CHAPTER EIGHT

Dear Mr. Potter,

My name is Augusta Longbottom and I would like to extend an invitation to your nephew and you to visit with me at Longbottom Manor at your earliest convenience. I was good friends with your nephew's parents, and I have a few things that they'd entrusted to me, to give to him when I was able to meet him.

I am glad that you've come to claim custody of your nephew. I never liked Albus Dumbledore; he had his fingers in too many pies for my liking. I am positive that he'd had something to do with the disappearance of your nephew on that horrid night; I just never had the proof to back up my suspicions.

I await your reply.

Sincerely,

Lady Augusta Longbottom

Dear Lady Longbottom,

I would be delighted to meet with you, and bring little Harry with me. I am sure that he would be glad to have whatever mementos his parents had left with you, as no one has been able to tell him anything of his parents, except for Severus Snape.

I would like to bring professor Snape with me during this visit, if you don't mind. I'm trying to encourage him to widen his circle of acquaintances, so that, should anything unexpected happen, he has a support base to whom he could turn for help.

I've been rather busy teaching, and may not be able to take you up on your kind offer until the summer holidays. Perhaps early July would suffice?

I am looking forward to meeting you.

Sincerely,

Killian Chastain Potter

Dear Mr. Potter,

Early July will not do. I have some charitable events during the first two weeks of July, so my time is limited. Might I suggest July 31? We can have a joint birthday celebration for your nephew and my grandson, Neville. I think it would provide the perfect opportunity for your nephew and my grandson to meet, and perhaps become good friends.

Sincerely,

Augusta

Dear Lady Longbottom,

July 31 sounds perfect. I would be happy to introduce little Harry to your grandson. That way, when they come to Hogwarts, they'll have a strong friendship that will see them through the tough times ahead. I am eagerly looking forward to meeting your grandson.

Sincerely,

Killian

Tippy popped into Severus' private quarters and handed Killian a stack of parchment and some wizarding photographs. "These is being from before," she told him in a stage whisper. Severus snorted in amusement at the little elf's antics, not letting on that he'd heard her every word.

"Thank you, Tippy," Killian said with a laugh. She popped away, leaving a cautious raven and a curious Potions Master behind.

"What are those?" Severus finally asked, when his curiosity got the best of him.

"They're letters and pictures from my previous time," the elder Potter replied softly.

"How is that possible?" Snape asked, eyebrows skating into his hairline in surprise.

"I found out that house elves are able to maneuver seamlessly through the time streams," was the quiet answer. "Elven magic is unexplored because there are so few of the High Elves left. At least, that's what the wizarding world believes. The truth is that, when they grow tired of wizards, they just move to a different strand of time. Sometimes they'll return to their original time, to look things over, but generally they try to avoid us as much as possible. I guess they see the enslavement of the house elves and are repulsed by wizardkind because of it."

"That's completely understandable," Severus finally said after gathering his scattered wits. "I, myself, have no fondness for slave bonds, considering what I'd sacrificed when I joined the Dark Lord's forces. Generally speaking, the house elves are treated relatively well; it's only the few who abuse them that results in all of us being painted by the same broad brush." Killian shuffled through the envelopes silently, eyes sad. "Well," Severus finally huffed, "are you going to open them?"

Hiya, Harry,

Draco and I are finally bonded. You'll find pictures of the ceremony in the envelope. I am so happy; you'll never know how happy I am. Your second sacrifice did the trick. The Dark Lord is no longer here. Luna allowed us to 'see' what the Fates had done to the man, and just let me say that it wasn't pretty, but it was well deserved.

Narcissa sends her love, as well. She was saddened to hear that you had to leave to save us all, but she understood, and praises your courage and willingness to sacrifice any happiness you might have had here to finally off the bastard. I suspect you are far happier there than you ever would have been here.

I knew you had fallen in love with professor Snape; I'd overheard you talking in your sleep one night. In this time, that love would have been unrequited. In your new time, you have a real chance to be happy, for once in your life. I also know that you're grateful to be able to provide your younger self with all the love and security you were denied.

We all love you, and miss you terribly. Just know that we believe you made the right choice; for yourself and for the wizarding world.

Love forever,

Neville

Dear Scar Head,

Thank you for speaking with the Minister on my behalf, and for submitting the pensieve memories of the final battle. I will never regret the choices I made, nor will I regret the consequences of my choices. Killing Father was the only way I could see to get out from under his heavy thumb, and it served to assist you in your defeat of Voldemort. See, I can say his name, too. Father would have been ruthlessly relentless in his efforts to protect Moldyshorts and defeat you. I couldn't allow him to kill you; you were and are a shining beacon to all of us, showing us what we can accomplish if we work together.

