For Lily's Sake

by mlocatis

AU James Potter sacrificed himself for his wife and child, protecting baby Harry and sparing Lily from Voldemort, though Harry still bears his scar. By Harry's third year, Severus Snape has reinserted himself into Lily's life and successfully proposed marriage. Harry finds himself trying to balance his mother's happiness with his new stepfather's vicious hatred of all things Harry

4. Chapter 4

Severus slammed the door to the flat's laboratory a little harder than he'd intended. It wasn't that he was angry, or particularly upset….

He was nervous. That was it. The base of the Wolfsbane was simmering, but there would be more work to be done that afternoon, after Lily and Potter returned from Diagon Alley. And that meant that the three of them would be spending a prolonged amount of time in each other's company.

He couldn't send Potter away, or argue that the boy was incompetent. He'd likely been assisting Lily for years, and if it was just ingredient prep, there was very little hazard of having him in the lab. Which meant that Severus would have to tolerate his presence, and find a way to be civil—no, he reminded himself. Civil would not do, not now. If he wanted to undo the damage he'd done, he would have to do much better than merely civil.

It had been nearly an hour and a half since the two had departed for their excursion, and in that time, in addition to beginning the Wolfsbane potion, Severus had done a great deal of brooding. And he'd come to a few conclusions.

He had behaved like an ass this morning, and Potter had endured that behavior with astonishing good grace. In fact, his behavior over the course of the past few weeks had been wholly inexcusable. An admonishment and a veiled threat from Albus Dumbledore, the kindest and least severe Headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, should have been enough of a red flag.

But no, Severus had shrugged that off and foolishly plodded on, choosing instead to alienate the boy even further for no reason other than he looked like James Potter, and some primal, underdeveloped part of Severus' brain saw him as a rival for Lily's attention and affection.

And if that hadn't been enough, the boy he'd so thoroughly mistreated had done him the kindness of lying and covering for him, no doubt believing that Snape would eventually come to his senses. Yes, because the boy cared for his mother, and the only reason the brazen, noble Harry Potter would willingly lie to her and subject himself to humiliation would be to protect her. To stop her, in other words, from seeing that the man she'd chosen to marry had a vicious streak a mile wide and was utterly incapable of keeping his baser tendencies in check.

Potter had been afraid that Severus was going to ruin it. Those mysterious words from breakfast had lingered with him, tormenting him, until he'd come to the stunning conclusion that Potter could only possibly want his hated Potions Professor to remain with his mother. I gave you both my blessing…. No, Potter hadn't been trying to stand in his way. He had been trying to save Severus from himself, for Lily's sake.

And now? he thought bitterly. How did he move on from here? What could he possibly do? How did one accept an olive branch, provided that it was not already too late? It would have to be something significant, something that would signal that Severus wanted to have more than just a civil relationship. Damn it, he owed the boy an apology, a real apology, but his insufferable pride would not allow him to simply come out and say it. He could already picture Potter's smug face, the nasty little smirk that would curl his lips, the satisfaction that would glow in his eyes at having finally brought his professor low enough to have to issue an apology…..

No, he reminded himself, this was not about being brought low or being humiliated. Potter—Harry—was not James. This was about setting things to rights, and about getting to a point where he could develop a real rapport with his stepson. For Lily's sake.

Because if Potter could suffer silently for his mother, then Severus could certainly make a few friendly overtures toward the boy in order to mend things between them. He'd been selfish, thinking that he could continue to indulge his vindictiveness while courting Lily, let alone after their marriage. No, he would show the woman he loved that he could be a decent father to her child.

He heard the telltale crack of Apparition. And with his new conviction blazing in his chest, Severus strode confidently toward the kitchen to face Lily and Harry.

"Go to your room," he heard Lily instruct, her tone unusually frosty.

Severus' skin prickled at the unusual sharpness of her voice. What in the hells had Potter done? Surely the boy couldn't have found mischief during such a short outing.

"Mum, please, just—"

"Now!" Lily bit out, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Don't be too hasty," Potter pleaded.

Severus peered into the kitchen, a little wary of interrupting the two. Potter, he saw, was nearly cowering before Lily, his eyes slightly red, his whole body screaming dejection.

