His stomach hurt.

James knew when he made that deal with Mulciber that he might lose Lily forever. That's okay, he told himself. As long as she's safe and free. His dad once told him that he knew it was true love when he met his mother because her well-being meant more to him than his own happiness, and if that meant giving her up then he would do it. James's love for Lily was true and pure; he had destroyed his relationship with her for her own sake, but it still hurt. He might throw up. This twisting, squirming anxiety curling in his intestines made James bite his lip until it bled.

He was sitting on the edge of Black Lake, the setting of what was meant to be his final victory, where he had finally banished that slimy snake from Lily's life forever. Only Snivellus had somehow crawled back into her life, forcing James to... to... That's not how it was supposed to go, James thought. What's the point of it all if I can't have Lily?

So tangled in his own thoughts was he, that he didn't notice the shadow that had fallen over him. "James," a voice spoke and James looked up to see the Headmaster staring down at him with a pitiful expression. The wind rippled through his garish robes and he held a mug of something hot and steaming in his hands. He offered it to James. "You must be freezing, my boy."

He was. He'd left his cloak inside. But it didn't matter; he hadn't even noticed. James took the offered mug, peering down at the warm brown liquid cradled in his hands, but he didn't drink. He heard the Headmaster sigh. "Well, you've certainly made a mess of things."

That managed to provoke a response from James. "I did what was right!"

"What do you know of right and wrong? Did you imagine yourself riding into that chamber on a white steed to rescue the helpless girl from the evil dragon? James, there is no girl." James flinched and looked back down at the mug while the Headmaster pressed on. "Lily Evans is a man and he doesn't need rescuing. He will never be the wife you want him to be. I am sure, if things hadn't played out the way they did, Mr Evans might have gone on pretending to be a woman, might have married you, might have even given you children. But he wouldn't have been happy, because that Lily Evans would only ever be an illusion."

James was clutching the mug so hard he was worried it might shatter. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to accept that all of it, everything he had done since coming to this school, was only a fantasy.

"Mr Evans doesn't need your help," the Headmaster persisted, twisting the knife in a little deeper. "But there is someone who does."

James looked up at him and the Headmaster smiled. "Severus Snape."

James felt his face twist in disgust and the Headmaster tutted. "Now, now, James, none of that. Why don't you take a sip of your hot chocolate? It will make you feel better."

Dumbledore waited until James had taken a long pull of the mug before continuing. The hot chocolate had an almost acrid, smoky smell that reminded him of the dungeons, but it tasted sweet and the moment the liquid hit his stomach he felt the pain ease. He grew relaxed and calm and it was chilly, wasn't it? He took another sip of his hot drink.

"Voldemort has enslaved Severus against his will and seeks to use his family magic to destroy Hogwarts. We can't allow that to happen, James," the Headmaster said. "He needs to be protected. We cannot allow any of Voldemort's followers to win him and gain access to his magic. You are a strong and capable duelist; you could protect him."

He could, couldn't he? But why would I even want to? A petulant voice whined in the back of his head, but it was distant and foggy. He thought about the way Snape had looked down at the Dueling Ground, the way his large, black eyes had stared at him, wide and disbelieving. He wasn't that bad looking, was he? Nothing like Lily, but… Lily didn't look like Lily anymore. She… he… how could James have ever found her attractive? It was the makeup and long hair. It hid all of her flaws and now he… now she… well, it didn't matter anymore.

And Sni-Sev-Snape… What was James supposed to do with him? Okay, alright, maybe he wasn't exactly as ugly as James had always claimed. He only said that because he didn't want Lily getting any ideas about him. Most of Snape's flaws could be improved with a little bit of money, and he did have nice eyes. Lovely eyes. The way he flicked his gaze over people…

But there was his personality. Always so bitter and vicious towards James. To everyone who wasn't Lily. Lily. Why was Lily so special? Why did Severus only ever smile at Lily? James felt something lick up from his stomach and ignite his heart. An emotion that was at once familiar and strange, because he had felt it often whenever he saw Lily and Severus together. Jealousy. He was jealous. Of Lily. Because he wanted Snape.

James vaguely realized that the Headmaster was speaking as the mug was taken from his slack hands. "I never wanted to hurt anyone," Dumbledore said, his voice soft and whispery. "Everything I do is to protect this school. You'll forgive me in time, I'm sure." What was he going on about? Didn't he realize that James was undergoing an epiphany right at that moment? All this time he had gone after Lily because he couldn't accept that the real person he was in love with, the person he had always loved, was a Slytherin. That's why he had bullied him, that's why he could never just leave him alone. Merlin, he had treated Severus abominably. He had to make it up to him. He had to prove to him that he would never hurt him again.

