The afternoon was unseasonably warm and pleasant, and Sylvester Snape sat alone on a bench near the centre of the cemetery, conveniently close to Rosemary Jane’s fresh grave, where she had been laid to rest barely over a week previously. She was buried only one space away from Grampy Nick. Sylvester found himself focusing on the empty grave lot in-between, which he expected to occupy himself sometime. He felt ready to occupy it now; his grief and weariness of spirit were hitting home.
Rosie Jane’s funeral had been well-attended, and the outpouring of love from family and friends had buoyed him up for a time. Life was now starting to return to some new surreal version of normal, and it felt good to be no longer busy with funeral activities. But he was becoming painfully in touch with his loss, and though the quietness of the pleasant day gave his soul some relief, he felt all alone. He found himself thinking about his conversation with Albus Dumbledore, twenty years previously, the mysterious long-bearded man whose matchmaking had changed his and Rosie Jane’s life. Sylvester had almost half-expected, and even hoped, that Mr. Dumbledore would reappear at Rosie Jane’s funeral, but he had been nowhere to be seen.
A large solitary bird appeared in the clear blue sky, flying swiftly from the north. As it came close Sylvester could see that it was a magnificent Long-Eared Owl, carrying an envelope in its beak. The owl landed and perched right on top of Grampy Nick’s gravestone and dropped the envelope, looking straight at Sylvester and uttering a single hoot, as if to greet him. Then it took flight once again and disappeared into the northern sky.
Sylvester walked to Grampy Nick’s grave and picked up the envelope. He was astonished to find his name on the envelope, addressed as follows:
Mr. Sylvester Snape
The bench near Nicodemus Malfoy’s grave
St. Magdalene’s Parish Cemetery, Guildford, Surrey
He opened the envelope and found two sheets of antique-looking parchment. The first was a letter, which read:
28th February, 1998
Dear Brother Sylvester,
I wish to convey my deepest sympathies at the tragic loss of your beloved wife Rosemary Jane. I have only recently learned of your existence, and would have wished to bring you my condolences in person and make your acquaintance, but present difficult circumstances prevent me from doing so. I also pass along to you deepest condolences from my friend and associate, Professor Albus Dumbledore, who made your acquaintance some twenty years ago at the funeral of Mr. Nicodemus Malfoy Rickles. Professor Dumbledore sends his sincerest regrets, as his present condition prevented him also from attending. I only hope in this sad hour to express that you are not alone in your grief. In time the enclosed document shall prove most useful to someone in your family not yet born; the meaning of that which I say will become clear when the proper time has come. In hopes that your sadness shall one day give way to hope of a most magical quality, I am sincerely yours,
With brotherly affection,
Severus Snape
Sylvester had no words for what he felt after reading this letter, except that he no longer felt all alone. He turned to the second enclosed parchment sheet, which, oddly, was mostly blank, except that across the top were the words
At the bottom of the page, below the large blank space, was a horizontal line, and below the line were these letters:
Mystified, Sylvester reread the letter from his brother Severus, then carefully folded the two sheets, put them back in the envelope, and hugged the envelope to his chest. Gazing at Rosie Jane’s yet-unmarked grave, then at Grampy Nick’s gravestone, Sylvester returned to the bench and put the envelope in the inside breast pocket of his coat. He buried his face in his hands, and for the first time since Rosie Jane’s death the solid knot of grief in his heart melted into a flood of tears.