And Lily. Merlin, she was in a fury the likes of which he'd not seen since…. Well, he certainly did not like remembering that day for a multitude of reasons. But the worst part of that memory had been the fire blazing in Lily Evans' eyes as she'd regarded him, that foul word still ringing in the air. Pain, anger, betrayal… and those brilliant green eyes had pierced him to his very soul, carrying Lily's hurt straight into him, like heat transferred through metal.

And Potter had somehow managed to draw that unbearable expression out of his mother, the worthless little whelp. What he could have possibly done….

"Harry James Potter, you will stay out of this! You have interfered quite enough already. Now, to your room, before I decide to levitate you there!"

Severus watched with a modicum of satisfaction as the boy flushed to the tips of his ears and meekly trotted out of the kitchen, past Severus. The boy spared him a brief glance, and the tangle of emotions Severus saw on the boy's face unnerved him. Raw fear, mostly—but of Lily? Surely not. Shame, regret, loathing—yes, that last one was for him, certainly.

Now he was curious, and if he was being honest with himself, a touch apprehensive, considering that there was now a thing that Potter had meddled in, something that he and Lily would likely have to manage. Perhaps Potter had finally slipped, as Severus knew he would, and revealed too much of the relationship between his Potions professor and his mother. Hopefully it was something that could be contained with a few owled letters, maybe an appeal to Albus' considerable influence.

"Severus."

Severus' heart froze in his chest, mostly from the ice in Lily's tone. But too from the instant realization of what Potter had meddled in. Or rather, simply what Potter had hidden from his mother. Severus' awful, inexcusable behavior, the very behavior he'd just vowed to fix.

Yes, he thought, he was too late. He could see it in the woman's eyes. That expression had not been for Potter, oh no, it was all for him. Again.

"Lily." Her name escaped as barely a whisper. "How was your outing?"

"Rather informative." Lily folded her arms over her chest, her eyes glinting like stone-cold emeralds. "You'll never guess who we ran into."

"Lily, I—"

Lily's nostrils flared as soon as Severus opened his mouth, and that was enough for him to swallow the remains of whatever petty excuse he'd been in the middle of stringing together.

"Neville Longbottom, Severus. And he had the strangest tale. He ran over to Harry feeling he just had to apologize for what had occurred in your class. Isn't that strange? That Neville Longbottom would feel guilty somehow for my son's failings? Unless, of course, there is more to the story than just Harry's incompetence. Is there, Professor?"

Severus winced back from his title, the single word dripping with so much venom that it burned through him. He didn't know what to say. Hadn't he drawn the independent conclusion that there was no excuse? "I didn't handle things as I should have—"

"The understatement of the century. Congratulations, Severus, your cowardice knows no bounds."

Those words cut so deep. Severus clenched his hands hard in an effort to maintain control of himself, even though he was just inches away from throwing himself at Lily's feet and begging her forgiveness.

Lily continued on, her words rising in volume as she spoke. "To think that Albus got involved—that it came to that point. Did you think that I wouldn't eventually find out? That Harry would just keep his mouth shut and his head down for the rest of his life? That I would never run into anyone from Hogwarts who would mention just how much of an absolute ogre you've been?"

"I'm sorry—"

"Oh, are you?" Lily snorted, her lips thinning even further. She stalked forward, unintimidated by Severus' height, and positioned herself so that she was glaring up at him, just inches from his chest. "For what, I wonder? For mercilessly torturing my son for—well, how many years has it been? All the while he said nothing to me, not one complaint, not one hint of what you were putting him through, because he thought you were good for me." Lily's voice broke on those last words, and she abruptly whipped away and stalked over to the kitchen window.

"I…." Severus swallowed several times, desperately trying to get his tongue working, even as his brain searched for the nonexistent words that might mend this.

