Title: From A Pauper To A Half-Blood Prince
Prologue: A Bittersweet Discovery
Disclaimer: I typically spend an inordinate amount of time trying to be witty and clever and creative in thinking up things to write here, always priding myself on not having repeated myself once - but since it's been over a year since I've updated anything, I have no friggen clue what I have and haven't said before and have no intention of wasting any of the few precious moments I have online going back to reread all of my own disclaimers. Please. Even my ego isn't that big.
Oh, and by the way? I don't own the Harry Potter series canon, or anything officially relating to it - though I'm damn well gonna claim my fanfics. My ego is certainly big enough for that.
Rating: Uhm. I'm gonna go with... "T". For now. I may bump it up to an M if I decide to continue this story long enough, though I'm probably going just end it where I'm thinking of ending it and keep the option of a sequel open and update another chapter to the end of this fic anouncing it if and when I start writing one. So, yeah. *in a much stronger, more confident voice* I'm gonna go with "T".
Pairings: Draco/Harry pre-slash, maybe a bit of Draco/Harry at the end (I might save that for the sequel); one-sided Severus/Lily, Lily/James, Lucius/Narcissa, Severus/OC, Sirius/OC, Remus/OC, assorted canon pairings, one surprise pairing. (Contains both het and slash couples)
Warnings: Language, child abuse, suggestions of het and slash sex. Dumbledore bashing.
Summary: What if James and Lily became ghosts because their uncertainty and fear regarding Harry's fate kept them from being able to move on? When little Harry needs help, they seek it from the unlikeliest of sources. Featuring ghosts, titled nobility, magical theory, Dumbledore!bashing, Severitus, good!Malfoys, and a sweet little boy who goes from believing he'll never be wanted or needed or loved or even liked, to having a huge patchwork family comprised of unlikely people who bond over their mutual desire to be there for him as he grows to understand what love really means - a lesson his adoptive father also learns along the way.
A/N: So, this won't be updated frequently until my other stories are complete. I just dreamed it and had to write out the first chapter as soon as I woke up, because it was so clear and I felt so awesome about it. I can relax now that I've written it out since the rest of the story was pretty vague and patchy in my dream. This story mostly focuses on the father/son relationship between Harry and Severus, with secondary emphasis on their relationships with the other important people in their lives. It's Drarry pre-slash, so the Harry/Draco relationship gets lots of extra attention, too.
The magical theory (and these particular concepts of "Black, White, Light, Dark, and Neutral Magics" and of "Sacrifice Magic") discussed throughout the fic are entirely my own idea. FYI. Please let me know if you plan to borrow any of it, so that I can have a Draco-strut around with my nose in the air feeling an unwarranted degree of superiority over My Ideas Being So Awesome That The Power Of Their Awesomeness Can Even Be Noticed By People Who Are Not Me (TM). Seriously, though - you can go ahead; I don't mind. It's just that it would make me feel pretty good if I knew about it, and since depression has been a huge issue for me for a long time now, I think I could use all the feel-good stuff I can get. Plus, if you tell me you're using some of my magical theory in your story I'll be too curious to avoid checking out the fic you use it in.
Anyway - enjoy!
FROM A PAUPER TO A HALF-BLOOD PRINCE
Prologue
Every time I try to walk through walls
More walls appear
It's all becoming clear
What's the point of feeling love for you
When you don't believe I'm here?
What's the point of trying to raise your voice
If no one ever hears?
Maybe I'm just a ghost
Just a whisper in a puff of smoke
A secret that nobody knows
No one will ever hear
What's the point of saying, 'Rescue me!'
If no one ever hears?
Ghosts - Coldplay
Godric's Hollow
October 31, 1984
On a quiet street in Godric's Hollow a man stood unnoticeably; absolutely silent and rendered invisible within the Ministry's wards to any Muggles that may have been passing by. He simply stood and stared at the sad remains of what might have once been a rather quaint and lovely cottage.
The house appeared to have been partially blown up; the right-hand side of the house had been blown out, the roof was almost completely gone, and what remained of the front and back walls – along with the sparse remnants of the roof – were scorched and beginning to crumble. The lawn and flowerbeds were becoming grievously overgrown, with weeds and grass taking over the lot and obscuring the front walkway. The whole thing had obviously been left to the mercy of the elements for quite some time, and it was altogether becoming rather dilapidated from neglect.
The man's head was bowed, so that to any observer he appeared to be in contemplation of the plaque mounted in front of the gate surrounding the half-demolished dwelling. That his eyes were in fact fixed upwards while his wand was busy in his sleeve, lips moving in silent incantations as he ran diagnostic scans on the wards of the house – scans that had been modified to show results only to his eyes, rather than being visible to all and sundry – was something that no one who might have been watching him would have noticed.
He had shaggy, shoulder-length sandy blond hair and a plain, forgettable face with dull brown eyes. The light from the setting sun sent shadows playing across his features, which only served to obscure them further. He was utterly unremarkable, and only the most strident of observers might have seen, upon prolonged observation, the tell-tale flickering of a glamour. A strong yet subtle misdirection charm upon his person discouraged any such close examination.
Abruptly he straightened, turning and striding down the street with a surprising fluidity of movement that was simultaneously intimidating and graceful.
No one was watching him as he walked away; therefore no one noticed when he ducked into the shadow of a large willow tree two blocks away and cast a powerful disillusionment charm on himself. He silently renewed the misdirection charm, increasing the strength and ensuring that no one would notice the faint shimmer in the air left by a disillusioned individual moving about.
He was good at remaining unnoticed when he wanted to be, as he did then. He doubled back the way he'd come, and the faint shimmer gliding through the air that indicated his presence was invisible in the first beginnings of twilight, even without the misdirection charm on his person.
He slipped around the side of the ruin through the closest neighbouring yard, skirting the property and coming to a stop round the back, just beyond the fence. There he was relatively safe from prying eyes, and as long as he was careful and subtle enough he knew he would be able to do what he'd set out to accomplish without anyone ever knowing.
He raised his wand and began casting a careful and extensive array of spells, beginning the long process of subtly altering the wards to create an opening to admit him onto the property. It took much longer than he would have liked, having to stick to Light Magic, but Dark Magic would have triggered the wards. As it was, he was barely able to manipulate them incrementally enough to avoid doing so with the gentlest, most subtle of Light Magic at his disposal. It was only his impressive skill and power levels coupled with a gift for delicacy in casting that allowed him to succeed – he very much doubted there were so much as half a dozen other wizards in Britain who could have managed it.
Finally he stopped, pausing to catch his breath. Then he glided forward, moving purposefully into the wreckage of what was once a happy home.
As he stalked through the remains of the cottage, he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. From the street outside it had appeared that nothing of personal value remained in the dwelling; once inside he realised that was likely due to a charm woven into the wards, one intended to protect the posthumous privacy and sanctity of the Potter family's few meager possessions remaining. There was evidence of scavengers, yes; but the cottage wasn't entirely gutted of personal property, and the remains of dinner from that night still sat on the stove and the tabletop. Likely it was only due to some type of preservation charm in the wards that it had not rotted and begun to smell – though how exactly preserving the Potters' last meal was in any way honouring them, he had no idea.
