Disclaimer: Does anyone ever read these things? If so, the characters herein and their hoggy, warty world do not belong to me in any sense other than the books I bought.

ooOOoo

Chapter 33: Lily's Eyes

"Good news, Mr Lupin," Albus said kindly. "Severus is not infected."

Remus breathed a shaky sigh of relief as he carefully closed the book on a bookmark and laid it in his lap. "Thank Merlin…" He smoothed at the white sheets with hands that shook as much as his voice. Harry wasn't used to seeing him this soon after transformations: it made him want to drag Severus down to the Potions laboratory and have him invent the Wolfsbane potion twenty years ahead of schedule. Who did invent the Wolfsbane? Maybe Harry could slip him a note, a hint… He squashed that impulse firmly. He wasn't here to destroy the fabric of space and time. Just his illusions.

"However, he is aware of your unfortunate condition," Dumbledore was saying. "But should he keep the secret, you –"

"I'm not keeping the secret of that thing." Severus stood pale-faced, arms crossed, trembling slightly with rage.

Even Dumbledore looked taken aback by the amount of loathing loaded in the short sentence. "Mr Snape…" he began sternly.

"Are you going to expel me? If you do, I'll write to all the papers and the parents to explain why you did!" He pointed a shaking finger at Remus. "It's a monster – an accident waiting to happen! It should never have been allowed here in the first place!" he shrieked.

"Oh, shut it, Snivellus!" James growled, eyes flitting to his friend's pale face and suspiciously moist eyes.

"You shut it, James," Harry snapped. "You're not helping anything."

"Hey – if you're my son you do as you're bloody well told and keep your nose out of this!"

Harry swore. "I didn't choose you as my father…"

"No – but you can do as you're told anyway!"

"Want to find out how fast I can invent a spell out of the word 'patricide'?"

"Cut it out," Lily interrupted, grabbing Harry's arm as he drew his wand. "No fighting – the Infirmary is where people go after they've been fighting."

"Not when they're so good at patching themselves up from arseholes pushing them down the stairs," Severus put in, smiling coldly as Lily frowned.

"That – James said it was an accident." Lily's mouth dropped open as she gazed, hurt, at James, who flinched.

"Funny," said Harry, "when I talked to Sirius he implied it wasn't that much of an accident. You'd be surprised how accidents can happen on purpose."

White as her namesake, Lily rounded on James. "You –"

Dumbledore, looking every year of his age, waved them to silence. "Enough," he said. "We are here to patch up the effects of one near-tragedy. Let us focus on one thing at a time. And anything else can be dealt with later – but Severus, you should have told me."

Severus scowled down at his shoes. "What? With four witnesses saying it was me who tripped?"

"Three," Remus said tiredly. His voice was still hoarse from his transformation, but not quite as bad as it would be in years to come. "I was there, Headmaster. And I should have reported it. But I thought Severus was unhurt…"

For a brief second a halo of dark energy flickered around Dumbledore. "Yes," the headmaster said mildly. "You should have. And I believe your prefect badge is forfeit for such a misjudgement."

Severus smirked. "He can keep it. It's not like it'll carry much weight out of Hogwarts. Maybe he can sell it or something."

"Ah, yes… as to that, Mr Snape… I now understand your animosity towards Remus, but I must ask again that you keep silence on this. I assure you, things will be different between you and your classmates…"

"No." The clenched jaw as he faced down the headmaster reminded Harry for a second of Millicent Bulstrode when she'd confronted Dumbledore in front of most of the school. "With respect, Headmaster, I have no faith in you or your decisions, let alone your assurances. You've allowed them to make my life hell for the better part of six years. I hardly see that you will change things now – but that's all right, because now that I know just how far they'll go to hurt me I'll be more cautious. I want that" – another vicious stab of the finger towards Remus, who flinched as if Severus had poked him in the eye – "gone. I want him gone by Monday or I'll tell everyone what he is. Oh, and I want Black gone, too."

As if on cue, that was the moment Sirius walked in. "Oh, God… what's Snivellus doing here?" His nose looked a little lumpier than normal – Harry must have broken it last night, because it looked like it had been recently healed. Then Sirius caught sight of the headmaster, who was standing to the side of the door. "Oops, sorry, Headmaster…"

Dumbledore frowned. "I believe you should apologise to Mr Snape."

"Sorry, Snape." Sirius smiled disingenuously and shrugged. "You wanted me here, sir?"

"Yes. I believe you can shed some light on last night's activities."

"Oh, that. Well, Sni – Snape wanted to find out some information, so I sent him to get it from Remus."

There was that dark, crackling aura around the headmaster again, transforming him from a slightly daffy old man to something distant and dangerous. Here then gone again in the blink of an eye, but it left no good-natured twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes.

Even Sirius took note – possibly this was the first time he'd really taken in the fact that this was the wizard who had defeated Grindelwald, and became abruptly serious. "Uh – he'd been sneaking around after us for months, trying to find out about Remus."

"So you decided to 'inform' him."

"Uh – yes. In a sense. I thought that once he'd had a good fright he'd leave Remus alone."

"So you did it for Remus' good."

"Um. Yeah."

"Not worrying, of course, about the consequences if Mr Lupin should kill Mr Snape."

Sirius shrugged. "He didn't die."

"Luckily for me," said Remus, looking at Sirius as if he was going to be sick. James handed him a bowl just in case and Remus took it in trembling fingers, resting it on the book. "Severus… I'm very, very sorry. If I'd harmed you or – Merlin forbid! – killed you, I'd never be able to live with that."

Severus wouldn't look at the other boy. "I don't care if you live or not. Just so long as it's nowhere near me or Hogwarts. Or humans. You can die in a ditch if you like – let me know when and I'll come and kick dirt on your corpse."

Even Harry thought that was a bit much. Sirius bared his teeth and James growled. Lily put a hand on James' arm and skewered Sirius with a glare that kept the peace. For now.