"He was a child. He still is a child. And I… Merlin, I've failed him…." Those words she whispered angrily to himself. "I should have known. I felt something was off, but no, I was too self-absorbed to think—and too willing to see the best in you. I thought he was just shy, just intimidated. What an absolute fool I've been. He'll never forgive me. He shouldn't forgive me for this, for what I've put him through—"

"Lily, it was my fault," Severus choked out. "All me. I was petty and vicious, and there is no excuse for what I did, but you didn't—"

"Oh, what you did." The fury came rushing back into her voice. Her posture tightened, her spine straightened, and she pivoted back to face him once again, that pain and anger drowning her eyes. "I don't know the half of it. It was pulling teeth just to get Harry to admit to any of it! He was making excuses for you up until the very end, and if I dragged him back out here, he would still make excuses. Because I'm such a terrible parent that he believes that he has to look after me, that it's his duty to make sacrifices for my happiness. And why would he believe any differently, when I was stupid enough to marry someone cruel enough to exorcise old, festering grudges on an innocent child.

"No, I don't know the half of what passed between you, but I will, mark my words. And even now I can guess well enough from what Neville said…."

"Lily," Severus rasped desperately. He longed to wrap her in an embrace, to do anything that might offer her some comfort. She was so angry, and so deeply distressed. But he knew that his arms would not be welcome at all, and he'd likely end up hexed to pieces if he tried to reassure her now. "I know—I've been trying to… I'm a weak man—"

"Yes, you are," Lily cut him off, her tone glacial. "I think you'd best leave, Severus, before I do something stupid."

Severus winced. "I truly am sorry," he whispered. "So very sorry. If you would just give me a chance—"

"Another chance?" she hissed. "How many do you think you get? I thought you'd grown up when you came back to me, you know. I thought for certain that you'd left all that spite behind you... You know, the worst of it, Severus, is that I might have been able to forgive you for hurting me. But for hurting Harry?" She shook her head slowly in disgust. "My son? My child? No. I don't think you're even sorry for that. You're sorry that you've upset me. But you don't give a shrivelfig for what you've done to my boy, do you? Merlin, if I didn't object, if I didn't know, you'd continue to torture him for the high crime of resembling his father, wouldn't you?"

Severus tried to shake his head, tried to deny it, but he did not have that conviction himself. Did he care about Potter's feelings? Was he truly such a monster that he was unbothered by the misery and suffering he'd inflicted?

"Go home, Severus," she repeated, her chilled tone leaving no room for argument. "And expect me sometime next week, Professor, to discuss your treatment of my son."

"I can do better," Severus protested weakly, but the rest of his argument died on his lips as he watched Lily slowly twist her wedding band from her finger, followed by the engagement ring he'd given her. And quite suddenly the pain in his chest rose to a point that he couldn't breathe.

She set both on the kitchen table. "Please do me the courtesy of leaving my home." And with that she stormed off to her study, slamming the door behind her.

Severus stared after her in shock for a few moments, his heart hammering painfully against his ribcage. His eyes stayed locked on those twin bands lying abandoned on the kitchen counter. So it was over, just like that. He'd lost her again. And this time there would be no chance for late night apologies, no standing outside the Gryffindor common room pleading for her to just hear him out. No notes sent fluttering to her discreetly in their joint classes. No tentative attempts at conversation in Slughorn's class, where they were forced to share a cauldron.

Oh, he would see her again next week, but in a professional capacity. And knowing Lily, it would be with the Headmaster at her side, and only to discuss appropriate consequences for his gross misconduct. He would prefer never seeing her again to having to enduring interacting with her with all those walls in place.

His eyes strayed unwillingly toward Potter's door, Lily's accusations still ringing in his mind. Did he care about the boy? Well, Potter had certainly risked his neck for him. Lily was not happy that he'd lied to her. And… yes, he had to face it now. No more justifications. His behavior had been unquestionably juvenile. And Potter had suffered because of it.

All in all, the boy had held up well. It was surprising that he hadn't retaliated. Had their positions been reversed…. Well, Severus knew he would have cooked up at least a half a dozen nasty revenge plots by now. Severus had to respect the boy's restraint.

But did he feel anything for the boy? There had certainly been enough guilty twinges over the years. But did those twinges amount to anything?

The seconds were ticking by too quickly, and Severus knew that he had to leave. He would not upset Lily further by lingering, by causing a scene on top of everything else.

Numbly, Severus straightened his robes and forced himself over to the floo, step after unpleasant step. He had the strangest sentimental impulse to look back and memorize the place, especially that warm kitchen. He knew he would not be coming back here again.

But those rings in the kitchen…. Just knowing they were there, scorning him, was too much. He couldn't bring himself to take that final look.

