The next time it rained so heavily was two months later. Lily had set up a play pen in the small living room for Harry to play in while she cleaned the kitchen. She had the radio on, loud enough to drown out the miserable sound of rain, quiet enough to hear Harry if he cried and quiet enough to hear the tentative knocking at the door.
Lily didn't know who she expected to see at the door. So many people had dropped by over the past two months expressing their gratitude, their admiration, even their idolisation. A group of witches had appeared two Saturdays ago, begging to be able to touch The Boy Who Lived. They'd cried at Lily's feet when she'd opened the door. But now, she was honestly taken by surprise to see this man in particular. She had almost given up on him.
"Hello, Lily."
She stood frozen, taking in Severus Snape's form. He looked worn and tired, absolutely drenched in the ongoing downpour. He gazed up at her with the same adoration that had pained her to look at all her adult life. Without another word, she stepped aside and allowed him to enter.
Water dripped from his robes onto the floor in the narrow hallway. "I'll get you a towel," said Lily, void of emotion as she went to the kitchen and pulled a tea-towel from one of the drawers. He followed in behind her and gratefully took the towel.
"Maybe it's good that those robes got drenched. Maybe it's nature's way of telling you to buy new clothes," Lily jokes darkly. He smiled weakly, looking around the tiny kitchen.
"This is cosy," he deadpanned. Lily raised an eyebrow before turning back to her washing up.
"It's not mine. It belongs to Sirius. He's letting us stay here while we find somewhere else to live. Godric's Hollow's... too well-known now."
"Black is making you do his washing up for him?"
"No, I offered! It's the least I could do."
"Well, when he starts demanding that you make him and his primate friends sandwiches, you'll know to-"
"Why didn't you come?"
Her question silenced them both. She turned off the radio, waiting impatiently for his reply.
"I... don't know what you mean."
"Two months ago, I nearly died. My husband nearly died, my son nearly died and it seems that everyone I have ever met has at least sent me a letter if they haven't gone through hellfire to visit me and-"
"I saw you in the newspapers, I heard you on the radio, I thought you were happy!"
"I always thought that if ever got in trouble, you of all people would-"
"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me."
"THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE NOW?!"
From the other room, Lily heard Harry begin to cry. She swerved round Snape and went through to the lounge to pick up her son. Naturally, he followed her. When she straightened up with Harry in her arms, she noticed Snape staring at the baby.
"You didn't even write when he was born."
"I should go."
"You still haven't answered my question, Severus."
He lingered awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes to the floor. Lily wiped the lollipop tears that were rolling down Harry's cheeks. When she looked back up at her old friend, she was reminded of the Severus she once knew: the one sat glumly on his own on the Slytherin table in the Great Hall at Hogwarts... the one she wanted so desperately to comfort, but approaching that table was like walking through a snake pit.
"Lily... are you happy? With Potter, are you happy?" he asked her with a look of desperation in his eyes. Lily allowed herself a small smile.
"Didn't you read the news yesterday?" she asked in response, watching her son stare at Severus. "We're having another baby."
As her friend registered the news, Lily continued to watch Harry. He gazed at Severus like a new toy. Like a new place. Like a stranger. This hurt her.
"Congratulations," he said, looking anything but pleased for her.
"Thanks," she said feebly. She approached him them. For a split second, Severus Snape was hopeful that not all was lost. Then, she passed him. She made her way to the front door and opened it. He walked solemnly down the hall and out into the deafening rain. Before leaving, he turned back to Lily and Harry. The baby was still watching him with intense curiosity.
"He has your eyes."
Lily smiled. "His are nicer,"
"I don't believe you."
She glanced up at him, tears welling in her own eyes that she blinked back. Severus saw the baby's podgy fingers grasp Lily's shirt even tighter than before. He knew that he'd be leaving Lily in safe hands.
"He's a wizard, you know," she told him. "Sometimes, when he's in his room, he can make his mobile turn without touching it. He even made a chair move so that he didn't hit his head on it when he fell."
"He's clever, like his mother."
"What I'm saying is... he'll be going to Hogwarts. He'll be leaving home and he'll be scared."
It sounded like a sick joke when she said it out loud: look out for the son of your worst enemy and the girl who rejected you. But in her head, it was all she could do. She remembered her first few days at Hogwarts spent avoiding sniggers and glares. At least Harry wouldn't have to listen to people calling him that foul word, but he'd still have to endure the arduous amounts of interest in his private life that was sure to come with being The Boy Who Lived.
She watched her old, dear friend walk back down the path and disappear into the misty rain. Her boys would be back soon and she didn't want them to see her crying. She changed her plans for the evening at that moment. She ignored the washing up. She packed the play pen away and took out Harry's toy broomstick. She placed him on it and basked in his squeals of delight as he glided around the room. Lily's pain was forgotten as she allowed herself a little fantasy: Harry, aged eleven, excitedly showing off his new broomstick, surrounded by adoring relatives as he shows his younger sibling how to ride it.
