A/N

As someone who cares for my elderly mother (who would seriously whack me about the head for calling her as such), but also has many friends that are in their later years, the reality that life is rather finite is a subject that comes up often. It's often joked within the small community I live in that if there isn't an ambulance there at least once a week, we're doomed and the Government's left us to die of some unknown plague/disease/what have ya; left to die isolated and away from the rest of the world like the town of Springfield in that Movie.

However, I had the sad news today that a dear friend of mine had passed, and the realisation that the talks we'd partake in, the hours that would pass us by unknowingly as we lost ourselves to the memories of has-beens, past mistakes, moments that had us laughing until we cried; those conversations, ones wherein we found solace from the harsh realities of life, laughter amidst the pain, and a sense of connection that helped tremendously through the loneliness and isolation of our everyday lives - they would never again occur.

In the face of death, however unexpected or not it has been, it's when anyone would be confronted with the fragility of life and the profound impact that the relationships we hold with those around us do leave upon our hearts. Conversations, the very basis of human communication and society - from the most ancient of carvings upon stone walls, smoke signals that could be seen for miles, or even the very written word we share via paper or online; we help each other navigate through the complexities of existence, weaving through the memories, dreams, and shared experiences that had helped to shape us into the very people we are today.

The very stories I've shared here had come from some of those very conversations between my friend and I; origins lost within the twists and turns of the outrageously crazy yet defining moments we had once shared together. And to now feel as though they're to become nothing but cherished memories, fragments of a shared journey that will only continue to resonate within the recesses of my own mind, it's hard to fathom the reality of a tomorrow without them when it was only the day before yesterday they'd helped put the very story I'd posted last night on the right track.

While they may not be here physically anymore, I am however grateful that the stories they'd shared are able to live on in the memories I hold dear, and that our time together, the lessons that I've learnt, can be honoured in a way I hope makes them proud.

I hope you enjoy, my friend, wherever it is you may be. I may continuously disagreed with this pairing on more than one occasion, but figured I could bend the rules for you - if only the once.


Warning - will not have a straightforward ending, as should be expected of my writing. My friend, as much as I'll miss her, was just as crazy as I, and despite having actually liked the Lily/Severus tag, she was still a twisted dæmoness masquerading as nothing but a little old lady - of that you can be assured.


"Did you lose what won't return?"
"Did you love but never learn?"
"The fire's out but still it burns;"
"And no one cares, there's no one there."

"Did you find it hard to breathe?"
"Did you cry so much that you could barely see?"
"In the darkness all alone;"
"And no one cares, there's no one there."


The room was a sterile cocoon, suffused with the antiseptic scents of magic and potions that mingled with the soft hum of monitoring charms, was but a prison for one Severus Snape, who lay upon the narrow hospital bed, he body weakened by the toxins that coursed through his veins. Yet his mind was active, a tumultuous activity of memories and regrets that were being threatened with the fate of oblivion as his body was ravaged by Nagini's most potent of venom.

He was alone, as he had always been - always would be, surrounded by the shadows of the night and a silence that only the dying could welcome; his only companions that of the very ghosts threatening to disappear within the darkest recesses of his mind; each one a mocking reminder of the failures, the mistakes, the people he had lost.

Obsidian eyes disappeared behind pale lids, hiding from the harsh glare of the overhead light and seeking what solace they could find within the dark; just wishing it would envelope him within is ominous shroud. He was tired, so very tired, weary to the bone with the weight of his sins.

His life stretched out before him like a vast tapestry within his mind, woven by the very threads of pain and betrayal, of love and loss. He'd been nothing but a pawn in a game he'd never had the chance of winning, a poker chip hidden up the sleeve of a manipulative bastard who though he could count the cards and revealed for what it was during a time when the stakes were at their most compelling - only to be snatched up by the nervous-faced player with a youthful countenance and royal flush.

He thought of Lily, his Lily; the one and only bright light that was the darkness of his existence. She had been his salvation, his redemption, his complete and utter reason for living. And yet he too had lost her, lost her to a world that had never truly understood her; lost her to a destiny that had been written in the stars at the same time it was handed to her murderer upon a silver platter.

He remembered her laughter, like the silver bells on a summers breeze; her smile, like the sunshine breaking through the clouds. He remembered the way her fiery hair had shone in the moonlight, the way her emerald-green eyes had sparkled with such mischief and mirth. He remembered the sound of her voice, the soft and gentle lullaby that did soothe the pain that gnawed at his soul.

