"Try and catch me if you can!"

Coming home for the holidays had been worth it when it had been spent in pleasant company.

A bubble of lovely laughter floated into the air, sending shivers down Snape's spine and making his stomach uneasy. His heavy legs dragged him up the hillside obligingly, trailing after the red-headed girl who had obtained a rather impressive lead.

He'd never imagined that a girl could move so fast.

"Lily! Mum said to come inside for dinner!"

The reprimanding voice caught both of them off guard, sending them to a screeching halt in their little escapade. Lily's rosy face came into view once more as she turned around and travelled toward her sister, Petunia, panting slightly through parted lips. Her almond shaped eyes regarded Petunia coolly, trying to come off as friendly and unthreatening.

"Sure, Petunia. Tell Mum I'll be there in a minute. I have to say goodbye to Sev."

The pet name made Snape's stomach perform a proper somersault this time, eyes roving over to Petunia and giving her a displeased glare for cutting their fun short. It seemed that his days with Lily had been significantly reduced recently, leaving him with a burning desire to be around the girl at every offered opportunity.

Petunia merely rolled her eyes cholericly. "Fine, but I don't get why you'd want to waste your time with the likes of him anyway."

Snape jumped at the scathing comment immediately, sputtering angrily and storming over to Petunia with his wand raised aggressively. "The same could be said for you. It's no wonder you haven't got any friends. Still want to be a witch?"

Petunia narrowed her eyes in a set glower, knocking the wand out of Snape's hand with a powerful swat. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be," Snape countered rapidly, catching his wand before it could hit the grass. He started to mouth an incantation vengefully.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Lily groaned, stepping in. "Can't you all just try to get along? I told you not to take out your wand at Petunia after what happened last time, Sev! Don't you listen to anything I say?"

Snape fumbled with the words in his throat, flustered at seeing Lily so irritated. "Of course I do, but it's not my fault that—"

"For the millionth time, she's my sister! No matter what you say, I'll still be by her side. Don't you understand?"

Snape stowed his wand, eyes focused on a nearby tree so that he wouldn't have to look at those furious green gems. "No, I don't. Just like I don't understand why you're always hanging around that Potter kid when we're at school."

"Are you still going on about that? I told you that there's nothing going on between the two of us!"

"Then why have you been sending him so many letters over the break?"

Lily's eyes widened as she brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. "You were snooping around my desk again, weren't you?"

Snape shamefully lowered his eyes, wringing his worn scarf warily. "Yes, but it was because I didn't want you to get hurt. James Potter is a complete and utter tosser."

Lily clenched her teeth, shaking her head softly. "I don't need you to tell me what to do or to protect me from anything. I'm able to take care of myself and talk to whomever I like."

"But why would you want to talk to him of all people?"

Petunia furrowed her eyebrows, completely lost as to what was going on. With a frustrated scowl, she set off to the house, adjusting her winter hat as she went. "I'm not saving you any hot cocoa, Lily!"

Lily simply waved at her sister dismissively, attention directed at Snape. "I don't think it's any of your concern who I want to talk to. Just because we're best friends doesn't mean that I can't talk to anyone else."

"I know that but…" Snape's sentence hung unfinished in the air as he berated himself for not being more sympathetic. What was he supposed to tell her? That she wasn't allowed to spend time with others because he wanted her for himself? She'd leave in the blink of an eye! It was, however, the truth. He greedily wanted her all for himself. If he couldn't have her, then no one else had the right to sweep her away.

Lily sighed, giving Snape a thoughtful look. "You can be really cruel at times."

Snape gave an affronted scowl before stowing his wand. "I'm just trying to make you see that—never mind," he muttered, looking a bit pained. He'd tried to confess his love to Lily before, but could never muster up the courage to say exactly what was on his mind. He didn't want to destroy their established friendship together by making the situation awkward and uncomfortable, but his silent yearning for her was torture in and of itself. Every little thing she did sent his thoughts reeling and his nerves tingling. The worst part—by far—was the ever lingering knowledge that Lily might fall in love with Potter. He wasn't daft; he could see the way she looked at him. It was a look of admiration and longing with which she never granted Snape the privilege of being on the receiving end. She would never be his, and that was that. The truth stung, but he knew he couldn't deny it.

Yet, his heart remained in pure and merciless agony.

