The young man could make out the sound of heels thudding and creaking against the floorboards. Clearly, a woman had just entered the Hog's Head. Perfect. Just what he was waiting for. Severus Snape - for that was his name - noted the sound of jangling beads which told him that the aforementioned woman was wearing quite the assortment of bracelets and other jewellery. He waited silently as the woman strode across the bar into his parameter of vision, and he recognised the form as she clunked and stumbled across the room and ascended the staircase. She quickly disappeared from view.

Severus quickly, and silently, got up from his seat. He then proceeded to follow the silly woman, still under the Disillusionment charm. However, his feet creaked on the wooden floorboards, and he looked about helter-skelter for a sign of the barkeep. He relaxed marginally as he discerned that the barman was currently concentrating with all of his might on a blackened something that was stuck to the bar table. Disgusting. As the aforementioned young man arrived at the stairwell, he glanced upwards and saw the door at the top of the stars close with a snap. He crept up the stairs, moving as quietly as possible, and finally settled in a small heap at the foot of the door. He found a scrap of parchment within the depths of his robes, crumpled it into a ball and threw it lightly at the door. It hit the wooden surface and fell with a sound of wrinkling paper: the door was not charmed. They had gotten a private room, but hadn't warded the door. Dunderheads.

At last, Severus pressed his ear to the door and listened with all of his might.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore," a dazed feminine voice said. Severus had to guess the woman was slightly drunk.

"Good evening to yourself as well, Sybill," Severus heard his former headmaster's familiar voice sound. "Might I offer you a drink?"

Severus rolled his eyes – Dumbledore was probably the only man on earth who still possessed ridiculously old-fashioned manners. He had probably risen and bowed upon her entrance, too.

"Why, thank you, Professor Dumbledore," Trelawney responded graciously, and Severus heard the sound of a chair sliding across the floor followed by the sound of a body sitting down. Glasses clinked from within the room, and Severus heard the distinguishable sound of liquids being pouring.

"To your health, my dear," Dumbledore said. There was a temporary silence as the two drained their glasses. He waited impatiently for the cordial introductory scene to pass.

"Now then," Dumbledore said, breaking the momentary silence. "I feel we should get on with the application process, seeing as we both already know why we are here. Shall we begin?"

Sybill must have nodded because Dumbledore only continued to speak. "Do tell me a bit about yourself."

Severus' thoughts were filled with the background noise of the interview, as he half-heartedly listened to Dumbledore ask Trelawney about her past, what she did after leaving Hogwarts, why she wanted to teach, and how long she had been a Seer.

"I have been a Seer from birth," Trelawney said indignantly. "It is a gift, Dumbledore; not something that just any witch or wizard can learn." Although said by way of explanation, there was a clear sense of arrogant, stubborn, superiority in her tone.

"I see. You are related to Cassandra Trelawney, yes?"

"Why certainly, Professor Dumbledore," she said. "She was my great-great Grandmother."

"And you are the first in your family since Cassandra to be possessed of the Second Sight?"

"Indeed, you will often find these things will skip a few generations and then reappear."

"Well, yes," said Dumbledore. "Have you put thought into how you would actually teach such a difficult skill?"

"As I said, Dumbledore, I can only guide the students," came Trelawney's voice. "If they do not possess the sight, I am afraid there is little I can do."

"I understand. I'm not too sure we are in need of your, ah, 'gift', at this point in time my dear Sybil," Dumbledore said. "I do, however, thank you for your time." Severus then heard the wizened wizard rising to his feet: the interview was over. Severus' heart sank slightly – he had failed the Dark Lord. when he reported to the Dark Lord with no information...

One did not displease the Dark Lord. If you did, it was once and only once. Punishments were administered swiftly and justly.

Failure, no matter how small, was not tolerated.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere a strong, echoing voice boomed out from the room, filling the entire bar with volume. Severus retreated in a crawl, away from the source of the noise.

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES. BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM..."