He saw the stairs and moved up them, treading silently and swiftly to the top. Once there he paused, moving forward haltingly until he reached the nursery which held the worst of the devastation – indeed, it appeared to have been the epicenter of the blast.
He halted, stumbling to a stop and catching himself weakly against the doorframe. He could feel himself trembling; feel the tears clogging up his throat. His knees gave way beneath him and he sank to the ground, shaking with suppressed emotion, staring at the floor in front of the crib where the Headmaster had told him that Lily Potter fell. A sob broke free from his throat and he crumpled to the ground, giving way to his grief.
He had no awareness of how much time passed as he wept, not even noticing the way he lost his hold on the he'd charms layered over himself while he mourned.
All he was aware of was the soul-crushing weight of his grief and guilt, and he sobbed her name out – "Lily, Lily, Lily," along with his apologies; "Sorry, I'm sorry; I never- oh, Merlin, Lily; I'm so sorry!" - over and over in a litany of sorrow and regret. He cried for the love that he'd lost and the chances that he'd wasted – even though he knew he'd probably never even had any of those in the first place – and above all he wept for the beautiful, precious laughing girl with long red curls and the most beautiful, most intense green eyes he'd ever seen.
He cried and sobbed out desperate, broken promises and intercessions; a mantra that begged for forgiveness and swore to pay any price to gain it. In the back of his mind was the awareness that it was Samhain, the night of the dead and the third anniversary of her death; that small part of him couldn't help wishing that perhaps the veil would be thin enough on this night, in this place, for her to hear him and give him the absolution his soul craved.
Eventually his tears ran dry, and while he still found himself choking with desperate, dried-out sobs and whimpered, incoherent mumblings, his breathing was gradually slowing and evening out. He began to grow quiet as he calmed down; curled on the floor with his eyes closed, he could almost convince himself that he felt cool fingers carding through his hair the way Lily once would do with him when they were younger and the wedge driven into their friendship had not yet grown wide enough to drive them apart. He fancied he could almost hear her whispering to him again.
"Hush now, Severus. It's alright. I know. I know, Sev. You're gonna be okay."
After his sobs had stilled and his breathing calmed, he lay there with his eyes closed, enjoying the fever-dream while it lasted.
"I had no idea I still meant so much to you, Sev. I have to admit I'm a little shocked."
The sensation of being petted, of cool, slender fingers carding through his hair went on. "I wish we could have made up before I died."
His wishful thinking told him that there was a sad wistfulness in her voice. "I wonder; if we had, would you have made different choices after Hogwarts? Or am I placing too much importance on my role in your life?"
"You have always been the most important thing in my life," he whispered in reply to the beautiful dream his mind had conjured, his voice hoarse from the outpouring of his grief. "It was only pride that ever held me back from making that as clear as I should have; and had I realised what that pride would cost me, I would have suffered through the exercising of a little more humility."
The fingers stilled; stopped abruptly as she gasped, and the chill that he felt made him suddenly and wonderfully aware that this was no mere fever-dream, for they were ice-cold where they lay tangled almost insubstantially in his hair.
His eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright. "Lily!"
He stared in disbelief at the lovely, slightly transparent silvery-grey figure kneeling on the floor beside him. He swallowed heavily. She gave him a shy, sad smile, and his breath hitched.
"Hello, Severus." The note of sorrow persisted in her voice, and something inside him simultaneously ached and was soothed at the sound.
"I thought..." He swallowed thickly. "I thought I would never see you again."
She breathed out a chuckle, and spots of silver darkened on her cheeks. "Yes, well, I'm glad to prove you wrong; though I'll admit I'm not looking quite as well as I once did."
He shook his head in denial of her statement, unable to tear his eyes away. "You're beautiful." It was the most honest thing he'd said in years – to him, it seemed that he had never seen a lovelier creature; in spite of the loss of the vibrant colours that had always been a part of her appearance, and the current rather dubious nature of her tangibility.
The silver spots on her cheeks darkened further at the pure sincerity in his voice and the soft joy in his gaze, making his heart soar at the sight; that was, until a familiar and very unwelcome voice called out, "Oi!"
Severus found himself cuffed gently in the back of the head, and another silvery-grey figure moved round to face him. "No hitting on my girl, Snivelly!"
"James!" He only dimly recognised the fact that Lily was scowling in disapproval at the new arrival in the face of his dismay.
He gritted his teeth against the unfairness that even in death James Potter felt the need to lord his ownership of Lily's affections over Severus' head. He sent a sneer at the spirit, only to have a sudden thought occur to him.
"You hit the back of my head!" He glared at Potter before returning his attention to Lily, where it belonged. "And you... you stroked my hair! I felt those things – both of them! How is that possible?"
Potter smirked and opened his mouth, but his wife clapped her hand over it, shooting him a warning look that made him subside with a rather sulky expression on his face. Facing Severus again she explained, "It is Samhain, at the same time and in and on the place and anniversary of our deaths. Because the those events coincide, it enables us on this day – and most especially on this night – to have a slightly stronger degree of interaction with the living than our counterparts do whose dates of death fell on days less potently connected with the spirit realm than ours did. In addition to that, it is now shortly after twilight – the time when the veil grows thinnest – which only serves to further enhance that already heightened connection. Our current location – together with the fact that it is early evening when our times of death were in the evening – only serves to further strengthen that potent connection."
The realisation that she was substantial enough to touch hit him, and Severus reached for her without thought; only to pull his hand back quickly when he realised what he was doing. She smiled at him again – that same sad smile from earlier – and reached out to take his hand herself.
He swallowed thickly, squeezing her nearly insubstantial hand in his own; stroking the back of it with his thumb as he stared into her eyes. "I miss you," he admitted hoarsely. "I've always missed you; ever since the day I lost you."
She swallowed hard as well. "And I missed you. You were always my closest friend; the one person to whom I could confide everything. My most treasured companion; the one I valued most." She bowed her head for a moment. "You meant so much to me, Sev. I don't think you understand how much it broke my heart to lose your friendship."
"Then why?" The cry broke from him, and he was unable to hold back. "Why couldn't you forgive me? You were the one who chose to end our friendship; I apologised over and over when I begged – begged! – your forgiveness, but you were steadfast in your insistence that you never wanted to speak to me again!"
She looked up, biting her lip as she turned and cast a pleading look at her husband. He sighed, rolling his eyes, and nodded.
"I'll be downstairs." He shot Severus a harsh look. "Don't you dare say anything to hurt her," he warned, before moving out of the room in a motion that was a little less walking than it was gliding across the floor with his feet barely skimming the surface.
Lily turned back to face Severus, but kept her eyes downcast. "Before we start this conversation, I'd appreciate it if you could conjure yourself a glass and cast an Aguamenti. You're a bit dehydrated, and as a ghost I have no way to help you if you were to pass out from thirst."
She settled her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look, causing him to tremble slightly from the sudden emotional onslaught accompanying the unbidden rush of memories prompted by her posture and expression.
