Hey everyone, thanks for all your comments and visits and such! :) Here's the next chapter. Don't know when I'm going to be updating again because there is all this RL stuff going on right now that's preventing me from writing, and anyway I'm having a bit of a time with the next chapter (Prisoner of Azkaban-related). Hopefully it will be by next weekend. In the meantime, hope you enjoy this one. Thanks for reading.

Hogwarts

September, 1991

"I'm sorry we didn't get sorted into the same house last night, Sev."

"It's all right," Severus replied, pretending to worry a thread on the sleeve of his robes as he and Lily wandered the border of the Lake after their first day's classes. The late afternoon sky was lit with a peculiar shade of gold, and it seemed to make the tips of her hair catch fire.

"I know how much it mattered to you," she went on, reaching to tug the thread from his sleeve. "But it's all right. We're still ever the best of friends, always."

"You mean it?"

However, before he could hear her answer, Severus suddenly found himself face-down in the dirt.

"What's the matter, Snivellus? Had an accident?" jeered the wavy-haired boy from yesterday's train ride. Behind him was the boy with the glasses.

"You tripped me, you nasty swine," Severus spat, getting up from the ground.

"I prefer dog, actually," the wavy-haired boy replied as he elegantly smoothed his hair back.

"You're a dog and a bastard and-and-" Severus stuttered, inarticulate with rage.

"Awww, are those tears forming in Snivelly's beady eyes?" the boy with the glasses mocked. "Tell me, Sirius, how big do you think Snivellus's handkerchief is?"

"Well, James, I'm going to guess that when he gets a cold, his mum just throws him a bedsheet to wipe his nose on."

"Great ugly git."

"Leave him alone!" shouted Lily, running up to James and shoving him to the ground.

"All right, Evans?" James said with something like surprise, standing up again and dusting the dirt off his robes.

"Blow off, you bloody bogey," Lily seethed. Something within Severus lit with a grim joy. After they'd been sorted into different houses, Severus was afraid things would change between them. He was glad to see that they were still as one, even here, even now.

"You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort, Evans," James said as he watched Lily take Severus's arm. '"I can help you there."

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," Lily replied acidly. "Sev, let's go."

"You didn't have to do that," Severus said as she led them away toward a friendly tree.

"Never mind them," she hissed into his ear, as though reading his thoughts. "They're just jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Because you're so much better than they'll ever be. At least, to me," she added, her cheeks turning rosy.

"Lily," he whispered. But then she suddenly let go of him and ran off, her red hair like a flag of victory over Hogwarts' glass-green lawn.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Severus suddenly blinked up from his reverie, looked around the Hall. The entire place had fallen silent, and even Severus himself leaned forward with anticipation as The Boy Who Lived stepped up to be sorted.

His face. Show me his face, Severus thought, clenching his fists beneath the table. But the boy's back was to Severus when he sat down on the stool.

Severus noted with interest, however, that the Sorting Hat seemed to take a long time. Severus remembered when both he and Lily had been sorted, the Hat had not hesitated at all. Now it was as though the Hat couldn't make up its mind.

Let it be Slytherin, Severus thought to himself.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted at last. Filthy rag.

The boy trotted happily to the Gryffindor table, where he was instantly surrounded by smiling students. It was only then that Severus was finally able to perceive the boy's face, and he was almost relieved by what he saw. For the boy looked so much like James Potter that it would be no trouble at all for Severus to maintain an appearance of aloofness toward him, since it could only reflect a genuine disdain that Severus already felt manifesting within.

But as the boy's gaze met Severus's own, the boy's eyes widened a little; and it was then that Severus saw-yes, yes, exactly, exactly: he had exactly her eyes. Precisely her eyes. It was as though she were gazing at him once more across space and time, across the border that separated the worlds of the living and the dead; and for one bright blinding moment, it was summer again for Severus Snape, till it all vanished in a swirl of mist and memory.

It had lasted barely a second; nevertheless, Severus had almost been in danger of betraying himself by his expression had the boy not suddenly cringed and rubbed his forehead. This provided the opportunity for Severus to break contact and turn his attention back to that fool Quirrell, who was spluttering some more inanities at him. Severus absently noted to himself that there was something not right with the man, and decided to investigate further before he turned his thoughts again to the boy. (Additionally, even Severus, who was no expert on fashion, decided that the turban Quirrell wore on his head was most hideous.) Potter was soon joined by yet another Weasley (was there any end to them? Though Severus had to hand it to Arthur), and already Severus hated the boy. So far, Potter had managed to resemble his father, get sorted into Gryffindor, befriend a Weasley, and find himself in a circle of admirers, four Unforgivables in Severus's mind. He saw how all the attention would make Potter grow arrogant if he wasn't already, just like James. Severus decided right then and there he would not permit such arrogance in his presence, especially in Potions.