Severus paled as he realised he was hearing a prophecy. His body became frantic, as he scrambled back to his spot at the door, pressing his ear firmly against it even though the action was quite unnecessary. His heart raced with excitement. There were plenty of families in the opposing Order of the Phoenix who had thrice faced Lord Voldemort and escaped – the Longbottoms, the McKinnons, the Potters...

"BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES..." the prophecy continued.

Severus felt his mouth drop open in horror. He couldn't recall any of them being born in the summer, and he knew full well that Lily was born in the winter, but, what about children? Severus' brain desperately grasped at bits and piece of information that he had heard about the Order members over the years. Not much. Nobody particularly cared for his... well, he didn't talk to many people. Somewhere in all that chaos, Severus had a rather unpleasant thought. Lily. She couldn't be that stupid, could she? Having a child in the middle of a war while being part of the Order. She was in no position...

His throat tightened.

It had been a long time since they'd talked. A long time since he'd ruined everything with her.

Severus fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. Disentangling himself from his robes he got quickly to his feet, wand up, but Black said, "Petrificus Totalus!" and Severus keeled over again, rigid as a board.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. Potter and Sirius Black eyed it warily.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you,' said James Potter earnestly.

"Take the curse off him, then!" she demanded.

Potter sighed deeply, then turned to Severus and muttered the counter-curse.

There you go,' he said, as Severus struggled to his feet. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus—"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" Severus replied, immediately regretting the words that had come out of his mouth.

Lily blinked.

"Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

He had tried to apologise after that but it was for nought. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."

He strained to hear the rest of the prophecy.

But Severus could not hear the rest of the prophecy. He felt his Disillusionment charm being lifted as the feeling of water trickling over him occurred yet again, and suddenly there was a grubby, furious hand at his collar, dragging him down the stairs. He bit back the pain as his backside consistently collided with the hard staircase as he slid further and further away from his mission.

The world seemed to be sliding away from him as he continued to be dragged away from the prophecy. His mind was a whirl – it could not be, he simply refused to believe that the prophecy applied to the Potters because if the Potters were the answer, it surely meant a death sentence for his former childhood friend. Nothing else mattered in the world anymore – not the fact that he was about to be thrown out in the thunderous rain, nor the fact that the Dark Lord might actually punish him for failing to retrieve the entirety of the prophecy. All that existed was the fact that Lily Evans was in danger.

He managed to pull himself together somewhat, and started going off about his having come the wrong way up the stairs, but it was evident that the barman, nor Dumbledore, believed him.

At last, Severus felt himself being thrown backwards - out into the rain. He landed with a sickening splash into a large puddle of sludge-water, and he groaned as he rose slowly to his feet.

"And bloody well stay out!" the barman yelled from the foot of the door in a rather gruff voice. Severus watched angrily as the barman wiped his hands on his apron and re-entered the small inn. He stood for a moment with the water pouring down around him, allowing his heavy breathing to subside, and his black, slick hair to hang straight and heavy over his face as he became wetter and wetter.

He began to turn on the spot, prepared to apparate, but a nagging sensation held him back. He had a choice – for the first time in his life, he had a real choice to make. He could report to the Dark Lord and put Lily's life at risk. Or, he could defy his master, thereby forcing himself to go into hiding for the rest of his life at the expense of Lily's safety.

The choices were daunting; one benefit equally matching the other. Severus put his face in his hands and let out a small roar of frustration, kicking the puddle he continued to stand in. Surely, Lily mattered above all else and so surely, he must not tell the Dark Lord what he had heard. But what if he were caught? He'd be killed and forced to convey the prophecy. Perhaps if he faced the Dark Lord with the information he'd be able to bargain for Lily's life? It seemed reasonable enough. But... could he trust the Dark Lord to hold to the promise if given? Would He see it as disloyalty?

And Lily...

But, the Dark Lord might spare her...

Severus took a deep breath, realising for the first time that he was trembling.

You know what you have to do. Do it.

With that, he spun on the spot and began to apparate.

"You bloody coward," he felt his insides scream as he finally took his leave. "Coward! Coward! Coward!"

Even the rain pouring down all around him couldn't conceal the tears that were now streaming down his face.