1.

Severus Snape was not a happy man. Of course, for him 'happy' had always been a relative concept, the meaning of it having always eluded him. He had thought himself happy the day he received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts, which had quickly been topped by his first visit to Diagon Alley that same summer. Oh, he wasn't a muggle-born, he'd understood the concept of magic well enough from an early age; Eileen had seen to that, but he had been kept from the novelties of that world for other reasons.

He scowled over the cauldron as memories of his mother flashed through his mind, uninvited and ambivalent as always, while his hands continued their well rehearsed movements of chopping, stirring and adjusting the intensity of the flame.

"Eileen..." he muttered darkly.

His mother had been quite a talented witch, beautiful to behold, and certainly affectionate enough. But her complete deference to her husband had soured her brilliance. Tobias Snape had been, in so many words, a right bastard. A love for the bottle; 'a wee drop 'o the creature' as he'd call it, which more often than not quickly turned from a drop to heaving gulps, left a man more beast than man who was equally unstable. A fear of all things magical, or rather all things 'abnormal', had rounded out the equation quite nicely.

Oh yes, Eileen had seen to it that he knew enough about the magical world, and even made him feel loved on occasion. Tobias, on the other hand, had seen to it that he resented both of those lessons. He'd still called her mother then, but a particularly nasty lesson on acceptable manly behavior from Tobias had made sure that he'd never do so again. 'A man doesn't cry for his mommy' he'd croaked into Severus' face that day, once he'd given it a thorough once-over with his tender affections.

Severus shook his head to clear the thoughts from his mind. It was useless to dwell on it, both of them were gone now. While he still held fond memories of his mother, out of nostalgia if nothing else, the thought of Tobias rotting a few feet under could actually make the ghost of a smile creep across his set features. It was a bit morbid, he supposed, but then again so was he.

He wasn't an evil man, at least he didn't think so. Not really, he knew he was capable of compassion at least, he'd displayed it often enough even if he was a bit selective about who deserved it. 'And love' a small voice whispered in the back of his mind.

His expression softened a bit at that.

"Lily..." he murmured, dropping a pinch of acramantula hair into the potion before him. It fizzed slightly, a faint vapor the color of primrose wafted up from the cauldron. He allowed himself a small whiff. "Elderflowers..."

It was a stupid, sentimental thing to do. The potion was untested, it could have easily been deadly, but at the moment he didn't care. Elderflowers indeed, a twist of fate perhaps. They had been in bloom that day when he'd ventured over Crestwick Hill from his home on Spinners End and seen her for the first time. Hair the deepest ruby red, like flames or the plum of a Phoenix he'd seen in one of Eileens magical tomes she hid from Tobias behind the undisturbed row of pickled onions in the cellar.

"Eyes the color of spring grass..."

To his irrational embarrassment, he felt unshed tears prickle behind his own eyes. Swallowing hard, he rested the ladle at three-o-clock and went to wash his hands in the basin off the workbench. It would need to simmer for a few hours yet.

He retreated up the creaking stars from the cellar, leaving the door open so any fumes indicating a problem with his brew could alert him. Pouring himself a few fingers of muggle whiskey, he slumped in the worn armchair. It had been oxblood once, he was sure. He thought he could even remember it being thus, but the creaky leather was now the color and texture of clay, cracked from the sun and lack of rain. It was the only affect of Tobias still present at Number 14 Spinners End. He didn't rightly know why he kept it. Certainly not as a keepsake, but the small sitting room just didn't seem the same without the sad piece of furniture positioned in front of the spartan fireplace.

He took a long sip from his glass, and for a long moment he contemplated nothing but the smooth texture of the liquid and the comforting burning sensation it gave as it traveled down his throat, finally resting like a warming charm in his gut. Feeling some of the tension leave him, he allowed his mind to wander once again to the memories of her. Yes, he was capable of love. He'd loved Lily, and despite his glum outlook on life, he'd actually allowed himself to believe for a while that somehow, his future would be one shared with her. He frowned in impotent anger. It might have been, he realized that, and he also knew without any doubt that he had lost her because of his anger and stubborn pride. She had been his only ally, his only true friend. 'And you stabbed her in the back... or worse yet, through the heart' the self-loathing, vindictive part of his mind cackled at him. He knew this part of his psyche well. It was confusing in many ways, while he was now the same sullen fool he could remember being most of his life, he also knew that he'd been happy once. Every memory of Lily was a happy one, in fact. 'Except for the last one'

One word, that's all it takes really. Some wounds are difficult to heal, and some, he'd discovered, are impossible to heal. 'Mudblood'

Even the thought of it made him flinch in his chair. He hated that word. It had taken everything from him, and for no reason other than his wounded pride, and his sick obsession to inflict pain on an adolescent rival. He'd known Potter fancied Lily, so he'd hurt the person who meant most to him in the world to get a smallest jab in. A bad trade if there ever was one. 'And then she died'

He sniffled then, unable to hold back completely, a few tears rolling down his gaunt cheeks. That too, had been his fault. Not by design, of course. He had never been loyal to the Dark Lord, but he had to keep up appearances, he had to deliver something, to prove his usefulness, without it the Order would have fumbled in darkness. He could never have believed that the Dark Lord, of all people, would put stock in seers, prophecy and trickery of the mind. It was because of this that he saw no danger in relaying what he had heard that day at the Hogs Head Inn. 'And it led him straight to her... and the girl.'

