The first thing James noticed was that he had grown quite tall. The second was that his head was very heavy.
Remus approached him cautiously, eyes wide. "Merlin's — bleeding… James, mate. Bloody hell."
James pawed at the ground with one of his hooves — hooves! He had hooves! — and dipped his head, allowing Remus to scratch the fur there. Remus' hand drifted towards his ear, knocking against something hard — horns, maybe? James tilted his head, giving Remus what he hoped was a quizzical look.
Remus' face broke into a grin, and he wrapped his arms around James' long neck. "You're a stag, mate! A bloody stag! Beautiful creature, too." Remus' breath hitched, and James' nostrils flared as he caught the tang of salt drifting through the air.
"Thank you," said Remus, burying his face in James' fur. "Thank you. Thank you."
After a long moment, Remus drew back, wiping his eyes. Reaching up, he grabbed James' antlers to bring the stag's face level with his own.
"I've had three long years to deliberate exactly what sort of humiliating nicknames I would bestow upon you lot when I saw your animal forms," he said, beaming.
James let out a low whinny in protest, but Remus' smile grew wider. "Oh yes. I've come up with names for every animal under the sun. Moony is a bit of an unkind nickname, you know. I figure it's only right to return the favour. What say we call you… Prongs?" A wicked grin spread across Remus' face. "You know. Because you're horny."
James snorted loudly and bucked his head, forcing Remus backwards.
"Don't tell me that's not hilarious!" protested Remus. "You're sixteen years old and you've got antlers. You are the definition of horny. It's perfect."
There was a squeaking sound, and a plump rat with sandy fur scurried up Remus' robes and onto his shoulder.
"Pete!" said Remus, grabbing the rat and cradling it in his hands. "Look at you! I think I might prefer you like this, honestly…"
The rat let out an offended chitter and tried to wriggle free of Remus' grasp.
"You're a little less conspicuous than Prongs here, at least," said Remus, placing Peter in the pocket of his robes. "What do you say, Wormtail? Comfortable?"
The shape in Remus' pocket shifted and grew. Remus stumbled backwards as the rat tumbled onto the ground; in the blink of an eye, Peter was sprawled in front of him.
"Wormtail?" asked Peter incredulously, dusting off his knees. "What sort of name is Wormtail?"
"Oh, there's loads more where that came from," said Remus jauntily, mussing Peter's hair. "I wouldn't push my luck if I were you."
"I spent years becoming an Animagus to keep your lonely wolf arse company and this is the thanks I get," scoffed Peter, but he didn't seem too put out. "Wormtail. Honestly."
James decided that he'd had quite enough of all this talking. He wanted to move, to stretch his new, powerful muscles. He snorted, startling both Remus and Peter, and then broke into a trot, leaving the grotto in favour of the sandy bank that bent around the Black Lake. He quickened his pace to a canter, and then a full-on gallop, his sides heaving with effort. He could feel the rain soaking the fur on his back as he raced around the lake, his thoughts becoming less human and more wild.
After taking a second, and then a third, lap of the lake, he returned to the grotto, slowing to a canter. As he took deep gulps of air into his lungs, he pictured himself walking on two legs. Before he knew it, he felt himself shrink. His head became lighter — much lighter — and he very nearly tripped over his own feet.
"Have a nice jog?" asked Remus, steadying him. "Never pictured you as much of a runner, myself…"
"You're loving this, aren't you?" said James, still panting.
Remus gave him a wide, lazy smile. "Why, yes. Yes, I am."
"Erm, not to be a spoilsport," said Peter, checking his watch, "but we still have Charms before dinner."
"Bugger Charms," said James grandly. "We can turn into animals on command. Let's go get pissed in the dormitory."
"Here, here," said Peter enthusiastically, and Remus nodded in agreement.
As James led the way through the tunnel to the second floor, he couldn't help but cast a backwards glance at the grotto. He wondered what sort of nicknames Remus had thought up for Sirius. He was probably better off not knowing, he decided, shaking himself a bit and continuing through the tunnel.
"When's the next full moon?" asked Peter as they climbed the stairs to the boy's dormitory.
"Next Thursday," said Remus automatically.
"Brilliant," said James, pushing the door open. "Less than a week to wait, then —"
He froze, and Peter collided with his back. A shaggy black dog the size of a bear was lying on Remus' bed.
