Naturally, Potter couldn't let Severus start the school year in peace. He couldn't even make it all the way to Hogwarts without getting into trouble, whether that was operating an illegal vehicle or brawling on the Hogwarts Express. Why couldn't he just show some restraint for once? This constant need to inconvenience everyone, this insistence on placing himself in danger?
Severus shook his head, his mood foul as he arrived at the gates. Was Potter truly too stupid to understand what it meant to be a target? Separating himself from the other students… why not stand right out in the open and hold up a bloody sign?
Indeed, it was fortunate that Nymphadora had been there to rescue the boy, though speaking of bad judgment…
"I was interested to see your new Patronus," he told her. "I think you were better off with the old one."
Cruel? Perhaps, though he didn't regret saying it. Nymphadora had never been a favorite of his, but she could certainly do better than Lupin. Had anyone bothered to tell her that? Somehow, he doubted it. Even if her poor choice got her killed, the rest of the Order would swear up and down that it hadn't been Lupin's fault.
"50 points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think," he said, turning his attention to Potter. "And let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, I don't believe any House has ever been in negative figures this early in the term…"
To his surprise, the boy managed to hold his tongue, remaining silent on the long walk up to the school. A rare show of good judgment? Perhaps. Or maybe he was just trying to manipulate Severus into restoring the points he'd taken.
Deciding it was the latter, he made one more snide comment before he allowed Potter to join his friends.
"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year," Dumbledore announced a few minutes later. "Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."
This was what Severus had been waiting for, his one consolation in a world where he had little to look forward to. Draco's task, Dumbledore's hand, the Unbreakable Vow…
"Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"No!" Potter shouted.
Even if he hadn't wanted the position, the boy's outrage would've made it worthwhile to accept. As it was, he'd had legitimate reason for seeking the post, his knowledge and experience unparalleled. That was crucial now, far more crucial than it had been in years past. They were in the middle of a war, after all. These children had to learn how to defend themselves.
Of course, there was one student in particular who needed his guidance. Getting him to accept that guidance? That would be a challenge, to say the least.
"I wish to speak to you," Severus informed his students, "and I want your fullest attention."
Potter's expression remained fixed, caught somewhere between boredom and loathing. Wasn't he listening? Severus wasn't instructing him on how to cure boils or other such nonsense. These were matters of life and death.
"Your defenses," he said, elevating his voice, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo."
Of course, talking could only get him so far, even with his most respectful, attentive students. He instructed everyone to split into pairs, appalled to discover that most of them didn't have a clue how to cast nonverbals.
"Pathetic, Weasley. Here, let me show you…" He whipped around, pointing his wand at Potter.
"Protego!"
Was the boy incapable of following even the most basic instructions? Granted, he'd cast an adequate Shield Charm, but that wasn't the point. Severus scowled, stumbling before he managed to right himself.
"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?"
"Yes."
"Yes, sir," he corrected.
"There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor."
Severus fumed for the rest of the day, so incensed that he chose to skip the evening meal. At this point, the last thing he needed was another look at the boy's smug face. He really was a stunningly accurate representation of his father, arrogant and insolent, not half as clever as he thought he was. If he wasn't careful, didn't learn to listen…
Sighing heavily, Severus settled himself in his sitting room before he ordered up a plate of sandwiches. He ate without tasting the food, ate because like so many things, it was necessary to do so. This year would require a lot of strength, perhaps more strength than he had. He just wished…
Wished what, exactly? That Potter would learn to accept his guidance before it was too late? That he was more like his mother, a child who wasn't so impossible to deal with? Lily had been headstrong, yes, sometimes stubborn to a fault. But she'd also been modest, open-minded, willing to listen to other points of view. She hadn't been so… so…
Severus didn't bother coming up with another round of insults. As always, the thought of Lily was enough to reinforce his sense of purpose, reminding him that it didn't matter. He'd sworn to protect Potter, which he intended to do regardless of how deplorable the boy might be.
Finishing his meal, he glanced at the box on the shelf. It had sat there for more than a week, impervious to all his attempts to open it. Would tonight be different? It didn't seem likely, though he couldn't resist the temptation to give it another go. Summoning it with a flick of his wand, he set it on the table next to his chair.