But most of all, he remembered the moment when he had lost her forever, the moment when he had sealed their fates with a single word spewed in hatred.

"Mudblood."

The word had hung between them like a blade, sharp and deadly - slicing through the fragile bonds of their friendship and trust. It had been something said in anger, in frustration, in a moment of weakness that would haunt Severus until the very end of his days.

And yet, even as the word had left his lips, the wizard had known that it would be something he could never take back, could never undo the damage it had undoubtedly caused. He had betrayed Lily, betrayed everything that she had stood for, everything that she believed in - everything that made her the very witch she was. And for what? A cause that had not even been his own, for a man who had used him, manipulated him before casting him aside like a useless pawn on a chessboard? For a chance at redemption that had never come, a chance at forgiveness that had always remained just out of reach; forever from his grasp.

He had dedicated his life to the fight against Voldemort, had sacrificed everything for a cause he hadn't even believed in. And yet, in the end, it had still been for naught, his efforts wasted, his sacrifices in vain.

Severus sighed, a heavy, weary sound that both seemed to echo through the empty room and reveal just how close he was to succumbing to the cold embrace of death; the pain he'd feared somewhat in the dark recesses of his subconscious to appear with the use of such muscles never appearing as a cold numbness instead begun to originate from his neck and slowly work its way south; nothing but a cold comfort before the world would finally allow him his peace and he could sleep the eternal sleep.

He was so tired of fighting, so tired of struggling against the relentless tide of fate. He was just so ready to let go, ready to embrace the darkness that beckoned him like an old friend.

But even as he lay there, on the very precipice of oblivion, Severus knew that there was one last thing that he had to do. One last person that he had to see, one last confession that he had to make.

For there had been one thing that had always eluded him, one truth that he'd never dared to speak aloud. And as the darkness begun to close in around him, Severus knew that it was time to face the truth, to confront the demons that had haunted him for so long.

He closed his eyes once more, summoning all of his strength, all of his courage, for the journey he knew to lay ahead. He could feel Nagini's venom coursing through his veins even as that cold, creeping sensation continued to numb his limbs and cloud his thoughts. But he pushed is all aside, pushed it down into the depths of his very being and where it could no longer reach him, for he still had one last task to complete, one last chance to set things right.

And as he drifted into the Sandman's embrace, Severus whispered a single word; a name that held more power than any spell, more weight than any curse that had ever passed his lips.

"Lily."


"Well, did you see the flares in the sky?"
"Were you blinded by the light?"
"Did you feel the smoke in your eyes, did you, did you?"
"Did you see the sparks, feel the hope?"
"You are not alone, 'cause someone's out there,"
"Sending out flares."


The corridors of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries echoed faintly with the hushed whispers of healers and the occasional shuffle of patients in their slippers. Yet Hermione Granger moved with purpose, her strides measured but brisk, her mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

As she walked, the scent of potions mingled with the fresh tang of magic in the air, triggering a flood of recollections from her years at Hogwarts. She remembered the dark corridors of the dungeons and the room wherein she, Harry, and Ron had brewed countless cauldrons of potions, each batch fraught with its own set of challenges and mishaps.

Potions.

The very thought of the subject sent a shiver down Hermione's spine, a mixture of fascination and apprehension. It was a field of unparalleled complexity, requiring a delicate balance of ingredients, an exacting brewing process, and magic; something far more multifaceted than that of even the advanced Chemistry she had touched upon during her muggle schooling.

Hermione's train of thought jumped tracks and steamrolled towards one dark yet mysterious Potions Master, whose presence did loom larger than life within her memories. Severus Snape, with his billowing dark robes and piercing brown, almost black eyes, had been a constant presence at Hogwarts; a figure who was both feared and revered by students and staff alike. He had been a mentor, a tormentor, a hero, and a villain; his true motives shrouded in the utmost secrecy until the very end.

But now, the former Headmaster of Hogwarts lay in a hospital bed, his once-formidable frame weakened by the venom that coursed through his veins. Hermione had heard the news through the grapevine, the whispered rumours that had spread like wildfire throughout the Wizarding World. Severus Snape, survivor of two wars and reluctant Death Eater turned even more reluctant hero, was dying.

It was a bitter irony, Hermione thought, that the wizard who had cheated death so many times before should now find himself pounding against death's door with no hope of reprieve. And yet, as she walked through the sterile corridors of St Mungo's, Hermione felt a flicker of something akin to pity stir within her.