Young Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, had been sorted into Slytherin like a proper boy. Across the room Draco's eyes found Severus's, and he gave Severus a smug smile, to which Severus nodded. Draco's mates, however, appeared to be the sorts of clumsy oafs who made Bole look like Merlin, and Severus sighed. The Sorting Hat didn't always choose the cleverest students for Slytherin.

As Dumbledore rose to welcome the students to Hogwarts, Severus's mind drifted to the Philosopher's Stone. He had a dread suspicion that Potter was going to end up being embroiled in it somehow, though he couldn't quite say why. All he knew was that he most likely was to have a devil of a time this term keeping the brat out of trouble, especially if Potter's demeanor resembled his father's as much as his appearance did.

Severus was not looking forward to this school year. No indeed he was not.

After the welcoming feast, Dumbledore summoned Severus to his chambers that evening, as Severus had been expecting. Keeping his eyes on the chessboard, Dumbledore said "Well, Severus. the moment has come at last. The event we'd all been anticipating."

When Severus had nothing to say to that, Dumbledore smiled faintly, added "And what's your impression of the boy, so far?"

"I've hardly had an opportunity to formulate an opinion," Severus replied neutrally.

"It's been my experience that opinions don't often wait for opportunities to form themselves," Dumbledore said.

"He resembles his father greatly," was all Severus allowed.

"In looks, yes. Though I fear that this detail will bias you against him, if it hasn't already." Severus didn't reply.

"Take care, Severus," Dumbledore said, raising his eyes to Severus's own. "Before you decide how you will proceed, carefully consider the likely outcome of your behavior. It may be that your rash judgment could prevent you from forming a strong and valuable bond with someone who desperately seeks a guardian figure."

The idea of attempting to make friends with the son of his greatest rival caused a sneer to form across Severus's face. Dumbledore shook his head.

"As you will, Severus. But try not to let your prejudices be the rulers of your actions."

"He's James Potter's son, Albus."

"And Lily's."

"I see none of that." It wasn't completely true; Severus remembered that strange moment earlier in the evening where it seemed as though she'd gazed out at him through her son's eyes.

"But it's James you're determined to focus on. Very well," Dumbledore said. "As long as you keep your word to protect the boy, I'll say nothing more about it."

"I don't break my promises, Albus."

Dumbledore didn't reply, merely moved his bishop toward Severus's queen. At once Severus's queen obliterated the bishop, and Dumbledore smiled.

"Ah! well. That reminds me: are all the enchantments to protect the Philosopher's Stone in place?"

"They are."

"Splendid. I will add one more, and then it will be complete."

"Why the sudden need to protect it at all, Albus?"

Dumbledore's smile faded, and he leaned forward, said quietly "The thing we feared most is coming to pass."

"You mean-"

"Yes. Lord Voldemort."

"But I haven't-" Severus began, pointing to his forearm.

"He hasn't manifested himself corporeally yet; perhaps that is why you've had no warning."

"But he's out there."

"And getting stronger even as we speak."

"How do you know?"

"Oh, I know," Dumbledore said broodingly. "But the salient point is, Severus, it is now more than ever that I must rely on you to protect Harry Potter. It's well he came to Hogwarts when he did. You must not fail, Severus," Dumbledore said now, almost pleadingly. "Think beyond your hatred of his father, and keep in mind that the boy is the only one who can destroy Voldemort once and for all."

"How?"

"All in good time."

Severus snorted with impatience. "Always riddles with you! How am I to do my duty when I'm only half informed?"

"Do you suppose I'd keep anything from you that was necessary to protect the boy?"

"Yet you won't tell me everything."

"Not now."

"When?"

Dumbledore stood up, and right then Severus was reminded why Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard of the age.

"I have been patient with you, Severus," Dumbledore said in a low voice, though his eyes were livid thunderclouds. "But it is time you learn that it is not for you to decide what information you receive."

Rebuked, Severus lowered his gaze. But he couldn't help but add waspishly "I suppose it's because you don't trust me."

"No, Severus. It's because I don't trust Voldemort. And when-not if, but when-you're in his presence again, I can't take the risk of his having access to vital knowledge should your Occlumency be compromised."

"It won't be compromised. Ever."

"Are you certain?"

