36

By the time Severus and Dumbledore Apparated back to Godric's Hollow, it was difficult to tell that a battle had ever taken place. The giants were gone, the ruined mess of mud, blood, and sewage smoothed over with a clean layer of cobblestone that glittered in the frosty afternoon. Even as Severus turned to survey the wreckage of smashed buildings, beams were fitting themselves into place, bricks piling themselves neatly over layers of mortar, glass tucking itself into window frames. Magical repair wizards darted in and out of the surrounding structures in a constant flurry of activity, while Aurors paced between the rows of covered bodies, some of them taking notes in pads of paper or on rolls of parchment.

Only the church remained untouched, the curse damage to its crumpled heap far more difficult to repair than the blunt force of the giants. The church's skeleton jutted out in charred black and ashen gray, glittering here and there with shards of stained glass. On the steps beneath its broken doorframe, a lone figure was sitting, as ashen as the church behind her.

She looked up, perhaps at the sound of their Apparation, perhaps at the glimpse of Dumbledore's yellow robes. Severus should have looked away, but he stood frozen as her gaze met his, feeling a jolt as recognition passed over her face.

Dumbledore was already striding toward the Aurors. With a spiky feeling of nervous uncertainty expanding in his belly, Severus turned the other way and crossed the square to the church.

"Mrs. Evans," he said.

She looked battered, her Muggle dress torn and so covered in dust that its original color was impossible to discern. Yet her face, though weary, was clear of any injury, and she searched his face for several moments before saying, "You're Severus, aren't you?"

"Severus Prince," he said firmly. "I believe you know my nephew."

She stared at him for several seconds, her green eyes darting over his worn figure before returning to meet his gaze. He, in turn, searched her for any signs of shock, but though she was trembling, he thought it had more to do with the cold and her inadequate attire than with any trauma – though the trauma, he knew, must be affecting her. She could not have seen anything like this massacre before. He could not imagine what she must think of it – of them, of wizards, and of the evil they had brought into her life and her daughter's.

He unclasped his cloak and stepped up the stone stairs to hand it to her. She tucked herself under it as if it were a blanket. "Thank you, Severus."

He hesitated, and she added, "Won't you sit down?"

The question was so familiar, and yet it had been decades since he had heard it. He felt a strange wave of nostalgia and grief rise up in him as he sat down beside her. He had no idea what to say.

"I remember the first time I saw you," she said suddenly.

He looked at her, not sure what she could mean.

"You were hiding in the bushes by the playground, watching Lily."

Severus opened his mouth to object, then shut it, another wave of that painful nostalgia washing over him.

"I'm sure you thought you were very well hidden," she said. "But I'm afraid there was a gap in the bushes that I was quite tall enough to see though, and there you were. Not just once, either. I think you were there every day for a month before I finally left Lily and Petunia alone. I thought maybe you would work up the nerve to talk to them if I wasn't there. I was sure I was intimidating you."

He hesitated, then said, "You were not half as intimidating as Petunia."

She smiled, a sad, weary smile that he didn't remember from the Mrs. Evans of his own world. "Petunia wasn't here today, you know. I was heartbroken this morning, but now I couldn't be more relieved."

"And your husband?"

"He made it out alive, thank heavens." She paused. "Although I think perhaps I should be thanking my grandson."

Severus gave her a surprised, wondering look, which she answered with an arched brow. "I may be a Muggle, Severus, but I think I can recognize my own family." She smiled again. "And you. There was a time when I saw you almost as often as I saw my own daughters."

Severus gave her a rueful look. "Your house had many charms that my own did not."

"Like Lily."

"And you," he said quietly. "You showed me more kindness than my own mother ever did."

Surprised pity welled in her eyes, and Severus looked away from the glisten of her tears. She slid a hand out from beneath his cloak and squeezed his shoulder. "You're a good man, Severus."

"I am not," he said quietly. "I made mistakes that the Severus you know has chosen not to make. Lily died because of me."

The hand on his shoulder tightened, but Mrs. Evans didn't let go. "And now you've come back to fix it."

