Chapter 5: Married on Sunday

Fall passed into winter, yet Severus hardly noticed it. He spent much of his time stomping around the castle and feeling sorry for himself. Even if his period of mourning for James might be relatively short, his grieving for Lily was lingering, and the woman was still alive! The situation as it stood presently made Dumbledore's cautionary advice and all he had offensively suggested behind that advice fester inside him still more.

He spent the tail end of that fall term of 1981 grading papers and trying to adjudicate his students' work as fairly as possible without going plumb insane himself. He supposed one man's fair was another man's harsh, but it wasn't as though he was grading on a curve, and besides, his colleagues at least had someone to go home to. Stubbornly bachelor Albus and a spinsterly Minerva McGonagall were the few, unmarried exceptions on staff aside from himself.

Though, with how Severus was by now making himself a regular visitor at St. Mungo's Hospital for Psychologically Disturbed Individuals, a part of him felt as though he was married in his heart, to the languishing lady he now visited.

The Healers staffed there were at least sensitive enough not to ask questions regarding his relation to the afflicted. No doubt many of them knew Lillian Potter had been happily married up until recently, so if any of the nurses did send him strange looks, the most they should jolly well say and keep to themselves was that the gentlemen who now came by to visit Lily's sickbed had been a friend, in her past life.

Oftentimes, Severus would depart from the castle to the hospital soon after his final lecture let out, and stayed posted sentinel in a chair by Lily's bedside until well after dark, when the orderlies taking on the night-owl watch would come by and shoo him away. Until the holiday break was heralded in, he frequently brought work with him, grading papers while occasionally lifting his head to drink in Lily's lovely face, lying in unconscious repose.

It was the waning days of November – Lily hadn't even been here a month – when the first marked change to her condition was detected. Naturally, Severus had been the first one to notice it, though that had been on luck: had he not been looking directly at her in the moment, he no doubt would have missed it.

Her right hand – hooked up to IVs and with her wedding ring still adorning her finger – twitched. Then a kind of groan, a pretty stirring, emanated from her. He hunted down and nearly mowed down the first Healer nurse he came across, all but dragging the plump woman into Lily's partition. To his ever-increasing hope and elation, Severus observed as Lillian roused back into the world of the living.

She opened her hazel-green eyes, the lashes fluttering, and his throat had wrestled down a cheer. His heart pattered in his chest that, though she was blinking dumbly, he was the first thing she saw.

His relief at there being some progress was dampened in the next second when her pretty voice lifted, from at first a croak for lack of use and then back into her familiar, trilling lilt, into a question:

"Do I know you?"

Severus forgot for a moment just what she had endured and his unrestrained tongue answered her in a way that sounded insulted. "What are you talking about? It's me. Severus!"

Lily still studied him blankly, as though she had never seen him before. The busybody Healer glowered at him witheringly before more or less banishing him from Lillian's sickroom. When she, the attending nurse, finally departed only to find Severus still there, she nonetheless took pity on him.

"The missus is awake and alert as much as she is able," she murmured. "At this stage, it is even more than we could have dared hoped for, anyway. But she still has no idea where she is, and she doesn't seem aware of who she is, either within herself, or how she relates to other people." She regarded Severus sympathetically. "The poor dear seemed quite puzzled by that wedding ring on her finger! Who knows when she'll realize she is your wife?"

Severus blinked. "Errr…. Well, I'm not exactly her husband…."

"Exactly?" The matronly Healer stopped short and lifted a judgmental eyebrow. "You either are, or you're not."

"All right…." Severus grunted, steam practically coming out of his ears. "I'm not." Seeing as how this Healer was clearly new or at least hadn't heard of the attack on the Potters, he supposed he could have lied and claimed he was married to Lily, on the chance that it might allow him even freer access to her. But there was an equally strong chance that this claim might get back to Healers who knew otherwise or who had tended to James. Better not to risk that.

Still, as he swept heartbrokenly away from St. Mungo's, the developments of this day certainly told him a lot: Lily was alive, awake and alert, at least enough to speak readily in complete, spontaneous sentences. Her expressive language had clearly returned to her. Receptive language might be – clearly would be – more challenging, if she didn't have a clue who she was, or where she was, or whom mattered most importantly to her. As her baseline stood now, it was about as bad as being Obliviated. And Lily had it worse because she had been tortured with an Unforgivable, not had a Memory Charm placed on her.

But one thing about Memory Charm curses: there was about as little documentary evidence over whether an afflicted victim could completely recover their faculties in much the same way as victims as Cruciatus. That didn't bode well.

But Severus Snape had never been a man to give up. In himself, perhaps yes, but he wouldn't give up on Lily. Not now. Not until the very end had she given up on him, when he had given her enough evidence, blown enough chances, for her to write him off.

Perhaps there was one silver lining to all of this: if she didn't know who he was, then it stood to reason that she didn't know or recall any of the hurtful things he had said and done to her.