So he faced the mantel, trying to hold himself up but feeling as brittle as singed parchment. He took the necessary pinch of floo powder from the chipped floral teacup Lily kept on hand, threw it down, and stated, "Severus Snape's quarters, Hogwarts" as firmly as he could muster.

A roar of green later and he was back in his sitting room, overwhelmed by the emptiness of the place. He took two steps before collapsing bonelessly onto the couch, his chest already shaking faintly with the beginnings of wrenching sobs.

Ruined. Just as Potter had predicted. Not by the boy's hand, even, though it would have been so easy for the boy to ruin everything. Ruined by his own excess, by his own carelessness.

Severus drew his wand and waved it wearily at his liquor cabinet, summoning forth a bottle of long-neglected brandy (a gift from Albus many Christmases ago) and a glass tumbler. It was a good a time as any, he decided, to take up day-drinking.

Lily would never speak to him again, not really. Certainly not when he couldn't even bring himself to feel the slightest sympathy for what he'd put her son through. And without her… well, what did he really have? A thankless teaching post? An aging, nearly senile, and wholly insufferable Headmaster who likely would see poetic justice in this turn of events? A stern, sharp-tongued Gryffindor colleague who only tolerated his presence so that she could engage in Quidditch trash-talking? A handful of other distant acquaintances?

Oh, yes, not to mention a whole host of Death Eaters in hiding, some of whom wanted to crucify him for his traitorous spying in the last war. And certainly dear old Lucius, who was forever and a day trying to maneuver Severus into his confidences. Yes, Lucius was intent on dragging Severus under his wing so that the potions master might be put to better use as an instrument of Malfoy influence at Hogwarts.

A rich social life he led indeed. At this rate, he would have to order a house elf into his presence if he wanted even a moderately sympathetic ear.

Severus caught the levitating bottle of brandy and sloshed a rather generous amount into his glass. A tumbler, he realized too slowly. Why in the bloody hell had he summoned a tumbler for brandy? Wholly inappropriate. If he was about to drink himself into oblivion, he would do it properly. With a twisted, ugly smile, he tapped his wand to the tumbler and transfigured it into a more appropriate snifter. Yes, that was much better.

Straightening marginally, Severus managed to draw himself up a little. He raised his snifter in a mocking toast, sloshing brandy onto his hand in the process. "To my own cowardice, vice, and colossal stupidity," he announced to the empty room, before downing the entire glass.

And with that pronouncement something within him, the divider that had kept all of his less savory emotions at bay, dissolved entirely. Shame and remorse flooded him, and he was surprised to find that not all of it was attached to Lily. Potter was in there too, all his hateful glares, the look on his face when Severus had accused him of plagiarism, the abnormal whiteness of his visage when threatened with corporal punishment….

Snape barked out a bitter laugh and set to refilling his snifter. He was human enough to feel remorse, he thought. Oh, that didn't make him any less of a monster, but it sure didn't do a damned thing for him either. Lily wouldn't let him speak to her son, and he couldn't see Potter willingly sticking around for a friendly chat after his potions class. The boy had no reason to tolerate his presence now. So Severus would never get the opportunity to properly apologize.

He would write a letter, he decided, even as he downed his second glass of brandy. This one stung far less than the last, though it still burned unpleasantly all down his throat and in his gut. Nothing a few more glasses would not fix, of course.

Yes, he would write a nice, long letter, and maybe Potter would forgive him. And if Lily's son forgave him….

He laughed at himself, the sound dangerously close to turning into a harsh sob. If Potter forgave him… about as likely as the Cannons taking the Cup. And even if, by some miracle, the boy was magnanimous enough to see that Snape was sorry, that wasn't going to be enough to budge Lily one inch.

Oh, he might have a chance left with the younger Potter, but he'd already used up all of Lily's good will. The most he could hope for now was an eventual thawing of relations and perhaps civility. There would be no crawling back into her good graces, not this time.

So. A letter. Maybe he could at least assuage a part of his guilty conscience, and salvage a shred of his soul in the process.

XXXXX

Harry heard the rush of the floo, and it was then that he knew it was truly over. Snape was gone, and he wouldn't be coming back. He should be whooping for joy.