He shed no tears for Potter, though he admitted begrudgingly that he'd never had wished death upon the man for a childhood rivalry, or even if he allowed himself to se himself as the victim of a bully. But even if she was Potters child, he could not hold any ill will towards a child of Lilys'. The fact that the girl didn't carry Potters name helped, of course, and a part of him was amused that the heir to an old pureblood line would have a child out of wedlock, even if it had never been confirmed. 'I bet the pompous git was slightly relieved his parents didn't live to see the day' he mused darkly.

It had been over 4 years since that night, the child would be just over 5 years old now. The incessant speculation in The Prophet had died down just about a year after. With no news to report, the readership lost interest in the speculative musings, and the rag finally moved on to other, more pressing issues, such as Minister Bagnolds newest set of robes or if she'd deign to resign or simply croak in her office like her predecessor. Still, the topic of Holly Evans popped up occasionally, and when it did, something always compelled him to drink it all in. It was odd, he'd admit, he felt as if he knew her, but to his knowledge he'd never laid eyes on the child. He and Lily had not been on what one would call speaking terms at the end, but there was something about her. Mainly, if confused him as he normally disliked children.

In fact, this was the very reason why he was back in his childhood home. Normally, he'd spend all year in his quarters at Hogwarts, only returning sporadically to the house to confirm that it was, indeed, still standing. But this latest project required privacy, prying eyes would undermine everything. He liked the mechanics of his job, potions had always been his greatest love, but it was also because of that he found the subject frustrating to teach. It was not a popular subject with the students by any means, and he could never help but take the students disregard his passion as a personal insult. It was a shame, really, he'd taken the job, after all, because he had once genuinely been excited about teaching. But if Albus would continue to deny him the DADA professorship, as he had these past few years, there was little hope of him finding a teaching position where he could combine the desire to teach with a subject that he was competent in, but emotionally detached from. So he had resolved to seek a new career. But it was difficult. His war service was of a clandestine nature, and appearances had to be kept up even after the apparent victory over the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. After all, were it to be known that he had been in Albus pocket all along, keeping tabs on the Death Eaters still walking free would be nigh impossible. Unfortunately for him, this also meant that few people would hire him.

Potions, like they so often did, would provide him with the solution. He'd been working on the formula for two years. A healing potion, and hopefully a popular one at that, would gain him enough credibility and capital to become a respectable apothecary in his own right. The formula, in essence, was a restoration draught. Specifically, it would be able to revert the effects of obliviation. A dangerous potion, of course, and it would need to be strictly controlled, but useful never the less, and hopefully profitable enough. He fished his pocket watch out of his waistcoat and glanced at the time. 'It should be just about ready.'

~···························~

As the newly brewed purple liquid sat on the workbench to cool, he scribbled the last set of instructions on a piece of parchment. He wasn't a dunce when it came to spells and charms, but memory charms was not something one practiced regularly. He knew the theory, but he couldn't recall ever having used the charm. Pointing his wand at the parchment, he murmured a concealment charm, the password to unlock it would be the test, the only letters visible read 'The key' in elegant, albeit a bit severe, script.

"Into the fray." he muttered and turned the wand on himself, focusing on his memories of the last 5 minutes.

"Obliviate"

Severus blinked stupidly for a moment, staring blankly at the workbench in front of him before his mind came back into focus. He could feel the slight disorientation of the wipe. He knew why he'd come down here, and what he was doing, but it still felt like he had just woken up after falling asleep standing. He glanced down at the piece of parchment in front of him. 'Of course...'

He took the small vial from the counter, and after taking a deep breath, downed it in one large gulp.

The bitter taste was a bit unexpected, considering the flowery aroma, but he'd had worse. 'It could be a selling point'

He scowled, an odd sensation of an itch at the back of his mind as were it a physical part of his body made itself know. Suddenly, he fell to the floor in agony, bright flashes like lightning raced through him with furious intent.

"Lily, please..." he pleaded, chasing her down the charms corridor. She walked with a purpose, stomping furiously as she went. Her fiery mane bobbing along with the swift pace. Suddenly, she turned sharply, and he could not help but stop dead at her gaze.

"what?" she seethed "What could you possibly have to say to me? You've made it clear how you feel about 'people like me'" she emphasized, and he winced back as if she'd slapped him.

"I... I-" he stammered, his eyes sinking to the floor, but she cut him off.

"If you're so embarrassed to be seen with me-" she chocked, her breath hitched, and his eyes snapped up to hers in fear. The green pools were threatening to spill over. "I thought you cared about me-" He watched her lover lip tremble, and he couldn't think anymore, as if pushed by some outside force, he moved forward and embraced her tightly.

"Always..." he whispered hoarsely "more than you know. I love you, Lily, I'm so sorry, I-" she cut him off again, but this time by her lips crashing desperately against his own.