He grumbled a bit at being ordered around, but despite how much he loathed it from anyone else he was secretly glad of it from her; he had missed her bossing him about when she felt he wasn't taking sufficient care of himself.
Now that she had mentioned it he became aware of how dry his throat had become. His eyes burned from salt and lack of moisture due to all the crying he had done – for which he felt a wave of agonising embarrassment as it occurred to him that Potter had witnessed his display of weakness – and his mouth felt uncomfortably dry. He wet his lips, noticing that they had become rather chapped. Still grumbling – more for show than anything else – he did as she had suggested. He drank deeply, refilling his glass twice before banishing it.
"Now," he said, returning his full attention to her – not that she hadn't still held his attention while he obeyed her orders, but he had needed to devote a small modicum of it to what he was doing in order to avoid making a mistake and looking like a fool in front of her. "Are you ready to continue?"
Lily's eyes became downcast once again, and she began picking at her skirt in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. "The only person I've ever told this to before is James, several weeks into the start of term during sixth year; although I later learned that Sirius was spying on us and overheard. It's what gave him that moronic idea for that so-called prank he pulled on you, coupled with a vicious verbal attack you made on Remus later that week when he was doing his Prefect rounds and caught you out of bed after hours – he'd snuck out to tail Remus under James' invisibility cloak with the intention of pranking him and overheard."
"I didn't know," she added quickly as his face darkened. "Not until the last three years. I didn't learn of Sirius' foolish, horrible display of his complete lack of judgement until after we'd died and were recounting Hogwarts stories, and it took me months to come to terms with it. I only managed to do so because I know Sirius well enough now to understand that it was prompted by impulsivity and thoughtlessness rather than any cold-blooded intent to murder you."
Seeing the anger in his expression, she expounded, "Yes, it was cruel and malicious; but not to the degree that one would expect to find with such an attempt – Sirius, for all his brilliance academically, is a complete idiot outside of the classroom."
Despite the horrible feelings the reminder of that incident had prompted in him, he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth at such an accurate assessment of Sirius Black. He couldn't help feeling a vicious satisfaction that the maniac would spend the rest of his life as fodder for the Dementors.
Lily shook her head, looking singularly discouraged as she continued. "Logic is not his forte by any means. And his parents were, in their own way, just as abusive to him as yours were to you. He had a completely valid reason for believing Slytherins were evil; he was simply too young when your rivalry began to really understand that not everyone in your house was like his parents, and had no idea how to identify who was and who wasn't. James hated you because he had a crush on me and I wouldn't give him the time of day; while you were my best friend. He'd also been raised in a family of Gryffindors; thus with stories of the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry. If you had been in any house other than Slytherin, Sirius wouldn't have been as keen to bully you and James might have been a little more hesitant; but since you were and James hated you Sirius decided right away that you were evil and Dark. None of that is sufficient excuse, not by any stretch of the imagination. But it is the reason behind the state of things, as they were. It can't possibly excuse it, but it does explain it."
Severus still had a very black look on his face, though he no longer appeared to be about to explode. Lily sighed, running her fingers through her hair in her trademark gesture of nervousness. "At any rate; I know that none of it was fair, but it's over and done with, and can't be changed. I simply wanted to mention it to show that Sirius was attempting to 'defend my honour' or something of the sort in his own, mentally-deficient way. I also thought I should make it clear that Sirius was alone in that idiotic idea of his. James only knew to come and save you by the sheer luck that Sirius never keeps his mouth shut and happened to mention it, apparently thinking himself very clever. You should know that it caused an enormous rift in the friendships between Sirius, Remus, and James which lasted for years; Sirius and James were only able to repair theirs as quickly as they did because Sirius was living with James and his parents at the time, while Remus pulled away from James as well as Sirius once he realised James had completely forgiven Sirius."
She shook her head sorrowfully. "I knew that something had happened between them at the time, but not what; James refused to speak of it, saying only that it cut too deeply to talk about and he would tell me someday. They had begun the process of forgiving each other shortly before James and I married, but then came the war and in the end that 'someday' didn't arrive until we were both ghosts. And now that I know about that whole mess, I admit I'm distinctly nervous about Sirius' ability to care for Harry responsibly."
Her face took on a rather pinched expression at that, and she added, "Sirius may have grown up since sixth year, but when we died he was still rather immature. Learning just how poor his judgement actually was at sixteen gave me strong reservations about leaving him as Harry's primary guardian."
Severus opened his mouth to assure her that the traitor was locked away in Azkaban where he belonged, well away from her son, but she held up her hand in a plea for him to let her continue speaking. "I'm getting off topic," she asserted. "I'm really sorry about that; I'll continue."
She did so, but her tone grew reluctant. "I got over it years ago, but at the time it was so painful I felt like I was dying."
Chewing her lip, she fell silent for a moment. Then her Gryffindor side reared its head, and she squared her shoulders, lifting her head and meeting his eyes. "Back in fifth year, I was in love with you, Sev."
He stared in shock, unable to believe what she'd just told him. He had always wanted her love; always, from the first time they'd met. But he had never once felt he had reason to believe he had it. He couldn't believe it now. He wet his lips and forced himself to question her aloud. "If that's true, then why couldn't you forgive me when I asked?"
She gave him the saddest smile he had seen from her yet. "Severus, you looked down on and despised Muggleborns. I knew it, but I tried not to see it because I didn't want it to be true. And even if it was true, I told myself, I was different. Special. You would never see me as a 'Mudblood'."
"But I told you," he protested, "I didn't mean it! I could never have meant it! I didn't see you that way, Lily; I never have, and I never will!"
"But the fact that you could have called me that name at all indicated a marked lack of respect for me," she chided gently. "And after the worst of the initial hurt wore off, I was forced to examine the situation from a more objective standpoint. I realised that I couldn't be with someone who hated 'my kind'; all other witches and wizards born into Muggle families like I had been. I realised that if I ever attempted a relationship with you, sooner or later it would end; and it would not end well. That doing so would result in the breaking of our friendship; and in so much more hurt for us both than breaking off our friendship right then would have. And I knew that I had to end our friendship if I was ever going to get over my feelings for you. They were too strong, and I was too weak to stay your friend and not try to become more if the opportunity presented itself."
He sat there, staring helplessly, struggling with so many different emotions that he had no idea what to say. "We... we wouldn't have ended," he said, dimly recognising that he was blinking back tears. "We would have made it work; I would have made it work. I would have done whatever it took to keep you by my side. I loved you too much not to do so."
"You were involved with a crowd that talked and acted like Death Eaters; who wanted to become Death Eaters. Who did, in fact become Death Eaters. Between their attitude towards Muggles and Muggleborns and their enthusiasm for Dark Magic, they never could have accepted me anymore than I could have accepted them; and they never would have wanted it any other way. We never could have lasted, Sev."