He shook his head, his throat tight. "There is no fixing what I did. This is not my world. You are not the Mrs. Evans I knew… I am not from your future, but the future of another world, very much like yours but not identical. I promise that I will do everything in my power to ensure that your Lily does not die as my Lily did, but nothing will ever undo what I did to her."

"What did you do?"

"I overheard part of a prophecy predicting the birth of a wizard destined to defeat the Dark Lord. I told the Dark Lord what I had heard… and he concluded that your grandson was the wizard indicated. He murdered Lily because she would not stand aside and let him murder her son. Her sacrifice gave the boy the power he needed to survive. To win."

Mrs. Evans looked astonished, then alarmed. "But if you change that, can he still be defeated?"

Severus nodded decisively. "We know how to defeat him now. The greatest concern is navigating the differences between your world and our own. A marriage law was never passed in our world. This –" he gestured at the ruined church behind them, "did not happen. We were prepared for the possibility of an attack, but we did not anticipate anything of this magnitude. And there will be other differences, even greater differences, from this point forward…"

"The butterfly effect," Mrs. Evans said.

"Only in place of a butterfly, we have a law. A far more alarming source of change. And one that has only been exacerbated by our presence."

Mrs. Evans gazed out across the square in thought. "My grandson – Harry – and you. And his wife? Ginny, is that right?"

"She is his girlfriend. They have elected to fake a marriage to avoid any chance of conflict with the Ministry."

"And what about the other girl? Hermione Granger?"

"Yes. She is one of Harry's best friends."

"And your younger self? Does he know?"

"Yes. After your grandson rashly barged into this world, my younger self was the first person he encountered. Miss Granger was with him at the time, and was stranded here. We came to recover her." He hesitated. "And though we did not discuss it, I believe both your grandson and I had every intention of staying here until the war is won."

"And your own world? Won't they miss you?"

Severus almost scoffed at that, but caught himself. Would they miss him? The Longbottoms, Minerva… Filius… His heart wrenched again as he thought of the tiny wizard lying dead across the square.

"Perhaps," he said quietly. "But I have never been… close… with anyone. Not after Lily."

Mrs. Evans frowned at him. "Lily is not the only girl in the world, Severus."

"I know that," he said. "But I was… the cause of her death. I destroyed the one person in the world I had ever truly loved. How could I dare…?" He flushed, embarrassed to have said so much out loud.

He was even more embarrassed when Mrs. Evans slid her hand from his shoulder to rub a soothing circle on his back, as he had seen her do to Lily many times.

"I think it's clear she didn't die because you cared for her," Mrs. Evans said, in a tone that was equal parts stern and gentle. "She died because you tried to stop caring."

Severus gave her a sharp, pained look, and felt the pain drive deeper when he saw only compassion in her eyes. But she had not lost her Lily; she could afford to be forgiving.

The Mrs. Evans of his own world would have been less so, had she lived long enough to see what he had done.

"You died in a car accident," he said abruptly. "A few months from now, in my world. May I advise you to avoid cars for the foreseeable future? Or any other heavy machinery Muggles are irrational enough to operate?"

Mrs. Evans had looked startled at first, but at this she laughed. "Severus! You always were afraid of cars."

"With reason, obviously."

"I suppose I can't argue with that. How dreadful. The poor girls. And Dennis… I'm sure he had no idea what to do with them."

"Your husband died in the accident as well."

Mrs. Evans grimaced. "The poor girls."

Severus didn't answer. Though his compassion for Lily was acute, his memory of her son's account of his aunt's behavior made it impossible to feel sorry for Petunia.

"I think I ought to go to Lily," Mrs. Evans said, glancing across the square again. Severus could not see Lily through the crowd of Aurors, but he knew she must be there.

"She's been with James… His parents died, you know…"

"They were already dying of an illness. They were simply unaware of it."

Mrs. Evans stood up with a sigh. "I don't think that will be much comfort to him."

"No," Severus agreed. He hesitated. "You will not tell anyone what I have told you?"

She laid a hand on his head, as she had sometimes done when he was a child, no matter how greasy-haired he had been. "I like to think I'm more sensible than that, dear."

Severus gave her a half-smile. "More sensible than any of us, I daresay."