She'd known the Professor, albeit imperfectly, as a student knows one's teacher. She had seen his brilliance, his cruelty, his unwavering loyalty to a cause that was not even his own. She had glimpsed upon the unfathomable depths of his sorrow, the weight of his regrets, and the burdens of his secrets. And although their relationship - if it could even be called as such - had been fraught with tension and mistrust, Hermione couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow at the thought of the wizard's imminent demise.

But there was something else she felt, something deeper and more complicated than mere pity. There was a debt she felt owed, one of gratitude that Hermione knew she could never fully repay. Severus Snape had saved her life, more times than she cared to count, his actions a silent testament to a courage that few could comprehend.

And so, as she rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the door she knew would lead to the Potions Master, Hermione finally came to a decision. Born of desperation or defiance, she may never know; but for a desire to make amends for past wrongs?

If she could give the wizard who'd done so much and received so little in return, one last act of kindness to ease his passage into the next world, then who was she to deny him that opportunity.

Reaching into her beaded bag and withdrawing a small vial, its contents shimmering in the dim light of the corridor, Hermione's chocolate-brown eyes narrowed.

Polyjuice Potion, brewed to perfection - if she had researched the Potions Master's notes correctly; all his meticulously tinkered adjustments and changes to an already complex concoction. It was a special blend, she knew, a brew of rare herbs and exotic ingredients that only one Severus Snape could have ultimately devised.

With trembling hands, Hermione uncorked the vial and raised it to her lips, steeling herself for what she knew was to come. She took a deep breath, the familiar tang of potent ingredients filling her nostrils - and threw back the bitter liquid in one swift gulp.


"Did you break but never mend?"
"Did it hurt so much that you thought it was the end?"
"Lose your heart but don't know when;"
"And no one cares, there's no one there."


The crisp autumn air brought with it a chill that foretold the coming winter as it swirled through the turrets and spires of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; a castle that stood as formidable silhouette against the darkening sky. However, the ancient grounds, usually tranquil in the fading light, bore witness to a scene of unsettling violence as, among the fallen leaves and tangled underbrush, lay Severus Snape; his once-pale complexion shadowed with the streaks of his own blood whilst ragged, rattled breaths escaped his cracked and bleeding lips.

Lily Evans (of all the people) stumbled upon the scene, her heart seizing inside her chest at the sight of her former friend lying broken and bruised on the ground. Memories flooded her mind, times of laughter and camaraderie; of whispered secrets and shared dreams - memories that had been stained with the bitterness of betrayal, a tangible reminder of all that had gone wrong between them.

Approaching cautiously, her footsteps but a hesitant beat upon the damp earth as her green eyes scanned the darkness for any sign of danger; unsure of whether Severus' attackers were hanging around or not, the redheaded witch only let out the breath she'd been holding when she realised there was only her ex-friend, his form twisting in agony even as his obsidian eyes met hers with a fierce intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Severus?" she whispered, eyes unable to stop themselves from searching through the dark once more for any possible lurkers. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Pale, bloody lips curled into a bitter smile, something that held more pain than any words could convey. "Who do you think, Lily?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Who else- but your precious Gryffindors; your-" Severus broke off as his eyes squeeze shut, pain rocking his body as each word passed his lips. But he wouldn't stop, not while he was so angry, so hurt! Why did everyone have to stab him in the back, to only use him and entertain his presence until they were bored and tossed him aside like yesterday's news?

"-your noble defenders of truth and justice?" his continued as his eyes reopened, a black so dark having swallowed what light had remained within as he buried his pain, buried his regrets, and let his rage and anguish wash over his soul; the fury he'd always kept contained at having no control over his own life consuming him entirely and so absolutely until nothing remained but the shell of a man that was filled with a tempest so uncontrollable, visible whisps of pure magic begun to leak into the air around him and caused the hairs on the back of Lily's neck to raise - even as she recoiled at the accusation.

Heart aching with a mixture of guilt and anger, green eyes narrowed, however. "That's not fair, Severus," Lily protested, her voice rising in indignation. "You know that's not true."

Severus could only shake his head, his dark eyes blazing with a fire that refused to be extinguished. "Isn't it?" he challenged, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "Tell me, Lily, where were you precious Gryffindors when I needed them most? Where were they when your loving Headmaster cornered me, coerced me - a bloody kid - into getting marked, when I was branded like some common slave all for your 'Greater Good'?"

Lily's breath caught in her throat at the revelation, her mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of what Severus was saying.

Marked?

Branded?