There was still sadness in her face, but also a firm conviction. "And you say you would have done whatever it took; but you gave up on earning my forgiveness because you were too proud to keep trying after I refused. It wasn't that I was looking for you to keep grovelling after me or anything like that when I sent you away; but if you had made an effort to show me that you were attempting to change the things I had told you I couldn't accept, and had you been persistent enough in your attempts to convince me to give you a second chance, I wouldn't have had the strength of will to keep denying myself what we both wanted. But you gave up, because you truly felt that your prejudices were justified, and because your pride was greater than your feelings for me. Making that kind of an effort would have been too humbling, and you couldn't face it."
She laughed a little. "I'm not judging you for your pride; not entirely. I have some pride of my own; you know that. But while I grew up in a family that cared for me and consequently taught me that there is a time and a place for pride, you didn't. I'm not saying that that is in any way your fault, but it had a negative effect on your ability to develop positive interpersonal relationships with other people. Your father tried and failed to break your spirit – and you have no idea how glad I am that he failed – but because of that you wear your pride like a suit of armor, and you lash out viciously at the slightest hint of a perceived attack."
Something in his face must have warned her, because she sighed and gripped his hand tighter. "Sev, I'm not judging you. I swear I'm not. Like I said before; the reasons behind your intense pride and defensiveness are completely understandable and even natural given the circumstances you grew up in. Not to mention that I'm fairly proud myself."
She laughed again lightly. "We're both so stubborn and so proud in our own ways; with the addition of your prejudices it was inevitable that we would have fallen apart, and done so in a rather spectacular fashion – having a romantic entanglement only would have made our falling-out even more dramatic than it was in the end without one."
She held his gaze, waiting for his response.
Severus didn't want to admit that she had a point. He knew she did; he could see it, understand it even. Even now he still felt a degree of resentment towards Muggleborns, and he still despised Muggles. Officially, he claimed it was because they came into the wizarding world ignorant of its traditions and values, and attempted to impose and supplant their own in their place.
He might be able to admit to himself, and only in the privacy of his own mind, that that was due in part to his upbringing that he despised Muggles so thoroughly, and gave him cause to resent other Muggle-raised children whose guardians had been more accepting of their abilities than his father had been of his. His disdain for blood-traitors was doubtless due to his disgust with his mother. None of that, however, was anything he could ever bring himself to acknowledge to anyone else.
He had a feeling, however, that Lily had tolerated his prejudices as long as he had because she understood where they found their roots, and was able to overlook them so long because he kept them hidden from her as well as he could. Being older now and a little wiser, however, allowed him to see more clearly that those feelings created a gulf between the two of them that eventually would have grown difficult to bridge.
And his pride had certainly not diminished with age; though he had learned by necessity the art of feigning humility when the situation called for it. But had he never become a Death Eater, he might not have learned that lesson until it was too late to salvage their relationship. A failed romance with the girl he had loved since the age of nine might have resulted in his becoming a Death Eater later on without ever repenting.
"I see your point," he said slowly. "But I have loved you since I was a nine-year-old child, and do so even now; though it has been nine years since we last spoke on friendly terms – though you married, had a child, and have now been dead for three years – my love for you has not diminished in the slightest."
She began to cry at that. "Oh Sev," she whispered. "I'm sorry that I hurt you so much." She wrapped her arms around herself; a gesture he remembered well. "I may have fallen out of love with you romantically; but know that I never stopped loving you as someone dear to my heart, and that love never diminished with the years, either."
He surged forward, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her onto his lap. For a long while after that, they simply cried together, their tears cleansing the old hurts they had finally confessed to one another.
Eventually, they dried their tears, but did not separate. It was a balm to Severus' soul to be able to hold her again, as he had not since they were children together. He pulled her closer, fitting her against him; slotting her between his legs and turning her to face the side where she could lean against his chest with her head tucked under his chin, their arms wrapped securely around one another. Finally, finally, he felt ready to ask questions a little further from his heart.
"How is it that you're still here, Lily? I never would have thought you – or Potter either, for that matter," he admitted grudgingly, "would have been so afraid of death that you would return as a ghost."
Lily laughed tearfully from his arms. "It wasn't that we were afraid of death – we were afraid of leaving Harry. He didn't follow us into the afterlife – my ritual worked – and we needed to be assured of his safety. While the ritual I designed would protect him from You-Know-Who, it offered no protection from Death Eaters. We needed to come back to make sure he was safe, and to be there when he got older; so that even though he wouldn't be growing up under the care of his parents, he could still meet us and know we love him. We wanted to watch him grow up." Her voice wavered, so small and forlorn that his heart clenched.
"The Containment Wards on the house prevent unwanted entry by any being – human or creature; magical or Muggle. Unfortunately, they also unintentionally prevent any exit, as well. And since the Concealment Wards make anything personal to the Potter family invisible from the outside, it also renders us invisible outside the wards. Which makes sense, since we consider ourselves pretty personal." Severus snorted at her feeble joke.
Then the reality of what she'd said hit him. "Are you saying that the two of you have been trapped here for the past three years with only one another for company?" There was a note of incredulity in his voice, but it was rather unheard of. Ghosts were typically free to choose the locations they would haunt, though they would materialize – more or less – in the places of their deaths when they first returned to the mortal plane.
Lily chuckled. "Not quite three years, but close. I'd say it hasn't been that bad, but that wouldn't be entirely true. Of course, it hasn't been completely unbearable; it has, however, been quite difficult at times. I love James, but there are times we drive one another quite mad."
"You've been trapped here with no one but Potter for company for almost three years," he said flatly. "That would be sufficient to drive anyone mad."
She punched him on the shoulder. "Behave!"
He rolled his eyes and deigned not to comment further. Instead he decided to offer her aid. "I'm going to adjust the wards to allow you and Potter to leave before I go, and you'll be able to haunt whatever location you'd like. I'll just fit your magical signatures in as exceptions like I did for myself."
"I'm a Potter too now, you know," she reminded him with an amused quirk of her lips. He successfully hid the slight ache in his chest at the reminder, as well as the feeling of bitterness that accompanied it. "But I'm afraid that won't work, Sev. We're ghosts; we don't have the same kind of magical signatures living wizards and witches do. These particular wards would have to be lifted completely for a few moments to let us out from behind them." She paused.
"Do you think you could manage that?" There was a note of hopeful eagerness in her voice, and Severus shifted uncomfortably.
"I will make an effort to do so," he said slowly. "But when I examined them earlier, I found that they would be nearly impossible to lift by anyone who was not involved in their casting. Which likely means that I will have to involve the Ministry in order to lift them." He gave her an apologetic look, and she smiled back, though she did look slightly disappointed.
"Ah," she said. "That's alright. It's not your fault."
"I will endeavour to secure their aid in releasing you as soon as I possibly can," he offered. "I'm sorry I cannot manage it tonight, though."
Lily's smile grew wider at his words. "Thank you, Sev. That would be wonderful – and after all, we've been trapped here for nearly three years; what's a few days or weeks more, when we know we will be released soon?"
He smiled back; and she adjusted her seating position to lean against the wall, wrapping both arms around one upright leg, bent at the knee.
"So, what's been happening in your life over the last few years, Sev?"