Apparently oblivious to the threat of physical assault, Severus repeated, "I want the werewolf and his boyfriend out of Hogwarts by Monday."

Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "You demand a lot, Mr Snape. And if I do not acquiesce?"

Severus' face was bleak. "Then I'll go to the papers and the Governors. I'll have you removed from your position. Sir."

White eyebrows rose in astonishment. A slight frown creasing between his eyes as if he was annoyed with himself for doing so, he turned to Harry, who shrugged and said, "I hope you're good with an Obliviate, Professor." At the slight nod, Harry continued, "Then I'm sorry, Severus. Remus doesn't get expelled – neither does Black. But you'll like this bit: Remus teaches for one year at Hogwarts, is very happy doing so – and is the best DADA teacher we've had – until you expose him as a werewolf and he's fired. Sirius goes to Azkaban for twelve years for involvement in the murder of James and Lily Potter, even though he was innocent. I expect everyone thought that as he'd already proven himself capable of murder no-one thought he couldn't be guilty."

Sirius yelped. "What? Murder?"

"What do you mean, 'murder'?" Lily said softly, her freckles standing out stark against her white face.

"Voldemort kills you when he tries to kill me –"

"Hang on, hang on…" Sirius huffed. "Who the hell is this person? James? Why are we listening to him?"

"Shut up, Sirius. What do you mean, Lo- Ha- Whoever the hell you are? Sirius sends him to us?" James interrupted, disbelieving. "No."

"Sirius wouldn't help Voldemort with anything – he hates Dark Wizards!" Lily exclaimed, crossing her arms and then uncrossing them self-consciously when she realised she was mirroring Severus, who glared at her as if he thought she was mocking him.

"That's right!" Sirius said.

"This is the same Sirius who got annoyed with one of his best friends and then sent the one person he hates most to make trouble? Who could have been the cause of this friend's death when the authorities have him put down for being a dangerous animal?"

Remus made an animal sound of hurt and Harry winced. "Sorry, Remus."

The boy in the bed rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "You're only speaking the truth," he whispered.

Sirius was sweating. "But Sniv- Snape is fine! Remus wouldn't have –"

"Stop telling me what I 'wouldn't have'," Remus broke in harshly. "The point is that I was fully capable of 'would have' and a werewolf is definitely in the realm of 'would have' when it comes to killing and eating someone…" He shuddered and clutched at the bowl.

Sirius looked like he wanted to cry, but Harry couldn't find much pity for him. It had been too long a week for that, and he'd learned too much about the people he loved – he'd learned not to love them for starters.

There was something awful about the pleasure he took in twisting the knife a little more. "It's funny how easy it is for people to believe someone is a murderer when he's already proven himself of acting on such malice," he mused. "I wonder if people said, 'Oh, maybe James beat him at Exploding Snap once too often, so Black thought he'd tell Voldemort where the Potters were hiding to get even'? Some people might argue that Sirius was James' best friend, but it's easy to think the worst when you've seen what they're capable of doing to their friends, right, Remus?"

Remus made another of those animal noises and covered his face. Sirius clenched his fists – and how long would it take him to steal another wand to hex Severus with? – Best not to think of that. "He wouldn't think anything of it, sending Voldemort to the house of James, Lily and Harry, Sirius' one-year-old godson…"

Sirius shook his handsome head, dark hair flying. "My…? No! He's deranged. Stop listening to him! I wouldn't do that!"

"No, he wouldn't – but people think that because he was set up. You – you die defending me," Harry said in Lily's general direction without actually looking at her, then had to swallow against the lump in his throat. "I just don't understand how you can… can save me and then turn out to be so horrible…"

"But you don't even know me!" Lily cried, throwing up her hands. She sounded as if she was about to burst into tears, too. Harry knew exactly how she felt.

"I know you married him," he said, inclining his head towards James and unable to stop a sneer of disgust twisting his mouth. "What more do I need to know?"

"So I really am your mum?"

When Dumbledore nodded, Harry looked up in time to see Lily bite her lip. It was frighteningly reminiscent of Hermione. Harry suddenly missed his friends fiercely – he wanted to see Hermione and Ron… Luna especially. He even wanted to see Draco. Something was seriously wrong with him for that.

Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I think if I speak to Severus and Lupin for a time… Sirius, take yourself to Professor McGonagall." He flicked his wand, and there was a thrum in the air that zeroed in on Sirius – a compulsion spell, Harry suspected, probably something to stop Sirius from telling anyone anything he shouldn't. "There will be no Hogsmeade for any of you, I am afraid. Was Mr Pettigrew involved in any way? No? Well, that's a mercy…

"Harry. I know this is probably the last thing you wish, but I would like you to talk to James and Lily for a time." When Harry twitched, he added, "There are things needed to be said between the three of you. Lily, take them into the room Harry and Severus were in last night. You know the one, I think."

Harry tried to protest, but Lily's grip on his arm was like iron as she dragged him and James away. She shoved Harry inside. Over James' shoulder he caught a glimpse of a glowering Severus whispering something to Dumbledore, then Lily slammed the door in James' face before he could follow.

Harry heard a muffled "Hey!" from James as the door slammed, but Lily ignored it. She took out her wand and locked the door. "Right," she said, her jaw firm. "Look at me."

Harry hesitated for a second – and in that second she grabbed his chin. He tried to twist free, but she dug her fingernails in until his eyes watered and forced his head around so that he had no choice but to look at her.

"Right," she said, green eyes blazing, "let's be sure on one thing: I'm not James Potter. I'm Lily Evans. And whatever you think of James, I'm not so awful that you should feel so appalled by the sight of me that you run away… unless you meant that 'Mudblood' comment earlier?"

Something in Harry's expression – the flinch at the word – must have satisfied her, because her grip became gentle.

"No," he said. "I needed you to go away."

"Good. Because I won't have my son ashamed of me." Her voice trembled on the word 'son'.

"I'm not – I wasn't anyway. Not until I came here and… and…" He swallowed.