The Aurors were debating the logistics of transporting so many dead by the time Severus had collected himself enough to approach. Around them, and seemingly unaware of the argument, the few survivors who were not at St. Mungo's stood or knelt beside the bodies of those they had known. Severus saw Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley huddled together off to the side, both looking red-eyed and angry.

Potter saw him first. The relief on the boy's face was rather flattering. Then his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Where's Hermione?" the boy asked.

Severus frowned. "Surely you are aware that Miss Granger has been arrested?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "And Sirius, too. Dumbledore said they have to marry –"

"Moody has gone to convey the message," Severus said.

A clunk-clunk echoed his words. "Message conveyed."

They turned to watch Moody's lurching approach. Though his injuries had been healed, his robes were filthy and torn, and his new wooden leg was already coated in muck.

Neither Harry nor Ginny looked particularly happy with his pronouncement. "Isn't there a way around it?"

Moody arched a brow. "Around the law? Sure. Azkaban."

At their dismayed expressions, Severus rolled his eyes. "It is only temporary."

Ginny gave him a dark look. "Hermione's not going to like it."

"She might say no," Harry added.

Severus had considered that possibility as well. Though Miss Granger was a pragmatic young woman, she was also sentimental. He did not doubt that this was the last situation she would ever have envisioned for her wedding day. And she had proven herself capable of defying authority before.

Then again, it had been Potter whose open defiance had drawn Umbridge's ire during the Ministry's ill-advised takeover of Hogwarts. For the most part, Miss Granger had bitten her tongue in class, and rebelled in secret. He could only hope she would display the same cunning now. Though freeing her from Azkaban was not impossible (he did, after all, have his own Ministry-provided key), he thought it was unlikely he could manage it without bringing the entire Auror Department down on their heads.

"Granger seems like a sensible girl," Moody said. "She'll know marrying Black is better than Azkaban."

Potter gaped at him. "Marrying – who? What?"

Beside him, the Weasley girl looked just as surprised. "You want her to marry Sirius?"

Moody looked surprised. "Who else?"

To Severus's utter shock, both Potter and the Weasley girl looked at him. "But what about you?"

"What about me?" he asked, in as dangerous a tone as he could manage through his confusion.

They stared at him, then at each other.

"Er," Potter said.

"Well," Miss Weasley added.

"We just thought, er, you know…"

They stared at him, as if expecting him to understand their nonsense.

"Thought what?" he demanded.

Ginny Weasley made an impatient sound. "Come on, sir. If there's anyone she'd be willing to marry in a pinch, it'd be you."

Severus stared at her, trying (probably unsuccessfully) to hide his shock. The fact that Harry Potter and his all-too-Gryffindor girlfriend were calmly suggesting their best friend would marry him, the most reviled of all teachers, was almost completely overshadowed by their apparent certainty that Miss Granger would in fact be willing to follow through on such a (to her no doubt) nightmarish suggestion.

"You cannot be serious," he said.

Potter had the audacity to roll his eyes. "If it was a choice between you or Sirius, she'd choose you any day."

Ginny nodded.

"If this is your idea of a joke, Po-Peverell, then may I remind you that this is not an appropriate –"

"It's not a joke!" Potter exclaimed. "I mean, don't get me wrong – it's disturbing."

"Very disturbing," Ginny agreed.

"But please – Sirius? With Hermione?"

Ginny shook her head, frowning at Severus. "You don't understand women at all, do you?"

"And exactly how," he snarled, "am I more appealing to women than Sirius Black? Please, astound me."

"Well, all right," Ginny said. "You're not. Not to most women, anyway. I'd definitely pick Sirius."

Harry nodded.

"But this is Hermione. She wants someone serious and brilliant and responsible."

"Someone who can teach her things," Potter added, with an expression of supreme distaste.

"Plus there was that thing with Krum," Ginny said. "He looks a bit like you, you know."

Severus stared at them both in open incredulity. Had they gone mad?

"You expect me to believe," he said, half-mocking and half-unnerved, "that Miss Granger is harboring some kind of – of crush on me?"

"Not a crush, necessarily," Ginny said. "More a kind of potential."

"You can't tell us you haven't thought about it," Potter said.

"I most certainly have not!" Severus exclaimed, outraged.

They gave him disbelieving looks.

"I have known her since she was eleven!"