Severus looked up. Dumbledore gazed steadily at him, said "You recall that the greatest weakness to an Occlumens is a lack of emotional control. Yet just this evening I've witnessed you become unreasonable over petty things not worthy of you. Therefore, I suggest you make an effort to control your anger toward James. For your sake, as well as the boy's."

Severus glanced down at the chessboard. He saw that his queen was positioned to take Dumbledore's king. He hadn't noticed until now.

"Checkmate," Severus murmured.

"I know," Dumbledore replied.

Despite the fact that Charms class had been her favorite, she'd always loved Potions too, perhaps even more than he did. Therefore, it wasn't surprising that, sooner or later, Lily and Severus would both turn up at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley at the same time: Severus to purchase ingredients for a potion the Dark Lord requested, Lily with her foul bloody bastard boggart of a husband in tow.

Severus noted immediately that she was pregnant, radiant with life, and she held James' hand in hers as she wandered happily through the racks. The summer sunlight through the windows cast her hair in a blaze of fire, and her cheeks were flushed from the heat, her expression beatific. Beside her, James looked like a man who'd been told he'd inherited a vault of gold in Gringotts.

Severus's trembling hand wandered to his wand to curse the life out of her belly. But he stopped himself in time, and instead hid in a dim alcove of the shop.

"Honest to Merlin," Severus overheard James whisper. "I think I saw him."

"Him? D'you mean You-Know-Who?" Lily whispered back.

"Almost like. I mean him. Your old boyfriend, Snivellus."

Pause. "Where?" Then: "He's here?"

"I don't know, maybe he's gone to blow his nose on a ship's sail."

"Don't talk about him like that. And he wasn't my boyfriend, James. We were just friends."

"Hmph," James sniffed. "Could have fooled me, the way you were always hanging off of him, and 'Oh Severus!' this, and 'Oh Severus!' that, and 'Oh Snivelly let me wipe your great giant nose for you."

"Stop it," she replied severely, though she giggled a bit all the same. Severus felt the blood drain from his face. Then "How can you still hate him so much? I thought you'd got over all that."

"He's a dark evil thing is what he is," James replied, all the slyness gone from his voice. "He's no good, Lil. He's a Death Eater now, and they say...Well, they say he Imperiuses people to come to You-Know-Who before You-Know-Who finishes them off."

"No," she whispered. "NO. You can't mean it, James. He wouldn't do that, he promised-"

"Hush, love! Hush, Lily! Shhh, my darling. But that's what they say. Much as I despise him, I'm sorry to have to tell you that, since I know he mattered to you." Pause. "But it was only a matter of time. Even you knew that, I think."

"No..." And even now, even through a barrier far more impenetrable than a rack of glass vials, Severus could sense her mind struggling with this, before a sharp pain pierced his soul when he felt something in her die.

"Don't speak about him anymore," she said at last, her voice as final as a headstone. "Come along, James, I want to go home." It would be the last time Severus ever saw her alive.

"Severus. Some pudding, perhaps?"

Severus looked up to see Dumbledore smiling at him; next to Dumbledore sat James Potter's loathsome son, cackling with the Weasley creature about some inane thing or other.

"No, thank you, Headmaster," Severus said formally, standing up from his chair. "Good evening."

"Good night," Severus," he heard Dumbledore softly reply as he walked away.

This fall term had been the worst Severus ever experienced as a professor.

To begin with, Halloween night had marked ten years since Lily's murder, and Severus was forced to contemplate that she'd been dead almost as long as he'd known her alive, and longer than they'd been friends. It was an impossible notion to grasp, since she was such a profound force in his world, and yet she hasn't physically been a part of it for a decade.

It was no comfort to Severus that her son was a constant reminder of his loss. In recent years, up until the time Potter came to Hogwarts, the memory of Severus's remorse had faded in its intensity, and it was less a searing gash than a nagging scar. Now, though, it was eternally at the forefront of his mind, especially as the incarnation of James Potter regularly sneered at him over his Potions cauldron, as if James's ghost were reproaching Severus for having failed yet again.

Right from the beginning, Severus and the boy had been at loggerheads, just as it had been with James. Potter's inattention, smugness, and cavalier attitude in that first Potions lesson sealed it for Severus. He hated the boy even more than he'd expected to, and it did not help that the boy had chosen some of the most odious students in his year to befriend: that horrid Weasley brat, and that girl who did not know how to keep her mouth shut. The trio had already gotten into trouble numerous times, and Severus saw how they were just like the Marauders all over again. Perhaps the only student whom Severus loathed more was Neville Longbottom. His timid incompetence alone would have drawn from Severus the coldest disdain. But as he could have been the Dark Lord's target instead of Potter, why...Why, Lily might still be alive to this day, if the Dark Lord had chosen Neville instead.

