Severus Snape sat tensely on a damp park bench, his thin lips drawn into the deep frown that so often adorned his face. This frown, however, was particularly deep, and had already caused several Muggle passerby to give him a second glance and shy away from his stormy expression. He reached into his black robes for the hundredth time, and pulled out a letter that had been folded, re-folded, crumpled, sat on, and much thought about.

He opened it.

Severus:

Need to see you. Thursday, Kensington Park, bench overlooking the water. 7:00am.

Lily

That was it. No explanation, no apology, no 'Hey Severus, just wanted to make your life a bit more complicated by drudging up old memories'-nothing. Severus could feel his fists clenching. He shouldn't have come. In fact, he had walked in and out of his small flat at least seven times before trudging down to the park. Shouldn't have come, he thought again, for the millionth time. But then again, it was Lily. Had he ever been able to deny her? He sighed through his nose and closed his eyes.

Merlin, he needed a drink.

He could hear the snow crunching under someone's footsteps, but he kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to look at her. He was angry. The wind in her hair, those green eyes, that tinkling laugh- Angry, god damn it. Angry. Remember? She hates you. You hate her. There is nothing, nothing akin to happy feelings around her. No warm, cuddly, melting-butter-on-the-soul type feelings. Angry, you are angry.

She's married to Potter now, and rumor is there's a baby on the way too, a small voice inside his head sneered. Even the little voices in his head sneered at him. Even he was making fun of himself. He'd officially hit a new low. He was sufficiently pissed off when she sat on the bench beside him. He didn't open his eyes, and concentrated awful hard on steadying his breathing. Someone elbowed him in the ribs, way too hard to be Lily.

"Wake up, Snivilus, you dolt."

Severus' eyes snapped open. It was Potter, not Lily. Relief at the new situation swept through his tangled mind. He could hate Potter, and there was certainly nothing confusing about that. Pure hatred was easier than the terrible, mixed-up sort of love he felt around Lily. His pale face pulled into a familiar sneer as he turned towards his old enemy, rusty memories of teasing faces and malicious laughs making their way to the surface. Suddenly, he was very angry indeed. God, Severus wanted to hit him.

At least, he did, until he saw the look on Potter's hated face. That look spelled out deep turmoil and betrayal and a hell of a lot of anger. He immediately grew inwardly worried. Does he know how I feel about her? Did she tell him? Merlin, does he know? But he forced out of his mouth a greeting that was more or less indifferent to the thoughts racing through his head.

"What do you want, Potter? I've nothing to do with you."

Potter's eyes narrowed in anger, but Severus felt that something was off. Through all the times Severus had... spoken to him, Potter never looked like this. Potter never looked at him like- like he was... jealous? Betrayed? No, that couldn't be it, because if he was reading Potter correctly, Severus was going to be dead really, really soon.

"As a matter of fact, Snivly, I've..." Potter stopped his retort before it began, and it looked as though he almost blushed. Severus knew he should have laughed, but Potter's behavior was way to odd to laugh at, and he was getting rather worried.

"Look, I've got something for you, and... Oh, fuck it all, just take the damn thing!" and with that Potter thrust a heavy bundle of blankets at him and crossed his arms, looking away and huffing angrily.

Severus peeled back a corner of the blanket and was greeted with the sight... of a baby?

It was hard to tell who was more surprised, the baby or Severus. They stared at each other, black eyes meeting green, and Severus realized that he knew those eyes. Lily's eyes. Shit.

Blood began rushing though Severus' ears, and he practically threw the baby (as gently as possible) back at Potter. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at, eh?" he hissed, "I know you know about... the way I feel, but this is a new fucking low for you, Potter. You don't have to rub my face in it, you slimy bastard." Potter opened his mouth to respond, but Severus was on a roll now and couldn't stop. "And with a note, too? From her? That's so..."

But Potter pushed the baby back in Severus' lap and banged his head against the back of the bench three times, slowly and none too gently. His brown eyes slid closed, and his brows furrowed so deeply it looked as though his glasses had hairy rims.

"It's yours."

Fuck.

His mind went blank as pure fear rippled though his body. He started shaking violently and grabbed at Potter's arm, knuckles turning white against Potter's green jumper. He thought he might be sick just from the thought. His.

"Please," he rasped through a rapidly closing throat, "Please, Potter, tell me this is a joke."

It better be a joke. He could live with the laughter afterwards if it meant that this one thing wasn't true. He found that for the first time in his life, he was praying that Potter would make fun of him. God, his.

Potter scoffed, though it seemed pretty forced, and wrenched his arm from Severus's grasp.

"You think I would joke about shit like this?" his voice was hoarse, "You think I could joke about my wife getting knocked up by another guy?" Potter rested his head against the back of the bench again. "By you?" he whispered it like it was a dirty secret, as though he would rather have anyone be the father of this child than Severus.

The man in question, however, was far too used to these types of insults to mind, and was too busy nearly shitting his pants to even notice.

" I heard that she was..." Severus trailed off, "But I never imagined... and it was only the one time... Merlin...I-I mean... it's mine?" He looked down at the gurgling infant that was causing his brain to short-circuit, "She's mine?"

Potter's jaw clenched, and he nodded tersely, his shoulders tight and his mouth screwed shut.

Severus felt like he couldn't breathe. His? He was a father? He had a daughter?

Why didn't she tell me?

"I don't fucking know, but I sure wish she'd told me." Potter breathed, his fists clenched so tight the tendons stuck out in his arms and Severus startled, not realizing that he had said something aloud.

"Did you tell anyone else?" Potter's jaw clenched again, and he shook his head.

"We're going to pass it as a miscarriage. We were going to... I was going to just give it up for adoption, but she said that you should have it." Severus felt vaguely horrified at the idea, the possibility that he might've gone without knowing... it felt like betrayal that Lily would let him walk through life when he had a daughter. Jesus, a daughter. His daughter.

Severus looked again at the baby in his arms. He leaned closer to inspect her miniature features and her tiny hand reached up for him. His heart leapt in his chest. She was reaching for him. She placed her hand on his beak of a nose and gurgled, spit bubbling up around dainty pink lips. Unconsciously, Severus felt a tug on the corners of his mouth. He'd never liked children very much, but this one... this one, he felt, was different.

This was his daughter.

He put a finger under her fingers on his nose and she curled a tiny fist around it.

"When was she born?" his voice was, to his and Potter's astonishment, calm and even. Sappy, even.

Potter gave him a sidelong glance, wary of the dramatic change in Severus' behavior. "Week ago, Saturday, bout 4 in the morning."

"Does she have a name?"

Potter snorted contemptuously but his voice was defeated, raw, "No." but the intended message was quite clearly stated in that one word: Does that really sound like something I'd like to do? Name the bastard child of my wife and my worst enemy?

Severus' eyes didn't leave the baby's as Potter stood up, brushing off his pants and putting his hat back on.

"Here's a letter from her." Potter threw a white envelope onto the bench next to Severus and stalked away, his hands shoved deep inside his pockets. He didn't look back and Severus didn't look up. There was an unspoken agreement about how this was to be handled on either side, and it mostly involved never speaking of it again.

Severus stared at his newfound purpose in life for what seemed like hours, just gazing at the daughter he'd never known about and never planned upon. He reveled in his fresh parenthood until the tiny child opened her rosebud mouth and emitted a sound not unlike that of a cat when its tail is run over by an SUV. It was at that exact moment that Severus Snape realized something very important:

He had no fucking clue what to do with a baby.