Her fingers tightened again, becoming almost painful. "No – don't you look away from me. Until you came here and met James, right?"

"Right." He couldn't nod. "I don't care about you being Muggle-born. One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she'd kill me if she thought I'd ever said… you-know-what."

The fierce line between Lily's brows smoothed. She released his chin (wincing apologetically at the red crescents her nails had left), sat down on the bed – Harry's bed from last night – and patted it next to her.

Harry sat gingerly, dreading whatever question came next. Would it be something along the lines of: What do I do to stay alive?

Lily twisted one corner of her mouth up. It wasn't a smile. It wasn't a frown. Harry only knew it meant she had no idea how to manage the situation but was about to give it her best shot because he did exactly the same thing with Ron some days. "What's she like, this Muggle-born friend of yours?"

Harry, taken aback, opened his mouth to ask why she wanted to know then smiled ruefully. Lily was trying. He had to admit that. So maybe he should show some Gryffindor courage and try, too. "She's just the best. She's going out with my other best friend Ron, who's a Pureblood although he never goes on about that sort of thing. And she's the smartest student of our year – maybe even in the entire school. She's got bushy brown hair and she used to be a bit sensitive about her teeth until the nastiest teacher in the school said something, ahh – something typical of him. Then she got them fixed and she's really quite pretty when she wants to be… although it's odd thinking of her like that. She's always been Hermione."

"Sounds like a sister."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so, although I'd never be brave enough to tell her that."

Lily raised a hand and, after a moment's hesitation when Harry didn't flinch, stroked his hair, threading it through her fingers. Harry wondered if she was trying to establish his reality – or comparing the texture to James' hair. "Maybe you should. If she's half as smart as you say she is, she won't get all feminine and huffy because you don't think she's a sex siren."

Harry nodded carefully, not wanting her to take her hand away. There was something hauntingly familiar about it. "I guess."

She chuckled. "So what are your other friends like? Ron – do I know his parents?"

"He's a Weasley. Red hair. Brighter than yours. And freckles. More than yours. And his family's pretty cool… his mum always sends me a hand-knitted jersey at Christmas. I wonder what she'll think now that he's going out with Hermione?"

"Is this Molly… it'd be Molly Weasley, now. I remember her vaguely. Older student who got married straight out of school. All right sort. They haven't told her?"

"No – well, post is hard to get through because Voldemort's blockaded Hogwarts."

"So Voldemort is still going strong in your time?"

"Yes… but he had a huge setback thanks…" he paused, then realised that as Dumbledore was going to do a mass Obliviate it didn't matter. "Thanks to you, really."

Lily laughed, obviously not believing.

Harry shrugged. "Honest."

"What do I do? Argue him into submission?"

"Do that a lot, do you?"

The corners of Lily's eyes crinkled as her grin grew huge. "There might be a, um, small reputation I've amassed."

"Did you really change James into a pincushion?"

Lily smirked. "Do you think I should have changed him into something else?"

"No. Just somewhere else."

"Oh." For a second something else passed behind her eyes, and Harry knew she was carefully changing the subject when she said, "So do I turn Voldemort into a pincushion?"

Harry managed a smile. "I wish. But no."

"And he kills me in the process."

Harry looked down. "Yes. You die even though he gives you the chance to run. And when he kills you, somehow that protects me."

"Oh. And James?" she said in a quiet voice.

"He…" Harry frowned at the floor. For some reason his shoulders ached. And his jaw. It felt like every muscle in his body was pulled too tight. "He dies. Trying to stop Voldemort from coming into the house. Trying to give us time."

There was a lengthy pause. "That's hard. You knowing two different versions of him, I mean."

Harry looked up again. Lily was pale, very pale. But focusing on Harry now as if that would stop the future nightmare. Harry didn't ask How do you mean? He said, "Yes. The one I thought was – the one who was a hero… and the one who is a thug."

Lily nodded. "The two aren't irreconcilable."

Harry scowled down again. House elves had left a small dust bunny – it was currently the most offensive thing on the planet. Apart from James Potter. "I'd like to know how they aren't."

Lily wisely didn't argue that one further. "So. Voldie. Does he die?"

"Sort of. He manages to come back years later."

"Oh, right. Sorry. You said he's got Hogwarts under siege in your time. Is that why you're here?"

Harry shivered as he remembered that no matter how hard this trip had been, things would only get worse when he returned to his time. "Yes." He didn't resist as she pulled his head down to rest on her shoulder. That, too, felt natural, as natural as having her stroke his hair. Luckily she kept doing that. It was very soothing and made the future a long time away instead of only a few hours before he would leap-frog over the deaths of his parents. And not do anything to stop it. He threaded his fingers through each other and clenched them until the knuckles showed up yellow-white. "I needed to find something to break the barrier he's got keeping Hogwarts separated from the rest of the world."

"And did you?"

"Yes. Severus helped me." His hands relaxed until he remembered Severus' future, too.

His head rose and fell with her sigh. "Is that true what he was saying about James and Sirius and…? Well, I guess I sort of knew about poor Remus. Dear me – to think everyone says I'm the only one in Gryffindor who turns into a destructive monster once a month."

"Huh?"

The breath of her soft laughter ruffled his fringe. "It's a girl thing. Never mind. But… it's true?"

"Yeah." Harry stiffened, nearly sitting up and away again until the brush of her fingers lulled him again. "Yeah. The first time I met them, Sirius took offence to me and called me Squit, just because I was with Severus. Then he got James – James tried to hex me. I bounced it back, of course. I know you won't believe me, but…"

Her fingers tightened for a millisecond, but not enough to hurt, only enough to make him stop talking. "Remus said you'd used Protego. That's not bad."

"Well, it's saved my life before… last time I saw the Death Eaters…" Which reminded him of the time he'd seen the spell-shadows of James and Lily, and how they'd protected him…

The fingers tightened in his hair for longer this time. "They… they tried to kill you?"

"No – I think Voldemort wants me saved so he can deal with me personally."

Fingers still not moving, Lily asked, "Why, Harry?"