Many other things occurred this term to add insult to injury. Of course, Minerva and Albus bent the rules to allow Precious Potter to play Quidditch; and of course, the boy had to prove talented at it, helping to vanquish Severus's own Slytherins for the first time in years. It was as though Merlin Himself had fashioned Potter out of all the ingredients required to make him Severus's ideal foe, and Severus bitterly rued the day when his younger self swore to protect the brat. If he'd only known!

But then, there were times when Lily's ghost seemed to whisper in his mind, gently urging Severus to take care of her beloved son. He'd already failed her twice before. He could not do so a third time, and expect to live with himself.

Winter break was the best time of the academic year, as most of the students went home for the holidays, leaving the school deserted. The only damper to it this season was discovering that Potter and the Weasleys were staying at Hogwarts during break, though Severus supposed that Potter had wit enough to deduce that the comfort of a cold castle was superior to his mother's sister's company, and that the Weasley family probably couldn't afford to feed their children over the winter holidays. As there were so few people in the castle during this time, Albus in his absurdly chummy way decided that all staff and remaining students should dine at one table in the Hall. Severus was rather disenchanted with the idea, and chose to take his meals in his office instead. However, when Dumbledore hinted to him over chess one evening that it was hardly in the school spirit for Severus to not partake in communal meals, Severus resumed eating supper, anyway, in the Hall, where he was forced to be in close proximity to Potter, whom Severus supposed enjoyed it as much as Severus did. During this time, Severus could not swear that Potter wasn't somehow roaming the halls at night (just like his odious father), but Severus never managed to catch him in the act. Nevertheless, it seemed to him that Potter would not meet his eyes over supper, and when he did, Severus would catch flickering images in his mind that sealed the boy's guilt. Potter was a fool, and as open as a book. But his explorations through the castle and grounds were dangerous, which meant Severus took to wandering the school at night himself to be present in case something happened to the thoughtless boy.

But this night, as the sky outside the windows was crystal clear and the ground beneath it blanketed softly in fresh snow, Severus found himself perusing a part of the castle he wasn't greatly familiar with, one primarily made up of disused classrooms. However, something told him that this was a favorite haunt of Potter's, and here Severus went to patrol.

As he passed one of the classroom doors, he thought he saw a flash of light coming from beyond its threshold. To investigate, he entered the room in question, only to find another lighted wand similar to his own nearing him with each step. It was then he realized that the source of light was his own wand reflected within what looked to be a great, tall mirror.

Curious, Severus thought. What should such a thing be doing here, of all places?

As mirrors were not a source of joy to him, he didn't tarry in front of it before he made to turn away. But he was arrested when he realized it was not he who was reflected back at him...and what he saw made him nearly drop his wand.

Simple. Long red hair, sparkling eyes, sweet face, freckled nose. So simple, and yet so profound he wanted to weep. She smiled at him as though she were really glad to see him. But when he turned around, she wasn't there.

Frantic, he looked back into the mirror again. There she was, still smiling. He couldn't speak; he couldn't move. Breathing was impossible. This was not like those dreams of his, where everything had that blurred, unreal quality. It wasn't even like his bottled memories, with their silvery outline. This was Lily Evans as he'd known her, down to her wild hair and the tiny mole on her neck and her feet that were slightly turned in. Her lips were even chapped, as they often were from her chewing on them when she was studying or otherwise thinking deeply. There was even her bitten-down nails, and the hole in her favorite sweater that she refused to throw away because it was her best color.

What was this? A mirror that could turn back time? A portal to the otherworld? But his thoughts dissolved when she took a step closer, and held up her palm.

Severus immediately understood. He raised his own palm, lay it over hers. Instead of warm flesh he felt nothing but the coldness of glass, yet the gesture melted him all the same.

I forgive, it said.

Lily, he tried to speak, but no sound came out. She stepped even closer, so close he could see the faint flecks of gold in her eyes, the copper sheen of her eyelashes. He stepped closer too, and leaned his forehead against the glass.

He didn't know how long he stood there like that, but eventually he heard the rustle of robes behind him, felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Severus," Dumbledore said quietly.

The spell seemed to break then, and Severus turned from the mirror at last, to find Dumbledore gazing at him with an expression Severus had never seen from him before. Then, with a wistful smile, Albus drew Severus's arm in his own, and without a word led Severus away.