Of all the places Harry Potter expected to run into Severus Snape during the summer on his birthday trip, Honeydukes was last on the list. However, shockingly, while he and his mother were looking at chewy candies that caused you to make various different animal noises depending on the flavor, it was the Professor who walked through the door.

Harry's head turned automatically to see who had walked in, and was shocked to see the professor. He started to lift his hand to say hello, but then remembered himself and turned back around.

"Fancy seeing you here," called the store owner cheerfully. Harry was thinking the same thing, pretending to be interested in another candy nearby as he inched closer to them. "What brings the surely Hogwarts Potions Professor into the candy store today, hm?"

"The Headmaster has been… hinting… about his approaching birthday," sneered the professor, already regretting his decision to enter the shop.

"It'll be Droobles for him, then," laughed the old shopkeeper.

"Actually," Harry was surprised to hear his mother's voice, "I believe the good Headmaster prefers Sherbet Lemon."

Harry, who had assumed his mother would be keeping her head down this visit, was shocked to see her walk right up to the counter where Severus Snape stood and extend her hand, which the professor immediately took- out of politeness, of course.

"I'm Belinda Baker," she introduced. "This is my son, Evan. Evan, do come here."

Harry was by her side in seconds, practically jumping with excitement, grinning at his neighbor from ear to ear. "Hello, sir," he said, suppressing giggles.

"So you're the Hogwarts potions professor?" she asked. "Your voice sounds familiar; have you been teaching there long?"

"Ten years now today," the professor answered. "I seem to recall an apothecary mentioning your name in Diagon the other day. Would you happen to be Madam Baker, the Potions Mistress?"

"Ah, yes. Dobs, the idiot- can't shut up…" muttered the now somewhat irate woman.

"I must agree," the potions master replied, seeming to be remembering his own interactions with the man. "He mentioned that you happened to be registered in Cokeworth, and I had been considering how to contact you, as I have a few dead projects I've been looking for new insight on."

"Is that so?" Lily asked curiously. "Are you also in Cokeworth, then?"

The professor was about to answer when another family entered the shop, and Harry watched in confusion as a hush fell over them. It was a mother and two children, and they stared the professor down so hatefully that Harry found himself shuddering.

"Serving Death Eaters now, Fraser?" the woman growled.

"Come off it, Babs," the old shopkeeper said, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows Professor Snape's been acquitted. Heaven's sake- the war is long over and the man's still just under Dumbledore's nose. He's here buying a birthday present for the Headmaster."

"Probably to poison the trusting old coot," the woman retorted. "Come along, Sam, Martha- we aren't associating with this place any longer. Good thing your father's an American- you won't ever have to worry about the likes of that horrible man teaching you."

"Good riddance," the shopkeeper grumbled as the woman left. He then viewed the Madam's face, and saw that she looked troubled.

"Oh, not you too! Does this man look like a Death Eater to you, woman? A man in a candy shop buying a gift for an elderly wizard?"

Whatever Harry was hoping for, his mother's words dashed it. "Even Death Eaters enjoy sweets," she said harshly.

"Mum-"

"I should have expected as much," the Professor said gripping the counter. He addressed the shopkeeper as he added, "and don't you go trying to defend my actions."

"You're as much Death Eater as I am!" Fraser cried heartily.

"And me!" Harry piped in, though he had no idea the full situation.

"Yet if either of you knew what my actions had caused, what I did before turning spy-"

"You're not bad," Harry insisted, knowing his Mother was currently giving him a confused look. "Mum, please-"

"Evan, that's enough."

The boy silenced himself, but stomped away to sit just outside the shop's entrance, leaving his mother alone and in shock.

She looked to the professor, her vision still quite blurred, for once wishing she could see without her glasses.

"You're Severus Snape, then?"

"Unfortunately," he replied through clenched teeth.

"My son- my only son, all I have- marched out of this shop defending your name."

He didn't look at her.

"My son doesn't know much of wizardkind, Master Snape. But he is generally a decent judge of character."

Severus wasn't sure he agreed, but allowed her to continue.

"I'm not sure why my son is so eager to trust you, but…"

He looked up to see the woman staring out the shop towards her son, who was kicking at rocks.

"That is my only son. I would move mountains to keep him safe, and I refuse to lose him in the process. And for all I know- he could be right."

She looked back to the man, whose sad, disbelieving eyes were lost to her in her blurry world.

"Should you prove untrustworthy, understand that I will do everything in my power to see you destroyed."

And with that, she marched to the shop's entrance. Right as she opened the door, she turned back for just a moment.

"I expect to see you for lunch at the Three Broomsticks at noon, if you still wish to have my help with those projects."

The professor nodded.

The boy, who was just barely in view, widened his eyes in shock.

The shopkeeper shot a grim look toward the doorway.

The woman shut it and left.

"Is Professor Snape really, really meeting us for lunch?"