Severus chewed his lip, wondering how much Lily had known about his circumstances before she died. She obviously knew he had become a Death Eater, and that he had later regretted the decision; but he wondered if she was aware that he had been the one to carry news of the prophecy to the Dark Lord.
"You know I became a Death Eater, but were you aware that I later became a spy for Dumbledore?"
Lily nodded. "Yes, Dumbledore told us that you regretted telling Voldemort about the prophecy when you learned that it had put your old friend in danger, and had agreed to become a spy if he would protect me and my family."
Well, that answered that question.
"I'm so sorry, Lily." His voice was low as shame and regret coursed through him.
"So you said when you first came up here – over and over." Lily took his chin and turned his head to look at her as she pulled away slightly and tipped her head back to meet his gaze. "And due to your obvious grief, I decided to forgive you. I'm not a fan of pointless castigation, so there's no point in discussing the subject further." Her tone indicated that she considered the matter closed, and would brook no argument on the subject.
He coughed to cover his discomfiture. "Well, I was tried and acquitted of being a Death Eater after the Dark Lord fell-"
"So he's gone?" Excitement coursed through Lily's voice. "We thought that might have been what happened, but we weren't completely positive."
"He's gone," confirmed Severus. "The killing curse he cast at your son rebounded and destroyed his body; along with half the house."
"A worthwhile sacrifice to protect Harry," said Lily with a note of satisfaction in her voice. "I wasn't sure if any spells he cast at Harry would rebound on him – theoretically, they should have; but the ritual was untried, untested, and there was no way to know for sure until after I was dead – or if any spells he fired would simply be absorbed by the ritual magic; all I knew was that it was the best chance of keeping my baby safe. If it worked."
"You're going to have to tell me about this ritual," Severus commented, intrigued despite himself. "I must admit to being quite curious."
"Later," Lily insisted, waving him aside. "After we finish this discussion. So he's really gone, then?" She looked quite pleased. "I thought it might fit the requirements of the prophecy – the ritual could have given him the power the Dark Lord knew not, and either it would work and the Dark Lord would likely be destroyed, or it would fail and Harry would..." Her voice faltered.
"Well, the ritual was a resounding success," Severus informed her dryly. "Your son survived with only a small curse scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt."
Lily nodded. "Actually, that would be the Elder Futhark rune Sowilo; the later, or 'S' variant. It symbolizes the sun; the Light, with the implications of a shield, of protection and fortune, and the giving of life. Part of the ritual I repeated every day was tracing that rune in a thin line onto Harry's forehead with my own blood, since I would be providing the sacrifice if completion of the ritual became necessary. When the ritual was completed, the killing curse should have seared the rune into a permanent scar. As long as he bears that scar, he will carry the protection I bought him through my willing blood-sacrifice; a sacrifice made through pure, deep, and abiding love."
Severus dipped his head, absorbing the new information and accepting it as a logical explanation for the curse scar. "At any rate; Potter Jr. survived, and is now celebrated throughout the wizarding world as 'The Boy Who Lived'." He couldn't quite keep all of the scorn he felt out of his voice, so he hurriedly went on before she could rebuke him for it.
"However," he said, not wanting her to get too excited before he was forced to break the bad news to her. "Dumbledore does not feel that the Dark Lord is gone for good. He doesn't feel that the circumstances of that night fulfill the full prophecy."
Lily's face fell at that, and he felt a stab of regret in his gut. However, he knew that she would be furious with him if he kept the truth from her. Since he fully intended to have someone from the Ministry release the wards on the cottage long enough to free the trapped Potters as soon as he could, he knew that she would find out eventually. Better to be honest with her up front.
"The Dark Lord was not vanquished by your son's own actions that night, and the second half of the prophecy was not yet applicable. Dumbledore isn't sure yet what it refers to, or when it might become applicable; but he believes the Dark Lord to have only been temporarily banished."
"I see." Lily said softly, sadly. "I had so hoped Harry wouldn't have to deal with it."
"Dumbledore believes your son was protected by your love; by your sacrifice." Severus couldn't help wanting to hear her refute it. He now understood that 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' had been protected by a ritual his mother had designed, but hearing that the son had not survived at the cost of his mother, only in spite of it, would doubtless make him resent the brat's survival a little less.
"What Dumbledore said was basically true," affirmed Lily. "There was a lot more to it than that, but that was the catalyst – an unarmed intercessor offering his or her life in exchange for that of the one to be protected. The ritual caused my death following that offer to be construed as a binding magical contract between myself and the one who killed me – the promise you secured from Voldemort that he would not kill me in exchange for you giving him information that was intended to save his life helped with that, by the way; since it was information that could potentially save his life, Magic herself considered it a binding contract, which I was able to transfer to Harry through the ritual. So really, I am very grateful to you for that – since the ritual ensured that any attempt to break the contract would be unsuccessful. If it worked as intended, Magic herself would punish the Oath-Breaker by rebounding any magic used against the protected one against the caster; though I wasn't sure if Voldemort's promise to you would be strong enough to enforce that part. Dumbledore knew the basic theory behind the ritual I was trying to prepare, which is why he knows enough about what happened to postulate his theory."
Severus' eyes widened, the admission of Lily purchasing her son's life with her own laid aside for the moment. "I've never heard of magic capable of doing such a thing," he admitted.
Lily grinned at him. "Remind me to tell you sometime about the Ancient Magics that were once known as Black and White Magic. They were a separate type of Magics from Dark, Light, or Neutral Magics; they consisted largely of ritual magic and the altogether were collectively known as Sacrifice Magic. All Blood Magic falls under that category; though Black and White Magics were far more extensive, complicated, and powerful than any type of magic we use today. The theory behind them is fascinating!" She ducked her head the silver in her cheeks darkening slightly. "I'd love the chance to discuss it with you sometime. I've missed our intellectual debates and discussions."
Severus nodded, feeling a lump in his throat at the idea of once again postulating obscure magical theory with his brilliant friend as they had when they were younger. He had no idea how far her studies had advanced, and the reality of how much time he'd lost with her hit him full force. He bowed his head, blinking back tears.
She leaned into him once again, tightening her arms around him in a hug. He accepted the offered comfort without a word, grateful for her silence and understanding of his emotions. After a moment, he composed himself and decided to continue telling her about himself.
"I achieved my Potions Mastery two years out of Hogwarts-"
"Sev!" she cried out, hugging him tightly. "That's wonderful!" She looked up, beaming at him. "You always were absolutely brilliant. And two years out of Hogwarts? You must be the youngest Potions Master in centuries!"
He flushed at her praise, but couldn't help the rush of pleasure he felt. People did not often praise him without ulterior motives. He cleared his throat, rushing to continue.