"Because… because I'm the Boy Who Lived," Harry said bitterly. "I survived the Killing Curse because Voldemort killed you and your love protected me. I just… I… You should never have…" That band around his throat that had been threatening to cut off air for what seemed like half the morning finally tightened. He pressed a hand over his mouth.

Lily's arms wrapped around him before he could pull away, rocking him gently as his tears soaked into the shoulder of her robes, her hands rubbing his shoulders as they shook with sobs.

She handed him a handkerchief when he finally sat up, embarrassed and wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands.

"Thanks," he said with a slightly hoarse voice. "I really should get some of those for myself."

"You can keep it."

"Ta." He stuffed it into his pocket after giving his nose a quick wipe. "Hopefully I'm done needing hankies for the next fifty years. Statistically, I should be."

Lily laid her palm against his cheek. Harry leaned into it, closing his eyes and shivering, wishing that when he got home he'd find his mother there, ready to give him another hug,

It wasn't going to happen, of course, but for the moment it was a good dream.

"I still don't understand how you could marry him," he muttered, reluctantly opening his eyes again.

Lily twitched one corner of her mouth down. "There's something appealing about him. Honestly, Harry. He's got his good points. He's smart. And when he remembers to be, he can be kind. And generous – oh, and he's very brave. And… there's just something about him. I don't quite know what it is… But it's spoilt, yes, by that strutting need to have the world as he likes it. He's a bit of a brat, but I think that when he grows up and grows out of it he'll make a fairly decent man."

"And if he doesn't grow out of it?"

"Then the only way I'll touch him will be with a hex and you'll never be born. So I guess he does grow up." She smiled.

After a moment Harry smiled, too.

Lily brushed his fringe back, smiling like it amused her. "I like how you've treated Severus," she said. "He's someone who's always needed a friend – it's just tricky the way he drives people away like he does. I can't say that I like him personally, but I don't like anyone being bullied, even Muggle-hating Slytherins like him. What?"

Harry was trying not to chuckle. "He doesn't hate Muggles. Thinks they're pretty cool, actually." He sobered. "Merlin – never tell anyone I said that; the other Slytherins would rip him to pieces."

Lily sighed again. "That's true. Why does life have to be so complicated? Sometimes I think we bring it on ourselves…" She brushed her hand over his hair again. "Does it ever stay tidy?"

"You've got to be joking."

"Ah. James has a lot to answer for."

"Too right."

Another sigh. Lily took his hands. "Shall we call him in now?"

"Can't I just stay here with you?"

"Dumbledore said not. And I didn't get the impression that we were going to be allowed that much time to talk, anyway." She squeezed his hands. "I'm sorry. There's so much I want to learn about you. And from you."

"I… Me too. But I think I learned the important thing… I still love you."

Lily bit her lip. "I love you too. Harry. Harry Potter." She shook her head. "It's crazy – here I am, sitting here with a boy my own age… and it's so easy to believe you're my son."

She'd been talking to him like she believed he was who he claimed to be. Part of Harry had been wondering about that. "How?"

"Just… the way you look at the world. It's something about your eyes. You got – will get them from me. And no-one else in the family has eyes like mine. The way you bite your lip when you're not sure what to say. Your chin. But always and especially your eyes. I knew when I saw them who you were, I guess. I just… knew that it was impossible."

"You can't know just from looking at someone's eyes they're your son from the future," Harry argued, trying not to smile.

"Can too. If you're a witch."

"Oooo – maaagic."

"It's real, you know." She rounded her own eyes mysteriously as Harry dragged himself back from the memory of a conversation on a hill twenty or so years in the future, then turned serious again. "I… I just knew. I think James does, too, although he's not clued in to intuitive magic as strongly as I am. I've got this knack of knowing things about people just by looking into their eyes. Honest to God – but don't tell anyone because it's not regular magic as far as I know, and I don't want to stand out as any more of an oddball – that crazy Muggle-born student who thinks she can read your soul by looking into your eyes." She snorted cynically.

"They were what made Severus decide who I was… and now he hates me."

Lily's glum look must have mirrored his. "Yes. Mr Logic – he's pretty intuitive himself, and logic doesn't stand a chance when he's in one of his tempers. And right now he's pretty pissed off even by his volcanic standards."

"I don't blame him."

"Don't worry. Something will sort itself out… And is he really going to be the nastiest teacher in the school?"

"You… you were listening around the corner?"

"No, I guessed from what you said about your friend's teeth…. Oh, okay. Yes. I was listening. There – you've found out your old mum's a terrible snoop."

Harry grinned and leaned into her hug.

Like walking into the Great Hall on the first day back at school, it was like coming home.

ooOOoo

James shuffled through the door, looking like he was expecting to be hexed. He cast a guarded look at Lily.

"Well?"

Lily, face coolly impassive, said, "Harry and I have come to an agreement."

"Oh?"

"You're the biggest prat in the world, James Potter."

"Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I already knew that. Um. Can I come in, then?"

"Only if you're going to show you've got better manners than the ones you were born with."

"Uh, I'll try."

"Good. Because this is our son. He's from the future. He's not told me one lie as far as I can spot it, and … and if you do one more thing to upset him you'll wish you were answering to the headmaster instead of me."

"So he's really…?" James trailed off, frowning. "How can you be so sure?"

"You mean apart from the whole 'Professor Dumbledore says he is' thing? He's got my eyes and your hair. Hopefully not your sense of fair-play."

"Definitely not," Harry said. James was here because Dumbledore said so. It didn't mean Harry had to like it.

"And I know." Lily said.

James stood very still, watching Lily. Then he nodded (still a little doubtful) and met Harry's cold stare levelly and not without curiosity. "So," he said. "I'm dead, am I?"

Harry bit his lip. And James' face suddenly crumpled as he looked at Lily. Harry, glancing sideways, saw that she had her lip caught in her teeth, too.

"And Lily – she's dead, too?"