Minister Shacklebolt was particularly kind to me. Not only did he exonerate myself and my mother of all charges, but he returned our properties and vaults in total. Though there is nothing that will replace my hand, the Minister thought I would make a good Undersecretary, and I've taken to the job like a duck to water. I have you to thank for that, as well. With your good name backing me, and the Minister, as well as Neville's support, I can walk proudly down any street, and know that no one will think me unworthy.

I will miss you, my friend. We didn't get a chance to spend a lot of time getting to know each other, but I believe we know enough to call each other brother. You are the brother of my heart.

Love you.

Draco

Harry, my man,

You'll never guess what happened.

Our idiot brother is in disgrace now.

It seems that a few people went to the Prophet and told that pest Skeeter some secrets.

She took those secrets and embellished on them wonderfully.

Ron was able to take Granger down with him.

There are tons and tons of letters from all over the wizarding world, supporting you and worrying about you.

Ron and Hermione have gone to Australia, in the guise of finding her parents.

The real story is that they were chased out of magical Great Britain for their abhorrent treatment of you.

All thanks to pensieve memories, recording charms, and our darling Luna.

Since you've considered yourself Luna's guardian, we'd like to ask for your permission.

We'd like to bond with our lovely Luna so that we can keep her safe from the outside world.

Someone let it slip that she's a Seer, and the people have been hounding her for readings for months.

So do we have your permission, little brother?

Love you lots.

Gred and Forge

August 14, 1997

The Daily Prophet

PETTIGREWS REVEALED!

Harry Potter's friends not true friends

Rita Skeeter, reporter

Here it is, dear readers. The truth you've all been waiting for. Harry Potter's best friends weren't. Like most everyone else, they were just hangers-on, waiting for the adulation that they were sure would come their way once the Savior had finished He Who Must Not Be Named. Fame by association, as it were. Unfortunately for them, the truth was submitted to me in the form of recording charms, pensieve memories, and live interviews. Since the information is so vast, I'll just summarize for this article, and continue my exposé in a series of future articles.

Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were never Potter's friends. They had used him to gain a sort of notoriety within the school, and outside its walls. Stories were leaked to this reporter many times over their years there, and it's come to light that they were the ones to leak the stories. Good stories to gain support and adulation; bad stories to gain sympathy and pity. Whatever they needed for the moment, the story would be created to gain it.

I never felt the need to verify the information; the paper never felt the need. We all believed that, because these were Harry Potter's best friends, they knew him best and knew what was going on at all times. We took their words as gospel, and never looked back. Because of our willful blindness, we defamed and slandered a brave, courageous, selfless young man. Because of that next shiny galleon, we destroyed the reputation of one of the finest wizards to have ever graced our shores.

Killian leafed through the pictures, smiling fondly at the grinning faces, pleased for the happiness he could see in his friends' eyes. He'd ignored the rest of the newspaper articles, knowing that, should he read them, the information would color how he related to the Weasleys of this time, and he wanted to forget about the false friends he'd left behind.

Severus had read through the letters and articles as well, curious as to how that time stream was doing. He was happy to see that his godson was finally with someone worthy of his time, and saddened that the young man had felt the need to take such drastic measures to free himself from the shackles of his father's tyranny. Indeed, the more he read of Killian's original timeline, the happier he was that the young man had chosen to come back, to give the Potions Master something to which he could look forward.

The dour man looked at his companion for a long time, watching as the dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks that bloomed with an enchanting blush, indicating that the younger man was fully aware of Severus' gaze. Snape slid sideways, leaning into the younger man and wrapping long fingers around the grey-eyed youth's chin. He gently turned Killian's face toward his own and leaned further forward, pressing his lips to the younger man's softly.

Killian inhaled a gasp, lips parting, and Severus' tongue plunged in, mapping out all of the crevices and dips of the other man's mouth for long, pleasurable minutes. Just when air was becoming an issue, a very young voice rung out in the silence. "Unka Kiwwian, is unka Sevwus kissing you?"

"He is," Killian husked out, once their lips had separated.

"Does that mean he wikes you?"

"It does," Severus murmured with a grin as he looked at the curious little boy.

"Does that mean we get to keep him?"