But, no matter what had happened between them in the past, he was going to be there for her. Just as he knew she would be there, if perhaps not for him, then surely for her husband and her baby boy.

Her boy!

It almost shamed him how he had completely forgotten about Harry in his weeks of stewing. Dumbledore hadn't deigned to tell him where the tyke was, perhaps out of an abundance of caution, but even so…. What if Lily made certain improvements enough to remember that she was not only a wife, but a mother too, however unlikely that development seemed at the moment? If she did regain some memory, enough to wonder about Harry, what was he to tell her?

Severus decided he would have to find out for himself, by going back over all he knew about his best friend.

She had grown up in his same hometown: Cokeworth, though he had lived on the more working-class side of the tracks. Poring through Muggle libraries and tomes of telephone books, newspaper clippings, Severus came across, with a pang, the nuptial announcement heralding his best friend's marriage: EVANS WEDS POTTER. Below were listed the respective members of the wedding party, followed by the immediate relatives of the groom and bride. Severus recalled, and not at all fondly, how Lily had a sister, yet curiously, a Miss Petunia Evans was not listed as the Maid of Honor. One Mary MacDonald, an old school acquaintance whom he'd known to be one of Lillian's particular girlfriends had played the part in the sister's stead.

Moving on to the listings of the groom and bride's families, he hit paydirt: Sister of the Bride: Petunia Dursley (neé Evans), of Surrey (in abstentia).

Severus grinned, dark eyes gleaming. Bingo.

Surrey wasn't at all too far from Cokeworth; it was clear Petunia hadn't fallen too far from the tree, at least in terms of where to make her own nest. Temperamentally, she couldn't have been more opposite the kind, compassionate nature of her parents, the late Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Severus fought to push some of his few happier childhood memories aside to focus on the task at hand. A quick scouring of the yellow pages turned up an address in that area, belonging to a Mr. Vernon Dursley: the neighborhood of Little Whinging, a clearly Muggle subdivision.

Severus thus set off for Little Whinging, keeping to the edges and the sidestreets. He spied on the Dursleys one morning while hidden in some hedges across the way, to discover, with horror, how Lily's baby had been quite literally thrown out with the bathwater. The lad was now sitting up naked in a washtub, balanced dangerously on the sill of the front window, while in the background, Petunia – his aunt – bustled about as though she hardly noticed him. Little Harry didn't seem to mind, giggling and splashing with glee, though there was a blue to his cheeks and it made Severus want to scoff. What woman washed her nephew like he was yesterday's laundry….. outside in the middle of winter? Did the cow want the tyke to catch a cold?! He was only mildly heartened when Petunia finally took Harry out of the washtub and back into the warmth of the house, though it cynically seemed to be in service of also removing said washtub from the windowsill so she could slam the window shut.

Needless to say, Severus was eager to march right back to Dumbledore and confront him over what he had uncovered:

"You're letting Lillian's son be raised by Muggle filth? Would you let him be reared no better than a dog?"

"For the sake of your Lily, Severus, I'd advise you to watch your words and the prejudice within them," Dumbledore warned him mildly. "That's the Death Eater in you talking."

"Elephants then! His uncle and cousin certainly gallop about like they are! I saw the pudgy oaf kicking his pop up the street, screaming for sweets!"

"Oh, come now, Severus," Dumbledore tutted, frustratingly unbothered. "You should know that elephants are actually quite an intelligent animal…"

Severus folded his arms petulantly. "If you would be so kind as to be serious….!"

"I am being serious," Dumbledore countered mildly, rising to gather his cloak. "Just as I am quite serious in my intent to now see to Lillian, if you wish to come along."

It was quite a redirection on the Headmaster's part from the grave matter at hand, yet Severus still allowed himself to be distracted by it.

The two men traveled together by Portkey – the conduit placed just outside the wards of the school grounds, to reach St. Mungo's. When they swept into the mental health ward, Severus pulled up short, stopped dead, in fact, at the sight of the gentleman who was clearly there to meet them. His eyes narrowed into slits.

"Black."

Sirius Black, once the right-hand man of James Potter and another of Severus's school-day tormentors, looked equally as nonplussed to find Severus Snape here. "Snivellus." Apparently, the man hadn't outgrown his use for childish nicknames in quite the same way he clearly outgrew his hair; he looked every bit like the mangy dog that he was, in more ways than one.

Dumbledore quite deliberately moved between the two men, his tone still remarkably calm. "Let us all agree that we are here for Lily, and that we all harbor a vested interest as to what's best for her."

Sirius scowled but signaled his agreement with a curt nod of his head. Severus mirrored him. Then the three men swept into the partition containing Lily's sickbed.

The curtains were drawn, and a few Healers were just clearing away what must have been an examination. Lily was sitting up in her cot, a clean hospital gown on her. Her auburn ringlets were straight, sleek and shiny, framing her lovely face like a halo. Her hazel eyes were enraptured by something blaring from a small telly, perched on a wheeled cart directly in front of the sickbed.