"Do you want to see Severus?" The Headmaster asked and it was the first thing the old man had said that made sense

"Yes, I need– I need to tell him–" James stumbled to his feet, his brain in a fog. The Headmaster smiled.

"It's alright, James. I understand. He's waiting for you in my office. Follow me."

He did as the Headmaster commanded, following him up the stairs to his office and then waiting outside the door on his orders, but the moment he heard him say, "James has decided to keep you," he couldn't wait a second longer. He pushed open the door and saw Severus, eyes blown wide at the sight of him. How could he have ever thought he was ugly? James took a step forward, and Severus a step back so that he was almost hiding behind Rosier.

"Severus," James said– did he say that? His voice sounded wrecked. "I'm so, so sor–"

"Stay back!" Severus barked and ducked further behind Rosier as James approached. They wound around the other boy, a game of ring around the Rosier, while the Slytherin could only twist around in circles, hands raised in an attempt to calm them both.

"Potter–" Rosier said.

"Shut up, I'm not talking to you," James snapped before refocusing his attention on Severus. "Will you stop for a moment? I'm trying to apologize. I didn't realize– I mean, if I had known– I'm sorry."

"You're not," Severus insisted, his arms wrapped protectively around his torso. "You're never sorry. Stop saying that."

Severus stumbled, his foot catching Rosier's, and the other Slytherin steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. That spark of jealousy inside James lit up the sight. He wanted to be the one to help Severus, not fucking Rosier of all people. Severus was a half-blood, why would Rosier want anything to do with him anyway?

"You okay?" Rosier asked, his hand still on Severus's shoulder. "Still hurting?"

Hurting? Severus was hurt? James noticed that his arms weren't guarding his stomach like he'd thought, but almost pressing into it. Was it his core again?

"Are you in pain, Severus?" The Headmaster asked, coming forward.

Severus practically snarled at him. Snarled! At Headmaster Albus Dumbledore! James thought the Sorting Hat chose wrong, because if that wasn't bravery then nothing was. "What's it to you?"

"The wellbeing of my students is always a concern of mine." Severus snorted at that, but Dumbledore continued blithely on as if he hadn't heard. "James, why don't you take Severus to the hospital wing? Mr Rosier, please stay here. I would like to discuss with you the events that occurred today when I return."

James latched on to Severus's arm and pulled him from Rosier's grasp. Rosier made to march after them but halted, bouncing against some invisible barrier that blocked his access to the exit. The Headmaster leveled a look at Rosier before closing the door behind him, hiding the Slytherin from James's sight.

Severus was squirming in James's grip. He was skinny, far too skinny. He needed a good meal or ten. "Let go of me!" Severus growled. "What is wrong with you? Did you drink a love potion or something? I swear, Potter, if you don't let go this instant–"

James had to practically frog march Severus down the winding, circular staircase, the Headmaster walking smoothly behind them. Severus suddenly dug his heels into the floor and shrieked, "STOP!" right before James could step onto the Grand Staircase.

"What's wrong?" He asked, genuinely concerned. His tone was different from the usual token protests he had been sputtering since they left the Headmaster's office, and James noticed it immediately.

"Use your eyes, you idiot! The stairs are frozen."

James looked and realized that it was frozen. The Grand Staircase's movable, interlocking structure – Rowena Ravenclaw's pride and joy – was frozen mid-turn, trapping students on different sections.

"Headmaster?" James asked, turning to look behind him. The Headmaster's face was shadowed and dark. He pulled out his wand and flicked it toward the individual pieces, forcing them to move with his own magic, but instead of gliding smoothly, they groaned with the burden of their own weight.

"Students, please refrain from using the Grand Staircase for the time being. There are other, smaller staircases that can be used. I promise no points will be deducted for tardiness until this issue can be resolved," the Headmaster announced when the last student was safely on firm ground. He waved his wand again and yellow tape sprung from the end, wrapping themselves around the balusters, condoning the Grand Staircase off with a neat little sign that said, "Temporarily Out of Service."

"Headmaster–" James tried again, but the Headmaster cut him off.

"Take Severus to the infirmary. He's your priority right now." And then he was off, walking quickly in the direction of the dungeon and leaving Severus still squirming in James's arms.


Lily pressed his ear against the smooth stone wall down in the Dueling Ground. He knocked on it and said, "It sounds different from the other walls. It sounds hollow. I think the wall is thinner here too." The stone was cold against his ear. Regulus was standing next to him, his arms folded, and just beyond his shoulder Lily could see a white mist lingering in the corner, the figure of a bride hovering just at the edge of his vision. Regulus, if he saw her, took no notice of the ghost.