Lily Potter sighed, wondering again if she had made the wrong decision in deciding to give the man a chance. "I don't know, Evan. And I'm curious as to why you are so keen on trusting this man," she added with a stern look in her son's direction.

Her son shot her an innocent look back. "He lives close by, doesn't he? I recognize him. I saw him walking once from the market. Hard to forget in those clothes. I'd no idea he was a wizard though, Mum!"

Lily frowned. Was Severus really still living in that awful house? She recalled that he had been only too eager to move away from it, before they'd fallen apart as friends. Was he there taking care of his mother, Eileen? Lily imagined seeing the poor, frail woman now, and wondered if she'd survived the war. Or could he be taking care of Tobias, the nastiest muggle she'd ever had the displeasure to meet next to Vernon Dursley?

And… spy?

There were so many things she seemed to have missed.

She'd known he'd been acquitted, but… Spy? And he seemed so truly torn apart with remorse, for the things he had done during the war.

Perhaps he truly had changed.

"Muuuuuuuuum," Harry called exasperatedly, "are you even listening?"

Lily snapped out of her thoughts.

"I apologize, Evan. I was lost in my own thoughts. What were you saying?"

"I was asking if you'd ever seen anything like this," Harry said, holding up what must have been a colorful quill.

"Nothing quite so brightly colored. Is it self-inking?"

"Yes, and it dictates and it's color-changing-"

Lily gently plucked the quill out of her son's fingers and gingerly placed it back on the shelf.

"Can we-"

"If you want that, it'll cover the next three of your birthdays, child."

Harry quickly decided the quill was unimportant.

They left Scrivenshaft's and continued to explore the village, Lily still walking with less than sure footing. Luckily, Lily had been able to make an 11am appointment with the magical oculist, who happened to be working out of Dervish and Banges, and so that was where they were headed now.

"Mum, when can I get my own wand?"

"Never," Lily answered automatically. "You're not allowed to grow up."

"Muuuuum," Harry whined.

Lily laughed as she lead her son toward their next destination. "You'll get a wand when you reach first year, silly boy. I thought I'd already told you that."

"Yes, but with Vold- I mean, You-Know-Who..."

Harry instantly regretted bringing up the subject, as he watched his mother's smile vanish. Neither spoke again the rest of the walk down the street, and as a result, Harry felt like it was an eternity before they reached the shop where the oculist waited to see them.

As they entered, the shopkeeper glanced over, looked at the time, and called out, "Gregor!"

At once, a man appeared from the back of the store. He wore a kind smile, and a pair of glasses himself. He thanked the shopkeeper before approaching them.

"Ah, Madam, you must be here for the appointment," the oculist said, adjusting his own spectacles. But he frowned as he stared into her eyes.

"Most peculiar," he murmured.

Harry gave him a confused look. "What is?"

The man looked to Harry, into his eyes, and furrowed his eyebrows. "Interesting. Madam, you said you needed eyeglasses for an adult witch?"

"Myself, yes," Lily answered uneasily.

He shook his head. "This boy here, he is your child?"

"He is my son."

"That explains quite a bit. Madam, I have magically enhanced my eyeglasses to allow me to see into a person's cornea. It makes for a quicker diagnosis, you understand. Your vision should be fine; your son, however, is the one who should need glasses."

Lily stiffened.

"It's nothing to really worry about. Often, protective magical mothers will take over the hardships of their children- it is very rare but not unheard of. For now, you will be the one who needs glasses, but eventually your son will probably receive his vision back, depending on how this is handled."

"I was aware of this matter," she seethed. "I was hoping to spare my son this worry until he grew a bit older, and likely could have, had my privacy not been immediately invaded as I entered the shop."

"With all due respect, Madam, usually both mother and child normalize once the child has been weened. I would have thought you would have told him by now, but I was wrong, and I apologize for that. Now, come and look- I have plenty of styles to choose from…"

Lily hesitated, but grudgingly made her way off with the oculist to the back of Dervish and Banges, where he apparently had a few styles on display, leaving Harry to trail behind them, pondering the implications of this new information.

His mother's vision was supposed to be his, and eventually his eyes would be bad as well. This certainly created new meaning to the answer his mother had given for why she had glasses currently, but not in any old photographs. "Your vision will likely also deteriorate as you grow older," she had said. He had expected this to be a slow deterioration, but for her it must have been sudden, and he found himself feeling guilty.

Although…

There were also photographs with his mother, his father, and himself. And she hadn't worn glasses then, either. There was even a photo of them earlier that awful Halloween night, all wearing Halloween costumes- a muggle tradition, and his mother's idea to celebrate as they hadn't been able to leave home.

And he knew he'd been weened by then.

Perhaps it had something to do with the experience of watching her husband die, in which case Harry didn't want to think much about it. But it was very strange, based on the information the oculist had given.

He rubbed his forehead absently, not realizing or noticing when his mother did the very same.