"A Grim," said Peter immediately. "Merlin save us, a Grim —"
James' mind began to race as he remembered childhood stories of hounds whose very presence foretold disaster. He'd had a second cousin who'd slipped off her broomstick after seeing a Grim, hadn't he? At the funeral, his relatives had whispered amongst themselves about a big black dog when they thought he wasn't listening.
Remus stepped around James, a look of complete shock on his face. The dog raised its huge head, staring at Remus with mournful gray eyes. It thumped its tail hopefully.
"Sirius?"
The dog let out a little whine and thumped its tail harder.
Remus and the dog looked at each other for a moment before Remus darted forward. James reached for his wand, thinking Remus was going to attack the dog; instead, Remus landed roughly on top of it, embracing it and ruffling its fur. The dog barked loudly and began to lick Remus' face.
"You're a Padfoot," said Remus. "A Padfoot!"
"A what?" asked Peter, sitting on his own bed and eyeing the dog warily.
"It's what my dad calls Hellhounds," explained Remus as the dog rolled onto its back. "It's another name for a Grim. You great, hairy omen of death… Gave us quite a fright, didn't you?" And he scratched the dog's stomach vigorously"All's forgiven, then, I suppose?" asked James once he had recovered the power of speech.
Remus paused and glanced at the dog, which looked suddenly guilty. It shifted uncomfortably, and then Sirius was sitting next to Remus, their shoulders touching.
"Erm, about that," said Sirius, running a hand through his hair. "I think, maybe — we ought to talk. I mean…" he glanced at James and Peter, looking extremely self-conscious. "Moony, can we go somewhere… private? I want to, erm, apologize, and I think it would be better if we… that is…"
"Private sounds good," said Remus graciously, ignoring Sirius' obvious discomfort. "There's a room on the seventh floor that'll be perfect, I'll show you…"
James and Peter looked at each other as soon as Remus and Sirius had left the dormitory.
"Well, that could have been worse," said Peter.
James nodded. "I've never heard Sirius apologize for anything before. Hopefully once they're alone he'll sound less like a stammering idiot…"
"I doubt it," said Peter, pulling a couple of bottles full of dark liquid out from under his mattress. "Firewhiskey?"
James and Peter had finished the first bottle of Firewhiskey and were well through the second by the time the door of the dormitory swung back open. Remus walked in, followed by the enormous black dog.
"So?" asked Peter, draining his glass. "Didja kiss and make up, then?"
"Something along those lines," said Remus, smiling. "It's hard to stay angry at Padfoot here. He's a very good boy, aren't you, Pads?"
The dog let out a joyful woof.
Later that evening, Sirius and James were sprawled on James' bed, trying to make their ceiling look like the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Sirius eventually stowed his wand and rolled over to look at James, his expression earnest. "Thanks for leaving the drawer open, mate."
"Er, that was an accident," said James. He glanced reflexively across the room at Remus, who appeared to be thoroughly absorbed in his Charms homework.
"Right, sure it was," said Sirius, stretching and yawning. There was a rustle at James' side and Sirius, as Padfoot, curled up against his legs.
"You kept up with the incantations, didn't you?" murmured James, scratching between the dog's ears. "Even though we didn't speak to you for the better part of a month."
The dog bobbed its head in response.
"I must admit, I'm impressed," said James in a low voice. "Didn't think you had the discipline. Then again," he added as Padfoot cast him a baleful look, "you did end up transforming into a dog. Man's best friend and all that. If that's not a demonstration of loyalty, I dunno what is."
The dog let out a satisfied-sounding snort and stood up. It hopped off James' bed and joined Remus in his. Remus didn't look up from his homework as Padfoot snuggled next to him, but he did wrap an arm around the dog's neck, petting him almost absentmindedly as he turned the pages of his book.
James caught Peter's eye, and they smiled at each other. Then he laid back in bed, folding his arms behind his head and smiling contentedly at their half-enchanted ceiling. All was as it should be.
A horrible portrait of the Dark Lord had appeared in the Slytherin common room over the weekend, and the House was divided over whether or not it was in good taste. Most seemed to regard the painting as a vaguely amusing prank; Severus, of course, loathed the very sight of it, as he had a hunch about who its creators were. The other Intents found the portrait extremely disrespectful, and Bella in particular nearly had a fit when she realized that not even Avery could un-stick the painting from the wall.
The end result of this was that Bella came down on the Intents even harder, as if they personally had a hand in the creation of the portrait. She had them clean the common room using their own robes for rags nearly every night, much to Severus' exasperation. Unlike the other, pure-blood Intents, he only owned a few pairs of hand-me-down robes, and constant use was making them even more threadbare than they were already.