For twenty years Sylvester told no one about the owl or the letter, until the day that Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom came to pay him a visit, and as Sylvester narrated his life story, he decided that the time had come to reveal his secret, and he showed them the letter, which they found highly fascinating. Harry smiled as he looked at the second sheet and said –This is good, very good. Rosemary will need to sign this, on the line, and when she does so, you’ll see it’s something very useful indeed.â€
–I see,†said Sylvester. –What of Severus? What can you tell me in a nutshell about my brother the Potions Master?â€
Harry sighed. –It’s hard to know where to begin. Your brother was a great and powerful wizard, Mr. Snape, and the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was Potions Master for many years, but when he wrote that letter he was Headmaster. There was a terrible wizarding war raging that year, and it had been brewing all during our time at Hogwarts. To be honest, for most of the time we were there we feared Professor Snape, and I'm sorry to say we even thought we hated him. He could be very harsh, and we often thought he was against us, until the very end when we learned that he been our bravest guardian, as he had been posing as the enemy’s ally while undermining the enemy’s efforts at the deepest level, from right within his closest inner circle.â€
–Brave indeed,†Sylvester said, and paused. –It moves me to hear how you hold my brother in such esteem. I can imagine how he might have been a bit harsh, especially as I’m cut from the same bit of cloth.†Sylvester smiled. –Your report of his heroism stirs my heart as well, but I must admit I had been hoping that his life had been happier than that. During the course of my misfortunes, I had come to hope that Severus and his beautiful friend Lily had been living a happier life than I, off in their world of wizards and witches. Let me ask … did Severus and Lily end up together?â€
Harry swallowed. –No, they didn’t. So much could be said … suffice it to say for now that Professor Snape had an undying devotion to Lily which motivated his heroism. But she married a different man, whom she met at Hogwarts. His name was James Potter. Mr. Snape, Lily Evans Potter was my mother.â€
Sylvester’s eyes grew wide as Harry held his gaze. After a pause Sylvester raised his hand and spoke up. –Mr. Potter, let me say this right away, that I sincerely hope and trust that your mother and father enjoyed a love as rich as I did with my Rosemary Jane. So please don’t misunderstand me when I tell you that this news is a bit of an adjustment of perspective for me. You must realize, Mr. Potter, that deep inside my heart, the hard-nosed scientist you see before you is a hopeless romantic,†Sylvester said, smiling sheepishly. –As a child I had loathed the sound of my brother’s name when my father taunted me with it, but I grew to love my mysterious brother Severus, my fellow freak, each of us a disappointment to Father in his own way. I would have enjoyed having a brother to talk with, and it was all the worse knowing that I really did have a brother, but I had been robbed of the chance to know him. I had fancied, even hoped, that he and his Lily were living a happier life that I … together. I imagined that when I named my granddaughter Rosemary Lily Snape, that I was naming her after her grandmother and her great auntie. I hope you don’t mind me saying all this, Mr. Potter.â€
–Not at all,†Harry replied, placing his hand on Sylvester’s shoulder. –My mother was an aunt, but she never had a real chance to enjoy it. I think she would be most honoured to be called Auntie to your Rosemary Lily, and I consider it an honour as well. Consider it done.â€
–Thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart, Mr. Potter. I’ve noticed, of course, that you speak of both Severus and Lily in the past tense, and in time I will ask you to tell me how they died. But Rosie will be arriving shortly, and I need to finish my own tale.
"Needless to say, Rosie Jane’s death was a dreadful blow to all of us. She was Stewart and Miriam’s only child. As the years went by following her death, I watched that lovely, vibrant couple die slowly of heartbreak. Neither lived long enough to see Rosie’s birth. My Mum lived until Rosie was two. Sam and I moved in with her in her flat, since we couldn’t bear to live in our beautiful home anymore after what happened. The house wouldn’t sell, and I finally settled at a tremendous financial loss with the realtors, who to this day are still trying in vain to sell that empty, apparently cursed house. Meanwhile, Sam, bless his heart, tried his best to make a go of life, but life is never the same when an eight-year-old boy loses his mother to murder. He and his mates had a band. He was an excellent lead singer. ‘Sam and the Samurai,’ they were called. He claimed they were searching for a better name, but they never came up with one,†Sylvester smiled. –But Sam was very troubled. He made himself a few of the wrong friends, and a few more of the wrong enemies. In 2007, on the night before my birthday, Sam was knifed to death in a street fight in the East End. He was only seventeen.â€
–We’re so sorry, Mr. Snape. You have our deepest sympathies,†Neville replied. Neville and Harry leaned closer to Sylvester, resting their hands on his shoulders as he continued to speak.
