A/N. Finally. Last chapter. Thanks to all of those who read&reviewed.

Two days later Neville and Severus sat down to have dinner with their friends. They had, by necessity, hidden out in Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's secret rooms, and had made good use of their time by cooking the various dishes they had been introduced to on their travels. Severus even made sure there were plenty of chocolate desserts for Remus, who was the first to arrive. Of course, they then had to take turns batting the man's hands away from the sweet stuff, or it'd all have been gone before anyone else got a chance to taste it.

Hermione and Ron arrived next, and handed both Neville and Severus a beautifully decorated piece of parchment.

Opening it, they saw it was an invitation to their wedding in six months.

Severus looked at them in surprise. "You're inviting me to your wedding?" he said in disbelief.

They nodded. "Of course," Ron said.

"It's not going to be a very big wedding. Just our family and closest friends," Hermione added, "Will you please try to be there?" she gave them both an imploring look, "it wouldn't be the same without the two of you."

Severus went slightly red and mumbled something about checking on the silverware as he turned and walked away.

Neville smiled brightly at them.

"Hermione, I could just kiss you," he said happily, and then blushed. "Sorry Ron, I didn't mean…"

Ron laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "'S ok mate. I know what you meant. We just want him to know he's not alone in the world anymore. Besides, now that he's himself, more or less, without the Horcrux, he's an ok guy. Still a major sarcastic streak, but I can learn to appreciate that."

Harry entered, followed by McGonagall. Both had a pretty dazed look in their eyes and were clearly unsure if they wanted to laugh, cry, or flee in terror. The others stared at them.

"What on earth happened to you two?" Severus voiced the first question in everyone's mind.

Minerva blushed and sat down, shaking her head.

Harry cleared his throat. "We erm…we went to the Ministry today, to oversee the questioning of the Death Eaters…" he began before looking distinctly nauseated.

"I think I better just put it in a Pensieve," he mumbled, "I definitely want to get rid of this image. It'll ruin my appetite."

Both he and Minerva draw a silver strand and deposited it in the Pensieve.

The others looked at them, before entering.

"MacNair! MacNair!"

"Don't talk to me, Rufus. You got us into this mess."

"But I was right, wasn't I? Snape is alive."

"And we can't tell a living soul because that Potter brat put some sort of charm on us."

"True. But I WAS right. So that means…"

"Means what?"

"Remember what you said you'd do if I was right about Snape?"

"What…" comprehension dawned. "Oh no, absolutely not. You can't be serious. We're about to get KISSED and you are thinking of some silly bet?"

"Well, consider it my last request, then. Besides, you made a promise. You risk losing your magic if you don't do it."

"Yeah, like THAT is much of an issue now…"

"You wouldn't want to die a Muggle, now, would you?"

"I hate you."

"Same here. But you're still going to do it."

"I HATE YOU!"

"Too bad I don't have one of those needles ready, you know, the ones you kept sticking into me…"

"Shut up, Rufus."

"Shut up, Rufus."

"Shut up, Rufus."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the point…"

The five pairs of eyes watching suddenly widened when they were standing in the Hall of the Ministry, as guards tried to get a naked MacNair, dressed only in a bodypainted Dark Mark, off the Fountain he had climbed on, dancing like mad and singing the themesong from Titanic.

They left abruptly.

"Now that was…" Remus started,

"Disturbing," Neville added.

"Wicked," Ron said,

"Despicable," Hermione frowned,

"Funny," Severus grinned.

They all turned to stair at him.

"What?" he asked innocently, "didn't you think so?"

"I can certainly appreciate the irony," Minerva said, "but the sight made me a bit queasy."

"A bit?" Harry said, shocked, "I nearly gauged out my eyeballs. It was definitely NOT a sight I care to ever see again."

"Fat chance, the Dementors got him," Ron said, "Now, what's for eats?"

Epilogue

Neville said that since he started this story, he would let me finish it. Not that he left me all that much to write, mind you.

As I read what he wrote, I shuddered with fear, wept with laughter and sat for hours just quietly remembering.

I remember Albus more clearly now that I am no longer overcome with emotions at the mere mention of his name. I can recognize now that he was human and made mistakes, but that he did love me. I still fondly call him 'father' in my mind. Minerva got me my own portrait of him. I put it up in my study, and it is a comfort to see him smile at me when I look up from researching yet another potion. Of course he also still gives me that infuriating twinkle and admonishes me about the lack of lemon drops in my office.

I have done many things in my life that I was, and am, ashamed of, even though I eventually managed to forgive myself enough to live a healthy, fulfilling life. But over the years, I have also done a number of things that still make me smile with pride and happiness. Yes, I said happiness. I am no longer the bad tempered greasy git, just get USED to it for Merlin's sake. These days, I even smile at small children. Of course, they are my friends' children, but none the less.

Anyway, one of those accomplishments I was talking about before I was so rudely interrupted by your disbelieving stares, is the potion I mentioned to Neville when we were in the USA.

It took me the rest of our remaining year of travel, but eventually I managed to brew the five potions mentioned in the book, and found the right method to brew them into a single potion that, when a drop of blood of the patient is added, reverses both the effects of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus, as well as the effects of the Dementor's Kiss.

No, I do not plan to bring back the Death Eaters. Many people in the course of the war, had been Kissed when the Dementors joined Voldemort. With that potion, I was finally able to bring them back to their loved ones.

When I told Neville about the potion he stared at me, his mouth open and eyes wide. I have known for years that he is actually quite an intelligent young man, but at that moment he did look like the incompetent little twit that blew up his cauldron and soaked the entire class in a…product…that caused huge boils, in his very first potions lesson.

After I told him to close his mouth and take the crate with prepared potions to London, he rushed over and hugged me.

Of course I threatened to slip something nasty in his tea if he did it again, but he must've seen the way my lips kept moving upwards despite my strict internal orders to stay put in sneer-mode.

He went to live in London after that, to take care of his parents until they were ready to go back to living on their own. St Mungo's offered him a position on their healing staff and if I'm correct, he'll be chief of staff before he is 50.

Oh, and he DID go back to that motel where we stayed during our memorable Journey-To-Hogwarts-By-Stolen-Car. He took one look at the receptionist girl and again fell head over heals in love. The feeling was mutual, and eventually they married. His grandmother wasn't pleased that he had chosen a Muggle girl, but when neither of their two children turned out to be squibs (they set her vulture topped hat on fire at the age of three, for which I will be eternally grateful. As a token of my appreciation, I saved them from the wrath of their greatgrandmother by claiming I had done it. For a moment I truly feared she was going to spank ME instead, had Neville not burst into fits of hysterical laughter at that precise moment) she accepted her daugher-in-law and even learned to appreciate shopping at Muggle Malls.

Something I never learned to do. Despite my wife's attempts to drag me to a mall – yes, I ended up marrying a Muggle – I steadfastly withstand her nagging.

A few years after Neville married Carly, I met Amber at the Opera. We ended up having a stormy romance, breaking up at least three times and getting back together within a week, before I realized I couldn't live without our goodnatured bickering anymore. I proposed to her exactly five years after being declared dead.

Neville encouraged me to tell her the truth about who I really am BEFORE we married. She stared dumbfoundedly at me, yelled at me for a minute or so, and then proceeded to kiss me passionately. (Don't give me that look. My wife says I'm not a bad kisser at all.) She really is a remarkable woman.

Our wives plan to go shopping today. Neville and I agreed to come along on the condition that we are allowed to sit in a quiet cafe, have a drink, and talk about our work all we want while they empty our vaults. I will let him read my epilogue then. I know we will talk about the old times a bit, and smile as we again realise that our travelling days are gone.