It was like one of those Muggle 3D pictures. Harry had tilted James and suddenly seen him change into someone completely unexpected.

"Yes."

James glared at him. "Then do something to change that."

"I can't."

"Can't, or won't?" James drew himself up to his full height, hands on hips, and glared down at Harry.

"James!"

"Both," Harry admitted. "But if I could – or were allowed, then I would. Even you – you're an arrogant, bullying git, but I know so many people like that and most of them I wouldn't want dead."

"Huh. That wasn't the impression I got from you earlier."

"It's true," Harry said simply, thinking back to that night in the forest with Draco. And realised Lily was right: people could change. Draco could, of course, change back, but in the meantime Harry would hope for a miracle. "I'm not like you."

"So you've got lots of Slytherin friends, do you?"

Ouch. James had a point. He was a mean, arrogant bully, but it didn't necessarily follow that he was stupid. It was like dealing with…

"What?" James said as Harry's scrutiny went on too long.

"I was just thinking how much you're like Lucius Malfoy. Except he's more discreet in his sadism."

James' nostrils flared. "So he's your Slytherin friend, is he?"

"James! Back to the topic… James, you were asking if Harry had many Slytherins as friends…?"

Harry gave way. "I'm learning to. And they aren't precisely friends – not like I've got with two Gryffindors, anyway, since I haven't exactly gone out of my way to make friends with any of them before this year, and, um, they kind of hated me since some of them have Death Eater parents who blame me for Voldemort temporarily snuffing it." What had he been saying, again? Oh yes. "But yeah. I've got some Slytherin friends. One of them is Lucius Malfoy's son and I don't know how the hell I'm going to save him from his father when Malfoy senior gets through the barrier…" I just don't know how long I'll have any of them for. Hopefully longer than I had Severus as a friend. "More Slytherin friends than Hufflepuff, for that matter." Which made him wonder about Houses – what was the point of dividing up students into automatic cliques as soon as they walked into the castle? Divide and conquer? Who had told him that? Trudi, vague memory supplied. But why would the Founders want to divide the wizarding world? To stop anyone getting too large a power base? Ah – now he was thinking like a Slytherin. Draco would be proud. In a sneering, supercilious way, of course.

"I suppose you're even best buddies with Sni- Snape."

Harry blinked and lifted one corner of his mouth. It wasn't a smile. "Thanks to you he did everything he could to make my life at Hogwarts a living hell. Or get me expelled."

James' face twitched between outrage and a grin.

"…and if you try telling me that you'll go and beat him up for me, no thanks. That kind of started the whole thing."

"How do you know how the whole thing started?" James snapped. "What puts you automatically on his side?"

"So did he do something to you, or did he just look funny?"

James scowled down at his feet. "Yeah. Well. We were just first years."

"And now you're sixth years and he and Remus nearly died. And you still can't admit that you might just have done something wrong."

His knuckles were turning white again, and he consciously forced himself to relax his hands. That was what really bothered Harry: the fact that his father was incapable of learning from his mistakes. It terrified Harry to think that there were mistakes he, Harry, had made and been too arrogant – just like Snape said – to learn from. He didn't want to be like James. He didn't want to turn people into Death Eaters. "I think we've pretty much finished our father-son talk. God!" he exclaimed. "I can't believe I always wanted to… to talk to you. To do stuff with you. And all I've done is practise self-defence against you and this talk has only shown that not only are you incredibly immature, you probably never would have grown up even if you'd lived to Dumbledore's age!"

"Harry…" Lily murmured from the side.

"No. He needs to hear this. He needs to know that what he does has real impact on the outside world. On people's lives. That because of him people might make really, really dumb decisions because they don't feel like they have any other options. He's going to go on wrecking people's lives and, and, and, you know what? You know what, James Potter? I'm GLAD you die! I'm GLAD you're dead in my time, because being raised by people who hate me is still better than being raised by YOU!"

The only sound in the room was Harry's harsh breathing.

James was white. "You – you're terrified you might have been like me." He looked at Lily for guidance, but her face was drawn and immobile.

Harry took a deep breath that rattled his ribcage and let it out again. "I'm terrified I am like you," he whispered. "I'm terrified that if I hadn't had the crap kicked out of me while I was growing up – with my parents murdered and… and the only thing I can remember about them is my mother's screams" (James flinched) "whenever Dementors come near me – if all of that doesn't happen then I'll be Voldemort's biggest de facto recruiter… just like you."

James looked like Harry had slapped him. "Lily…? What do you mean – I'm going to work for Voldemort?"

"No. But there is a war coming. And it will come again. And in it there will be two sides. And because of you – and people like you – those who would have chosen our side will choose the other because they're sick of having the so-called good guys tell them how worthless they are… and Voldemort may be many things, but he's not completely stupid and I bet he knows how to take people in and give them the, the, um…"

"Validation," said Lily, whose eyes suddenly looked older… almost as old as Harry's eyes when he saw them in the mirror after Cedric's death.

"Yeah. Validation. I bet Voldemort knows when to use it. Like he knows how to get people killing each other." Harry took another deep breath and rubbed his hands on the knees of his robes. His palms were wet. Outside the window it was a beautiful day. Everybody was probably at Hogsmeade by now. Hopefully Rosier would remember to get Severus some chocolate frogs.

What if those chocolate frogs were the reason Severus became a Death Eater? Harry felt ill and told himself to stop second-guessing himself before he made himself sick. Or ended up in St Mungo's or something.

"Snape becomes a Death Eater?" James asked. "I always pegged him as one, you know."

"Well, that just goes to show how stupid you are," Harry said mildly. "Because he was planning to get the hell out of this country and go somewhere where he can, I don't know… just be without being hassled."

"And you'd know this how?"

"He told me. And he likes Muggles."

"Holy shit. He likes Muggles?"

"Well, not indiscriminately. But he thinks they have a lot to offer the world. And shouldn't be treated like animals."

James looked angry. Then he sat down on the other bed. He moved slowly, as if he had just had his hundredth birthday. "How many others did I fuck up?"