Bella's intensity expanded to Occlumency training, as well; she insisted that Severus spend every weekday evening practising with her, heedless of the fact that his O.W.L.s were less than a month away. Between the daily activities of the Intents, the weekly rituals, and now these Occlumency lessons, Severus' precious study time was rapidly dwindling down to nothing.
"Ha!" Bella barked one evening when Severus brought up the need to revise for his O.W.L.s. "You think the Dark Lord cares how many 'Outstandings' you get? You think he gives a rat's arse that you pass your precious Potions exam?"
"Forget it, then, and let's just go another round," snarled Severus, raising his wand. "Clearly keeping nameless mind-readers out of my head is more important than achieving passing marks on the exam that the entire Wizarding World considers to be—"
"You think this is about nameless mind-readers?" said Bella, her voice rising. "You have no idea the advantage Occlumency gives you, the gift I have dropped into your ungrateful —"
"Obviously, and I'm sure the examiners —"
"DO NOT INTERRUPT!" she shrieked. There was a crack like a whip and sparks shot from her wand, startling both of them. Severus eyed her warily, biting his tongue.
"As I was saying," continued Bella, breathing deeply, "if you think it is an accident that I chose to teach you this magic, this magic in particular, then you are stupider than I thought."
Severus narrowed his eyes. "Enlighten me, then."
"There's going to be a test," said Bella. The words seemed to tumble out of her unbidden, as if she'd been dying to tell him for some time. "Before your Induction as Secondaries. Lucius is going to administer Veritaserum to all the Intents, and you will take turns asking each other a variety of… unpleasant questions. The exercise is designed to uncover the weaknesses of each Intent."
"And Occlumency is one method of bypassing Veritaserum."
"Not completely," said Bella. "You will still be forced to tell the truth. But if you master Occlumency, you will be able to hide your thoughts even from yourself, enabling you to speak only a version of the truth."
"Why give me such an advantage?" asked Severus. He still had not lowered his wand. "What do you have to gain by undermining Lucius?"
Bella laughed, running a hand through her wild curls. "Lucius was the one who gave the order that you should learn Occlumency! This is another tradition — allowing the most promising Intent to retain some semblance of their dignity when it comes time to be examined by their peers."
"And that's how you learned Occlumency," said Severus, putting the pieces together. "You were the most promising Intent." Bella nodded. She seemed more relaxed than she had moments ago, and he decided to push his luck. "What did you have to hide as an Intent?"
"Cheeky little Sev," said Bella, smiling broadly and raising her wand. "If you want to know so badly, why don't you try taking it from me?"
Severus' lips twitched. "Fine," he said, staring into her large gray eyes. "Legilimens."
At once, his mind filled with memories that were not his own, so vivid that he recoiled. There was so much to look at he didn't know where to start. A tiny girl with curly black hair was being Sorted; the Hat didn't so much as touch her head before shouting "Slytherin!"... A toddler in a green dress was chasing after her older sisters, laughing… Her mother was picking her up...
Severus began to feel slightly sick as the images flashed in his mind at a dizzying pace. Now the toddler was wearing the Sorting Hat, and the curly-haired girl was chasing her sisters. Now her mother was wearing a green dress, now the girl was staring at a raven whose neck was bent at an odd angle… Now the raven was in a green dress, wearing the Sorting Hat —
"Enough," he snapped, taking an involuntary step backwards as he broke the connection between them. He could feel the contents of his lunch rising in his throat, and he had to will himself not to be sick.
Bella looked completely unphased. She tilted her head. "Find anything useful?"
"Not remotely," he growled, and Bella smiled widely.
"Better luck next time, Sev. My turn, then… Legilimens."
It was nearly midnight by the time Bella tired of coaching him, and Severus felt notes of panic growing in his chest as he headed to his dormitory. He was able to conceal his most incriminating feelings about Lily, but he couldn't erase her from his mind entirely. She was everywhere — in all of his Hogwarts years, in his summers in Cokeworth, in every memory of his childhood worth remembering. He couldn't get rid of her. He was certain that his mental barriers would be even weaker after being dosed with Veritaserum.
Severus carefully opened the door to his dormitory, glancing at Mulciber's sleeping form. They might have a shaky truce, but he had no doubt that when the time came, Mulciber wouldn't hesitate to question him about Lily. And how would he respond?