"In order to become an effective spy for the Order, I needed a reason to see Dumbledore often without raising the suspicions of the Dark Lord. He already wanted a way to spy on Dumbledore and the Order – already had a spy, though his spy only had limited information, and he wanted more – so Dumbledore suggested planting the idea in the Dark Lord's mind that having someone on staff at Hogwarts would be an effective way to keep track of the Headmaster's movements and glean additional information. It worked, and the Dark Lord ordered me to apply. I wanted the DADA position, but Dumbledore refused to give it to me, since there appears to be a curse on the position. Instead, he made me Potions Professor and Head of House for Slytherin. He tasked me with spying for the Order when I could, told me what information was safe to pass on to the Dark Lord and what wasn't, and doing my best to protect and guide the Slytherins, hopefully preventing them from turning to the Dark like I had."
Lily's eyes softened as she regarded him. "I think it might also have been to protect you, a little bit."
At his confused look, she explained. "I'm sure that it made him feel rather guilty to think about how unfairly he treated you with relation to the Gryffindors in your Hogwarts years; so having you live at Hogwarts for nine and a half months out of the year would have minimized the amount of time you had to spend in Voldemort's presence. He mentioned once that Voldemort enjoyed torturing his followers for perceived failures, disobedience, or disrespect, and that even his most faithful would find themselves at times dancing at the wrong end of their Lord's wand."
Severus mulled that over for a bit.
"You could be right," he admitted at length. "But he's never really apologized for any of those mistakes he made with me as a student – not without making excuses and justifications for them – and he hasn't changed his way of dealing with students at all. He still sees all of the Slytherins as future Dark wizards from the moment they're sorted, and all Gryffindors as noble paragons of bravery." His voice dripped sarcasm when he mentioned the Lion House.
"He also waves aside any concerns I bring him regarding bullying or suspicions about possible victims of abuse, saying that I'm projecting." The frustration in his voice was palpable. "I've started to think I should just give up on trying to make a difference, because his willful blindness thwarts me in most cases. I do my best by the students in my own House, and I try to balance the favouritism and inequality they face by favouring them in return; but that, of course, only makes the students of the other three Houses resent me and my snakes even more, because they're so blind and ignorant they can't see that I'm merely trying to balance the scales."
There was an air of defeat about him as he spoke, and Lily frowned. "That isn't right, Sev. I think that while he does feel that guilt, since he also feels the need to justify it, and therefore he hasn't learned from it. And there is probably a small part of him – deeply buried, I'm certain – that still sees you as a Slytherin, and together with your own past experiences he thinks it makes you too biased to be believed about Inter-House relations. Which means he needs someone he sees as an unbiased observer – someone who was not a Slytherin – to point it out when he's being unfair."
Severus snorted. "Yes," he drawled. "Because the other professors are just lining up to do that."
Lily chewed her lip. "Is Binns still teaching?" she asked abruptly.
Severus blinked at the abrupt change of subject. "Yes...?"
Lily twirled her hair with her finger absently. "You know," she said thoughtfully. "During the war, I thought that when it was all over, I wanted to go before the Hogwarts Board of Governors and make a case for adding an old elective back onto the curriculum – 'History of Magical Theory'."
Seeing his quizzical expression, she launched into an explanation.
"It's a course that first looks at the modern theories behind various spells, potions, rituals, wards, etc., along with their classifications and the reasons for those. Then it examines how those classifications have changed over the years; and the social, cultural, and political reasons for those changes; along with looking at the original intentions of each and how those intentions different from results or usage. How they were altered over the years to achieve different or more exact results, and the various aspects of magical theory came into play with all of it. The course also takes a look at the differences in the Magics of various different countries and cultures around the world, and some of the differences in theory that accompany them. There's an overview of some of the reasons for and history behind how and why different Magics came to be practiced where – which ties in to the next part of the course.
"After going over all of that, the course moves on to examine the differences between Modern Magics and Old Magics – along with the differences in magical theory that accompany them. The students would be shown similarities and parallels in the way many modern Magics from different places in the world developed from a single point of common use in Old Magics, but changed according to the culture and socio-political climate they were developed in. The course would examine how and why much of the Old Magics fell out of use and practice, examining various possible social, cultural, and political reasons; or the ways in which they were adapted to modern spells, rituals, and potions, along with the benefits and drawbacks of those changes. Most of that would be covered before they write their OWLs; but the Old Magics would be examined in greater depth afterwards. In their NEWT year, they would also be given a brief introduction to the theory behind Ancient Magics – though I wouldn't cover much of Black Magic in class.
"Before you say anything, Sev," she added, giving him a stern look, "Black Magic generally involves murder; and always involves the suffering of an innocent. It is altogether different from Dark Magic, which could potentially be used for good. It is impossible to perform Black Magic of any kind with good intentions. That is one of its defining characteristics.
"By explaining how the risks and harm coupled with Black Magic completely outweigh any benefits of it, I hope to prevent it from appearing too attractive to any students. I would cover just enough of it to discourage its use by making it clear that it is an evil beyond the Unforgivable curses. In fact, the reason it fell out of use was that it caused irreparable harm to the soul of anyone who used it – and the more powerful the rituals and spells performed with it, the greater the harm to the user as well as the innocents involved. Dementors were created with Black Magic, Sev."
His eyes widened and he stared at her in horror at the idea of a type of magic that could create living creatures that were semi-sentient; not to mention that they were so evil, and nearly impossible to destroy.
She nodded to show how serious she was as she added, "I wouldn't teach very much about the Sacrifice Magics. Just enough to provide some theoretical basis for how our use of magic has evolved over the millennia, and where its roots lie. Just enough to clarify the differences between Black and White Magics, and to impress upon them that nothing can be accomplished with Black Magic that couldn't be accomplished with White Magic; so the damage to their souls could never possibly be worth the results of using it; not when there is a perfectly viable alternative that wouldn't cost them so much. I'd also stress that even most White Magic should only be used in times of most urgent and dire need.
"I was fairly positive that Voldemort used some Black Magic – and the fact that he survived having his body obliterated by the magical contract violation proves it. Keeping the general population ignorant of Black and White Magic won't stop people from using them; it just keeps the innocent ignorant of the machinations of the guilty who are intelligent enough to conduct thorough research."
She coughed, her cheeks flooding with silver as she ducked her head in embarrassment. "Sorry for rambling like that," she murmured.
Severus smiled, even though his head was spinning with all of the information she'd just given him. "I didn't mind. It's fascinating; and I've greatly missed hearing your enthusiastic tangents."
She looked back at him and smiled again. "At any rate; that was the course outline I came up with. Back then, I figured I could offer to teach it at a reduced wage for the first five years – long enough for the first batch of students who had started it in their third year to write their NEWTs – and if they determined that it was a sufficiently valuable course at that time then they would keep it – and me – around."
Severus' head was still swimming with the sudden influx of information, and he was torn between demanding that she share the missing pieces with him now, swallowing back an aching sense of mourning for the loss of her dream, and setting aside an intense longing to see the course she'd laid out made into a reality at Hogwarts. Perhaps later, once he'd freed her and Potter from their unintentional prison. Lily's next words, however, stole the breath right out of his lungs.
"Maybe I should see if the board would be willing to consider hiring another ghost. It would be a way of upgrading the curriculum without any additional costs to the school. And then you would have someone around who'd be willing to see your side of things – having a former Gryffindor in your corner willing to speak out loudly and endlessly when she thinks you're right and tell you in an aside when she thinks you're wrong could only help you out."