But instead, he just felt cold and hopeless. He drew his knees tighter against his chest and closed his eyes, trying not to feel crushed by the sudden silence of the apartment. Just moments before there had at least been Snape out in the sitting room, pacing, rustling things, making small sounds.

In his absence, the stillness was deafening. And everything was wrong. Snape was gone, and his mother was hurting, reeling from two betrayals of her trust. And here he sat, alone in his room, sequestered like a misbehaving child, unable to do anything to make it right again.

But what could he possibly do? He couldn't leave it at this. He couldn't simply accept that his mother would divorce Snape and cut the man out of her life, and then go back to her long silences and poorly-concealed melancholy. There had to be a way to fix this, something he could do.

Because damn it, he had been the only one hurt by Snape's behavior. And it wasn't as if he were a baby, really. He could take it. Sure, the man had been unfair and annoying and downright nasty at times, but it wasn't as if the man had physically struck him or done any permanent damage. Not even to Harry's self-esteem, really, because he'd learned pretty quickly to ignore the potions master completely, and resort to the occasional eye roll or huff of annoyance to blow off steam when things got to be too much.

So if Harry could look past all that—and really, who was to say he wasn't stronger for having endured it?—why couldn't his mother do the same? Snape was cunning enough to whip up a really good apology. He could lay it on thick, humble himself in front of Lily, apologize to Harry, and things would be right as rain in no time.

And after that the man would be forced to be more discreet and tempered in exercising his prejudices. And that would make life so much easier for Harry.

If Harry could just convince his mother to see things that way.

The soft, tentative knock on his door startled him out of his contemplations.

"Mum?" Harry called hesitantly.

The door swung in, and Lily entered, arms wrapped around her chest, her eyes already red-rimmed and her cheeks streaked with tears. "Oh, Harry…."

Harry rose instinctively from the bed and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She hugged him back, her arms tight with desperation.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered brokenly into his hair. "I was such a fool—"

"I should have told you," Harry argued, shame coursing through him yet again. "But—"

"No, I never should have let that bastard near you. That childish, pathetic, sorry excuse—"

"Mum, really, it's all right," Harry protested. "Everything's fine. Just because he wasn't nice—"

"He purposely sabotaged you! And I'm sure he ridiculed you and humiliated you and did whatever he could to make you unhappy. I should have known that he could never see anything but James in you. Oh, I convinced myself that he'd matured, and that his bitterness toward James was just the old hurts festering, that it never meant anything. I saw what I wanted to see in him. I let myself be blinded, and you paid the price.

"I'm going to speak to Albus, and we'll see what he has to say about this. Honestly, I've half a mind to pull you out of the man's class and tutor you myself! I cannot believe that he would so blatantly abuse his position… and to think that I ever believed he might be something more to you, if you just gave him a chance."

Harry swallowed thickly and pulled back from his mother slightly so that he could gaze up into her tear-filled eyes. He had to do this. He had to make her understand. "He's not perfect."

Lily scoffed derisively. "That's putting it lightly."

"No, Mum, hear me out." Harry drew in a deep breath, desperately trying to pull his words together. Could he do this? Could he make an impassioned defense for the man who'd tormented him mercilessly?

Well, he had to try. And he would try again and again if it came down to it.

"You told me that he had a rough childhood."

Lily's lips thinned as she regarded her son. "That is not an excuse. Your friend Neville had a rough childhood. You have had a rough childhood. Yet you have not exhibited even an ounce of the petty vindictiveness—"

"Neville has his Gran, Mum. And I've had you. Did Snape have anyone like that? Because… because I get the impression that he didn't." And before his mum could interrupt, Harry hastily continued, "And that makes all the difference, see? You told me that he's so mean to protect himself. And you're all he's ever had, Mum, and he's scared to death of losing you."

Harry didn't know where these words were coming from. They just spilled past his lips, and he was grateful for that, because he had no idea how to make a case for someone he hated and would gladly send to the bottom of the Black Lake to live with the giant squid.

Though that wasn't entirely true. Because as he spoke, he felt the truth of the words, and he felt a strange sort of sympathy for the man he was defending.