His insides twisted as he imagined himself babbling about Lily, how long he had known her, the things he would do for her, how he didn't care that she was Muggle-born. That being Muggle-born merely added to her brilliance. Would Lucius be content to decline his Induction into the Death Eaters at that point? Or would Severus simply vanish, the way Muggles across the country were doing with increasing frequency, if the Prophet was to be believed?
It won't happen, he told himself firmly, changing into his dingy pyjamas and climbing into bed. But even as he practised his mind-clearing exercises that night, he couldn't shake the feeling that a mere two weeks of Occlumency lessons wouldn't be enough to strengthen his mental defences. He could hear Bella's voice echoing through his head, over and over. If the wrong people find out…
He slept fitfully that night, and when he woke, it was with a pit in his stomach and a dreadful certainty about what he had to do.
The full moon rose the following Thursday, and James could barely sit still, he was so excited. He had such a hard time concentrating during class that Professor Flitwick actually took points when James flubbed a Banishing Charm so spectacularly that he exploded the cushion he was supposed to be practising on.
"Oh, dear," muttered Sirius as Flitwick descended upon them, making James laugh hysterically and earning an additional point taken.
After the lesson, they parted ways with Remus at the hospital wing. "Don't forget to transform before you open the trapdoor," Remus reminded them, fiddling with the sleeves of his robes. "There's no rush if you can't manage the Transfiguration right away; just take your time, and when you're ready —"
"Remus, mate," said James. "Merlin's sake, stop worrying. You're starting to sound like my mum."
"I'm not worrying. I'm going over the plan," said Remus with as much dignity as he could muster.
"Well, stop planning, then," said James, prodding Remus towards the doors of the hospital wing. "Poppy's waiting for you. We'll see you in, say" — he checked his watch — "an hour or so."
Hidden by the Invisibility Cloak in the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, they watched Remus and Madam Pomfrey disappear down the tunnel of the Whomping Willow. By the time Madam Pomfrey reemerged from between the roots of the tree, the Cloak was draped neatly over a branch, and three pairs of animal eyes watched her set off towards the castle.
The dog let out a whine of anticipation, and the rat darted out from the edge of the forest, scrabbling up the trunk of the Whomping Willow and pushing the knot that froze its swaying branches.
The first challenge came next — the dog and the rat slipped easily into the tunnel, but the stag was simply too large to fit.
"Damn having horns," said James finally, straightening up and rubbing his head, which still felt sore from where he had tried to widen the tunnel with his antlers. The dog whined again, sounding worried.
"It's fine, Padfoot," said James, dropping into the tunnel. "I'll just have to transform inside the Shack. Don't think I'll be able to fit through the trapdoor with a massive set of antlers, either."
The dog barked loudly at that, and James laughed. "Well, you'll just have to distract Moony while I enter the Shack, won't you? Don't tell me you're not capable of that!"
The dog and the rat glanced at each other, but they followed him down the tunnel. In the end, James pulled down the trapdoor, and the dog launched itself inside, followed closely by the rat. James waited a few moments before hoisting himself into the Shack after them. From another room came a low, feral growl, followed by the sound of crashing furniture, and the dog yipped.
James closed his eyes, feeling the quick thrum of his pulse as he searched for the other, stronger heartbeat inside his chest. The second heartbeat grew louder, galloping, overtaking his own —
Prongs reared onto his hindquarters as the wolf came careening into the room, snapping its jaws at him. His front hooves landed on the floor with a thud, and the wolf skidded to a halt, sniffing curiously at the stag.
Padfoot bounded into the room, barking, and tackled the wolf, which yelped in surprise. The two wrestled on the floor, play-fighting and nipping each other's fur. Prongs joined in, using his antlers to toss the wolf to one side of the room, which was great fun. The dog promptly began to bark loudly, demanding to be tossed as well.
That first full moon, in many ways, reminded James of all the nights they had spent in the Shrieking Shack as humans, drinking and carrying on. Padfoot and the wolf, in particular, got on exceedingly well, being about equal in size and strength. Peter, as Wormtail, led them all in several rowdy games of Hide-and-Seek, and they tried to play Hunt with Prongs as the prey, but there wasn't quite enough room.
Dawn broke through the boarded-up windows of the Shack as all four creatures were using a battered old blanket to play a raucous game of Tug, which Wormtail was losing quite badly. The wolf collapsed as soon as the first rays of sunlight touched its skin, letting out a low moan and twitching slightly. The other animals dropped the blanket, watching the wolf with something that might have been labelled concern. The dog whined, stepping forward and nudging the wolf with its nose.