Lily blinked at the swearing. Harry had heard worse from Severus, though. "I don't know. Maybe you should take a survey. Maybe if you'd not demonstrated to so many people how bloody you are, you…" He couldn't finish that. Even as much as Harry hated James, he wouldn't tell him you were responsible for that whole 'defying the Dark Lord three times' rubbish, and that was why you and Lily die. Lily dies because she marries you.

"Lily… you… they kill you because of me?"

Harry closed his eyes. That was raw. And he hadn't thought James could hurt him again – certainly not through empathy.

Lily said in a sensible voice that only cracked a little, "If those Death Eaters are as fanatical as the newspaper said last week, then I think they'll happily kill me just for existing. And it sounds like they kill us to get to Harry. Those Purebloods – the Nazi variety – they wouldn't think twice about knocking off a Mudblood and her Half-blood spawn."

James squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't say that."

"And if you think I want you to die for me, then that just shows how little clue you have about me," Harry said, but it didn't come out as harshly as he'd intended. James already looked razed hollow. Lily, raw pain etching lines around her eyes, stood next to James and laid a hand on his shoulder tentatively, as if not sure about its welcome.

After a moment, James covered it with his own.

He loves her, Harry thought. He'd seen evidence of it all along, but it had seemed more possessive than anything else. Not like love – or not like love as he knew it from Ron and Hermione. But now he had to admit that James really did seem to love Lily.

He still had that gut-deep anger, but now it was cooled by this: his parents had loved each other. That much was true.

Then James rolled his head back to look up at Lily and said in an attempt at humour, "Well, I thought you were never going to marry me, anyway."

Lily didn't smile. "I wouldn't marry an arrogant, big-headed bully. It's this little thing called 'self-respect' that I have. I won't marry someone who's an emotional drop-out."

They held each other's gaze for a moment then James nodded: just a fraction. Or maybe it was the sun going behind a cloud for a moment that made his expression seem changed.

There was a pad of note paper on the bedside table. James picked it up and took a self-filling quill out of his pocket and scribbled something down.

He tore it off the pad and handed it to Harry.

"I know I'm going to be Obliviated, but do you think Dumbledore will let this one slip through?"

Harry read the note. It read:

I, James Potter, will cease and desist being an arrogant, big-headed bully. And grow up.

Lily laughed softly.

Harry looked up. He couldn't quite read his father's expression, but there was something there almost like terror.

"I guess we can ask."

The terror didn't quite disappear, but it was offset by something else. Harry thought it looked a little bit like hope.

ooOOoo

Chapter 34: Possessed Books? Ho Hum

Remus was studying his book again. It was right-way-up this time, but Harry didn't think he was really concentrating on it. Not with the floor show going on in front of him.

Arms folded across his chest, greasy hair straggling over his face, Severus was at his bristliest as he argued with Dumbledore. Harry knew that stubborn expression. Dumbledore was being remarkably patient in the face of it.

"I need to go and get it."

"Mr Snape, I simply cannot allow it. And that is absolutely the end of the matter!"

Or not.

Severus looked up and scowled at Harry, Lily and James, the scowl deepening to intense loathing when it met James. "Lovegood. Or Potter – whatever you want to call yourself. I need to see that Potions book again. You know the one. Now that I know where – when, I mean – you're from, I need to make a couple of additions."

"What, and set a trap to kill him?" James countered, stepping between Harry and Severus.

Harry rolled his eyes. "This doesn't concern you, James," Harry said. "Thank you for the thought, but now stay the hell out of it."

James couldn't have been completely stupid. He stepped out of the way as Harry walked forward. Lily put her hand on his arm and James' shoulders relaxed a fraction.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I mean that the spells I wrote down were for trans-dimensional resonance. So I added in some extras that will be the opposite of helpful when you use them in the future."

"Oh."

"Don't trust him, Harry."

Luckily Lily elbowed James in the ribs and Remus coughed meaningfully before Harry could hex his mouth off. He was impressed by James' love for Lily, but it didn't mean he suddenly liked him personally… or could forgive him for how he'd treated Severus. And you'd think he would have taken something out of that room – like, not making a complete git out of himself when he's around Severus. "I guess some things aren't worth the paper they're written on," Harry whispered to James, who looked down and sighed.

"No, Harry, don't trust me," Severus said, mimicking James to a nicety – and making a mockery of any nobility of purpose. "After all," he continued in his more normal silky sneer, "I might just as easily slip something in that will smear your sorry carcass through twelve dimensions."

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"I know I can trust him," Harry said, thinking back to the end of the whole Goblet of Fire fiasco when they confronted Fake Moody. Although the poisonous words Severus spat at him stung like, well, like poison, Harry remembered that time. "I suspect that, other than Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape was the person on staff you trusted most."

"Heartwarming," Severus sneered after the moment when his expression was far too open, "but hardly relevant. Your time is running out and the headmaster is about to Obliviate the lot of us. Badly, I expect. No-one can wipe group memories with the precision you need for this situation. Before anyone turns our brains into scrambled eggs you need me to see to those spells… and you know it."

Dumbledore raised a white eyebrow mildly in Harry's direction, not taking umbrage at the slur against his abilities.

Harry nodded. He'd wondered about the spells – at least one of those written in the book in his time had been the dry potion to fix the temporal spell. Severus hadn't written them all yet: he certainly hadn't written the dry potion. Harry had been at the point where he'd considered faking Severus' handwriting and writing the spells and potions himself. "You can write up a temporal dry-spell potion?"

"Oh? It was a dry potion? I guess it would have to be, though."

"Yes. Can you write it in the next seven hours or so before I go back?"

"Seven hours? No."