"I… I get how he feels, I think, because I felt the same way when you first started seeing him. You're all I have left, you know. I mean, I've got Uncle Remus, sure, and my friends, and lots of other people who care about me, but you're my only close family. We've always had each other. And when Snape showed up, I thought… I thought it meant I was going to lose some of you, maybe all of you. I didn't want to share.

"And worse, I was worried that you'd be closer to him, because you got to choose him, but you were stuck with me—"

"Harry!" Lily exclaimed, horrified. "Don't ever think that! You're my son; I was not stuck with you—"

"I know," Harry soothed her, burying himself against his mother and squeezing her tight again for a moment. It was stupid, he thought, but it felt so good to get that off his chest. "I know that. I know it's ridiculous to even think that… but that didn't matter, because it didn't change how I felt. And Snape probably felt the same way. But he really had a reason to think he might lose you, you know, because you ignored him for so long, and he's made bad choices, and he has no real claim on you. I do.

"I think that maybe, on some subconscious level, he thought that keeping you angry or disappointed with me would keep me from pulling you away from him. He doesn't have anyone he can take for granted, Mum. And yes, he was awful to me, and it wasn't right, but… but I don't think it was because he enjoyed hurting me."

Harry had to swallow hard then, in an effort to regain control of his voice. How long had he been thinking all this? Because he knew that he wasn't coming up with it on the fly. And he'd been too angry with Snape lately to even contemplate any kind of sympathy.

But everything he was saying now, it all felt so right. Because every time Snape scored a point, every time he made a cutting remark or sabotaged Harry in class or did any other awful thing, it didn't feel like the man was tormenting Harry Potter. It felt like the man was trying to exorcise the ghost of James, young and reckless and inconsiderate, James who had been a vicious bully before the real casualties of the war had hit and he'd felt loss and grown the hell up.

And when it wasn't James' ghost that haunted Snape, it was the possibility of not being enough for Lily, who already had her famous son, who was the world to her.

"Harry," Lily murmured, her voice hoarse. She carded a delicate hand through her son's hair, the gesture greedy and desperate. "Harry, he hurt you. And whatever his excuse, whether he enjoyed it or not—it's unforgivable. I don't know if I can forgive myself for letting him, let alone… let alone Severus…."

Harry forced himself to draw a deep breath. Part of him very much wanted to agree with his mother. Part of him never wanted to see Snape's face again, wanted to plead with his mother to make good on her threat to tutor him privately in potions….

But the larger part of him, the more noble part, knew that doing so would help no one. Not even Harry. Because whether he liked it or not, he couldn't completely hate anyone who cared so deeply about his mum. And Snape clearly did. He'd healed her of hurts that Harry was helpless to understand, and he'd propped her up during the days when the grief and guilt were the worst.

And a man who could do that for Lily had to have redeeming qualities, had to have some reason for his bitter hatefulness. And whether Harry truly understood those reasons or not, he felt that he did, and that was enough.

"I hope you can forgive him," Harry answered, fighting to keep his voice even. "That's what you've taught me, that everyone deserves forgiveness and second chances. That we're all human, and we all make mistakes. You told me you had to give Dad a second chance, right? That there was a time when he was someone you would have been ashamed to have been seen with?"

Lily drew back a little, her green eyes filled with defensiveness and shame. "I… Harry, he was fifteen, sixteen—"

"And he came from a loving home, right? And he had good friends and was well-liked and had plenty of money and was in Gryffindor, where everyone was against the Dark Arts and Voldemort." Harry's stomach tightened as he listed his dad's traits. It was hard, and he never really liked to bring the man up at all, especially not like this. He knew it hurt his mum awfully.

Still. Lily had thought it important enough that Harry remember his father as human—brave and compassionate, willing to give his life to save his wife and child, his love so powerful that it manifested as sacrificial blood magic. But he'd made mistakes, too, especially when he was young, Lily told him. He'd been a cruel and vicious bully for years, and it had taken him a while to grow up and leave all that behind him. And Merlin help Harry if he ever started to act like that.

Harry hadn't liked hearing all that, not at all. It had seemed disrespectful to the dead, for one, which he'd told his mother rather adamantly the first time she'd brought it up. But she'd insisted that it wasn't, that knowing that James had been less than perfect didn't diminish her love for him at all. Everyone made mistakes, she'd said, and would continue to make mistakes, because that was just the way things were. The only way forward was recognizing those mistakes and trying to make up for them, trying to do better. And that meant you had to give people a chance to make up for things and to do better.