That was the horrible thing about unrequited love—it never knew when to surrender. Each day, the thought of Lily would be etched into his mind in a constant cycle of repetition. He picked through every moment spent with her, wondering where he might have gone wrong, and how to prevent making a fool out of himself in future encounters. He'd lie on his bedroom floor, scowling at the ceiling before the cycle of self-deprecation would begin. Some days were easier to get through than others. He could concentrate on other subjects such as Potions and the Dark Arts, but they could only distract him for so long.

It was the worst feeling in the world—to love someone so deeply without even a hint of affection in return. Likewise, it was difficult to properly describe the severity of the seemingly everlasting ache buried in the cavity of his chest, making him feel as though he'd tried to swallow a bludger. He'd try to assure himself that a love interest was holding him back from his studies, but it was always a futile effort because a moment later, he'd be immersed in the despair of imagining a world without Lily.

"Well, I should probably get inside before Petunia throws a fit again."

Snape frowned, throat constricting every time he was forced to part ways with the girl. "Alright, see you tomorrow?"

"I'm sure Mum won't mind if you stay for dinner. That is, if you want to stay," Lily said invitingly.

Snape was tempted to decline the offer for the sheer purpose of sparing himself another torturous hour of misery in the company of unreturned love. However, one look at Lily's green eyes and gentle smile made him feel like his stomach was somersaulting again.

"Of course I want to stay."

Sometimes he wished he had the bleeding heart of a Gryffindor.

Who was the perpetrator behind that terribly obnoxious beeping noise? He was going to smash the blighter's head into a wall with a flick of his wand as soon as he could grasp hold of enough energy to open his eyes.

"Snape?"

He blinked and rubbed a cold hand over his haggard face. The first thing his dark eyes laid sight on, were those green lenses. It was always those pair of doe-like orbs that drove him over the edge and haunted him on a daily basis. Perhaps he could sneak a potion into Potter's drink that would finally alter the color of his eyes for at least a little while—if only to spare him from a moment of distress.

He managed to gain the ability to speak again. "Potter?"

He couldn't exactly remember how he had ended up in a dingy cot, bright lights digging into his corneas and making the dryness that had settled there even more irritating. Potter seemed to struggle with the words on his tongue for a moment, opening his mouth and closing it multiple times before just deciding to stay silent.

"Cat got your tongue, Potter?" Snape sneered, grimacing in pain as he tried to lift himself up into a sitting position.

Surprising them both, Harry clenched his eyes shut and let his breath catch in his throat, shaking slightly in the cold air of the hospital room. He shook his head and let out a pitiful chuckle, a hand reaching under his glasses to wipe away the moisture that had settled there.

"You're... You… You barmy prat!" Harry breathed, absolutely fuming on the inside but trying to keep his composure for the sake of the bedridden man. "How many times are you going to collapse before you learn to take care of your damned health? You've keeled over twice now, and I've almost had two heart attacks as a result. No offense, but I don't appreciate you trying to die at my feet every other day. And then, you have the conceit to insist that I don't call for help? I don't care who it is; I'm not going to stand back and watch them die in front of me."

"Ah, if I recall correctly, you swore that the next time I 'dropped to the floor', you'd leave me there for Dumbledore to collect. How like you to not be a man of your word."

"That would've been the easier solution, no doubt," Harry murmured plaintively.

Snape's muddled mind caught the underlying concern in Harry's tone, bringing an amused smirk to his face as he watched the teenager scold his least favorite professor at Hogwarts like a lecturing parent. "There's no need to be so distraught, Potter. I assure you that I will return to Hogwarts this upcoming term to make you as miserable as ever. Perhaps, you'll even break your record amount of detentions with me. So, you see, there's still much to look forward to."

"Belt up," Harry ordered roughly, eyes scathing and still tinged with mild spots of red. "You have no right to be mocking me after I saved your arse. You can repay me by telling me what this picture you gave me is all about. I know that there's something you aren't telling me about my mother."

Snape heaved a sigh. So, it hadn't just been all a bad dream, after all. He had actually walked into the boy's bedroom and presented him with one of his most treasured mementos.

Lovely…

Harry's face hardened as he stood at the foot of the bed, towering over Snape. In fact, it was rather ironic how quickly their roles had been reversed. "I'm waiting," the boy urged, holding up the offending picture.

"Well," Snape began slowly, clearing his throat. He had every right to tell the cheeky brat to let him be and stop pestering him, but he had to finish what he had started. "Your mother and I were… close friends, so to speak."

Harry leaned against the edge of the cot, dropping the picture into Snape's lap. "I gathered that much."