"Summa revelare."
Nothing happened.
"Nexosque resolueret."
Again, nothing.
He shook his head, flipping through the book he'd retrieved from the library. It was a collection of ancient charms, most of which had fallen out of use over the past few centuries.
"Absolvisti vicibus suis?" he said, attempting to duplicate the complex wand movement. He tried again, more confident this time, though it made no difference. The box remained sealed, seeming to mock his efforts.
He tried at least a dozen other spells before he finally gave up, cursing under his breath as he set it back on the shelf. One more sip of tea and he headed to bed, lying there for more than an hour before he finally fell asleep.
"What's that?"
"It's a diary, Sev. Look, I've been writing down everything you've told me."
Two heads were bent close together, one red, one black. The children sat on a patch of grass beside a dirty looking river, the sun setting slowly behind them.
"It isn't 'Laymos', Lily," the one with the black hair said. "It's Lumos. L-U-M-O-S."
"Oh, I'm so stupid. I thought you said…"
"Don't ever call yourself that. You're the smartest witch I know."
"Smarter than your mum?"
The boy nodded.
"But I don't even know how to cast any spells."
"You'll have no trouble learning once we get to Hogwarts. I bet you'll even make up a few of your own."
"Really?" the redhead said, her eyes wide. "You really think my magic is powerful enough for that?"
"Of course I do. Wouldn't have said it if I didn't."
"Maybe…" She giggled, a sound that made the boy beam in response. "Maybe I'll invent the Laymos spell."
They both laughed, their voices trailing off into a faint echo as the scene faded to black.
Severus shot up in bed, his heart thrumming wildly as he reached for his wand. Hurrying to the sitting room, he snatched the box off the shelf, dropping into his chair before he settled it in his lap.
"Lumos," he whispered.
That didn't open the box, obviously, but it gave him enough light to see what he was doing. He lit a couple candles, holding his breath as he pressed the tip of his wand against the wrought iron lid.
"Laymos."
For a brief, utterly disheartening moment, nothing happened. But then he heard the slightest creak, the lid opening by slow degrees.
The first thing he noticed was her smell. He hadn't had so much as a whiff of that fragrance in nearly two decades, swallowing hard as countless memories flashed through his mind. They were far more vivid than they usually were, inspired by the knowledge that he was handling items she'd personally touched. He couldn't even see what they were at first, tears blurring his vision as he stacked them haphazardly on the table.
Gradually, they began to separate themselves, transforming into distinct, recognizable objects. Letters. Pictures. Dozens of vials, labeled in Lily's unmistakable handwriting. They were dates, he realized, his hands shaking as he arranged them in chronological order. October 29, 1979, which of course, was the last time they'd been together. July 31, 1980…
He grabbed the pictures, flipping through them in rapid succession. Lily… young, beautiful, vibrantly alive. He wiped his eyes so he could see her more clearly, frowning as he noticed a common theme. None of the pictures featured Lily by herself. She was always with the baby… holding him, sleeping beside him, giving him a bath or playing with him on the floor. There were even a couple of her breastfeeding, her expression so peaceful it brought a lump to his throat. She hadn't known what fate had in store for her, couldn't have imagined that she'd be dead in less than a year.
Then again…
He picked up a vial, the one labeled July 31. Memories of her in labor, perhaps even giving birth? Why would she have chosen to show him such intimate moments, knowing they could only cause him pain?
Severus couldn't begin to understand it, though he knew she'd had a purpose in sharing these things. So much focus on the child… that child he'd despised for so many years…
Potter's child.
Was that why she'd done this? Had she had some strange sense of foreboding? If she'd feared for her life, Potter's life… if she'd foreseen a time when the boy's protection might fall to him…
Yes, he supposed she would've tried to form a connection. She would've appealed to his emotions, desperate to make him feel something that wasn't hatred or resentment. Obviously, she hadn't realized that it didn't matter. He would've protected her child, regardless.
