Disclaimer: All intellectual property pertaining to the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. All original characters, . are mine and may not be used w/o my permission.

A/N: Follows cannon until end of DH when Snape!Lives and is NOT epilogue compliant; HP/SS; rated M (18+) for language and sexual situations.

The first thing of which Severus became aware was that he was lying down, presumably in a bed. The second, nearly simultaneous realization he had was that his head hurt – badly. The paranoid cynic in him wanted to open his eyes immediately to ascertain his whereabouts, but the more practical side of him decided against it, judging the result to be too painful for his throbbing head. Instead, he settled for a slight wince, to which there was a distinct reaction beside him.

"Severus?" he heard a voice question softly. It was a voice with which he was entirely unfamiliar, and so anxiety won out as he slit his eyes just enough to see who was next to him, wherever he was.

His reaction was pure horror, as he involuntarily cringed (oh, that was such a bad idea!) away from the person seated not even two feet away.

"Potter!" he rasped out, his voice hoarse from disuse for however long he'd been lying in this bed. He watched as eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed in…was that concern? Suddenly, a wave of nausea came over Severus as he began to remember what had happened: Pettigrew breaking the Fidelus, the Dark Lord going to Godric's Hollow, going there himself once it was safe, seeing the demolished house, stepping over James to get to Lily, the baby, Oh God the baby, and Lily, dead, on the floor, him going to the cliffs, jumping out of grief…Severus willed back the vomit and scrambled to sit up, ignoring the protests sent by his joints and limbs. Something was wrong, though, very, very wrong. James Potter was dead, yet he was sitting right here, next to Severus.

Suddenly, two other people appeared (in the Hogwarts' infirmary, of course that's where he was) and sent Severus's heart into overdrive: Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey. Admittedly, the latter had very little to do with Severus's palpitations, but he was unsure how much the former knew about Severus' loyalties at the present time. He was about to begin justifying himself when McGonagall spoke – much more kindly than Severus had anticipated, given the circumstances.

"Severus," a smile appeared, "and so you have rejoined us at last." She sat down in a conjured chair and Madame Pomfrey made her way over to Severus's opposite side and began prodding him with her wand.

McGonagall and Potter seemed to be waiting for Severus to say something, so he began with the most pressing thing on his mind.

"What is Potter doing here?" Severus was very careful to look only at McGonagall as he asked his question, but he didn't miss the surreptitious glance of (there it was again) concern Potter gave her.

"Severus," Potter began, but was stayed by McGonagall.

"Why do you think Harry should not be here, Severus?" Minerva asked quietly, leaning forward ever so slightly in her chair, hands folded on her lap.

Harry? Who was Harry? Surely McGonagall saw that James Potter, the dead James Potter – Severus had seen the dead body with his own eyes – stepped over it, even – was sitting to his left. Severus chanced a longer look at James. Something was off – well, several things, actually. Severus suddenly realized he'd been called 'Severus' by Potter, something he had never, ever heard. And something was different about James – he looked older, not by much, but definitely different from the last time he'd seen him, which, he felt he ought to remind McGonagall, was dead on the floor. But there was something else, too. Severus self-consciously scrutinized James's face. Didn't James have brown eyes? Severus wasn't entirely sure what color James's eyes should have been, but the more he stared, the more he became convinced that James should NOT have green eyes. Not those green eyes. He blinked rapidly to hold back the tears that came, unbidden. Lily's eyes.

Who was this man who looked like his nemesis in every aspect but held the eyes of his dearest love? His childhood friend? Was this man a relative of Lily's? Perhaps one of James's? But Lily only had that bitch of a sister, Petunia; James was an only child.

"Severus?" the James look-alike man tried, but was again silenced gently by Minerva.

Harry. Potter. Harry Potter. Oh My God.

The light went on in Severus's head.

"Harry? The baby?" he spoke only to Minerva, frantic. This time, she cast a sideways glance at Harry, who returned it, obviously concerned.

"Baby, Severus?" Minerva repeated. Severus's eyes darted back and forth between the Professor and Harry. "Severus," Minerva recaptured his attention, "do you know what day it is?"

"No," Severus admitted. After all, he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious in the infirmary. But he made an estimate. "I suppose it would be some time not long after Halloween."

McGonagall and Harry exchanged another worried glance, this time with Madame Pomfrey, who had by now finished her diagnostics on him. "And what year do you think it is, Severus?" she asked.

Year? Surely he hadn't been unconscious for that long; he couldn't have missed the turning of the New Year, could he? "Nineteen eighty one?" he tried. He realized instantly by the widened eyes of the three people at his bedside that he was wrong. But how wrong was he? "Eighty-two?" he ventured again.

"Would you excuse us for a moment, Severus?" Minerva asked rhetorically, and she pulled Harry and Madame Pomfrey off into a corner of the infirmary far enough away that Severus couldn't hear them. Severus wanted desperately to strain to listen to their conversation, but his head was pounding so loudly that nausea completely unrelated to the death of Lily Potter was nearly overwhelming him. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the light to help his head. But he couldn't block out the images of the house, James, and Lily, all lying in ruin. To him it was just yesterday, but clearly some time had passed. The fall must not have killed him as he'd hoped for. Someone must have found him before he could die and brought him here to Hogwarts. A small part of his brain wondered if perhaps Dumbledore had put some sort of warning alarm on him at their last meeting. He wouldn't have put it past the Headmaster to want to keep tabs on him, given…well, everything.

"Severus," McGonagall's quiet voice caused his eyes to pop open. He noticed that Harry was no longer in the infirmary. "Poppy is going to give you something for the pain, and then we're going to let you get some more rest. We're hoping things will become more clear for you when you wake."

"But," Severus protested, "How long have I been here? How long was I unconscious? How did I even get back here? Who found me?"

McGonagall held up her hand to stop the barrage of questions flowing from Severus's mouth. "All questions I promise to answer once you have had a bit of rest, Severus."

Severus wanted to argue, but received a meaningful glare from Madame Pomfrey, and then a vial of pain potion before he became too groggy to resist anymore.