"Long story short, I said something that I deeply regret and severed our friendship," he murmured, brushing the rest of the anecdote aside. He hoped to bury the past, but it refused to be entombed.

"What did you say?" Harry demanded, growing obstinate in his goal to wring out some answers.

Snape shut his eyes, bringing himself back to the terrible moment that he wished he could've undone. Either way, it didn't matter, seeing as his friendship with Lily would've ended sooner or later considering that he couldn't suppress his emotions for her.

"As you know, your mother's parents were muggle-born."

"You didn't…" Harry ran a hand through his matted hair, already predicting where this story was going.

Snape kept his eyes closed, unable to look at Harry any longer. "Unfortunately, I did. I called her a Mudblood. I immediately regretted it after I'd said it, but your mother, being that she had forgiven my previous slip-ups, had decided that she'd had enough. We didn't speak to each other much after that day. I apologized multiple times, but obviously it was too late."

Harry moved across the room to sit in the plastic chair by the bedside, unable to process what he was hearing. How was it possible that one of the people he disliked the most had been friends with his mother? He knew what question he had to ask next, but he was rather afraid of what the answer might hold.

"Were you two ever more than friends?"

"No. What an idiotic assumption of you to even—"

Harry dug his nails into his palms. "I want the truth," he interrupted. "You owe it to me to tell me exactly what happened."

"You're sorely mistaken; I am not and never will be in debt to you, Potter. If anyone holds any amount of debt, it is you. I have paid my dues," Snape responded coldly, growing very serious.

"What are you talking about? You work for Voldemort! You are still the reason my parents are dead! You're a coward who takes out his anger on me just because my father used to bully you in school and my mother stopped being friends with you. It's pathetic!"

Snape bolted upright in bed, snatching Harry by the collar of the shirt and drawing him dangerously close with a murderous look in his eyes. "How dare you?" he snapped, suddenly losing any previously held self-control. The mask had disintegrated, and the following words that flowed out of his mouth set themselves free of their own accord. "I have risked my neck for you countless times, Potter. I've kept your hide safe all of these damned years. Or have you already forgotten how I kept Quirrell from sending you to an early grave by keeping him from plowing you into the earth during your ruddy Quidditch match? Or this year, when I kept Umbridge from pouring Veritaserum down your throat? Not to mention that I informed the Order of Black's supposed capture and how you were bound to head for the Department of Mysteries to play the role of hero—quite stupidly, might I add—once more. You fell right into the Dark Lord's trap. I had tried to search for you in the Forbidden Forest, but you'd already whisked away on your journey. Fortunately, it seems that you have learned something in the course of our Occlumency lessons, seeing as the Dark Lord failed to possess you after you drove him out of your thoughts."

Harry felt a small pang of guilt, but refused to acknowledge it. Obviously, Snape was not a good person. He was bitter, cynical old man, and a bully. He took pleasure in the failures of others. He loved making his students suffer in his class.

But he also wasn't completely heartless.

Harry suddenly remembered their recent time spent together at Grimmauld Place. Snape had kept him from harming himself while grieving over the loss of Sirius that one night. He'd treated the boils and rash that he'd contracted from that bubotuber pus. He'd come looking for him out in the rain to make sure he hadn't done anything reckless.

He wasn't as stone-cold as he appeared to be.

"And to think," Snape continued feverishly, "that after all of my efforts—after pledging my allegiance to Dumbledore and working alongside the Order—you still have the impudence to claim that I am indebted to you is, quite frankly, astonishing. And you want to know something, Potter? I despise you. You look so much like your ruddy father, but you had to have her eyes. You just have to look at me with that same expression of concern that she once possessed. I would've given my life to save her, but she had already sacrificed herself for your protection. So, I swore to Dumbledore that I would help keep you safe from the Dark Lord, if only to keep Lily's death from being in vain. Of course, he never told you this because he was sworn to secrecy. I knew you'd find out eventually that I'd had a one-sided platonic relationship with your mother for many years, but I had hoped that I'd get to carry my motives to the grave with me."

Harry's head felt like it was about to explode. He wanted to convince himself that all of Snape's ranting was just an elaborate lie, but there was such conviction in the man's tone that Harry inwardly knew that the words were genuine. "So that's why Dumbledore trusts you so unconditionally because you…loved my mother?"

The word felt so foreign leaving his mouth. Love? How could any person such as Snape ever be capable of loving someone?

