Chapter 1: Snape's Worst Memory

It was unusually warm for the end of October. Severus Snape could feel the back of his cloak sticking to his spine with sweat. The air moved around him, thick and pleasant, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost transport himself back to days long ago, days he would relive forever, if he could.

There was the sound of gravel scuffing over pavement behind him, and he was brought out of his revelry by his companion, who was scraping the sole of his shoe on the edge of the curb.

"Damn gum on my shoe," the man said, dragging his foot along the curb, over and over. The sound was grating.

"Are you a wizard or not," hissed Severus, throwing the words over his shoulder, trying to look as though he didn't know the man behind him. They were loitering on the street, outside a noisy pub. Severus leaned hard against the stone facade of a building, looking as though he was waiting for someone. His companion, he could hear, rustled through his cloak, and muttered a quick spell. The tiny sound of the gum unsticking itself from the man's shoe echoed in the alley next to them.

"We've been here for two hours," said the man, walking up behind Severus. Severus didn't answer. He just looked ahead, eyes content on staring at the door of the pub.

"What are we even here for?" he asked.

"We are here, Gibbon," said Severus, still facing away from the man, "Because we were sent here. To gather information. If you are not content with your assigned task, then perhaps you should speak with the Dark Lord."

Gibbon made a frustrated sound. Severus could hear his shoes scuffing down the alley, away from him. He wouldn't leave, Severus knew, because he wasn't a stupid man. Just impatient and hungry for flashier tasks and the rewards that came with them.

But Severus was a patient man. It was why he was given tasks like listening at pub doors. The charm he performed when they arrived amplified the sound within the building, and he scanned with his ears the different conversations held within.

Much of it was drunken babble. It was a friday night at Godric Hollow's only wizarding bar, and many of the pub's patrons were unwinding after a long week of toiling away at their jobs. Most of the conversations, when Severus had arrived, centered on troubles at work and relief that it was finally the weekend. Shouts of greeting went up every time the door opened and a new face joined the crowd. Talk transitioned to weekend plans and quidditch. Now, with many of the patrons several pints in, things were getting louder, and tongues were getting looser. This was when things that ought not to be revealed came into the light, because what harm could come of it, most would think, when you were surrounded by your best mates in a loud bar? Severus leaned into the wall a little further.

"...I thought, "Why not? It was only one vial of eel eyes. He bet me I couldn't swallow the whole thing without gaggin'. Won ten galleons off 'em. He punched me in the nose after, the sore loser."

"...I took my eyes off her for one second and this bloak in a dragon hide jacket comes sauntering over..."

"...Oi, Collins! Where'd you put in case of fire whiskey for the Potter wedding?"

Severus unstuck himself from the wall and stood up straight. He felt as though a cup of hot, sour liquid had been poured into his stomach. Had he heard right? He leaned back into the wall, put his ear to the stone, as if he were listening through a keyhole.

"It's by the back door, on top of the butter beer."

"Where? I don' see it."

"On top of the butter beer. By the back door. Unless someone moved it. Ask Brittle if he moved it!"

"Oi, Brittle! Did you move the Fire Whiskey for the Potter wedding?"

Mention of the Potter wedding sent a rumble through the pub.

"That Potter is a lucky man, marrying Lily Evans."

Severus pulled away from the wall as if he'd been shocked. When he first heard mention of the Potter wedding, he'd suspected who... he'd known what was the likely news, but it still sent a stinging, sickly feeling down his body.

Forgetting his duty, he spun on the spot and disappeared down the alley.

"It's beautiful, Lily."

Lily Evans spun in front of the mirror again. She was making herself dizzy, but couldn't stop twirling again and again. She loved the way the white lace fanned away from her hips as she spun.

"I can't believe the wedding is tomorrow," she said, dropping into a chair. She was out of breath. "Alice, it seems like a dream."

"Oh, Lily," said Alice, jumping up from the bed, where she sat watching her best friend spin around the room like a lace-covered top. "You'll wrinkle your dress. Stand up, stand up!"

Alice walked over to Lily and pulled her out of the chair. The girls were laughing, both red-faced and smiling. Lily turned and let Alice unhook the long row of buttons that traced the curve of her spin. Lily lifted her arms and Alice pulled the dress over her head. She walked over to the armoire and re-hung the dress on its hanger. Alice pulled out her wand and cast a charm over the dress that smoothed out the wrinkles Lily had created.

"Is this how you felt, when you married Frank?" asked Lily as she pulled off the crinoline she wore underneath the dress. She opted for a loose-fitting cotton nightgown. She was still warm from dancing around the room, and wanted to save the pretty, new silk nightgowns in her suitcase for the honeymoon.

"Well," said Alice, sitting beside Lily on the bed, "to be honest, Frank's mother wouldn't even let me touch my dress before the wedding. She was convinced I'd set fire to it some how. You drop a couple tea cups at Sunday lunch, and suddenly you can't be trusted with nice things." Alice smiled warmly and pulled the silver tiara out of Lily's red hair. She was trying to pull a brush through the red tangles and had forgotten it was on her head.

Lily gave Alice a wry look. "No, I mean, this flying feeling in your stomach. Like your feet aren't even on the floor. Like they'll never touch the floor again!" She flopped back on the bed, her arms above her head. Alice flopped back next to her. They laughed, not sure at what, until their stomachs ached. The laughter gave way to deep breathes and Lily could feel her cheeks flush. She wasn't sure if it was the warm air drifting from outside or the bottle of wine she and and Alice had shared earlier that night.

They lay like that, looking up at the ceiling for a while, without speaking. As her head cleared, Lily could feel something small and cold creeping into her stomach and head. Something that had been suppressed by the wine and the laughter and the dancing around the room.