She glanced at her friend and smirked at him in that sly way he had always loved so well; the way that made him wistfully wonder if she could have ever belonged to his House.
Severus swallowed around yet another damn lump in his throat. "You would do that?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper. "For me?"
"Of course I would! Idiot!" She punched his shoulder lightly. "It's not as if it's some selfless proposition, anyway. I had already thought it would be something I would very much want to do – though I had hoped to do quite a bit more research prior to taking it on."
She furrowed her brows in thought for a moment. "Perhaps I could get some students interesting in assisting me with research for extra credit. Or," she paused as a considering look came over her face and she eyed him carefully, "Perhaps you could devise a spell or two that would help me be able to continue researching, even as a ghost?" Her voice took on a wheedling tone at the end, and his lips twitched in amusement.
"How could I refuse, when you ask so nicely?" he murmured. She laughed.
There was a knock on the frame of the nursery door. "You two done with your private tête-à-tête yet? Or do I need to come back a little later?"
"No; it's alright, James," Lily replied quickly, before Severus had a chance to snark out that he should come back much later – preferably never. "Come on in."
Potter drifted back into the room. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of his wife essentially sitting on another man's lap; and he opened his mouth to say something about it, before he seemed to think better of it and looked away. Severus wondered if Lily had glared at her husband and he smirked, tightening his arms around his best friend.
"So, Sni-"
"James." Lily's voice could have frozen flames, and her husband immediately coughed and looked away.
"So, erm – Snape!" He said as pleasantly as he could manage; which wasn't very."You sort of owe me a life-debt."
Lily moved to stand up. "James..." she started, but he straightened and held up his hand for silence.
"No, Lily. This is too important to dismiss." His eyes flicked over to Severus. "And I'm sure he'd like to be rid of that life-debt, since it creates all kind of complications when the person you owe a life-debt to dies without you paying it back. You know that."
Lily chewed her lip. "Just tell me what you're planning, first? I don't want you hurting him any more than you already have, during all our years at Hogwarts!"
Potter looked a little hurt. "You know I've grown up since then," he said in a slightly stiff tone. "But to answer your question; it's about Harry. We can't leave here yet, and we have no idea what's happened to Harry or where he's been since we died. I just want to know that he's safe and well-cared for. I've had this horrible feeling ever since we came back that something isn't right with my boy, and I just want him to check on Harry and make sure everything's okay."
Severus considered for a moment, and nodded. "I could agree to a repayment like that," he said. It was a rather good deal, as far as he was concerned.
Potter nodded. "Just tell us what you know about Harry, and I'll be able to figure out how to word the request."
Severus gave a very small nod. "I suppose I could do that," he admitted with some reluctance.
Potter rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on; lighten up, Sniv-"
"James Charlus Potter, do not finish that sentence!" Lily twisted around in Severus' embrace, glaring at her husband. "You will not call him that, understand?"
He scowled but acquiesced with a muttered, "Yes, dear."
Severus suddenly found himself feeling much more cheerful.
Potter huffed, then sighed. He raked his fingers through his hair and gnawed on his lip before turning back to face the former Slytherin. "Well?" he pressed. "What can you tell us about Harry?"
Severus pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "I'm afraid that there isn't a lot I can tell you. He's considered the wizarding world's hero; dubbed as such by the press – along with such monikers as, 'The Savior of the Wizarding World' – 'Savior' or 'The Savior' for short, with the word 'Savior' used interchangeably with the word 'Hero' – 'Dumbledore's Golden Boy', 'The Chosen One', and 'The Vanquisher of the Dark Lord' seem to be the most popular titles in the press." His lip curled a little as he recited the list of completely unwarranted titles the idiot public had placed so undeservedly on the spoiled little brat.
"That's..." Lily sounded vaguely horrified as her voice trailed off. "He can't grow up like that! It will ruin him!"
Severus snorted. "Well, Albus placed him in the Muggle world where he'll be safe and protected behind blood wards and grow up without the attention he would receive in the magical world. He's still to be spoiled and treated lavishly; but this way the only ones fawning over him from his infancy will be his family."
"Blood wards? In the Muggle world?" Lily's voice was suddenly sharp; almost vicious, and it startled him. "What are you talking about, Sev?"
He was slightly taken aback by the vehemence in her tone, and felt it would be unwise to delay giving her the explanation she was after. "Dumbledore placed the boy with your sister and her family, in order to keep the protection he gained from your sacrifice alive in his blood."
Lily's eyes narrowed into slits, as she leapt to her feet and began pacing. "That lying, manipulative, conniving old fool!" she hissed.
Something in Severus' gut squirmed uncomfortably, but he brushed it off and attempted to placate his friend. "I'm not sure I see the problem – Dumbledore has charms on the property and on the boy to monitor his health, safety, and general well-being. He's also installed a squib in a home nearby who gives him regular reports. He's assured us all that Harry is being well looked-after, if slightly spoiled – though nothing to the degree that he would be if he was being raised in the wizarding world – and that he's happy and doing well."
Lily shot him a look of such intense loathing that he reared back as though she'd struck him. "You're really going to sit there and pretend you don't remember Petunia?"
"It's not as though she'll mistreat him!" Severus snapped, defensive for reasons he wasn't ready to examine too closely at the moment. "He's her nephew!"
"Yes," Lily bit back, eyes glittering like ice. "And I was her sister." Her eyes narrowed further and her voice dropped. "And Tobias was your father, and Eileen your mother. You know better than most how little blood actually matters."
Severus looked away uncomfortably. He didn't like to think of the implications of that. "Surely she wouldn't…" he began, but was cut off.
"In case you weren't paying attention earlier, Severus, I believe that I already mentioned that the protection is carried forward through Harry's rune scar. Blood wards have nothing to do with it! It doesn't matter where he lives, or with whom; my sacrifice is carried around with him wherever he goes!" Lily balled her fists at her sides. "Dumbledore knows that! I told him that when I explained the purpose of the ritual! That no-good-"
She was gaining in volume, gearing up for a long rant; but Potter cut in quickly, giving Severus a hard look.
"Why isn't Harry with Sirius?" he demanded, and really, that was just about it from that brainless idiot.
"Perhaps that would be because that traitor is in Azkaban, where he belongs. Or have you forgotten about your Secret Keeper betraying your whereabouts to the Dark Lord?" He glared darkly, his tone acerbic.
Both Lily and her husband stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Severus," Lily whispered. "Sirius wasn't our Secret Keeper. Peter was."
Severus stared in shock. "But Dumbledore said that it was Black. He said you told him you were using Black."
"We told Dumbledore that. We also told him later on that we'd changed our minds; that Sirius was too obvious a choice, and we'd decided to go with Peter instead." There was a coldness to Lily's voice that made Severus wince. "Dumbledore knows that Sirius wasn't our Secret Keeper. Why on earth would he lie and keep the Death Eater who betrayed us out of Azkaban and have Sirius sent there in his place?"