–Thank you very much. Sam’s girlfriend was pregnant. Her name was Ashley McKinley. She was only sixteen, and very smart. Excellent young scientist. I had hoped she would be another Sapoora. But Ashley’s path in life had been rough from the beginning, and she had five addictions. She was in no shape to bear a child, but she wanted to see her baby more than anything. She distanced herself as she could from her own sordid family, and we arranged for me to be the child’s guardian. As Ashley went into labour, and I brought her to the hospital, I feared that the baby would be born ill and addicted. But instead … pure magic.â€
A transcendent expression came upon Sylvester’s face as he continued the tale. –Ashley got her wish. She saw her baby girl. The baby had plenty of hair, mostly white, like a true Rickles, but with a lock of wavy red hair, like her mother’s. Ashley held the baby in her weak arms. Then she beckoned me to take the baby’s tiny hand in mine, and Ashley rested her hand over ours, and as she did so, the baby opened her eyes, which were most striking in appearance, one blue and one green. Most newborn infants lack focus, but this child had a steady gaze, and as she held eye contact with me, she winked her right eye, the blue one, and smiled at me, continuing to hold my gaze … even as her mother took her last breath. The baby’s wink brought me back to the moment when Professor Dumbledore, that master matchmaker, winked at me, and I knew at once that this is what he was talking about, when he said that if I taught Rosie Jane chess, that something truly magical would come of it. Because at that moment I knew that I believed in the magic, and that Ashley and Sam’s beautiful, miraculous child belonged to the same world from whence I knew Grampy Nick had come … the mysterious, magical world of Mr. Dumbledore, and Severus, and Lily. And that, my friends, is why her name is Rosemary Lily Snape.â€
Sylvester paused again, and he shared a long moment of reflective silence with Harry and Neville. Sylvester suddenly had a coughing fit which sounded very painful. Recovering from the fit, he turned to Neville and asked, –What, by the way, is your specialty, Professor Longbottom?â€
–I’m Professor of Herbology, Mr. Snape. Thank you for asking.â€
–Ah, that has a good scientific ring to it, Professor. Let me forewarn you that you and your colleagues are about to experience a five-foot-tall whirlwind of torrential energy, the likes of which you may not yet have faced. It’s been my task these eleven years to look after her. I’m exhausted, and not just because I’m dying.†He smiled, and continued. –But given the chance, I would do it again, and again, until the very end of time … –
Sylvester was overcome by another brief coughing fit, and Neville began to say –Sir, I have something that may help you … – but he was interrupted by a sudden outburst from Rosemary’s pet canary, which had been mostly quiet during the whole hour, except for the occasional chirp and twitter. But now the bright yellow bird began chattering excitedly and flying in loops and circles around the room.
Harry was the first to notice the cause of the canary’s excitement. In the doorway stood a beautiful young girl with straight blonde hair, except for a lock of naturally wavy red hair in front of her left temple. She wore a lace-fringed black knee-length skirt over black leggings, with stylish ankle-high black boots on her feet, and an unbuttoned matching black vest over her only piece of non-black clothing, which was a white t-shirt with a design that added to Neville’s confusion over Sylvester's shirt. Her t-shirt simply said Pink, with no mention of Floyd, and featured a portrait of an assertive-looking woman with spiked blonde hair. Earrings in the shape of black kittens completed her outfit, and the predominance of black and white accentuated her bright eyes, one green and one blue. Harry and Neville saw immediately that she already looked very much like a witch, and also that she looked very much like a Malfoy. She was holding a large sketching pad in one hand and her travel bag in the other, and she had a look of wide-eyed astonishment as she saw Harry and Neville.