There was a horrible snapping sound, like many bones breaking at once, and the wolf shrieked; its back arched as its neck lengthened and fur receded, giving way to skin. With another anguished howl, the wolf's head jerked forward, and suddenly Remus Lupin lay on the floor, eyes closed.
With a clatter of hooves, James returned to his human form, dropping to his knees at Remus' side. "Alright, Moony?" he asked, placing a hand on Remus' back.
Remus stirred, blinking his eyes blearily. "Never… better," he rasped, and then broke off as a coughing fit wracked his body. Slowly, he rolled onto his back, wincing and clutching his side. "Think… you might have got me, Prongs…"
He lifted the corner of his shirt, revealing several spreading bruises and a gash, small but deep, across his ribs. Padfoot whimpered, glaring accusingly at James.
"Don't you give me that look!" said James defensively. "Sorry, Remus, mate. Want me to try my hand at a healing spell?"
"No need," said Remus hoarsely, pulling his shirt back down. "This is nothing compared to... compared to what I usually get up to. Madam Pomfrey'll be able to heal it in about a second. Speaking of…" he glanced at the sun coming in through the boarded-up windows. "You lot should probably take the long way back to Hogwarts. She'll be coming up through the tunnel soon."
After bidding Remus goodbye, the stag, dog and rat slipped out the door of the Shrieking Shack, making their leisurely way up to the castle from Hogsmeade. After eating an early breakfast, they went to Transfiguration, where James plopped into his seat, exhausted, but feeling thoroughly and wonderfully alive.
During free period on Wednesday afternoon, Severus managed to avoid revising with the other Intents by claiming that he still hadn't finished his pledge and needed the time to practise. As soon as he'd stepped out of the library, he made his way to the dungeons, rapping a clenched fist on the door to Slughorn's office.
"Sliverus!" boomed Professor Slughorn. "Come in, old boy! How can I help you?"
"Just wondering where Lily is, sir," said Severus quickly. "She wanted me to bring her some more rue. You know, for her independent study…" He let his voice trail off meaningfully as he reached under his robes, pulling out a bundle of rue.
"I'm sure Lily will appreciate the help," said Slughorn jovially. "Clever witch, that one."
"Indeed," said Severus stiffly. "Sir."
"Witches like her don't come around every lifetime, you know," continued Slughorn, winking an eye at Severus as he hoisted himself to his feet. "Now… I believe Lily has commandeered Workshop Five for her potion-brewing purposes. Do you need me to show you the way?"
"That won't be necessary," said Severus, inclining his head a little and backing out of the room. "Thank you for your help, sir. I'll give her your regards."
He Vanished the rue on the way to Workshop Five, which was located in a corridor just around the corner from Slughorn's office. When he tried the handle of the workroom, he was surprised to find it locked; as he raised his hand to knock, however, the door swung open.
"What do you want?" asked Lily, her arms crossed. "I don't know if I ever told you, but I'm brewing a highly sensitive potion and don't have time for distractions."
"Brought you something," said Severus. "Can I come in?"
Lily narrowed her eyes at him, but her posture softened. Finally, she nodded, and Severus breathed a small sigh of relief as she beckoned him into the room. A small cauldron sat in the centre of the workshop, bubbling away as several brass instruments hovered around it, taking measurements.
"You've figured out the rue, then," said Severus, eyeing the cauldron.
"Clearly," said Lily. "Why are you here, Sev?"
"Right," said Severus, rummaging in his bag and handing her a pair of gloves. "These are for you."
Lily looked at him sceptically. "Those are my mum's old gloves. Y'know, the useless ones? I've got a dragonhide pair now —"
"Try them on," said Severus. "Trust me."
Lily took the gloves with obvious reluctance. Her eyes flicked to Severus' face, and he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging nod. She sighed and pulled the gloves on. Immediately her eyes widened. "These — you…"
"I reinforced the lining with hide from a Welsh Green," said Severus. "And rubbed down the outsides with Ironbelly oil. They should work as well as any pair of Wizarding gloves now."
Lily flexed her fingers, staring at the gloves. "You didn't have to…"
"You'll have to reapply the oil every six months or so, but I imagine that's not asking too much," continued Severus, as if he hadn't heard. "Of course, if you prefer the pair you already have, I won't be —"
Lily threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. "Thank you," she said into his ear. "I've missed you."
