Chapter Text
For Albus Severus Potter, becoming best friends with Scorpius Malfoy was the easiest thing in the world. Since meeting in the small compartment of the Hogwarts Express, the blonde boy had shared with him a Chocolate Frog with Dumbledore's card, a portable Gobstones set, and a shared love for Muggle superhero movies. The next thing they were about to share was something unusual: curiosity of Severus Snape.
"Albus Severus," Scorpius said, staring at Albus’s school badge, his heart beginning to pound. "Your middle name is Severus. Is it the Severus I’m thinking of?".
"Which one are you thinking of? My dad said it’s the name of a Slytherin Headmaster," Albus replied. "So I assume it’s Severus Snape".
"So you know about him too?".
"Not really," Albus admitted, sticking his tongue out sheepishly. "A few days ago at the platform, Dad told me Snape was the bravest man he ever knew. But before that, he never mentioned Snape—though I’ve done my research". The green-eyed boy sounded proud. "He published two NEWT-level Potions textbooks, and there's a Potions research institute named after him. Other than that, there’s very little I could find. It wasn’t until this summer that I saw an old book about him at Flourish and Blotts by Rita Skeeter".
"Oh, that book," Scorpius said, pouting. "What’s written there isn't true at all. Uncle Severus saved many lives during the war, including my father's. He’s a hero...".
"Uncle Severus?".
"Oh," Scorpius’s cheeks flushed a faint pink. "My parents said if he were still here, they wanted him to be my godfather. In fact, I’ve been writing letters to him all these years". He looked at Albus nervously. "I know it sounds a bit strange, but...".
"Not strange at all," Albus sensed his friend’s unease and pat his shoulder to comfort him. "My godfather is Uncle Neville—uh, Professor Longbottom. I write to him often, too. Sometimes he invites me to his garden to tend to herbs. Don't tell him, but I actually think it’s quite boring; my favorite subject is Potions. I think if Snape were still here and you could do potions with him, that would be really cool. I’m sorry you don't have that chance".
Scorpius smiled gratefully. "I wish I could hear him—even if it was just his portrait—tell his own stories. I actually have been to his old house and searched it from top to bottom, but couldn't find a single photograph of him". He lowered his head, looking a bit dejected.
Albus thought for a moment, then suddenly slapped his thigh, startling his friend. "If he was Headmaster, then there must be his portrait here in Hogwarts!"
"But there isn't one in the library, all the corridors or the common room walls!".
"You’re looking in the wrong places," Albus said, his green eyes flashing with excitement. "My dad said the portraits of all previous Hogwarts Headmasters are hung on the walls of the Headmaster’s office". Words slipped quickly from Albus' tongue, "Since Snape was a Headmaster, they must have a portrait of him there. We should go there and try our luck".
"But how do we get in?".
"We go straight to the office door and knock," Albus said, already eager to go. "We’ll just say we’re lost—we're first-years anyway; McGonagall won't suspect a thing".
"Are you serious?" Scorpius asked, trying to stop himself from smiling and failed. "Do you really think he’ll talk to us?".
"It's worth trying anyway, isn’t it?".
Without delay, they slipped out of the Slytherin common room, climbing the stairs past ancient portraits while staying alert for Filch or Mrs. Norris. Outside the Headmaster’s office at the highest point of the castle, they heard voices from within:
"...I hear we have two Weasleys not in Gryffindor this year?" said an old, gentle male voice. Albus pulled Scorpius by the arm to sit against the wall, listening as another voice responded from the room:
"Yes," they recognized Headmistress McGonagall speaking. "Rose Granger-Weasley was sorted into Ravenclaw; and the boy named after you, Albus Potter, is in Slytherin". Hearing his friend's name, Scorpius nudged Albus’s arm.
"Ah," the old man’s voice chuckled. "Their parents probably need a bit of time to adjust—but then, the Sorting Hat has always understood the souls better than we do".
"Young Albus has adjusted quite well," the Headmistress said. "It’s only been a few days, he and the Malfoy boy are already inseparable—to be honest, looking at the two of them sitting together, I almost thought it was another version of 1991".
Albus turned to meet his friend’s eyes, the excitement of "they’re talking about us" shimmering between them.
"History occasionally uses a few similar faces to tell an entirely new story," Dumbledore’s portrait summarized. "The Malfoy boy and the child with Lily’s eyes... if Severus were still here, he would have liked these two little fellows".
At the mention of that name, the two boys outside the door caught their breath with their faces flushing red. Meanwhile inside the room, there was silence. After a long moment, the Headmistress spoke softly again, "I miss Severus very much. And you, Albus. Sometimes I dream that you are both still sitting here...".
The old man’s portrait sighed. "Minerva, do me a small favor, pour yourself a cup of tea".
The witch persisted, "If I had known then...".
"It wasn’t your fault," Dumbledore said. "Severus deserves the way he chooses to live, or not live. Even though his choice was to let himself be forgotten, and even though that is cruel to us".
"Cruel, old dungeon bat," the woman remarked, though her tone had softened. "And my dearest old friend".
"Our dearest friend," the sound of a porcelain cup clinking against a saucer came from the frame. "To the Bat".
"To the Bat, the Phenix, and the Cat," the Headmistress corrected her old friend. "I must admit, I always hope that one day his portrait will suddenly start moving and give us all heart attack...".
The old man’s laughter was hearty. "That sounds more like the Malfoy's style".
"Speaking of Malfoy, the Potions textbook for this year’s NEWT class has been replaced with the one compiled by Draco Malfoy."
Albus lightly bumped Scorpius’s elbow; the blonde boy’s eyes were sparkling with pride.
"I am glad to see that Horace has finally accepted the suggestion; the curriculum at Hogwarts does indeed need to keep pace with the times," Dumbledore sounded satisfied with the change. "Placing Severus’s name before his own in the editor's column? That was a noble gesture. Severus would be very happy to see his achievements now".
"He is a good, grateful boy; Severus always liked him...".
Scorpius leaned toward the room, his ear nearly pressed against the door. Suddenly, a cry from beside him shattered the silence of the tower: "Ah!".
He was startled, and his forehead hit the door with a dull thud. Ah-oh. Scorpius reached out in a panic, one hand covering his head and the other covering Albus’s mouth. But quickly, following his friend’s gaze, he too saw Mrs. Norris prowling by the stairs. "Ah!".
The conversation inside stopped abruptly. After a brief silence, the old man’s portrait spoke again, his voice now clearly playful: "I believe we have two young guests at the door. Why don't we invite them in?".
Albus and Scorpius turned to each other, seeing the panic of being caught in the other boy's eyes. But clearly, it was too late to run away now—.
"Young gentlemen, eavesdropping is not a good habit," the Headmistress’s stern voice came the next second along with the opening of the door. The sharp gaze behind her spectacles left the two first-years with nowhere to hide. "While I should send you back to your beds and take points from your house, that can wait. Please come in now; I believe you must have many questions to ask."