–I’ve seen you. And I’ve seen you, too, sir. I don’t mean in person. I saw you in my mind’s eye, and I was going to draw pictures. But here you are! Yes, hello to you too, Grampy, and hello to you, Mrs. Chirpsworth and Mr. Snakey-Poo.†The canary was flying circles around Rosie, before landing on her shoulder and continuing to chirp noisily. The snake, on the other hand, showed no sign of caring about anything other than the rat-sized bulge travelling down its throat.
–Don’t you think our guests are entitled to a proper greeting, Miss Snape?†Sylvester asked in a stern tone.
Oh, yes, Grampy, I’m very sorry, sirs, I was just so surprised.†She walked over to her grandfather’s wide-open arms and gave him a long hug, with Mrs. Chirpsworth still riding on her shoulder. Then she turned to Harry and Neville and said –Good morning, gentlemen! My name is Rosemary Snape, but you may call me Rosie.â€
–It’s our pleasure to meet you, Rosie. My name is Professor Neville Longbottom, and this is my friend and associate, Mr. Harry Potter.â€
Harry spoke up. –Rosie, would you please tell us more about what you saw, when you saw us in your mind’s eye.â€
–I can do that. I hope you don’t mind that it’s rather strange and frightening.â€
–That’s perfectly fine with us, Rosie. Won’t you please tell us?â€
–Okay, Mr. Potter. Just last night I was seeing things, as I always do, and I saw a battle between two wizards using their magic wands. One of them was a terrible, evil wizard who looked like a monster with a face like a snake, but he was defeated by a good wizard, and the good wizard looked like you. He was even wearing glasses like yours. I know that sounds strange, but that’s what I saw. And I saw you , too, Professor Longbottom. I saw a terrible snake, ready to attack, but a wizard who looked like you pulled a sword out of a magician’s hat and killed the snake.â€
Neville waited a few moments for Harry to respond, then spoke up himself. –Rosie, that doesn’t sound strange at all, because it really happened. Mr. Potter is being modest, but years ago there was a real, evil wizard just as you saw, and Mr. Potter defeated him in battle.â€
Harry said, "And Professor Longbottom is also being modest, because he really did kill that snake just as you saw, and if he had not done so, I would have never been able to kill the evil wizard."
Everyone was silent for a few moments as both Rosie and Sylvester took in what Neville and Harry had said. Rosie spoke up, wide-eyed. –Mr. Potter, Professor Longbottom, are you real wizards?â€
Harry knelt down in front of Rosie to meet her at eye level, and put his hand on her shoulder. –Yes, I am a real wizard, and Professor Longbottom is a real wizard too. And there’s something more we’ve come to tell you today. There’s a reason why you have the power to see the things you see and do the things you do. You, Rosemary Lily Snape, are a real witch.â€
–Oh my,†Rosie replied, and stood silent for a long moment, meeting the gaze of Harry, then of Neville, half-expecting to hear in a moment that it was all a joke, but when she met her grandfather’s gaze she knew at once that Mr. Potter was completely serious. Her grandfather was looking back at her with an expression quite unlike any she had seen on his face before. His face expressed a sort of wonder, admiration, bittersweet joy, and deep affection, all at once, along with several other very deep things that she couldn’t name. It gave her a new and very grown-up feeling, as if she had just been crowned as queen and her Grampy was now a type of brother to her instead. She smiled at her grandfather and said, –Well then, I do hope that I’m a good witch, and not a bad witch.â€
Everyone laughed, and Harry spoke up once again. –The fact that you care about being a good witch is the best sign of all that a good witch is what you are. And not only are you a real witch, but the castle which you have drawn so beautifully is a real place. It’s called Hogwarts Castle, and it’s the home of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We’re here to welcome you as a new student. Professor Longbottom will be one of your teachers there, and years ago your grandfather’s brother was our teacher there. His name was Professor Severus Snape, and he was one of the greatest wizards in the history of Hogwarts.â€