"So?" Ginny said. "She's not eleven now."

Severus stared at her in a kind of horror. "And is this what Miss Granger believes? That I have pursued a research partnership with her to facilitate some kind of – of –"

"Seduction?" Moody offered helpfully, evidently appreciating the scene, though he could not, of course, understand the full context.

"Is that what she believes?" Severus asked, his face burning, his Occlumency shields utterly useless against the two teenagers' casual conviction that he was preying on their friend.

"Not like that," Ginny said.

"Probably not at all," Harry added, in a tone that he apparently thought was fair. "But I'm sure she's thought about it. I mean, she's had to, what with Ron."

"That's why they rowed, you know," Ginny said. "He thinks you're secretly together."

"How Weasley could think that," Severus sneered, "I can easily imagine. But I would have thought you would have more sense. And I am certain Miss Granger does."

Potter frowned at him. "So you wouldn't have a problem with her marrying Sirius?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "It is only temporary, Peverell. What does it matter –"

"It'll matter to her," Ginny said.

The two teenagers gave him identical grim looks, their faces smeared with dirt and blood, their hair disheveled and filthy, the hint of tear tracks still pressed into their battle-stained faces. The rows of bodies behind them should have left them crippled with horror, yet here they stood, stubbornly insisting that he and Miss Granger had the potential for some secret romance as if it weren't the most repulsive thought that had ever entered their heads.

Perhaps the morning's trauma had finally broken them.

"Allow me to explain something," he said, in a low, deadly tone. "I am twenty years Miss Granger's senior –"

"We know –"

"Then think! Someone twenty years your junior has not even been conceived! Do you really imagine, with everything you have experienced in the last eighteen years, that someone who has not even been born yet could possibly be an equal partner to you twenty years from now? How much more will you have experienced by then? How many losses and triumphs, how many lessons and mistakes, how many jobs and relationships will you have had?"

"Have you had relationships?" Ginny asked skeptically.

Severus scowled at her. "I am not referring only to romantic entanglements, Mrs. Peverell. I have watched generations of children grow to adulthood. Do you think it likely that I could choose one among those many children and suddenly forget her age? When I was thirty-one, Miss Granger was bobbing up and down in her seat, unable to restrain herself from blurting out answers. When I was thirty-two, she was infatuated with Lockhart. When I was thirty-three, she was racing off to Hogsmeade for her first candy binge. When I was thirty-four, she was kissing Krum, who I thought at the time was too old for her. When I was thirty-five, she was knitting shapeless blobs in her endless quest to harass house-elves. When I was thirty-six, she was head over heels in love with Weasley. When I was thirty-seven –" Severus bared his teeth, looking at Ginny. "I think you remember that year. Do you think I had nothing better to do with my time than envision hideously inappropriate scenarios with truant students?"

He paused, catching his breath and reigning in his temper. "I am well aware that you did not regard yourselves as children during any of that time. You shouldered responsibilities that few adults ever face. Yet allow me to impress upon you that those of us who were actual adults were only too aware of your ages. You cannot comprehend, Mr. Peverell, how horrifying the prospect of an undersized twelve-year old battling a basilisk was to us all, nor can you imagine, Mrs. Peverell, how tiny you appeared when you showed up in the hospital wing after emerging from the Chamber of Secrets. You may delude yourselves into believing that I can set those memories aside and see only the lovely young woman Miss Granger has become, but I assure you, it is no rare occurrence that I look at her and see clearly the buck-toothed, furry-faced child who had cat ears protruding from beneath her ridiculous hair. I am proud of her, and I care deeply for her, and I hope to have her in my life for decades to come – but the idea that there could ever be anything sexual between us makes my skin crawl." He glared at them. "As it should yours."

They stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, for several seconds before Potter pulled himself together enough to say, "Well, yeah. Of course it does. But Hermione –"

"Deserves the opportunity to be loved as an equal, in every way."

"So you're marrying her to Sirius?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"For the last time: the arrangement is temporary."

"But what if something goes wrong?"

Severus folded his arms. "It is a relatively simple plan."

Potter snorted. "This is Hermione we're talking about. She makes battle plans just to tackle homework."