"We can always just tear away the blocks," he suggested and lifted his wand. It took them several long minutes to work away four or five stones from the top. They didn't want to risk using Confrigo and potentially damage whatever was hidden back there, and if there was a wizard bricklayer somewhere out in the world with a whole host of brick-laying and brick-removing spells neither Lily nor Regulus knew of them. It took time and delicate maneuvering, they removed enough to dig out a little hole. Lily was right. There was a room behind the wall, maybe more than just a single room. It was hard to tell. It was pitch black inside, and not even the flickering torches that surrounded them could penetrate that darkness.

"Give me a boost," Lily commanded, and Regulus – either too curious himself to argue with a Muggleborn, or simply too used to following orders – knelt down and provided a cradle for Lily's foot with his hands. Lily stepped into the cradle and Regulus heaved, lifting Lily upward so that he could peek into the hole.

"Lumos."

Light erupted inside and Lily could see it wasn't a room per se, more like a tomb, hardly big enough to hold two or three people. A sniffle rose up and Lily looked down and saw a young woman crouched low behind the wall, crying. She had beautiful, midnight black hair and there was a wreath of blossoms twisted in the long tresses. So similar to the bride standing in the corner, still silently watching them. She looked up at Lily and his heart broke at the sight of her. Those large dark eyes, wet with tears, reminded him so much of Sev. "Hey, it's okay, you're safe now, we're going to get you out of there," Lily soothed and leaned over to reach out with his hand.

"What?" He heard Regulus's muffled voice from somewhere below him. "What are you talking about? Is there something in there?"

Lily ignored him and smiled at the woman as she hesitantly lifted her hand toward Lily's outstretched fingers. "That's it. Just take my hand. You've got it." Her ice cold fingers touched his and for a brief moment Lily found himself in another place, in another time. A different castle, a non-magical one.

There was the bride from earlier, the one watching them from the corner of the room, but she wasn't a bride here. Mildred, his mind supplied, the name springing up not from memory but from his core. Her magic felt the same as Sev's, and Lily's reached out to meet hers in yearning for the missing piece that had just recently been torn away. Gone was Mildred's wreath of blossoms. Her hair was now hidden underneath a white veil and she sat on the ledge of a window, looking out into a garden filled with roses. There was a man standing next to her, holding her hand, and although they spoke a language Lily never heard before, he understood it perfectly.

"They say Lord FitzGilbert has imprisoned Godric Gryffindor at Tonbridge," Mildred said as she allowed the man to press a kiss against her knuckles. This man, this Louis le Prince, was not exactly handsome, but he cut a rather dashing figure in his armor. "Did you know he is my uncle by marriage?"

"Is he? I had no idea. Your family did not attempt to ransom him after the battle?"

Mildred smiled. It wasn't pleasant. "Gryffindor was married to my aunt for only a single night. The wedding was held at Hogwarts. Oh, it wasn't Hogwarts then. Only the foundation had been built. Construction had been stalled for over a year. Lady Ravenclaw's magic wasn't enough to sustain the charms she wanted. My father told me stories about it. He was only a boy of fourteen, but he had gone with his sister Rosalind to see her wed. It was a night of drinking and carousing. Salazar Slytherin was there, and the ladies Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. From what my father told me, Rowena Ravenclaw spent the evening glowering in a corner. Gryffindor himself looked none too pleased with the arrangement.

"It wasn't long before Gryffindor and my Aunt Rosalind retired to their tent. The entire wedding party soon fell into a drunken stupor. No one was awake. No one heard anything, not until the morning when Gryffindor came out of the tent raving that my aunt had run off with another man in the middle of the night. She was gone. No one could find her. Gryffindor demanded the return of her bride price and my grandfather was forced to pay him."

Mildred laughed a little. "It wasn't long after that my family heard Ravenclaw had birthed a bastard daughter and who should be accused of fathering the little whelp? Why none other than Godric Gryffindor himself! Everything worked out so splendidly for her, didn't it? Hogwarts was finally completed and it now rivals even the House of Wisdom in Baghdad. Oh, but there was that unfortunate business with her daughter running away, her murder, and Lady Ravenclaw's subsequent death of a broken heart. One would think the family was cursed after a tragedy like that." Mildred looked up at Louis with large, dark eyes dancing with mirth. "You wish to marry me, my lord? I need no jewels from you. Bring me the head of Godric Gryffindor and I will accept that as a betrothal ring."

Lily felt himself thrown back, the vision fading, as Regulus dropped him. Lily landed on his backside with a grunt. He could hear Regulus talking with someone he vaguely recognized as Dumbledore, but all his attention was focused on his hand, where he clutched a withered, mummified finger that had been broken off at the knuckle.