Setting the vial down, Severus placed the pictures back in the box before he reached for the letters. These were dated, too, each scroll tied with a slender length of ribbon. December 25, 1980. January 9, 1981. April, May, June… October 31, 1981.
She'd written him on the day she'd died? He shook his head, struggling to keep his emotions in check as he reached for the earliest scroll. August 1, 1980… he took a deep breath, untying the ribbon with a flick of his wrist.
Dear Severus,
I know I'm supposed to be deliriously happy right now. I am, really, but I can't seem to stop crying. Is it normal to feel this way? I'm happy and miserable all at the same time… every part of me feels wonderful but everything hurts.
Is this what it's like to have a baby? I have no idea, and there's no one around I can ask. There's no one I can talk to at all, really. No one but you, which I guess is why I'm writing this letter.
Maybe that's where all this sadness is coming from. The only person I want… the only one I should be able to share this with… he isn't here. He can't be here, and I know that's my fault, but I didn't have a choice. I hope you'll understand that, that you won't blame me for what I've done. I hope Harry won't blame me either. It's a terrible thing, keeping a son from his father, but…
Had he read that wrong? Her handwriting was messier than usual, the ink smudged in several places. She'd been crying when she'd written this, exhausted in the aftermath of giving birth. Surely she hadn't meant…
He's yours, Severus. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I hope you'll hear it directly from me rather than reading it in a letter, but just in case… I need you to know how and why this happened.
He felt the color drain from his face, his hands shaking so badly he dropped the letter. Falling to his knees, he snatched it back up, only to realize he'd reached the conclusion.
I'm too tired to explain, but if you look at the memories… just the first two vials for now… that should help you understand.
I love you, Severus. I never stopped loving you. Someday you'll realize that, even if I can't tell you quite yet.
Yours,
Lily
He was dreaming. He had to be. Sooner or later, he'd wake up, only to discover that the box was a product of his fevered imagination. It wouldn't be the first time he'd dreamed of her, fooling himself into believing all manner of things that weren't real.
This time would be no different. He was sure of it, yet there was no denying his curiosity. Summoning the Pensieve, he uncapped the earliest memory, dumping the contents into the basin.
It was as if the past 15 years had never happened. He fell forward only to be jerked back in time, landing in Potter's kitchen in the midst of a heated argument.
"Severus? That's ridiculous."
"I would've thought so, too. When Peter first told me…"
The rat… that bloody rat had been spying on them? Severus shook his head, his eyes fixed on Lily as she spoke.
"If you knew he was here, what we were doing… why didn't you…"
"Why didn't I come back and catch you in the act?"
The argument continued, revealing any number of things that left Severus fuming. Potter had attempted to blackmail her. He'd tried to force her to have his child. In the end? He'd succeeded. She'd gotten pregnant only a few weeks after…
No, that wasn't right. What she'd said in her letter… it still didn't make sense, but…
"How did you know I was with him?"
"Haven't we been through this already? I sent Peter…"
"No, after the battle. Did you just assume, or…"
"Tracking charm."
Severus frowned, moving closer as Potter tossed a scrap of parchment on the table. It had an address written on it… his address at Spinner's End. He watched Lily's face turn pale, wishing he could've been there to tell her not to panic.
Of course, none of this would've happened if he'd been there. He didn't know what he would've done to stop it, but…
"He's a bloody Death Eater!"
"He's a better man than you'll ever be!"
Potter had never look so furious, lifting his hand like he was about to hit Lily. Severus moved to intervene only to remember that he didn't have that option. All he could do was snarl insults… insults that neither of them would ever hear.
Fortunately, Potter didn't hit her. He took a drink instead, shooting her a nasty glare.
"This has to stop. You and Snivellus, whatever madness this is… it has to stop."
"I don't want it to stop."
Lily went on to tell Potter that she didn't love him. She asked for an annulment, which he refused. It then became clear that Potter was having an affair, too. He'd been carrying on with… Black? Lily didn't go into detail, but Severus had no trouble reading between the lines. A hundred tiny clues shifted into place… snatches of their current argument, things she'd told Severus, rumors he'd heard at school…
Potter's reasons for marrying her… what had she just said? He'd wanted to pass on his family's name. He hadn't been in love with her, or…
"You can end it. That's the only option I'll accept."
