Kingsley
“Professor,” greeted Kingsley with a bow.
“Minister.” Replied Severus.
Kingsley sighed as he looked into the black eyes of his former order colleague and took a step back.
“I’d like to-“
“Here it is.” Severus cut in, rolling his eyes, “you’d like to thank me, apologise for your lack of trust in me, to soothe your conscience?”
“No.” Kingsley responded calmly, unruffled by Severus’s mannerisms, much the same in death as in life, “I came to inform you that you’ve been officially pardoned, your name cleared. I’ve come to tell you that your name is spoken with the gratitude of people who never met you, nor ever will have that privilege.”
“I’d hardly say my acquaintance was ever considered a privilege.”
“On the contrary, Severus, it was. Do you have any idea how much I enjoyed witnessing your back and forths with Sirius? How your humour and wit was so often a reprieve from the hell of mundane small talk? You were an awkward man to know, but I enjoyed your conversation.” Kingsley stated plainly.
“Did you now?” He drawled.
“I did. My personal perspective aside, I’m here to inform you further that you have been awarded a posthumous Order of Merlin, first class.”
“Me?” Severus’s eyes widened, “I don’t-“
“You deserve it. It went to a vote in the wizenegamont and the decision was unanimous. Harry spoke in your support, as did your colleagues. I wanted to inform you in person-“
“In print, more like.” He scoffed.
“Yes, in print, before the Prophet released it.”
“Thank you, minister.” Severus replied softly as the tall man turned to leave. “Kingsley,” he called, “I enjoyed your company too.”
With a sad smile and a shared, polite bow, Kingsley stepped through the door, papers to hand to authorise the print of the news, the headline: The Spy Who Saved Us.