Dinner at the Dumbledore house was as warm as a family gathering.
During the meal, the old wizard kept raising toast after toast. Sirius was probably the first to get drunk. He slumped over the table, sometimes gnashing his teeth, sometimes sobbing his heart out.
Remus and James had no choice but to take care of the emotional drunk before he drowned himself in his tomato soup.
"James, Lily, wait for me… wait for me… I'll bring you home…"
James and Lily looked helpless. They found it funny, but their hearts ached for their old friend too.
The living were waiting for the dead, and the dead were worrying about the living.
After dinner, Remus and James brought Sirius up to a guest room on the second floor so he could rest, and the two of them stayed there to look after him. Lily said a quick goodbye and went out into the street, accompanying Grindelwald as he walked the old witch Bathilda home.
Dumbledore was also thoroughly drunk, and he kept trying to pull Skyl into conversation.
The old professor's hands were like two heavy bundles of cotton, warm and soft. In Skyl's previous life, his grandfather had held his hands the same way, mumbling about old stories from years past. Looking back now, those memories seemed to belong to a distant time and space far beyond reach, so far away that even his grandfather's name and face had blurred beyond recognition. Only that small, familiar gesture still left an impression.
"Skyl, you'll be graduating soon. Would you like to stay? Spend three years as a professor, then three years as a Head of House, and then I'll retire and hand the position over to someone better. You can be Headmaster. How does that sound?" Dumbledore might have been speaking drunken nonsense, but his eyes were bright.
"Not very good, Professor. I wouldn't be an excellent administrator. The last person with abilities like mine who enjoyed meddling in the management of the world was called Jehovah, and his story was written down in a little book called the Old Testament. I don't think you'd enjoy seeing a Great Flood wipe out the world."
Dumbledore laughed like Santa Claus.
"All right, you are always very persuasive. Still, Skyl, you must remember that Hogwarts will always have a place for you. Like a home. Perhaps one day you'll need it… I speak from experience.
"To me, Hogwarts is more than a school of magic. I sit in that lofty Headmaster's office, busy with work, busy arguing with the fools at the Ministry of Magic. I found myself so many things to do, all so I could forget this house, or perhaps so I could give myself a reason not to come back here."
"Professor, we repaired this house. The parlor, the furniture, and of course the bedrooms, your bedroom, your family's bedrooms, they're all ready to welcome their old friends back," Skyl said gently.
"Soon, your sister Ariana will return. Though she has two old brothers old enough to be her great-grandfathers, a brand-new life is waiting for her, isn't it? Her eldest brother is no longer cynical and resentful, no longer someone who ignores his family, but the greatest wizard of the twentieth century. With your help, she'll find the missing pieces of her life, adventure, friendship, love, and the long joys and sorrows of enduring life itself."
"I know. The true meaning of resurrecting the dead often does not lie with the one being resurrected, but with us suffering living people, who can finally breathe again. Finally."
Dumbledore shut his eyes tight. Clouded tears slipped from the inner corners of his eyes, tracing his aged cheeks before falling drop by drop onto the white fabric at his chest.
"A lot of people are crying today," Skyl teased. "Should I shed a few tears too? Never mind. I'm not much of an actor."
"Skyl, you need not cry. I wish for you to always laugh freely," Dumbledore said softly.
Skyl froze for a moment. When the old wizard opened his eyes again, they were as clear as the sky after rain.
"Thank you, Professor."
…
Lily left Bathilda's house alone. The streetlights were few and far between, and the night world was dim. She went to the pub but did not see Snape. The owner said the man had already left a while ago.
There was less than half an hour until nine o'clock. She had once been a regular at this bar, but after thirteen years, many of the furnishings had changed, and even the owner had changed.
"What happened to old McCall?"
"You knew my uncle? He passed away five years ago." Young McCall shrugged. "You don't look familiar. Are you with the group that came to leave flowers at the war memorial? That's rare. This village doesn't get many visitors."
"I used to come here, more than ten years ago. Your uncle was still the one standing behind the counter back then."
"Ha, you're joking. Minors aren't allowed in here."
Lily smiled and said nothing. Thirteen years felt like nothing more than an ordinary afternoon, a quick scratch of the scalp with a wand, and then, in a daze, it had passed. It had left no trace at all, and the world seemed almost new.
She walked out of the bar, her interest fading.
As she wandered through the village, Lily felt restless, though she did not know why. By chance, she saw a familiar figure lingering in front of the memorial, and she took the initiative to approach.
"Hey, Snape."
The old bat failed to live up to his nickname and showed none of a nocturnal creature's sharp instincts. The witch popping up behind him startled him badly.
"Ah! Ivanna Collins, what are you doing here?! You, this, this… Don't do that again. Do you hear me?"
Lily burst out laughing.
The happier Lily laughed, the darker Snape's face became.
The wand in the witch's hand released a glow, illuminating the flowers before the memorial statue. The bundle of Afu flowers Snape had left there was still dry and shriveled, and it looked pitiful.
"You bought quite a few Afu flowers when we were making the Draught of Living Death, didn't you?" Lily teased. "Don't tell me you suddenly remembered you should bring a bouquet, had no idea what to choose, and just grabbed one from the storage cabinet. Isn't that a little too insincere?"
Snape loathed this teaching assistant. Her temper was like a flame that flickered bright and dim, dazzling the eyes of any creature hiding in the shadows.
"This has nothing to do with you."
"You forgot that I'm your teaching assistant. Actually, I can help you handle many troublesome little matters in life. For example, choosing a suitable bouquet for you."
"You have helped more than enough. Collins, now kindly go wherever you please."
"Snape." Lily still refused to give up. "You're hiding something from me."
The Potions professor asked in surprise, "Has our relationship already become close enough for mutual honesty?"
"I just… you know, now that we've made the resurrection potion. In the future, you can return to the classroom, and I'll be leaving."
"Is that so?" Snape murmured to himself. "The nuisance is leaving. I suppose I must pretend to ask her to stay."
His eyebrows drooped, yet the corners of his mouth still curled with slyness, creating an expression that looked less sad than ridiculous.
Lily laughed so loudly that the residents of Godric's Hollow would have to spend the rest of their lives wearing hearing aids.
"Ha, I thought you didn't have anything like a sense of humor. Everyone says your heart is already dead."
Snape abruptly withdrew his expression. For some reason, he was always losing control of himself in front of Ivanna Collins.
"We should go meet the others. The Muggles have already gone to bed. Once we dig up the graves and collect the materials, we can return and prepare," the old bat said methodically. "I hope that broken cauldron repaired by those three fools works. In any case, the resurrection potion is flawless. Do you still have any Felix Felicis left from before Christmas? Everyone can drink a little when the time comes…"
"Snape," Lily interrupted him.
"What?"
"You have someone you want to resurrect too, don't you?"
"I told you, it has nothing to do with you."
"Then that means yes. Who is it?"
"Shut up."
"The Dark Lord? Oh, judging from your expression, it isn't him."
"Shut up!"
Lily pointed at Lily's stone statue.
Snape unconsciously held his breath. His gaze turned dangerous, like an enraged snake.
The witch's eyes rested on the stone, and she smiled as she said, "It really is a fine statue."
"…"
The old bat fled, panicked as if he had suffered a crushing defeat.
Lily looked back at Snape's retreating figure, then raised her head to the starry sky. There was no moon tonight, and the stars were brilliant.
She murmured, "So you were always doing this for me… You really are a hopeless fool."
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