"The last few months have been awful, haven't they?" asked Severus wryly, untangling himself from her.
"That's one way of putting it," said Lily, wiping her eyes and smiling at him. "Want to get out of here? I need to run down to the greenhouses to get some thyme…"
"Of course," said Severus. They stepped into the corridor, and Severus watched Lily lock the door to the workshop with a small bronze key, which she slipped into her bag.
"So what have you been up to, anyway?" asked Lily, swinging her arms through the air as they walked through the Entrance Hall.
"Revising, mostly," said Severus. "Did you have career counselling with McGonagall?"
"Yeah," said Lily, breathing deeply as they stepped out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. "Ah… smells like spring. I suppose you met with old Sluggy, didn't you? Was he ever so helpful?"
"You guessed it," said Severus, smirking a little. "He thinks 'Sliverus' should take up a Potions apprenticeship in Diagon Alley after graduating."
"At least he's aware you're decent at Potions," said Lily. "Even if he can't be arsed to remember your name."
Severus snorted. "Some consolation. What did McGonagall have to say to you?"
"Well, she brought up my marks in Potions, obviously, and in Charms," said Lily as they took the well-trodden path that led to the greenhouses. "She suggested I look into a job with the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, but…" she shuddered dramatically. "I think I'd rather pop my clogs."
"The Reversal Squad wouldn't be that bad," said Severus. "Of course, ninety-nine per cent of the job's Splinching cases, but…"
"That's what I told her," said Lily. "It'd be boring. Plus, I just can't see myself as a Ministry girl. That's when she…" The faintest hint of a blush tinged her cheeks. "She actually suggested I look into Healing."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And, I dunno, Sev, I've been thinking about it, and it might actually be a good fit, don't you think?" She was rushing to get the words out. "I mean, you have to be good at Potions to be a Healer, and there's an aspect of thinking on your feet, not to mention there're all sorts of charms I'd have to learn…"
"You'd be a brilliant Healer," Severus told her, and her blush deepened. "Seriously."
"You really think?"
"I do," said Severus. "If it's something you're interested in, I think you should pursue it."
"Healing would come in useful, too," she said. "You know, if we… if the Wizarding World really ends up at war."
"That's ridiculous," said Severus before he could stop himself. "There's not going to be a war."
"No, right, 'course not," said Lily hurriedly. "I only meant — if there was…"
"There won't be," said Severus. "All that's happening now is a bunch of fanatics are engaging in guerrilla tactics to advance their agenda. That's completely different from a war." Lily nodded vaguely, but her brow was furrowed. Severus cast a sideways glance at her. "I would hope you wouldn't be fighting in a real war, anyway. If there's actually open combat, people will die, you know."
"I know," said Lily softly. "But people are dying anyway. Our people." She met his eyes and he had to will himself not to flinch. "Besides, I wouldn't be on the front lines as a Healer, would I? I'd be in a more… supportive role."
"I suppose," said Severus, and they fell silent, listening to the far-off shouts of students enjoying the weather.
Lily spoke first, keeping her eyes on the path in front of them. "If there is a war..." She hesitated. "Which side do you think you'd find yourself on?"
"Whichever side you're on, obviously."
That answer apparently wasn't good enough for Lily. "Come on, Sev," she said, jostling him. "Be serious. I know you have friends who…"
"There's not going to be a war," said Severus firmly. "But if there is, you're mad if you think I'd bet against Lily Evans."
Lily smiled, looking relieved. "So I'll be on the sidelines, as a Healer, and you'll be…?"
"Locked in an apothecary somewhere, making Potions for the cause."
"Sluggy would be proud," said Lily, laughing. "Would you be inventing spells, too, d'you think?"
Severus remembered the Sectumsempra curse he was perfecting and began to feel ill. "Probably."
In the greenhouse, Lily was so excited to finally be at the stage where she needed thyme — or maybe she was simply delighted that she and Severus were getting along, for once — that she flitted from plant to plant, talking loudly and dropping her trimming shears multiple times. As they were leaving, she nearly forgot her bag, causing Severus to dash back into the greenhouse to grab it for her.
After they arrived at the castle, Lily bid him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and practically skipped to her workroom. It was only after she'd vanished from sight that Severus, hating himself with every fibre of his being, reached into his pocket and pulled out a perfect copy of a small, bronze key.
Success.