And Harry had understood, with time, that it was better to know about his dad and all his faults than to think of the man as some inhuman saint who'd never done wrong. The man's memory felt closer somehow.

Still, it soured Harry's stomach to dredge all this up now in order to make an argument for the likes of Severus Snape. But it was a powerful argument, he knew, and likely one that would succeed at healing the relationship between his mother and the Potions Master.

"Dad should have known better sooner. You can't judge them the same at all. And… and he didn't hurt me, Mum, not really. Sticks and stones, right? That's what you always tell me."

"When children your age are throwing stupid names at you, not when an adult—your professor—is verbally abusing you in front of other students—"

"It wasn't so bad," Harry told her firmly. "I never let it get to me. And I bet he had it much worse at my age. Didn't he?"

Lily sighed and shook her head slightly. "Maybe so, but…."

"He would do anything for you, Mum. He loves you. I never liked it really, but… but I could see that he meant it. That he would never hurt you—"

"Harry, he mistreated you. He knew—"

"We don't always do what's right, even when we want to. Sometimes… sometimes we hurt too much, and…." Harry shook his head to himself, struggling to find the right words. "I'm not trying to excuse him. I'm just saying… don't give up on him, not yet. Please."

Lily was silent for a long stretch. Harry thought he'd lost the argument, and laid his head against his mother's shoulder in defeat, trying to forcefully beat down all the conflicting emotions rising in his chest.

They stood like that for a while, locked together, leaning into each other. Harry forced his mind to focus on the physical—the warmth of his mother, the softness of her skin where he pressed his face against her, just at the crook of her neck. The sweet, familiar smell of her soap—lilac—that shrouded her, not cloying but faint, like a rich summer breeze. The feel of her chest rising and falling.

"Why, Harry?" Lily asked after what felt like ages. "After everything… I told you that you can't sacrifice yourself to protect me. I won't let that happen. I am the parent, you are the child, and your happiness and safety and education come before anything."

Harry reached for his mother's hands, squeezing them in the same way that she always squeezed his when he was in need of reassurance. "Because it's the right thing to do. And because holding a grudge and pushing him away… it'll just be painful and hard, and it will make everyone unhappy. And because I believe he can change."

Lily's thumbs automatically began to rub gentle, soothing circles in on the backs of Harry's hands. Harry felt his mother swallow once, twice. Then she spoke.

"I'll speak to him. Ask him what the hell he thought he was doing…." She seemed to be speaking to herself more than to Harry. "Not now. Now I need time to… to think. To calm down."

Harry said nothing, feeling that there was nothing to say. He'd gotten his mother to speak to the man again. Either Snape would prove that he could do better, or Harry had just bought the man enough rope to hang himself. It wasn't as if he could Floo over to the dungeons and coach the man on what he should say to make things right.

"I don't know how you can forgive him," Lily burst out suddenly, pulling back again to examine her son. She looked tired and careworn; her face seemed to be more lined than Harry ever remembered seeing it.

Harry looked away. "Forgiving him isn't the same as giving him a chance to earn forgiveness," he muttered, unable to keep a tinge of bitterness from his words.

Lily studied him for a moment longer. Then she nodded resolutely before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'll write to him if you're sure about this. Because if you just say the word, I will make certain he never steps foot in our home again. I mean it. Forgiveness is all well and good, but no one hurts my child."

"It's okay, Mum. Really. Besides, putting up with him being, well, that way, taught me a lot of self-control and all, right? So it's not entirely bad."

Lily hummed in response, the sound more disapproving than anything. "It taught you a lot about lying, too, didn't it?"

Shame washed over Harry. "I'm sorry I lied about stuff, but—"

"No, no 'but'. We'll discuss that later, though." At last Lily released her son, sighing as she did so. "Right now… I think I need a Headache Draught and a little lie-down. Do you need anything, Harry?"

Harry shook his head.

"I'll make lunch in a little while." She smoothed a hand over Harry's brow, brushing his fringe back from his eyes. "Come get me if you need anything." She kissed his forehead again, and then left him.

