It was strange, having Snape as a friend, Ron mused. Severus. Who would have thought he would ever be a friend of the 'greasy git'? His supervisor didn't much like it, either. Educated at home, she had been a junior auror during the war, and had never known Severus Snape as anything other than a name on a poster, and then a convicted criminal. When Ron began to be seen in public with him (lunch in Diagon Alley, the odd drink in Hogsmeade) she had given him a lecture on the importance of being seen to be free of criminal associations. Ron pointed out that the lunch party in Diagon Alley had included his parents and the pub meetings had included such notables as The Boy who Lived and the owner of WWW, but came away with the impression that these celebrities had simply fallen in her estimation as a result. Ron diagnosed Incurable Percyitis and resolved to ignore her. When she pursued the issue he had a quiet word with Kingsley and the subject was dropped, but he was aware that she remained unconvinced, and that he was out of favour.

He didn't know why he was so resolute in holding onto this unexpected friendship. Snape had never been his favourite person, to say the least, but Severus - well that was different. Severus was funny, and tolerant in his odd, sharp fashion. He had never said a word about Ron's invasion of his home after the Seventh Son thing came to light. (Of course, feeding him had probably helped.) He had never condemned Ron's sexuality, either, and his occasional mutterings about Gryffindors seemed more habitual than malicious.

When Luna miscarried, he not only came to St Mungos with a bunch of flowers from his garden, but offered to prepare any potions that the healers prescribed for her. Ron knew that he had actually done so, too, and refused payment. George said that he had muttered something about 'Order members' and stalked away when they tried to insist on reimbursing ingredients costs, at least.

Fourth Friday of the month was Pub Night at Rosmerta's, and after Ron dragged Severus along unwillingly a couple of times, he had become a regular, along with Harry, George, Remus and the occasional other Order member. Hermione had dropped out when she started at Cambridge, claiming she didn't have time, and it drifted into a men's night out, for the most part, without ever explicitly excluding the women. Hermione would still come along once or twice a year, if reminded.

It was at one of these nights that Ron had an epiphany (as he kept telling everyone) - and drank eight pints in two hours in its honour. At well over six foot, he was a bit too large to conceal from the proprietor, but he was a happy drunk, floppy and cheerful in his total lack of coordination. Rosmerta gave him an old-fashioned look, but she didn't stop serving him.

They usually flooed home from the pub, but there Rosmerta drew the line, advising them to take him for a walk first.

"There's no harm in him but I don't want him spraying the fireplace with vomit when it starts to whirl! Bring him back before I close and if he's feeling better I'll let him floo then."

George, Neville and Harry had to get back to their other halves, so it was Remus and Severus who took him out of the smokey warmth into the cool of the evening breeze. Without thinking about it, Remus guided them towards his house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade and finding themselves there, they decided not to bother returning to the pub.

- o - o -

Severus had never been to Remus' home before. The living room made him uneasy - and even more so, when he pinned down the source of that unease. The house was too middle class; too ordinary. The only time he had ever been in such a house was during Death Eater raids, when cosy rooms just like this one had seen events he had no wish to recall. His own past held memories of the mean two-up-two-down he grew up in and the lush residences of his Slytherin colleagues, of Hogwarts and assorted public and private places, but he had never visited a home like this one as a welcome guest. He felt nauseated. The couch slipcover was blue and white, and quite suddenly his mind imprinted it with large splotches of blood, and a severed...

He ran for the garden.

When he had finished, he leaned, panting, against a small chestnut tree and weakly evanescoed the evidence. He didn't recall their names, or even their faces really, nor when they died, nor why - probably no reason at all - but the details of their deaths in their cosy blue and white living room were crystal clear in his memory. He shivered. Above him a new moon was framed by branches, a few autumn leaves lingering still. The neighbouring cottages were dark already, and the light streaming from Remus' house should have been welcoming. Severus didn't think he could go back in just yet, but he could scarcely just apparate away without a word.

It was not long before Remus appeared on the front step. "I put Ron in the spare room," he said, loudly enough to be heard across the small lawn. "There's a fire-whiskey here with your name on it."

Severus took two deep breaths and walked back up the two steps into the little glass-enclosed space which Remus' real estate agent had called an entry lobby, and which Remus used as a space to hang up dripping mackintoshes and umbrellas, and shed muddy boots. There were two old cane chairs to one side and two glasses of fire-whiskey on the rickety table between them. Severus sat down ungracefully and took a swig.