"Do you ever worry," she asked, turning her face to Alice, "that these will be the happiest moments of our lives, and that everything after..." She trailed off at the wrinkle that appeared over Alice's brow. Alice turned to the side to face Lily.

"You can't think like that," she said, reaching over to clasp her hand around Lily's forearm. "We're all afraid of what might happen tomorrow, but it's important to hold on to these moments and hope...no, not hope. To know that more are on their way." She paused. "Frank and I decided to start our family," she said finally. "We haven't told anyone yet, not even Augusta."

Lily pulled her best friend into a hug. "That's wonderful, Alice."

"Just think," said Alice, "Our children will go to Hogwarts together, just like we did."

Both women let the embrace linger. Lily could feel her nerves calming.

They broke apart, though, as the sound of a slamming door echoed up the hallway. They both stood, Alice pulling her wand out of her pocket. Lily yanked open the drawer of the side table next to the bed and pulled out hers. They aimed them toward the door. Alice gave Lily an uneasy look. Lily flicked her head toward the door. Alice stepped lightly to the other end of the room, Lily following behind. She clasped the door knob and, nodding her head in sync with Lily's three times, pulled the door open as Lily threw herself onto the landing.

"Stupify!"

There was a crack, a cry, and the sound of broken glass falling to the floor. Alice flicked her wand and all the lights in the house blazed up around them.

"James!"

James Potter stood at the base of the stairs, eyes wide, shaking the remnants of a broken picture frame out of his messy hair.

"Merlin's pants, what are you doing here?" shouted Lily as she bounded down the stairs. Her heart was threatening to explode out of her chest. "You're supposed to be at your parent's house!"

"I, I, I..." stammered James, but Alice cut him off.

"Lily," she said, with a hard, warning tone. Lily stopped short of her husband-to-be and turned to look up at Alice. She gave her a knowing look. Lily, turning back, retreated a few steps, and raised her wand slightly, enough to see James' eyes flit to it briefly and back up to her face.

"What did you give me for my seventeenth birthday?"

Lily watched James' eyes search her face. He looked taken aback. A tiny crease appeared in the middle of his brow as he searched for his words.

"A...a necklace. A silver necklace with a lily pendant. From Juniper Jewelery in Diagon Alley," he said finally. Lily lowered her wand.

"It's okay, Alice," she said, turning to look up the stairs. "It's him, though I still don't know why," she said, turning back to face James, "he is here and not galavanting around London with Sirius like he planned."

"I wanted to see you," he said. "I missed you. And besides, Sirius can galavant around London on his own just fine without me. Better, probably, without me." He wobbled a bit on the spot and grabbed a hold of the railing to steady himself.

"Had a little to drink already, I see," said Alice as she walked down the stairs. She gave Lily a hug. "I'll leave you two alone for the night." She stopped in front of James. "But I will be back bright. And. Early." She punctuated each word with a jab to his shoulder. "Good night." Lily and James watched her as she walked across the living room and out of the front door. Lily gave her wand a flick and the door locked.

"Now," she said, walking down the stairs, stopping one level short so that she was eye to eye with James. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Why are you really here? Isn't it bad luck to see your bride before the wedding?"

His eyes raked over her hungrily and when they finally stopped to meet hers, burned so intensely, Lily almost had to look away.

"I couldn't bear," he said, his hands reaching up to wrap around her waist, "to be parted from you."

Lily raised an eyebrow.

"Parted from me?" Her eyes scanned his face. His eyes, before so eagerly taking her in, could no longer meet hers, it seemed. "Blimey, James, how much have you had to drink? Did Sirius pour a whole bottle of whiskey down your throat? And your breath. It could take out a hippogriff."

His cheeks flushed. She hooked a finger under his chin and raised his face so his eyes would meet hers. She smiled and shook her head.

"What am I going to do with you?" She bent down and brushed his lips with hers. James tried to press his face closer, but she had already pulled away and turned to walk up the stairs. He stood dumbly on the step and watched her walk away from him. She paused at the top of the stairs and looked at him over her shoulder. Her red hair swung around her face.

"Are you coming or not?"

It was the hazy, blue-lighted time of morning, between the dark and dawn, when Lily opened her eyes. She felt wide awake, as if she hadn't slept at all. She looked over at James' sleeping form beside her. He was on his side, his back to her. She smiled as her thoughts flitted to the previous night. They came in flashes, as if they were a barely remembered dream. But a good dream.

Lily turned to her side, snaked her arm around James' waist and nestled her face into the back of his head. His hair tickled her nose. She breathed in his scent.

She pulled her face away. The scent was a strange one. Not wholly unfamiliar, but not the scent she usually associated with James. He was all cotton and musk. Now, it was something more like sweat mixed with herbs.

She pulled away further and noticed long, black hair on the pillow beside her. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. The scene was still the same. Long, stringy black hair on the pillow next to her. She unwrapped her arm from around James' waist and nudged him gently on the shoulder.

"James."

He stirred but didn't wake. She nudged him again.

"James?"

Lily felt a buzzing sensation vibrate down her body. Her breath quickened. Something was wrong. She slid to the side of the bed and grabbed her wand off the side table. She jabbed the end of it into the figure's back. She could see the person, who was obviously not James, stir and then freeze.

"Don't move," said Lily, her voice coming as a harsh whisper. She jabbed her wand harder into his back. "Stand and put your hands up."

The man rose slowly. She could see that his frame was slight. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt and jeans. His hair was lank and greasy. There was something familiar about him, she thought. The hair and build. The way he moved...

In the split second she paused to puzzle over who was in her bedroom, the figure spun and faced her, wand pointed in her direction. Realization dawned on her slowly, like an egg breaking over her head.

"Severus?"

His eyes switched from panic to regret in one, sharp movement.

"Oblivate."

And everything went dark.