"How could he do something like that?" Potter sounded so lost and confused it annoyed Severus to no end.
"In case you hadn't noticed, Potter," he sneered, "Dumbledore does what he wants. He discriminates against Slytherins; makes them feel completely ostracized and unwelcomed by anyone on the side of the Light, ignores or minimizes any wrongs done to them by his precious Gryffindors, and has no qualms about hurting others to follow his own agenda.
"As for your friend – Black killed Pettigrew. Fudge overheard Pettigrew shouting that Black had been your Secret Keeper, demanded to know how he could have betrayed you. In response, Black blew up the street where they were arguing; which killed the traitor along with twelve Muggles. All they could find of Pettigrew was his finger. Black just stood there laughing like a madman, and when the Aurors came he was in a daze and just kept repeating over and over that it was his fault you two had died. That's what got him sent to Azkaban."
They ghosts were silent for a moment, processing what they heard. "And Sirius' wand was tested for the spell that blew up the street? He never denied being our Secret Keeper during his trial?" Potter's voice was filled with resignation.
"Well," Severus started, before trailing off uncomfortably. "He didn't exactly have a trial."
The ghosts stared at him in horror.
"You should know that Pettigrew was a rat animagus, Severus," said Lily quietly. "He could have blown up the street and cut off his own finger in order to escape. I doubt the Death Eaters would be very happy with him if they found him, so it's quite likely that he went into hiding. What he shouted at Sirius was likely his attempt to frame Sirius for his own betrayal."
"And Sirius was the one to suggest that we use Peter for our Secret Keeper, which is undoubtedly why he felt our deaths were his fault," James added, looking stricken. "We have to help him." He turned pleading eyes on Severus. "I know you hated each other, but he doesn't deserve Azkaban. He's an idiot; but being a fool isn't enough to earn the Dementors' torment. Please. Help him."
"At least think of how satisfying it would be to have Sirius Black in your debt, Severus," added Lily, looking at him beseechingly.
Severus paused, considering that aspect of the situation.
"He's already spent three years in Azkaban; surely that's payment enough for his childhood and teenage idiocy towards you," Lily added, her voice soft and beseeching.
Severus sighed, annoyed to no end by the twinging of his conscience at the thought of leaving Black to the Dementors' loving care. He met Potter's eyes, noting the distress that filled them with petty satisfaction. "So, in payment of the Life Debt I owe you, you want me to help Black get a trial, and look out for your son?"
"Yes," Potter said firmly. "If you, Severus Tobias Snape, help to clear Sirius Orion Black's name and you do what you can to protect Harry James Potter until he is of age, any and all debts to me, James Charlus Potter, will be considered paid in full. So mote it be."
Recognising the ceremony, Severus was quick to respond. "I, Severus Tobias Snape, will my best to help clear the name of Sirius Orion Black, and will protect Harry James Potter to the best of my ability until he is of age, in payment of my debts to James Charlus Potter."
A faint light shimmered between them, indicating that Magic had heard and accepted the Oath. Severus was slightly surprised that it had worked, considering Potter's current state of non-being, but he was glad. Doubly glad that Potter had sworn all debts were paid in full, rather than simply specifying the Life Debt, as it cleared up any potential issues from the unintentional part he had played in their deaths.
"You should know," he said, glancing at Lily. "That I swore an Oath to Dumbledore, on Lily's memory, that I would protect her son once he rejoined the magical world as penance for the part I played in your deaths."
Lily smiled, both pleased and pained. "Thank you, Severus." Her voice was soft, but the hesitance in it indicated that she had something to ask of him; something he would probably dislike very much. She lifted her chin and met his gaze head on.
"You swore that Oath to Dumbledore; not to me. And you promised James just now that you would protect Harry from this point on; not just when he enters Hogwarts. So I'm going to ask that you give me another promise to clear up any debt from telling Voldemort about the prophecy."
He swallowed, a sense of foreboding filling him, completely unsure as to the nature of her request.
"I want you to force yourself to see Harry as his own person; not James' son. To see him as my son; the only part of me that still lives, and the thing most precious to me when I lived – to see your responsibility of protecting him as my having charged you with safeguarding the most important thing in my life, and my trusting you to care for it properly. To attempt to be civil when you deal with Sirius and Remus, for Harry's sake, since you'll be keeping an eye on him and will probably come into contact with them, and it's important that Harry not have to face discord and hatred between his guardians."
Severus opened his mouth to protest that Black wouldn't be capable of keeping a civil tongue in his head with regards to Severus, but Lily beat him to it.
"Since Sirius feels some responsibility for our deaths, I'll be demanding that he be civil to you as well, and not say anything to Harry against you as payment for that debt. Remus is mature enough to do that without being forced to. I know it will be difficult, but the Oaths that I'll have the two of you swear will help keep tensions between the two of you to a minimum. I'm specifying this because I don't believe that you would be willing to do it otherwise, and eliminating strife between his protectors is an important part of ensuring Harry is cared for properly. Caring for him goes beyond protecting him physically, into protecting him emotionally as well. I hope that you grow to care about him eventually; but regardless, I want to know that you do not cause him pain, and will take steps to stop him from being placed into any painful positions other than those that are normal for a child, as long as it is within your power to do so."
Her voice was gentle, and Severus tore her gaze away, trying to reconcile the emotions churning inside him with the charge she had given him. He understood her reasons for asking this of him, and could admit to himself that it was necessary. He still didn't like it, but he resigned himself to it without any outward sign of the fierce battle he had fought within himself to do so.
He closed his eyes and sighed. "I will do the best I can," he offered.
"Thank you, Severus," she replied. When he opened his eyes again, she was smiling.
Potter moved towards her then, placing an arm around her shoulders and giving her a slight squeeze. "At least now we don't have to worry about Harry so much, Lils," he murmured, and she smiled up at him. There was something in her face as she looked at her husband that made his heart ache; something that was missing when she looked at him, that he only realised in retrospect due to their earlier conversation had once been in her eyes when she looked at him. He tore his eyes away, stung by the sight.
Severus rose to his feet abruptly. "I'm going to head out and look up some of the Ministry laws and regulations, to prepare for taking care of the tasks you've given me – freeing Black, freeing the two of you, and custody guidelines for your son," he informed them in his usual closed-off tone. "In the morning I'll head out to your sister's house and check on the boy."
"Thank you, Sev," Lily repeated, smiling brightly at him. The moonlight glinting off of her ghostly colouring made her look ethereal, and almost more beautiful than she'd been in life. She hugged him once more, and he held her as close as he could before releasing her and turning to leave.
He knew she would never belong to him; not in life, not in death. He swore to himself as he clutched her that this was the last time he would grieve for what might have been – and even as he promised himself, he knew it was a lie.
For the thousandth time in the years since he was only nine-years-old, Severus Snape felt that he might never be able to let go of the girl he considered the love of his life; that no matter what happened, he would never love again.
That thought led to a crushing pain in his chest that saw him faltering for only the briefest moment before he approached the edge of the wards. He donned his disguise and the disillusionment charm once again and wearily headed for home.