Finally Remus observed matter-of-factly, "Flashback?"

Severus nodded.

"Are you going to be able to use my floo?"

He didn't know. "Of course I am. I was just taken by surprise, that's all."

Remus nodded.

"I assume Ron's asleep?"

"Yes. He'll be fine. He really tied one on tonight! He seemed... exuberant." The men lapsed into uneasy silence.

"Ummm... Severus..." Remus stared at the bare boards beneath his feet. "I would prefer that you were able to visit me, if you ever wanted to. Not that it has come up before, but... would you... Is there any part of my decor which you would like me to change?"

Severus was about to shake his head, but... the man had asked. "Are you deeply attached to your blue and white couch cover, Lupin?"

Severus finished his drink and thanked his host before striding briskly across the living room to the small fireplace and flooing home. He tried not to glance at the couch cover, which was now a decorative forest green, or the curtains, which had been changed to match.

- o - o -

As Severus had expected, Ron showed up at his home the next afternoon carrying a packet of ginger snaps. Not that ginger snaps were necessarily what he had expected, but Ron did usually bring some kind of food. Severus understood that as a courtesy, where Lucius would have taken it for an insult.

He made coffee and they opened the ginger snaps as Ron began to apologise for his drunken behaviour at the pub.

"I've seen you drunk before. At least you're a pleasant drunk, Ron. Some drunks I have known..." he trailed off.

Ron was still looking uneasy. "Remus said you had a bad time last night."

"Mmm. Nothing to do with you, though. Are you going to tell me whether this famous 'epiphany' of yours stands up to the test of sobriety?"

Ron grinned. "It sounds pretty dumb, put into words, but... I can be happy."

Severus thought about it, examining the idea from several angles. "I see."

"Do you?" Ron leaned forward, blue eyes intent.

"Yes; I believe I do. The war is over. Your friends are happy, thanks to the sacrifices of many, not least yourself. You enjoy your work. You can allow yourself to... let go. To seek and find your own happiness."

Ron leaned back, satisfied that he had communicated effectively. "Yes! That's it."

Severus was looking into the distance. "You were too young for the burden you shouldered with Potter and Granger, really. The old men never gave you any choice - Dumbledore and Voldemort both."

Ron's sombre face was looking at him. "You were as young when you started, and it's been longer for you."

"I had a choice." His mouth soured, thinking of the resentful, vain, despairing teenager who had made that choice thirty years ago. He took a bite of gingersnap.

Ron nodded slowly. "In a sense, you did. But not for long."

"No." Severus considered the downward trajectory of his life since that stupid, fateful choice. "No, I suppose not. Except that I did choose to fight on."

Ron nodded again. "Yeah, you're right. You didn't give up and go under. That's important. Anyway, the epiphany was for you too. You can choose to be happy, too."

Oddly, the thought was new. He understood the shock of it upon Ron as he felt its impact upon himself. Could he really?

Since he'd been released from Azkaban he had felt resigned, angry, hopeless, sad, calm, and there had even been a few moments of comfortable peace, but actual happiness...There was so much from his past that weighed upon him. Did he really have the right to just push it aside and start again? Would wizarding society let him? Who would he be, if he let his past go? And there were good things from his past too... Minerva, Draco...

"I'll think about it," he said uneasily.

"It was you who sparked it you know. You really started it all at Hera's christening. When the whole shock of the Seventh Son thing died down I was left with a feeling that I had missed something, and then yesterday I suddenly understood what you were asking - what you saw that made you ask - and then I just realised... there isn't any reason for me not to go for the things I want. So I thought I should share it with you."

Ron was glowing.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Severus asked.

"Just... I dunno. Just look for the things I want, I guess. I want a partner, maybe a kid or two if it can be arranged and if my partner does. I'd like a house in the country like yours one day, and I miss having a garden with trees to lie under and vegetables growing in it. I've never been further than France - I wouldn't mind going to the World Cup in Spain next year. And I've wanted to learn to ski ever since Hermione told me about it."

Severus felt a burning pang in his chest. Oh yes. Once he might have wanted all that too. He forced his face into a pleasant expression.

"Well then Ron, you should go out and get them."