Harry guessed maybe he'd broken so many laws by now it wouldn't matter if he told Severus how to make the potion… except that, when he tried to remember, he came up short. Sweat prickled around his hairline as he realised he'd done something wrong, and now he'd mucked up things so that Severus wouldn't write the book up properly, because Harry should have told him from the beginning so that –

"It'll take me fifteen minutes," Snape said, smiling that mirthless, triangular smile.

ooOOoo

Reluctantly, Dumbledore allowed Harry and Severus to leave for the library. They replaced Harry's disguise again to the relief of everyone, including Harry. Lily's eyes had gleamed as Severus demonstrated the spell. "You'll forget it in a minute," Severus said spitefully. "The headmaster will see to that."

"Oh, that reminds me," James said. He pulled the note out of his pocket. "Can I keep this?"

Dumbledore's white eyebrows raised as he read the note. "If you can't take your own advice, who can you turn to?"

Severus, trying to read the note over James' shoulder (while pretending he didn't care), scowled as James folded it with a snap and popped it back in his pocket. "Stop being nosy, Sn-ape."

"Now would be a good time to take that note's advice," Lily said sweetly, "and stop being such an arrogant, big-headed bully."

James rolled his eyes. "Thanks." He might have said something nastier to Severus, who was smirking, but caught himself just in time. "What are you looking at, Snape?"

"I could say 'an arrogant, big-headed bully,' but I think I'll hold onto the moral high ground a little longer."

Lily laughed and led James away to sit with Remus, who had said nothing during this. The young werewolf looked even paler. Harry wondered what Dumbledore and Severus had said – actually, he could guess. It had probably run along the lines of: 'Severus, promise not to reveal Remus as a werewolf.' 'No.'

"Don't worry," Harry heard Lily say. "Everyone will have forgotten this in a few hours."

"Huh," snorted Remus. "Do you really think so?"

Severus was staring at the floor again and so missed Remus' mournful look in his direction. "Are you going to make me forget the werewolf?" he asked. He looked up and glared defiantly at Dumbledore. "Because I think I'm going to keep seeing it in nightmares." (Remus winced again, and Lily bent over to ask him about the book in an obvious attempt at distraction.) "And then I'll go and get those nightmares analysed. No Obliviate can be disguised from a trained headologist. And then the real story about it will come out."

("Oh," said Lily. "It's metamorphic. I didn't realise. Fancy that." And Remus gave her the sort of exasperatedly fond look only occasionally given to well-meaning people who try very hard against the odds and deserve more joy than they get, while James was successful in resting his hand on the small of her back without getting it batted off.)

Dumbledore sighed. Severus' threat wasn't particularly well-concealed. "No. Harry said that you will remember. As will I. But some aspects of the event will be altered." He pulled out a small fob-watch. This one had only the one hand. "Hogwarts says that Harry doesn't have that much time left. I suggest the both of you go now. I shall keep these three company until you return. And then we shall call down Mr Black and… deal with matters. Harry – you said it is remembered that James rescued Severus?"

Severus actually bared his teeth at Dumbledore. "Don't even think it!"

Harry grabbed his arm, and was shaken off. "Come on. Time's running out. Severus!"

"Don't talk to me, you… you traitor!"

Severus stalked out, his robes managing a better approximation of the billow they would get with time, tailoring and finer fabric.

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow at Harry. "Yes," Harry whispered, feeling like a traitor. "That's what is remembered."

"Of course. Why, young Mr Potter, do we create such complications? Well. There seems little point in worrying about 'what-ifs' when we have a 'what-a-to-do' on our hands. Go on." He raised his voice a fraction so that it would reach Severus, who was hovering just inside the door. "Do what needs to be done. Harry – both of you – you realise how much I am trusting you?"

"Yes. And you know both of us can be trusted."

Severus had that odd look on his face again, the one Harry had only seen briefly when he'd mentioned about how trusted he would be in the future. It was odd seeing him guardedly wistful rather than bitter. Snape had worn bitterness like knights of old wore armour; like James wore his certainty the world owed him for the grace of his existence; like Remus knew that one day he would be alone again and constantly kept himself braced for that day. Then Severus shook his head slightly and lank strands of hair fell over his face.

Harry trailed after Severus all the way to the little storeroom, where they got the book and (after Severus' threatened tantrum) the Sickle, which they kept wrapped in a cloth. Severus closed the door quietly and turned, his face set. Harry knew then that he would never return. Not in this time. And felt even guiltier as he followed Severus on to the library. But by the time they got there he was getting sick of being ignored, even if it was deserved. He hated silent treatments. He'd had them from Ron. And he'd been ashamed of himself in retrospect when he'd given them to Hermione.

Things should have lightened up a little when a book with the dust of decades on it leaped out to the end of its chain and tried to savage Harry. Severus whacked it with his copy of Temporal Dynamics for Dunderheads, which sent the book zooming at him. Harry pulled out the Sickle and slashed at the book. One touch of the gleaming blade sent the book tumbling. Harry leaned down to check the title. "Cerberus Unleashed," he read. "What's that supposed to be about?"

Severus sighed irritably and eyed the hole in the shelf left by the book. "Don't let any more of them get away," he ordered, and slunk away along another aisle.

Harry was left holding the book. Some of the other books on the shelves whispered and hissed at him, rustling their pages in their bindings. It sounded threatening, but when Harry lifted the Sickle, the books sank back. It was like watching a lion, Harry thought, and knowing that as soon as you blinked the lion would charge.

Thankfully, Severus was back quickly. Madam Pince was with him. Harry hid the Sickle in his robes before she could see it.

"…the same old problem," Severus was saying.

"Tsk. I thought we'd exorcised the last of them. Honestly, they don't have the sense to know that if they pulled out the foundations, the walls would pulp them, too. Thank you, boys. I'll take care of this now." The librarian looked around, half-closing her eyes, her lips moving soundlessly.

The Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost, glided through a shelf and passed through Harry's arm. Harry jumped at the cold, pressing against Severus, who shoved him back as if Harry was a leper.

Harry rubbed his arm where it had banged against a shelf. "What happened?"

Severus ignored him and stalked off back to their table.

