Author's Note: This is really short, somewhat OOC, has a really lame title and. . . I apologize. I just wanted to do something artistic with the new feelings provoked by the Deathly Hallows Part II. So much love for Snape, ugh. Please enjoy my pointless one-shot.

Harry Potter strode through the castle hallway, pleased with himself, finally coming to a stop in front of the familiar gargoyle statue, the very statue that provoked so many feelings of nostalgia and contentment. It was the last place on his list to visit before he left back for home with Ginny. Despite some of Harry's worst (and best) memories taking place here, he always relished in some comfort when revisiting Hogwarts, even in his aged state, particularly when visiting the previous office of his late Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

Harry often came to Hogwarts to check up on his sons, James and Albus, and suspected he would do so even more frequently next year when Lily was old enough. James was a troublemaker and though Albus was more quiet and studious, he could only guess what kind of shenanigans James had gotten him up to, for Albus so admired his older brother more than he cared to admit.

Harry had also made a point to frequent the portrait of Dumbledore hanging in the Headmaster's office, as it was a rather humble, pleasant way of speaking with him after his death. There was admittedly not as much to discuss as there had been twenty years ago, but Harry made do anyway, for Dumbledore had been one of his oldest and dearest friends, as well as his mentor.

"Pixie powderwings," Harry recited; he was one of the select few that had received the privilege of knowing the Headmaster's password whenever he should have liked to enter; it was only just, and there had been no question about it. The password was never, notably, nearly as entertaining as it had been when Dumbledore was in administration, but that couldn't be helped. It was just one of the unwritten constitutions that came with having a new Headmaster.

As Harry entered the office, a few of the portraits who had not been asleep stared at him, saying nothing, for they were all used to his visits by now, though often somewhat frayed and irritable (these were all older Headmasters who appreciated the boy's accomplishments but had not been alive to experience them fully and could care very much less about whether or not he gave the painting of Dumbledore a complete run-down of his summer while they were enjoying the silence). Harry smiled to himself, tipping his head to most that he walked by, and stopped at the frame of Dumbledore. The office was empty otherwise; the current Headmaster had taken the holidays off in favor of spending time outside of Hogwarts.

Much to his disappointment, Dumbledore's frame was empty. Harry stared at it expectantly for a few moments, for sometimes Dumbledore realized he was there and took a bit of time to come. . . but nobody came, and Harry suspected that perhaps he was visiting another portrait after all.

"Albus isn't here," said the voice of an old wizard suddenly, and another Headmistress replied curtly, "He's had the privilege of being absent these past few days, the con. . . "

Harry gave a sideways smirk- it was alright, he would come and visit another time. "That's alright, er, thank you, sir, and madame. . . "

Before he could turn to leave, however, the familiar drawling voice addressed him coolly.

"Harry Potter," iced the voice of Severus Snape, and Harry, the smirk renewed, turned around to face the portrait; a rather dark and subtly painted picture with lots of black and green, resting in a tasteful frame of ebony. It was fitting. Snape was looking at him, a copy of Advanced Potion Making tucked softly yet notably under his arm; he was not smiling, there was no gleam in his eyes and he had the same crooked nose as before; yet Harry had been expecting no less. Though any animosity he had once held for his previously most hated teacher was completely gone, Severus Snape would become affectionate as soon as Hermione would cancel her library membership in favor of Quidditch. Harry had frequented Snape's portrait alongside Dumbledore's, though little was said in favor of a mutual understanding they held- Harry could never thank Snape enough for what he had done, not even if he tried. (Which he had, of course) And though Snape was never quite beaming in his portrait. . . he looked more. . . relaxed, in a way; much more so than when he was living, and less likely to stalk around the castle if given the chance. He was calm and had done all he had needed to do in his lifetime, and now could rest easily in his death.

"Why must your offspring come and infiltrate these castle walls, continuing to haunt me with those eyes of your's?" Snape continued, and then raised a brow.

"Ah," Harry said gently, his grin becoming wider at the thought of his son. "I see you've met Albus."

"Indeed," Snape replied, his upper lip curling slightly. "He. . . makes a point to. . . frequent here."

Harry laughed. "James puts him up to it, I guess. Or maybe he really is a troublemaker after all."

"I see nothing amusing about that," Snape deadpanned in a taciturn manner. "He is always inconveniencing the current Headmaster."

"No," Harry lied, his expression much less convincing than his tone; the grin would not go away, no matter how much he willed it to. "No, not at all."

There was a bit of a silence between the two, but it was not awkward- this was often how their conversations went.

"I hear he's brilliant at Potions, though," Harry noted, smirking up at Snape's portrait.

Snape blinked slowly and then raised both brows. "Surely you know I am no longer a teacher and have not much to do with that, Potter. If you would like me to award him points I must disappoint you, for I am told I'm no longer supposed to do that either," he quipped sarcastically, yet without malice.

"Just thought it was fitting, that's all. That he'd be rather good at Potions. Should take after his namesake in some way."

Snape was silent; he didn't quite understand. Though Harry and Snape had conversed many times over the years, he had not once told him of Albus's middle name. He had decided to surprise him at the right time.

"Albus Dumbledore was skilled at most things. . . " Snape started, unsurely.

"His name is Albus Severus," Harry said proudly. "Albus Severus Potter."

Again, silence.

"Named after the two greatest Headmasters at Hogwarts."

Snape, taken aback, merely blinked again.

"I'm surprised he hasn't told you while he was here," Harry joked, teasing Snape; he enjoyed doing so now, as he could appreciate Snape's demeanor as his humor- at least, Snape had changed in that way toward him.

Snape's nostrils flared a bit. "He spends too much time poking mercilessly at the Sorting Hat and the old phoenix. We have never spoken."

Harry shook his head and then dipped his head in respect. "I should probably get going, Ginny's waiting. Please tell Professor Dumbledore I came."

Snape nodded curtly, and Harry turned around to leave. He wanted to leave the conversation abruptly this time, in order to give Snape time to absorb what he had just told him; the fact that he had named the only son that had inherited Lily Potter's eyes after him was, probably, more than important news.

"So long, Professor," Harry said as he exited, and Snape's lip twitched at the corner, his mouth growing into a rare smile at the back of Harry's head.