Snape simmered down, closing his eyes once more and nodding his head curtly for a brief moment. "It's best if you leave, Potter. Dumbledore is undoubtedly on his way, and he'll want to speak to you. Then, you'll have to be sent back to your aunt and uncle's house until he can find out where to locate you until the beginning of term."

Harry retreated to the doorway of the little hospital room, unable to separate the cluster of emotions he was feeling. He knew that he should leave Snape alone for a while, at least until Dumbledore got the chance to talk with him. Thus, he turned the doorknob reluctantly and steppe out, deciding to loiter in the waiting room.

"Happy Birthday, Harry."

Harry sat up in flimsy chair that he had clumsily slumped into nearly an hour previously, vision fuzzy as he recovered from the sleepiness that had taken over his body and sent him into a half-dozing state. He lifted his head slowly and acknowledged the visitor, still dazed. "Sir?"

Dumbledore smiled brightly, adjusting his spectacles as he took a seat beside Harry, eyes thoughtful. "I must properly thank you for aiding our Potion's Master. Between you and me, he isn't as much of a grouch as he wishes to be perceived as. I'm sure he appreciates your help, though he may not voice it openly."

Harry fidgeted in his seat. "It was nothing, really."

"I also apologize for the interruption in your birthday celebrations."

Harry shook his head, lightly rubbing the rash that was still inhabiting his complexion. "There's no need to apologize. I should've expected things to go downhill after this morning's encounter with bubotuber pus. I'm happy to have been able to be of use, at least."

"Regardless, there's still time for you to indulge in some birthday cake. The night is still young," Dumbledore informed cheerfully, summoning a small piece of vanilla cake with a candle burrowed at the top. "Don't forget to make a wish."

Harry smiled wanly, thanking the elder man as he hoped for happiness in the days to come before blowing out the candle with a large puff of air. A quick glance at his watch confirmed his suspicions that it was now early evening, meaning that this birthday didn't have to be a complete disaster, after all. Besides, he'd had plenty of birthdays that had been far worse than this. Granted, he'd never had spent one in the hospital before.

"Do you think he'll be alright, sir?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, looking as amused as ever. "Severus? Oh, certainly. I highly doubt anything short of a Dementor's Kiss could render him too ill to recover. The curse in the potion is likely to have almost completely left his system by this point. He'll be back to organizing his lesson plans in a few days' time."

Harry grinned, taking a bite out of the sweet frosting of the cake. "He probably can't wait to terrorize some more first years with pop quizzes on their summer reading assignments for Potions. They'll have no idea what hit them."

"Actually, it has been decided that Professor Snape will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this upcoming term," Dumbledore said nonchalantly, surveying the bustling staff of the hospital.

Harry nearly choked on the cake, eyes widening as forcibly swallowed to clear his throat. "Really? Well… I heard he's wanted that job for a really long time."

"Has he?" Dumbledore remarked, pretending to be oblivious. "In that case, I'm sure there's much that you can learn from him this term, and it'd be best if you applied yourself accordingly."

Harry suppressed a frown. Snape's classes were complete torture, but he supposed that he'd be able to manage an average grade in Defense Against the Dark Arts no matter who was teaching it. Potions, on the other hand, had never been his strong suit.

"Well, Harry, I'd better check in on our professor and find out when he'll be released from St. Mungo's care. After that, we'll have to send you someplace safe, seeing as Severus will no longer be able to provide any security at the current time," Dumbledore stated, rising to leave.

Unexpectedly, Harry felt a bit of sadness rise up in his chest. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm sure that Snape and I could stay out of harm's way for the next few days until everything goes back to normal. There's no need to move me elsewhere."

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks, giving the birthday boy a long, calculating look. Perhaps, the teen's words would've held more merit if his face wasn't so red and splotchy from the rash. Looking into his eyes, Dumbledore could see the new fondness that had settled there. It looked as though someone didn't despise their Potion's teacher as much as they claimed.

"Very well, Harry," Dumbledore said with a nod. "Though I may have some fellow Order members stop by every once in a while to make sure all is in order. We'll discuss it further in a moment."

Harry felt his face grow warm, second guessing his decision as swiftly as he'd made it. Why would he ever want to spend extra time unnecessarily with Snape? Maybe he was the one who was growing ill now.

Well, if his mother had been friends with him, he couldn't be all that bad.

Harry sighed, slightly comforted by the fact that there was still someone besides Lupin and Dumbledore that had personally known his parents.

And he was positive that Lily would've wanted him to at least give Snape a chance, especially after all that he had done for him.

So, that git had better not almost die on him ever again.