"Possessed books," Pince said. "Again. They've got this thing for mischief. Old pixie spirits, or so I'm told. They tend to pull in some of the trickier monsters from mythology for help." She waved Cerberus Unbound as emphasis. "Well done stopping them – I thought they'd been dealt with and haven't been checking on them as often as I should."

Possessed books should have been a fail-safe opening for a discussion. But Severus, who was bent over several open books like a particularly literate vulture, told Harry to get back to his own research. And to kindly shut up so that Severus could concentrate on writing down the spells correctly. Harry went along with that for a while, but it was too uncomfortable to continue with.

"So…"

"I'm working."

Well. That was definite. And if that scowl got any fiercer, the little potions book was going to burst into flames – and paradox the future out of existence.

Harry managed to get a glimpse of what Severus was writing – but only a brief glimpse before Severus ran his fingers along some of the pages and sealed them shut. That was right – Hermione had needed to unseal some of them. But it would have been comforting for Harry to read them first.

That reminded him that he was going to see Hermione soon. And Ron. And Luna. That cheered him up. Oh, and Malfoy. That… didn't stop him from feeling cheered up. And it meant Severus was going to be dead. Harry, feeling like he'd just volunteered someone for a suicide mission (and hadn't he? Hadn't he effectively 'volunteered' many people by not warning them of their futures?) chewed on his lip. "Look. We need to talk. I'm sorry. It's important you know that, because –"

Severus slammed a book on the desk and snarled, "What the frigging use is 'sorry'? All apologies are are useless words! 'Sorry' means nothing. All the good 'sorry' does is to let the apologiser feel like he's actually made things better. Well, he hasn't. And if you're going to wallow in guilt, then good. Because if anyone deserves to get hell from their conscience, then it's you, you ungrateful little get of a syphilitic hound. And if by some infinitely slender chance you actually got your mother's good conscience in the genetic lottery, it sure as your father and his toadying friends deserve to go to Tartarus won't have come from that mangy, pus-ridden sack of writhing maggots which sired you!"

Harry wasn't sure what else he might have said, because Pince threw them out at that point. Even though they were the only ones in the library.

Breathing so heavily though his nose that he sounded like the Hogwarts Express with a full head of steam, Severus swept outside with Harry in his wake. Harry wasn't sure about the wisdom of going out into the open as there mightn't be any teachers or prefects to protect him from an enraged junior Snape (and, should Severus turn really nasty complete with wand, he didn't think defending himself and putting Severus back in hospital would be any more acceptable as apologies went).

Severus sat in a courtyard and scribbled in the potions book. Occasionally he would hiss a question at Harry and sneer if Harry couldn't give a precise enough answer. Harry sat on a low wall getting more and more miserable. Finally Severus snapped the book shut in one hand. "There. And don't you dare say 'sorry' again."

Harry, who'd been considering ways of rephrasing 'sorry', closed his mouth again and waited.

Severus went on, slightly more calmly (not that it reassured Harry, who'd seen Snape calm right before he erupted): "You're going and I'm going to have my memory wiped. So it doesn't matter what you say."

Harry winced. "It matters to me. And I don't want you to forget Harry Lovegood. I want you to remember that he was your friend."

Oops, here came that volcano.

"But he wasn't," Severus hissed, hunched over the book, his black eyes shooting sparks. "And he never even existed. Why, Junior Potter, is it so important for you that I should believe otherwise, hmm?"

"Because I'm tired of having lies pinned to me. All the time I've been at Hogwarts you've believed one thing or another about me. You've always believed I was some carbon-copy of my father. But you've never seen the truth. And now I'll go back and, and I won't be able to say to you, 'Hey, try and remember what happened in the past – what you did for me was really amazing and I'm really grateful and I want you to know what a good friend you were. And that I really wished I could tell you the truth but I was too scared to, because you would have crucified me.' But I can't do that…"

"…Because I'm dead…"

"Yes. Because you're dead, and even if you were still alive, you'd still hate me because, well, because you're you and you stopped needing any excuse to hate me some time in my first year."

"Why would I stop needing an excuse to hate you?"

"Because… because I'm a Gryffindor. I'm James Potter's son. And… and I'm like an allergy to you. And, truth be told, I couldn't stand you either. And if anyone had told me I'd ever incredibly and…and… and deeply regret the fact you were dead, I'd… I'd've told them to go visit the hospital wing for some dried frog pills. And… and right here and right now I've got the chance to tell you the truth."

"That you hate me and I hate you. That I can believe."

Harry buried his face in his hands and moaned in frustration. "Merlin, Severus, you're so set on the idea that hate is the easiest way out of everything… Why is it so hard for you to see that it's possible to actually have people who consider you a friend?"

After a moment's silence, Harry looked up. Severus was staring down at the book. "Because friendship is expensive. And it tends to come at a cost I would rather not pay. And because friendship is only a temporary truce between people who will one day use the weaknesses they discover about each other to find the best place to slip the knife in."

He stood.

"The headmaster is expecting us. The Sickle is an artefact of truth, Potter. You can't move it through time. The headmaster will have to deal with it – and he'll need it to make the best adjustments to our memories."

Harry looked up at him, but Severus didn't meet his eyes. "You're wrong about friendship."

Severus picked a fleck of lint off his robes. "And you're naïve. You'll find out the truth one day." He stalked off.

Harry's lips pressed together as he realised that trying to convince Severus of his sincerity was like bashing his head against a wall – the wall, in this case, being Severus' conviction that the world was incapable of holding any genuine tenderness. It was so frustrating... "At least I'm not a coward," Harry flared.

Severus' back stiffened. "At least I know what courage is," he breathed without turning to face Harry. "As opposed to mindless Gryffindor bravado."

Wisely, Harry decided not to argue.

That in itself might have been a form of courage – knowing when the battle was lost.

Knowing and dreading what was to come, Harry followed Severus back to the hospital wing and Dumbledore and memory spells and time travel and the end of any chance of making it right between himself and someone who had briefly been his friend.

This was absolutely the last time he volunteered for time travel missions.

ooOOoo