Harry flopped back onto his bed, feeling more confused than ever. Especially about what his mum had said. She was right; how in Merlin's name could he forgive Snape? And where had all that tripe come from, anyway? It had seemed natural when it had started pouring out. He was pretty sure he believed it all on some level, that Snape had a pretty messed up life and couldn't be held up to the same standards as others. That, on principal, it was the noble and right thing to do, to give people chances to change and be better. There was some Muggle thing about turning the other cheek and such….

Not that his revelations about Snape had him feeling all warm and fuzzy about the man. It wasn't like he was about to start calling him "Severus" and acting all chummy. No, the most he could hope for now was a cessation of hostilities.

Because he didn't really think that Snape could be sorry, not for the right reasons. He'd be upset that he'd lost control of himself, maybe. That he'd been so blatant about his hatred, that he hadn't been able to hide it. He wasn't about to regret the hatred itself.

But that was fine. It wasn't like Harry was in the market for a father figure. If he was that desperate, he'd sooner take to Filch than Severus Snape. They'd have a frosty, cordial relationship, and that would be more than enough to keep the peace around Lily.

Now if Harry could somehow find a way to have faith that Snape could manage even that little bit—civility for his stepson, and only for his wife's sake.

Harry shook his head to himself. It seemed more likely for Malfoy to formally request Hermione's hand in marriage.

The thought of Hermione reminded him of his friend's offers to be on standby for owl post. And if ever there were a time to vent…. Harry dragged himself over to his desk, where he started what he knew would be a very long and likely rambling letter to Ron and Hermione.

A/N: Hello all! Thank you for your interest in this story. But to give credit where credit is due, I must admit that I was very inspired to write this story by MoonlitSunshine's WIP Fatherly Enmity. After reading this and Never Say Remember by Malora (lovely fic, AU with parallel worlds, lots of Sev/Lily/Harry, beautifully written, highly recommend), I was dying to write a fic with Lily in the picture, and Snape as a wicked stepfather archetype. So, I hope I am doing the characters justice. I am striving for balance-three very imperfect main characters, lovable for their strengths and flaws, struggling to carve out a family despite their circumstances. I will admit that later chapters will be focusing more heavily on the Harry/Severus dynamic.

To answer a few questions:

Yes, Sirius will be coming into play. I know it's not very clear what all is going on (originally this was going to be a one-shot with no explanations or development that would never leave my hard drive). So far, yes, Sirius was presumed to have betrayed the Potters and was carted off to Azkaban without trial. Lily and Remus, having suffered such a major upheaval, grieving for the loss of two friends, cut off all contact and refuse to receive any kind of correspondence. But, as in canon, Sirius has found his motive for breaking out-the picture of Pettigrew, in rat form, in the Prophet. I delayed the timeline for convenience's sake, but yes, Sirius will eventually be making an appearance.

Remus is filling the DADA post. He and Harry have a uncle/nephew or godfather/godson dynamic, though Harry has been distancing himself because he has feared that Remus would pick up on Snape's treatment of him and run to Lily. Obviously, Harry knows about his lycanthropy already, since in my AU the very gifted and generous Lily would personally brew Remus' Wolfsbane for him.

Someone asked about Harry's Cleansweep and the loads of galleon's he's sure to have. One, Harry never blows his money on anything extravagant in canon, even though he has full access to his vault. Two, Lily has financial control over the Potter vaults (and any other sources of money), and having grown up in a middle-class home, likely only modestly well-off and unaccustomed to opulence, I'm assuming that she would tend to spend money conservatively and err on the side of not spoiling her son (the exact opposite of her sister, in fact). So I'm comfortable with our young Harry having a standard broom model rather than something top-of-the-line (though there is a Firebolt coming, of course...)

For those of you wondering, yes, we have reached the turning point with Snape's (as one reviewer so eloquently phrased it) acting like a dick. The end goal of this fic is reaching some semblance of a "happy family", and we have finally and definitively pointed in that direction.

To end this ridiculous essay, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone reading/following/favoriting and, especially, reviewing. Your comments do motivate me (read: guilt me) to write more, and churn out chapters faster, so please keep them coming. Cheers!