"And if I refuse?"
"If you refuse, I'll give his address to the Order. I'm sure they'd love to capture a known Death Eater, especially when he's alone and vulnerable."
Lily was terrified now, which of course, had been Potter's intention.
"What do I have to do?" she whispered.
"Break it off. Never see him again."
"Yes, but what do I have to do to keep him safe?"
Severus felt sick, knowing where this was going even as he realized there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wished he could bring Potter back to life… bring him back to life so he could deliver a second, much more excruciating death.
"All right," Lily said quietly. "I'll take the Vow."
One by one, the pieces settled into place, his stomach churning as he watched her negotiate the terms of their separation. He stood beside her chair as she wrote the letter, the one that had shattered his heart.
His heart? No, her heart, which was infinitely worse. She was weeping now, her hand shaking as it moved across the parchment.
"Be careful what you say. He needs to believe this is your choice."
"This is wrong. James, please…"
Severus could hardly bear to watch what happened next. He forced himself to do it, however, knowing it was what Lily had wanted. He stood by as Potter took his bloody Vows, bracing himself for…
"Actually, I've changed my mind."
"But… you swore you'd do it! It was supposed to be me then you, then…"
"Oh no, I'll take the Vow. But it won't be permanent."
Three years? If she'd only bargained down to one year, two…
She couldn't have known. Of course she hadn't. That was the cruelest part of all, the fact that they'd come so close. The day she'd died… only a year before the Vow would've expired, setting her free to do whatever she liked. No need to worry about Potter or Black, no reason to fear…
One more fucking year. They could've had everything.
Severus withdrew from the Pensieve, his body shaking as he landed in his sitting room. Shaking with rage? With grief? He couldn't say, taking a deep, shuddering breath as he attempted to collect his thoughts.
Indeed, so many things made sense now. He'd never understood why she hadn't responded to his messages, even just to tell him to leave her alone. Of course, it had never occurred to him that her doing so would've been an act of suicide.
Swallowing hard, he summoned his teapot as he rose to his feet. As desperate as he was to see the other memories, he needed a few minutes to calm down. It was all too much, nearly two decades of assumptions and misconceptions turned thoroughly inside out.
Speaking of misconceptions… the boy…
Five minutes later, he was back in the Pensieve, standing in an unfamiliar bathroom. Lily was alone this time, casting a charm he didn't recognize. She cast it once, twice, and then a third time, looking like she was about to faint as she pressed a hand to her stomach.
She never spoke, but it didn't matter. He understood what was happening.
That memory was much shorter than the last one, just the briefest glimpse of the past before he was transported back to the present. Remembering what she'd said, he picked up the next letter, his legs giving out beneath him as he dropped into his chair.
I'd never been so scared, she'd written. What was I supposed to do? Terminating the pregnancy wasn't an option, but James would know that the baby wasn't his. We'd never done that, you see. Came close a few times, but since he's never fancied girls…
James Potter was homosexual. Severus had suspected it in light of the affair with Black, but having it confirmed…
Lily had never been with anyone else. That night at the cottage… why hadn't she told him? Deciding it didn't matter, he shook his head as he continued to read.
I won't tell you what I had to do. I don't want to think about it, honestly. The point is, I figured out how to make him think the baby was his. I lied about how far along I was, lied about the due date… I even found a way to lie to you. I sent out a bunch of letters…
Oh yes, Severus knew about the letters, one of which had set his mind at ease. The false due date, placing her well out of danger… the same date that had made it impossible for him to believe what she was telling him now…
I'm sorry, Severus. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hide it from you, but what else could I do?
The last thing he wanted was her apology. What he wanted – what he needed – was to know the rest. If this was a dream…
No, this wasn't a dream. It couldn't be. No dream had ever been so thorough, so brutal, so utterly bewildering that he hardly knew who he was anymore.
Uncapping the next vial, he braced himself as he dropped the silvery substance into the Pensieve.
First, he was given glimpses of her pregnancy, her body changing so rapidly he could hardly keep up. The memories only slowed down when he arrived at her bedside, faint rays of sunrise creeping through the window.
