A/N: This was written for Taragh McCarthy`s "If Things Were Different" Competition.
My character is Severus Snape, my different thing is going to be obvious once you begin reading, and my romantic pairing is Sev and Lily.
Now, enjoy!
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the most idiotic of us all?
He faces a portrait hanging on the wall, looks at his reflection. The glass makes him appear to be even more pale than normal. His expression is grim, his eyes dark, like always these days. Like always, since that day. Since that Halloween. Behind him stands Dumbledore, a question barely suppressed on his lips; it will not be long – likely only seconds - before it comes bursting forth.
"Severus. Please, sit." The old man does, in that high-backed chair behind the desk, and he stares holes into his faithful employee`s back until his request is complied with. "For thirteen years you have told me in no uncertain terms that you disagree with my decision to place Harry with the Dursleys. Why?"
He has never been completely truthful when asked this, but tonight is no ordinary night. Tonight is the anniversary of her death, one of the most miserable of his life, and he feels an aggravating urge to purge his soul of this dark secret. "See it for yourself," he says, his tone bitter.
[8]-[8]-[8]
He walks to her house, uninvited but unimpeded, puts his hand on the front door and tests it. It swings open and he barely pauses before he continues walking, thinking even as he does so that she is foolish. She should know better than to be lax about security. Didn`t she learn anything from him?
His progress through the house is neither slow nor fast, as he already knows where everything is. He has been here so many times growing up that, even though it has been about four years since he was last here, he doesn`t need lights. He knows that he is passing the kitchen, that the downstairs bathroom is on his next right, and that the stairs are at the end of this narrow way. He mounts them, moves to the top of them, pauses.
Within seconds his feet are moving again, and he takes exactly nineteen steps to the very end of the hall, where her bedroom is. She has left the door open. And why should she close it? Her sister is gone, married to the vile Vernon Dursley, and her parents are dead. She is alone in this house. Alone and vulnerable.
She wakes when he walks in, and he doesn`t bother looking away even though he knows it would be the proper thing to do. He has not forgotten that she prefers to sleep with a minimum amount of clothing, and that when she is hot, it all comes off. A blush colors her cheeks as she scrambles for the sheets that have fallen off the bed, and then she gives up and makes a half-hearted attempt to cover herself using her own body.
"What are you doing here?"
He doesn`t say anything for nearly a full minute, then walks toward her, trails a lazy finger over a bare shoulder. "I came to say goodbye." They don`t exchange any more words, but ten minutes later finds him above her, his robes a forgotten pile on the floor.
[-]-[-]-[-]
It doesn't occur to him until after the fact that they had failed to be safe, and it is so long afterward that he can`t remind her. To do that would be to make it obvious to the slimeball she had married that something had gone on between the two of them, and he has sworn that he would have no contact with James Potter if he could help it.
He keeps his promise too, even though it means that he cannot see her, cannot talk to her, cannot write to her. He is surprised, then, when he gets a letter several months later saying that she has given birth to a healthy baby boy. 'His hair is dark like his father`s (limbs long and skinny, too) and he has my eyes. My eyes, Severus! I know how you do love them. We`ll have to arrange for you to see him, soon, no matter what James says. He doesn`t even have to know, we can manage to work something out.' The letter fills his chest with hope and he sticks the parchment in his desk, a treasure to keep.
And Lily makes good on her promise, albeit a year later, inviting him over one night when James is at a meeting of the Order. She sends him notice that morning that their opportunity is here, and he is anxious the remainder of the day.
Evening comes and he apparates to Godric`s Hollow, walks through the cold air. It is October thirtieth, only fall, but it feels more like winter. The wind whips around him, sends strands of his hair flying, and he pulls his cloak tighter around him as he waits at the door of her house. He knocks and she answers it quickly, and he looks up only to be momentarily frozen by her beauty.
She wears a pair of dark jeans and a cream colored sweater, making her skin look darker than it is at this time of year. Her hair is in a bun atop her head, though a few stray strands fall and form little tendrils. He feels too traditional, standing here with her, in his usual black robes, and is glad when she steps back to let him in.