–Oh, really?†Rosie asked quizzically. –Did I catch it from him, then?â€
–No,†Neville laughed. "We think you inherited your magical abilities from your great-great-great-grandfather Grampy Nick. Judging from what your grandfather has told us, we think he was a Squib. That’s someone from a magical family born without magical powers. Sometimes, many generations later, the power to do magic reappears in a descendant of Squibs, and you, Rosie, are the one.â€
–Ah, that makes perfect sense,†Sylvester said with a chuckle. –Grampy Nick used to do little magic shows for the neighbourhood children. Not real magic, mind you, just sleight of hand and parlour tricks. But he was very entertaining, and he would end each show by saying, ‘well, that’s all you’ll get from this old Squib, but I’m glad you liked it, ladies and gents.’ We always thought it was his own word he made up for fun.â€
Neville laughed, and continued. –Indeed! Rosie, your Grampy Nick was born to a family of witches and wizards by the name of Malfoy, but was sent out into the Muggle world because he had no magical powers. Muggle is our word for a person without magical powers. We’re sorry if it doesn’t sound very nice.â€
–Believe me, I’ve been called far worse,†laughed Sylvester. –And I do believe I recall Father mentioning the word Muggle more than twice. He complained that he had expected me to be less of a freak since I was Muggle-born and a Muggle myself, and I had no idea what he was talking about.â€
–So then, how did Uncle Severus become a wizard, and not Grampy?†asked Rosie thoughtfully.
–It’s because they had different mothers,†Harry answered. –Severus Snape’s mother was a witch named Eileen Prince. That’s why he once gave himself a secret nick-name as the Half-Blood Prince.â€
–Oh,†said Rosie, –that’s very interesting. So since I’m a girl, I could be called The Muggle-born Princess, in honour of Uncle Severus and his Mum!â€
–Muggle-born Drama Queen would be more like it,†quipped Sylvester, who then said –Ouch!†in mock pain as Rosie pummeled his arm with her fists.
–Oh, Grampy, what am I ever going to do with you?†Rosie said, deftly avoiding Sylvester’s hand as he tried to grab her arms. –Oh, this is so exciting! Mr. Wizard, I mean, Mr. Potter, I’m sorry … and Professor Longbottom, I would so love to see you do something with your magic. Oh, would you please? Pretty please?â€
–We have something even better in mind, Miss Snape,†Harry replied, looking at Neville. –We’re going to help you do something with your own magic. It sounds like you have the power to see things in your mind’s eye that you haven’t seen in person. Let me ask you, have you ever thought of something that turned out to be a prediction of something that came about later?"
–Well, sir,†Rosie replied, –one day I was walking by the river, looking for snakes and insects and other creatures, and suddenly without thinking about it, I spoke a little rhyme out loud, that went like this: ‘By the splitting of a log, I think I shall catch a frog.’ I reached out my hand, and out of the grass a big bullfrog jumped and landed right in my hand! It wasn’t afraid of me at all. It looked at me and said ‘ribbit,’ and jumped out of my hand back into the grass.â€
–Miss Snape," said Harry, "not only are you a witch, but I think you may be in possession of a certain special gift. I think you may be a Seer, and I’d like to perform a little test. I’m thinking of something, and I’m not going to tell you what it is. When you know what it is, I would like you to draw it on a page of your sketch pad.â€
Rosie looked at Harry for a moment, dumbfounded, but soon a look of recognition came upon her face. –I can see it, Mr. Potter. Your mind looks to me like a house with the windows and doors closed, but you’re opening a window, and I can see something through the window …†Rosie smiled broadly, reached for her sketching pad and charcoal, and began drawing energetically.
–I knew you would be able to see it,†replied Harry. –Professor Longbottom, while Rosie is drawing, I think we’re ready for you to get started with your part.â€
Neville nodded back at Harry, and as Rosie continued to draw, he reached into an inside pocket of his long coat, extracting a clear vial which was mostly filled with colourful flakes which looked like tiny autumn leaves.