July 31, 1980…
By then, he'd done the math. If what she said was true, she would've been a week past her due date when this memory took place. She certainly looked that way, her belly so massive it took her several attempts to sit up.
"I think I'll spend the day in bed," she called to Potter, wincing as she pressed a hand to her lower back, "see if I can nap until later this evening."
Severus knew she'd given birth at home. He also knew she'd done it without a midwife present. Still, he'd assumed she'd had someone there to help her. He'd also assumed that it had happened so fast there wasn't time to make it to St. Mungo's. Why else would she…
She wouldn't have… unless, of course, she'd had something to hide.
16 years of preconceived notions shattered, forming a very different picture as the pieces settled into place. A long, grueling labor… an ordeal she'd chosen to go through alone…
At first, it wasn't so bad. She paced back and forth, ate breakfast, even took a nap, her expression peaceful as the scene faded. But then morning gave way to afternoon, her voluminous nightgown replaced by a towel as she returned to the bedroom. She barely had time to close the door before she grimaced, an expression that told him her pain was getting worse.
"Bloody hot," she muttered when the contraction ended. The towel was on the floor now, but she didn't seem to notice, casting a cooling charm before she summoned a glass of water. Her body…
No, this child wasn't premature. Severus was no expert, but one look at her told him all he needed to know. Her breasts were heavy and swollen, belly so distended it was a wonder she didn't topple over. Five weeks early? No one would've believed that. She was obviously nine months pregnant… nine months and then some.
He didn't have time to dwell on what that meant. There was a splash, followed by a sharp cry… Lily gripped the bedpost, her face pale as she eased herself onto the mattress.
"I can do this," she whispered. "Muffliato."
A moment later, her features contorted, her mouth opening to unleash a scream. The memories were fragmented now, brief flashes of her gasping and moaning, arching her back, hands clawing at the sheets. Suddenly it was nighttime, her body silhouetted in darkness, skin glistening with sweat beneath a single shaft of moonlight. Her suffering was unbearable to watch, all the more so when she started pleading for someone to help her.
No, not someone. Him.
"Severus…"
He hadn't been there… hadn't even known…
"Please… Severus… oh god, I can't…"
She cried out for him several more times, twisting his heart until he groaned right along with her. His was a different kind of pain, yet agonizing nonetheless… he fell to his knees, his face level with hers.
"If I'd known," he told her, "I would've never let it happen this way. I would've…"
He didn't know how much he could've done, honestly, but she would've at least had potions to ease the pain, words of encouragement, the knowledge that she wasn't alone. He could've alleviated her fears, would've told her…
"You'll make it through this. I know you don't realize that yet, but you will."
She didn't hear him. Of course she didn't. She reached for her wand instead, casting what appeared to be a diagnostic charm.
And then…
"Bloody hell."
She leaned forward, panting and pushing for several minutes before she fell back against the pillows. Again and again, she repeated the process, though it was a futile effort. He could hear that in the noises she made, frustration mingled with a sharp edge of fear. She pushed with all the strength she had, her body trembling with effort, yet still…
Suddenly, she was kneeling, stomach visibly tightening as she hunched forward. She still sounded miserable, grunting and straining, but this was something different. There was relief in her voice, too.
"Lumos! Accio mirror!"
He tried to move closer, but the memory shifted. The next thing he knew, she was pushing again, groaning low in her throat, tears streaming down her cheeks. She pushed with more force than he would've thought any human was capable of, reaching down to cradle the small, dark head as it appeared by slow degrees. He held his breath as she screamed, unleashing the most gut wrenching sound he'd ever heard as the baby's shoulders emerged. Shoulders… chest… with one last push, she forced the rest of him out, slumping forward with a barely audible whimper.
Try as he might, Severus couldn't comprehend what happened next. In the blink of an eye, Lily's suffering was gone, replaced by unfathomable joy. She beamed down at the infant, exhausted yet triumphant, her expression filled with so much love that he…
He didn't know what he was feeling, honestly. It was all too much, impossible that…
"Well, Severus, I guess we have a son."
