-Who-Lived-His-Childhood-Happily hugged his father tight before running to give his smiling mother another squeeze, and hopped onto the train, joining his beckoning blonde friend.

Watching young Harry waving wildly from the train's many windows as Draco half dragged their boy along the corridor, the proud father was suddenly seized with a rare warm prickling around the corner of his eyes.

A second chance at life…

Even with all things said and done, Severus had never expected that his once frozen heart could expand and give back so much love. The memory of a life of the loathsome he once lived seemed so far away as if it had been just a bad dream.

Tucking away a strand of red hair caught in the wind, the wistful wizard rested his grateful eyes at the only witch who had always been his guiding light no matter what lifetime he had lived. "Thank you," muttered Severus softly as he wrapped his arms around Lily. "Thank you." ... For the second chance you have given me.

Her full smile lit up to her eyes; the smile that could always light up his world. The red-haired witch ran her fingers through her husband's jet black hair and caressed his proud face lovingly. "No, Sev. Thank you. You build all of this. You are all of this. And I can't be more grateful."

Their eyes met. And right there on the busy platform, Severus Snape felt no shame in kissing his beloved wife Lily Evans-Snape. Deeply. As hungrily as the first time both their lips had met.

Flashes from magical cameras lit up the platform like lightnings.

"Get a bloody room!" shouted a familiar voice.

"Don't worry, Potter, we will."

…

…

A freckled boy with the hair so bright barged into the mahogany cabin uninvited. Two boys, one with black hair and another blonde looked up from the snow owl they had been feeding, startled at the intrusion. But the redhead did not seem to notice. His blue eyes wide with excitement as he stuttered breathlessly. "Are you..? Are you-"

"Yes, I am Draco Malfoy. The Boy-Whose-Mother-Killed-You-Know-Who. Happy? Now move alo- Ouch!"

Frowning at his friend's antisocial behaviour, the traits his mother said to help easing Draco out of it, Harry elbowed his childhood friend a little too roughly and greeted the intruder. "Sorry about that. My mother says he is spoiled rotten. He is Draco and I am H-"

But before poor Harry could finish the introduction politely, the boy with too many freckles' attention was shifted to the flashes of camera outside the cabin's window. "Is... Is that the Head of Department of Mysteries and Master Healer of Dark Arts… snogging!?"

"Umm… yea," replied Harry dejectedly. "They do that a lot."

Realisation dawned on the intruding boy's face, and his jaw dropped. "Whoaaaaaa… You are Harry! You're their son! The Daily Prophet says your dad is the scariest Unspeakable ever led the Department of Mysteries, and your mum also is also the most mental Master Healer! I mean, who would have thought… they could… you know… snog?"

Rolling his grey eyes, ones just like his late father, Draco Malfoy drawled indignantly, clearly crossed with the intrusion. "They must have done some loving at some point, no? That's why Harry here can exist."

Ignoring the too haughty a blonde boy, the redhead sat himself down, still firing away non-stop. "How do you guys talk at home anyways? My dad says the Unspeakable cannot discuss their work, even with the family, right?"

"Well, Dad made sure Mum get clearance," replied Harry proudly. "He told me he persuaded them to see it his way. But I think that means he threatened them with some unspeakable consequences if they don't make the exception."

Grimacing at the thought of Unspeakable Snape threatening unspeakable things, the newest addition to the cabin still could not keep a lid on such a juicy subject. "So you know what he's researching then?"

"Yea. ...kind of."

"That is so utterly cool! Can you tell me!?" The thought of Unspeakable Snape crossed the boy's mind and he added meekly, "Will you dad kill me?"

"Merlin, are you mental?" cried Draco Malfoy sharply. "Uncle Severus will never lay hand anyone... himself." The blonde boy smiled his most mischievous grin and added venomously, "He will just have you killed, in your sleep!"

Blood drained from the freckled boy's face. Even his red hair seemed to lose its colour. Seeing that the new boy almost wet himself at the thought, kind-hearted Harry put an end to his friend's theatrics. "Stop it, Draco. Make some room so he can join us. Or I'll tell Dad you were nasty to other people."

"Whatever," snorted the young boy, trying to act nonchalant, but also moving to make space on the bench quite obediently. "Fine. You can sit here."

Harry could never quite understand why other people were so afraid of his parents. Or why his mother had told him that his father would rather be caught dead than having anyone, especially Uncle James and Uncle Sirius know that the most guarded subject matter he had been researching was… love. But he suppose he would learn that soon. Maybe at Hogwarts itself.

Turning to the red-haired boy who was settling into the cabin, Harry gave a polite reply. "I'm sorry. For the obvious reason, I can't tell you what my dad is working on, ah... I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, it's okay, mate. My mum warns me I talk too much and I always say the most inappropriate things. I am Ron, Ronald Wea-"

"With that carrot on top of your head, you need no introduction, Weasley." crooned the little master Malfoy slyly. His pale face remained smug for a second, before it lost its pompous edge immediately with Harry's stare.

Once again, turning his attention to Ronald, the black-haired boy with glare not very unlike his father's gave a small bow and extended his hand, "I'm Harry P. Snape."

Taking his new friend's hand, Ron Weasley shook it with a wide grin. "I am Ron Weasley." Once again, the curious boy could not help himself. "What's the P. for?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Dad told me it could be anything I wish it to be."

"That's just... bizarre." Ron looked at Draco for second opinion. And the blonde boy nodded in agreement. "I know. I told him that too."

The conversation was cut short by the sound of commotion in front of their door. A huge luggage almost bursting at the seams with books banged the door open, and three flabbergasted pairs of eyes searched for the second intruder of the day... to no avail.

A voice chimed from behind the luggage. This time it was a girl's voice.

"Oh, but I think I know!. I'm sorry I cannot help overhearing your conversation!" A tiny witch with massive curly hair peered from behind the massive luggage about the size of her whole body. She fired away at the speed of light. "If your last name is Snape, right? Then you must be a Prince. They are related, you know? I read that up in the History of Magic book. Quite a light read, I must say. Oh, and did you guys also know that we now will be shifting houses every year? We will get sorted first, but then they will rotate us around. I think it's Professor Dumbledore's new policy to promote inter-house relationship!"

"Ah… and you are?" Caught somewhere between being impressed and irritated, Ron Weasley stared curiously at the latest intruder who had just snatched the title of the biggest chatterbox away from him.

"Oh, pardon my manners. My name is Hermione Granger. I am what you call a muggle-born. You see, I am very new to this so I have read all the textbooks assigned already." Her tiny hand stretched out, extending to the speechless ginger-haired boy.

But it was Draco Malfoy who took her hand. He gave her his most gracious smile before bending down to kiss the new girl's hand gingerly. "Glad to finally make an acquaintance with some brains, Miss Granger."

Hermione's face was flushed redder than all the Weasley hair combined as she mumbled her reply, averting her big brown eyes from his grey ones. "Pleasure is all mine."

Rolling his eyes at the blonde dandy-to-be, Harry Whatever-P Snape grinned happily. He looked outside as the train shook itself forward. His mother's waving hands and his father smile grew further and further away. The boy sighed a happy sigh and whispered to himself.

"Hogwarts. Here we come."

…

A/N: And that concludes this epic story.
May our Severus forever find happiness here.