"Gentlemen, if I might remind you there is a limit of three visitors at a time…?"

"Quite all right, Melania, my dear; we number three," Dumbledore gestured to himself, Severus and Sirius. "If you require the patient further, we shan't disturb her long."

Melania, the Healer, smiled at Dumbledore gently, though the expression did not reach her eyes. "She's feeling quite content today, Headmaster." And she bustled off.

Sirius was floating towards Lily's sickbed as though in some kind of trance himself. Not once did Lily turn her head to interrupt her program, which clearly included music as it wafted over to them:

"It couldn't be, he's in court, he's in court today; still that was noise. Wasn't that a noise? You must have heard that…."

Dumbledore turned back to the telly with interest, eyes sparkling. "Oh! I so jolly well enjoyed this show when it played the West End!" Severus followed his gaze, taking in the grainy picture of what seemed to be a stage production, filmed live. Some program, he supposed.

Sirius, meanwhile, was still gawking at Lily the way one might observe an exhibit in a zoo. "Lily?..." he gasped quietly. "It's me. You remember me, don't you? Your old pal, Sirius? I was there when your boy was baptized, you made me godfather…"

Only by the fact that he was speaking nearly in her ear was Lily sufficiently distracted away from her program. Her hazel eyes sparkled with the joy of meeting someone new. "Oh…. hullo! Have we met?" Sirius couldn't answer; the tosser seemed to have suddenly lost the ability to speak. Dancing eyes shifting up, Lily suddenly let out a gay little laugh and reached up, childlike, to run her fingers through Sirius's curls. "Goodness, but I love your curls! Do you have them done by a hairdresser?"

Sirius was babbling a bit to himself under his breath, sounding close to tears. "I gave Harry a toy broomstick for his birthday, Lillian, please!..."

"Broomstick?" Lily wrinkled her nose. "Why would you give a broomstick as a birthday present? It is a rather dull gift, isn't it?"

Sirius let out a kind of howl and staggered away from the cot, utterly distraught. "She's lost her mind!"

"Well, then, be a ruddy bit useful for once in your life, Black, and HELP HER!"

"Confound it all, Snape, I'm an Auror, not a doctor! I mean, I am a doctor, but in a more medic, military capacity, I have a soldiers' credentials, it's not the same thing – you just sit there and you're USELESS!" Sirius rambled up into a shout while gesturing helplessly at his best friend's wife, head drooping into his palms.

A part of him knew it was low, yet Severus couldn't resist the urge to smirk. "Finally, something about you we can agree on."

"Severus, really," Albus admonished, though it was light. He strode forward, stealing a companionable arm about Sirius. "Come now, my boy – I'll fix us a tonic. Or perhaps a cuppa? There's a cafeteria on the ground floor…"

"Please," Sirius nodded his head glumly, allowing himself to be led away. Severus hung back, watching the beautiful woman he loved becoming reabsorbed in her television program. He couldn't resist drifting over to her, though he tried not to ogle her as blatantly as Sirius had. Behind them, the music from the telly wafted back.

"It's me you'll marry on Monday. That's what you'll do!"

"And gladly sir!"

"St. Dunstan's, noon…"

Lily suddenly noticed him, turning her head calmly to take him in. "I've seen you here before, haven't I?" she blurted out quite abruptly.

Severus nodded dumbly, hardly daring to breathe. Lily giggled, nearly in his face.

"You're cute!" she decided declaratively. "Will you come round again?"

"Of…. of course," Severus spluttered. Feeling awkward, he was just about to turn and go when Lily suddenly took his face in her hands and jerked him back to her.

"Wait! – Kiss me!" She seemed to be singing along with the pretty blonde young woman now trilling out a brief aria on the telly.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus spluttered.

"Quickly?"

"You're sure?"

Severus ignored the singing from the telly completely, suddenly lost in Lily's hazel green eyes – eyes that seemed to him like there might still be something lurking there, underneath them.

"Kiss me!" Lily trilled, singing along with the program. Her eyes became lidded and against his better judgment, Severus found himself drawing in close, his lips but a hair's-breadth from hers. No one was watching, no one would see if he kissed her goodbye. Lily likely wouldn't remember if they kissed goodbye…

Ah, sir….

Ah, miss….

"All right, Mrs. Potter, let's take a look at your vitals….!"

The Healer's voice carried down the last few feet before she rounded into the partition, before she pulled back the curtain. Lily turned away expectantly, dutifully, releasing Severus as abruptly as she had grabbed for him, before their lips could touch and Severus stumbled back into a chair in the split instant before the orderly pulled back the curtain. He took that as his cue to leave, nodding to the Healer absently before stumbling out of there.

Once he worked his brain hard enough to get that infernal showtune out of his head, all he could think of was:

What the bloody hell was that?