How could that be true? Those words contradicted everything he was, everything he'd thought and felt and believed for nearly two decades. She wasn't lying, obviously, but…
He leaned forward, peering over her shoulder as she wiped the baby clean. It was then that he saw it, a tiny birthmark he instantly recognized. It was a perfect replica of his own, located in the exact same place… he felt faint, teetering on his feet as Lily's son opened his eyes.
Lily's son? His son.
It wasn't just the birthmark. Those thin lips, the slight hook at the end of the baby's nose? The features were a bit softer, eyes a vivid shade of green, yet still…
Still, there was no denying that this child was his.
"How?" he asked Lily. "How did you do it?"
His question was answered when she started to cry, tracing her wand over their son's features. The little face transformed, nose smaller, lips fuller. Subtle changes, but they made all the difference. The only thing left was that birthmark, which she chose to leave intact.
Again, the memory shifted. She was lying down now, cradling the baby as he suckled at her breast. Her eyes were underscored by dark circles, face pale with fatigue, but her expression… Severus had never seen anything like it. So blissful, so beautiful… it was enough to make him forget their separation, reaching out to touch her only to be met with empty air.
"Lily…" he whispered, his voice choked with anguish. "I wish…"
He never got to finish. The memory faded, her eyes drifting closed as she stroked the tiny head with the tips of her fingers…
Severus didn't know how long he stayed there, face down on his sitting room floor. Time had ceased to exist, tears soaking the carpet as he lay there weeping.
No, not just weeping. These were harsh, gut wrenching sobs, his body heaving violently as he struggled to make sense of it all. The forced separation, the unintended pregnancy, the child…
Bloody hell, the child.
He didn't know how he found the strength, but somehow, he pushed himself to his feet. He stumbled into the bathroom, his eyes so swollen he could hardly see as he stripped off his clothes. A cold shower… maybe that would jolt him back to reality? No, this was his reality now, a world where he'd conceived a son with the woman he loved.
A son he hated.
No, he didn't hate the boy. Certainly not now, but even before he'd known the truth…
"You're just like your father. Lazy, arrogant."
It was James he'd hated, a hatred so strong it had blinded him to everything else. James Potter, who'd taken everything from him, from Lily… he'd seen that reflected back at him in the boy's features, assuming it was mirrored from the inside as well.
Oh yes, that's what he'd seen. He'd seen it because he'd wanted to see it, because he hadn't bothered to look for anything else. He'd needed someone to lash out at, someone to blame… what better target than a son who was as despicable as his father?
But Potter wasn't his father. Those characteristics… the laziness, the entitlement, the cruel arrogance? The boy hadn't inherited them through genetics, nor had he been around Potter long enough to succumb to his negative influence. He'd been a victim, just like Lily and Severus, not an extension of someone with whom he'd never shared any connection. He might look like Potter, but even that was no more than an illusion. He was…
Severus had no idea who he was, honestly. All he'd ever seen was a child who obviously didn't exist. Taunting him. Bullying him. Holding him responsible for someone else's sins. He hadn't seen…
Of course he hadn't seen it. Lily had been far too clever in her deception, one she'd been forced to carry out as a result of Potter's treachery. That treachery had hurt their son, too, depriving him of his mother… his real father…
A father who'd punished him for that deprivation.
Severus shook his head, summoning fresh robes as he stepped out of the shower. He couldn't even begin to process it all. Didn't have that luxury, really. His first class would be starting in less than an hour… somehow, he'd have to pull himself together and behave as if nothing had changed.
How was he supposed to do that? It seemed impossible, and yet he didn't have a choice. Sighing, he dosed himself with a Calming Draught, applying a bit of ointment to reduce the puffiness around his eyes.
Yes, that would do. Just one more thing…
He stared at himself in the mirror, drawing upon everything he'd ever learned about Occlumency. One by one, he erected his shields, stashing memories behind them like carefully guarded treasures. He watched his expression change as those memories faded into a distant echo, twisted features smoothing into an emotionless mask.
Five minutes later, he exited his quarters, not so much as a hair out of place as he strode down the hall.