"You came," she says softly, and she takes his hands in hers.
"Of course," he says back, looking down into her face. Her eyes shine, their green brighter. She is only inches from him, and he can`t hold himself back even though he knows it is wrong. He bends his head to touch his lips to hers, and when she doesn`t protest, he pulls her against him. One arm goes around her, hand splayed on her back, while the other cups her neck.
She pulls away when it gets too heated, and he lets his hold go with reluctance. "Dinner will only be a little longer, if you`d like to meet Harry while we wait."
With a nod he agrees, although he doesn`t care so much about meeting Potter`s child. The real reason he came tonight is to see Lily, not the boy. But he follows her, because he is pretending to be interested.
They go upstairs, into a small bedroom, and he sees they child lying in a crib. His hair is jet black, and his open eyes show their brilliant shade, the same as Lily`s. Severus moves closer, drawn for some reason, and stands at the side of the container. From here he can see what Lily meant about the boy`s limbs being long and skinny. He wonders where that came from, for the boy does not look much like one would assume the son of James Potter would look like.
Lily joins him, reaches in and picks young Harry up, then hands him to the man. Severus takes him awkwardly, watches warily as Harry`s face erupts in a big smile. When he hands the boy back to Lily, his thoughts are in full flight, imagining what he thinks is impossibly possible.
And over dinner, Lily confirms his thoughts. She sits across from him at the table, makes small talk and then stops doing everything. For a few seconds she looks down at her lap, and in the pause, he puts down his fork to look at her.
"There`s something on your mind… What?"
She wrings her hands lightly, looks back up at him. "He`s yours."
He blinks. The boy is…his? "If this is true, how do you know but your husband does not?"
She looks down again and he pushes back his chair, walks around to her side of the table, puts one knee on the floor and keeps the other up for balance. Gently, he puts his right hand beneath her chin and rests his left on her waist. With tender but firm pressure he lifts her head so she meets his gaze, and he repeats his question.
"I took precautions with him, every time," she whispers.
He is stunned.
"I wanted to see if I was pregnant before I stopped." Her voice grows stronger as she continues, and she looks at him to gauge his reaction.
Like normal these days, he keeps his face blank, but he lets his eyes show his surprise and then he leans forward to kiss her again, even softer than has in the past.
"You aren`t mad?" she asks against his mouth.
"Should I be?" he says back and in answer she rolls his bottom lip between her teeth.
After a few minutes they move away from the table, manage to make it up the stairs and into a room that he presumes to be the guest room. The bed is large enough for them to be comfortable, and he quickly has her on it. She breathes heavily as his touch arouses her, makes a groan of frustration when her fingers shake too much to free the buttons all over his robes. Finally she gets them, watches them slide from his body quickly, and devours the sight of him before he moves.
As he sheathes himself within her, he cannot help but ask himself why he let her get away before and why he keeps doing this when it hurts so much to say goodbye.
[8]-[8]-[8]
He can barely stand to look at Dumbledore as he forces the memories back, unwilling to go over the next one, because it has been replayed so many times. His jaw is tight as he stares at the feet of the desk, his hands gripping the sides of his chair so hard that the knuckles are turning white. When he speaks, after a couple minutes, his voice is carefully measured. "Now, surely, you understand."
He looks up now, sees those blue eyes filled with sadness, and sees Dumbledore nod.
"The Dursley`s are not Harry`s only living relatives…" The headmaster pauses. "Why did you not disclose this when the decision was made, Severus?"
"Because it's my fault she died!" He gets to his feet, hands balled into fists at his sides. "I reported the prophecy to the Dark Lord! If I had not done so, she wouldn`t have been killed!" He takes a breath. "And who would believe the truth at that time anyway? You still believed me to be loyal to the other side."
The other man nods, standing and moving to pet Fawkes. "Is that why you agreed to help me protect Harry, then? Because he is your son?" When there is no response, Dumbledore turns to face Severus, knows he has his answer. "I suppose that when you said, 'No one must know,' you were also talking about this fact, then."
Severus nods, looks out the window, and lets the tears he has held back all evening flow freely.