Severus gasped, his head pounded mercilessly and he felt a pressure behind his eyes threatening to plop the globes right out of their sockets. He dragged his convulsing body from the floor, trying to steady himself against the workbench when another flash sent him tumbling against it with a cry of agony.

Godrics Hollow, he had to admit despite his Slytherin pride, was picture perfect. Ancient and magic friendly, reasonably affordable even on a teachers salary, and once Lily went back to work they'd be quite comfortable. The cottage was spacious, 4 bedrooms and 2 baths, large fireplace suitable for a floo connection and a sitting room large enough to hold both of their extensive collections of book. Perfect.

He glanced over at the woman beside him, and could instantly tell that he wasn't the only one who thought so. The silly, dreamy grin was a dead giveaway of course, but so was the little twirling dance through the gate in the picket fence.

"Oh, Sev" she sighed "It's perfect!"

"Quite" he drawled teasingly, putting his arm around her shoulders. He let his arm drop slightly, reaching around her waist and landing his hand protectively over the small but noticeable bulge. He crouched down in front of her and fixed her stomach with the best teacher gaze he could muster under the circumstances.

"And what about you, huh?" he asked seriously "Think this will do?"

"You're silly" Lily chuckled "If only your housemates could see you now."

"I perish the thought." he chortled.

"I think she'd be satisfied enough" Lily said, placing her own hand on her stomach "Nice yard, plenty of room for flying with the right wards-"

"Flying?" he chocked out, rounding on her.

Lily laughed at the reaction "Yes, you know, stuff that kids do because it's fun?"

Severus grumbled, but had to admit that having a daughter who was sporting was an appealing thought. He never played himself, but he enjoyed Quidditch well enough as a spectator. They strolled through the rather large garden for a while, getting a feel for the place and the surroundings. It really was quite beautiful.

"Have you given any more thoughts to names yet?" she asked suddenly, sitting down on white bench on the edge of the property towards the woods.

"Some" he replied, settling down next to her, taking off his jacket and draping it across the backrest.

"And?" she prodded, poking him in the ribs lightly with her elbow.

"Well," he ventured "I know you said no flowers, and I still think Rose was a good suggestion by the way, but I was thinking... Holly?" he finished, eying her expectantly.

"Holly?" she replied, her face contorting slightly as she thought it over "...Holly" she repeated, falling into silence for a moment "I like it..."

Severus groaned with effort, dragging himself upright, he stumbled towards the stairs to the ground floor. He made it half way up before the visions claimed him again.

"I can't believe you" she seethed "you want to leave us behind so you can go play hero-"

"I don't 'want' to" he growled "I need to, the cause needs me to"

Lily huffed in frustration, angry tears forming in her eyes as she willed herself to stare him down again.

"And what about us? We don't need you?"

"Of course..." he sighed in defeat "of course you do, and I need you... both. But in order for this to work completely, I need to be deep undercover, there can be nothing to connect me to my real life."

"Albus, damn him..." Lily growled, and despite himself he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Indeed... but he's right about this, Lily, anyone else would be too suspect. And it could save a lot of lives."

"I know." she sighed "I know. But a memory charm?"

"The Dark Lord-"

"I wish you wouldn't call him that." she frowned

"-You-Know-Who is a skilled Legilimens, it's the only way to avoid detection with anycertainty... Besides, Albus is confident he can reverse it completely if he's the one who performs the charm."

"And what about us?" she asked, resigned.

"You'll stay here, we'll put the cottage under the Fidelius, and someone from the Order will stay here with you as well..." he said, pausing for a moment "Potter, I think." he finished with a scowl.

Lily sighed, but nodded. She tucked Holly into her carrier by to sofa and stood, letting him embrace her. "So, when do we begin?"

With a final grunt, he managed to grab a pinch of floo power, throwing it into the fireplace "Hogwarts, Hospital Wing" he croaked out hoarsely, and with a brilliant green light, he was spirited away.

~···························~

Consciousness returned to him slowly and painfully. His head was still pounding, and he struggled to even squint against the bright light. A felt a familiar presence appeared at his side.

"What did you do to yourself, Severus?" Poppy Pomfrey tutted gently but sternly "Took me an hour just to figure out what to do!"

He tried to answer her, despite himself, but a low wheezing was all that left his chapped lips. Blessedly, the Matron anticipated this, and he was soon sipping cool water from a straw. Smacking his lips, he tried again.

"New formula" he croaked

"Mhm, I thought as much" she replied disapprovingly. "The pain and pepper-up potions should be taking effect any minute, I administered them not 2 minutes before you roused."

With that, he felt his mind clear almost instantly, the pain dulled to a soft throbbing in his temples. The previous nights events came crashing back, and he shot out of bed stumbling slightly but remained standing.

"Severus, you really should-"

"I have to go." He interrupted, buttoning his waistcoat "My robes?"

"Severus, really," she pressed on "I must insists that you stay for at least a few hours to-"

"I'll be in the headmasters office." he grumbled, ignoring the witch and swooping out of the room, robes billowing behind him.

He strode with purpose and determination down the abandoned corridors, his jaw set tightly. 'Holly...'

Albus had some explaining to do.