"Even I would be worried about something going wrong," Ginny said. "And so would you! What if she got stuck with him?"

"I would have thought that would please you," Severus said, glancing at Potter.

Harry snorted again. "Yeah, right. He'd be as bad as Ron." At Severus's surprised look, he added, "Don't get me wrong. Sirius is great. But with Hermione?"

Ginny shook her head. "It would be a disaster."

"There would be bloodshed," Potter said, then sobered immediately, seeming to recollect, finally, where he was and what had happened.

Traumatized, Severus thought. Yes – Potter and the Weasley girl were both avoiding the situation at hand with desperate effort.

"Granger seems more than capable of bloodshed," Moody said.

They all looked at him. Severus had half-forgotten he was there, and, judging by the looks on the others' faces, they had as well. Moody had been a fixture in all their lives for so long that his presence now felt more natural than his absence ever had.

"Those were some wards she cast," Moody added. "Not much to see now, with the Death Eater Inferi all burned, but in the middle of the battle…" He whistled. "Know anything about that?"

"What was it, exactly?" Potter asked, looking at Severus. "I saw them go down…"

"She cursed their penises," Ginny said easily.

Potter gave her an amusingly horrified look. Severus arched a brow. "She discussed the ward with you?"

"Sure," Ginny said, "I recommended that part."

"You what?" Potter asked, startled.

Ginny shrugged. "We were talking about Greyback, and it just seemed like a good precaution, for future. I think she designed the anti-Dark Mark one more as an exercise than anything. It's not like she could have used it much…"

With the Death Eaters in our world destroyed, Severus knew she meant. "What does Greyback have to do with it?"

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, and Severus felt a cold sliver of unease.

"Nothing happened," Ginny said hastily, seeing the look on his face.

"But it could have," Harry said, with a much darker look than Severus was used to seeing on the boy. "That ward wouldn't have worked on him, though. He never had the Mark."

Ginny shrugged. "Like I said, I think it was more of an exercise."

"Hell of a useful one," Moody said. "Wouldn't mind learning it… if she's not too busy using it on Black, that is."

Potter flinched. "She wouldn't."

Severus was amused to hear the doubt in his tone.

"It's not permanent," Ginny assured him. "At least, not that version of it."

Potter gave her a nervous look. "And, er, how do you know it?"

Ginny grinned. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Peverell. I'm sure I'll never have to use it on you."

CRACK.

Potter and Miss Weasley spun around, wands raised, and even Moody started with a look of alarm that Severus remembered well from the Moody of his own world. Several feet away, Barty Crouch, Sr. had appeared, his pristine robes contrasting sharply with the grimy, bedraggled group he had Apparated into.

"Lower your wands," he snapped.

Moody had already done so; Potter and Miss Weasley lowered theirs only slowly. It could not have been plainer that their instincts were cautioning them to do otherwise. Severus's own wand was clenched in his fist, but he kept it well hidden behind the folds of his robes.

How easy it would be to simply cast the Imperius Curse and end this all…

Crouch's gaze had flickered from the rings on the supposed Peverells' fingers to the conspicuous lack of any on Severus's. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How old are you?"

Severus cast a deliberate, disgusted glance at the rows of bodies behind them – now in the process of being moved – before answering slowly, "Thirty-nine."

Crouch's gaze sharpened. "Then you are in violation –"

"On the contrary, I think you will find that I am exempt from your despicable law." From the corner of his eye, he saw Potter's eyes widen comically. "According to Article Three, Section Four, Subsection C, wizards and witches unable to reproduce are not required to marry. As the stated purpose of marriage is to produce offspring, such wizards and witches are, I believe the law observes, 'useless to any spouse so unfortunate as to be attached to them.'"

Potter was truly gaping at him now.

"Proof of exemption must be provided," Crouch said.

"Of course." Severus withdrew the sheaf of parchment he had acquired at St. Mungo's and handed it to Crouch, who examined it carefully.

"This order of exemption is dated today," Crouch snapped. "The law has been in effect for months –"

"During which time I was abroad," Severus said smoothly. "I returned to Britain this morning for the Potters' wedding and reported to St. Mungo's immediately afterward."

Crouch scowled, but handed the parchment back. "You are related to Severus Snape?"

"I am his uncle."

"And you were planning to attend his wedding as well?"

His younger self would not be required to marry for three more weeks, but Severus only said, "Naturally."

"Mr. Snape's fiancée was in violation of the law," Crouch said. "Their wedding is taking place today, if it has not taken place already. Congratulations," he added without feeling. With a final glance at Potter and the Weasley girl, he strode away, presumably to harass someone else.

Severus stared after him. Surely he had not meant –

"So we were right!" Potter said triumphantly.

"I hadn't even considered that," Ginny added. "I wonder if she really likes him?"

"She must," Harry said. "But what about Sirius? Who's he marrying?"

"I'll find out," Moody growled, clunking away.

Severus said nothing. In his mind's eye, he saw again the way his younger self had stayed so close to Miss Granger as they had entered the church, how at ease he had seemed in her company. He had thought then that his younger self deserved better than he did, not having made the same mistakes, nor sacrificed the same values.

Was it really possible that he was not doomed to the same loveless life Severus himself had lived?

"It is only temporary," he said, as much to himself as to the teenagers.

Ginny gave him a sharp look. "What about your 'inability to reproduce'? Is that temporary?"

Severus met her gaze calmly. "No."

They stared at him. "You did it to yourself, didn't you? Before we came here."

He shrugged. "It seemed likely such an exemption would exist. When I spoke with the headmaster, he confirmed it, and informed me of the order of exemption I would need to obtain from the Healers."

"So you… what?" Potter asked, looking disturbed. "Used a spell like Hermione's ward…?"

"Of course not," Severus said, flinching at the very thought. "I am a potions master, Potter. I could brew any number of potions to induce sterility. The process was not painful."

"But you're not…" Potter looked alarmed.

Severus flushed. "I am not impotent, Potter, merely sterile. Nor have I castrated myself. Not that it is any of your business."

Whether it was his business or not, Potter looked profoundly relieved. His girlfriend, however, was still frowning.

"What if you change your mind?" she asked.

Severus snorted. "After nearly two decades of teaching children, I think I can safely say that there is nothing I would abhor more than producing one of my own."

"You would like your own better," she pointed out.

"There is no guarantee of that," he replied, thinking of his own parents and their often-expressed sentiments toward him. "In any case, as I have said… It is none of your business."

"Just the Ministry's," Potter said bitterly.

"For now," Severus said, scowling across the square at Crouch, who was snapping out orders to the Aurors – though whether those orders concerned Voldemort and his Death Eaters or rounding up more innocent people who didn't want to submit themselves to Random Spousal Assignment, he couldn't tell.

The bodies were being Disapparated one by one – to the Ministry, Severus assumed, or perhaps to St. Mungo's morgue. He saw Potter – James Potter – stumble away from his parents as Frank and Alice Longbottom each took one of the bodies and disappeared. Lily was there, too; her wedding dress was stained various shades of brown and black, her hair in disarray and her face swollen red with tears. Severus would have recognized her anywhere, and yet she looked strange to him, not because of the blood and filth, but because she was so young; younger than Miss Granger.

He had accused Potter and Miss Weasley of believing that he could set aside his memories and imagine Miss Granger to be older than she was, but he knew, in that instant, that he had in fact done so with Lily. When he thought of her, she was his own age; his peer, his equal. He had never thought before, she was barely more than a child when she died, but he thought it now, and it unsettled him.

"Is she too young?" Ginny asked, following his gaze.

Severus nodded slowly, but without resistance. "Yes."

Ginny patted his arm. "This is probably really good for you."

He shot her a look for her impertinence, but she was frowning around at the rapidly emptying square. "What now?"

"I need to find Fiend," he said immediately.

"I saw her with your, er, nephew," Harry said. "But I lost track of them."

"No doubt because he went to claim Miss Granger's hand," Severus said, smirking at his younger self's audacity, and so relieved to hear Fiend was with him that the humor of the appalling situation was beginning to strike him.

"I wish I could be there," Ginny said.

"Longing for a wedding, Miss Weasley?" Severus said, reminding her with a sweeping movement of his arm of the devastation the last one had caused.

"No," she said, sighing wearily. "I just want to see if Hermione slaps the officiant across the face."