The words echoed in her mind, sending waves of fear and confusion crashing over her. Yet it was as if she couldn't accept what she was hearing, couldn't accept what her once-friend was trying to tell her.

"How?" she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart. "How could you say that, Severus? Why would Albus get you to join him, after everything you've done, you've put us through?"

Severus' laughter cut through the silence like a knife, sharp and cruel and unforgiving. "You really think I did this to myself?" he scoffed. "You think I wanted this? I did this to survive, Lily. I had no choice but to join him."

Lily's heart broke at the desperation that coloured his voice, at the raw pain that was etched into every line of his pale, bloody features. She wanted to believe him, to believe that he was still just the boy she'd once known and grew up with; the boy with whom she'd shared her deepest hopes and fears. But the truth was staring her in the face, plain and undeniable. Severus had chosen his path, had chosen to give into the darkness that tainted his soul instead of starting anew with those aligned with the light; hatred over love. And no amount of pleading or reasoning could change that.

"I should get Madam Pomphrey," the redheaded witch finally said, her voice hollow with resignation. "You need help, Sev. Whether I think you deserve it or not."

But Severus just shook his head, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. "No," he whispered, his voice barely audible even in the silence of the night. "I don't want your pity, Lily. I don't deserve anyone's pity. I made my choice, just as you've made yours, and now we have to live with the consequences."

Lily hesitated, torn between duty and compassion, between the past and the present. But in the end, there really was no choice to be had and she knelt beside Severus, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch his bruised and battered face; something she was ashamed to admit she had rarely, if ever had done in the past - that simple act of friendship, kindness that showed her oldest and dearest friend that she did care.

"You're wrong, Severus Snape," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears as she swallowed down her damning thoughts and just became what Severus needed at that moment of time: the friend and confidant she should have and could have been. "You do deserve my pity. You deserve everyone's pity, because no-one should be treated like this, should be marked like a piece of quality meat."

Her words, however sincere they may have been, seemed to cause a crack to appear in Severus' façade; his eyes flickering with some unnamed emotion that did shine within their depths. And as he leaned into her hands, feeling their warmth through the fog of pain and rage that filled his mind, he could only whisper his thanks inaudibly into the wind.

Words, however, didn't seem to be needed, Lily herself remaining silent as she, with her heart heavy with the weight of what had been lost, of what could never be regained, slowly helped Severus to his feet; movements awkward and clumsy as the unfamiliar actions caused even more unfamiliar emotions to arise.

But as she watched him disappear into the darkness, Severus' bloodied and bruised form being swallowed up by the shadows of the night, Lily knew that this was to be the end. The end of their friendship, of shared dreams, and of all that had once bound them together in the innocence that was youth. And although her heart ached with a sorrow too deep for words at such knowledge, the young witch knew that it was tome to let go. Time to let go of the past, of the pain, of the boy who had once been her best friend yet who she felt she'd failed more than anyone in the world.

For sometimes, she realised, the hardest choices were the ones that set us free. And as she turned away from Severus, from the darkness that had consumed them both, Lily knew that she was finally ready to embrace her future.


"Well, did you see the flares in the sky?"
"Were you blinded by the light?"
"Did you feel the smoke in your eyes, did you, did you?"
"Did you see the sparks, feel the hope?"
"You are not alone, 'cause someone's out there;"
"Sending out flares."
"Someone's out there,"
"Sending out flares..."


Severus Snape awoke with a start, his chest heaving with the remnants of a dream that lingered like a shadow in the darkest corners of his mind. He blinked against the harsh lighting that was being filtered through the curtains, his eyes struggling to adjust to the familiar surroundings of his hospital room.

For a moment, he lay there, disoriented and disconcerted, the memories of his past haunting him like a ghost in the night. He could still imagine her touch, her hands upon his cheeks; feel her presence as if she were right there with him, burning his flesh with a warmth that defied all reasoning.

But it was only a dream, he reminded himself despite the agony it wrought. Nothing but a figment of imagination, a trick of the subconscious mind.

Severus knew that Lily Evans was gone, lost to him forever, her memory a bitter reminder of all that he'd tossed away for the glory of power - and all that he could never hope to regain. Yet, as he lay there in the silence of the hospital room, the wizard felt a strange sensation stirring within him, a sense of unease that did mingle with a flicker of hope whilst being wrapped within a binds of red and gold threads.

Slowly - cautiously - he turned his head, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of life.

And then, to his death-defying astonishment, he felt it!

A hand on his cheek, warm and gentle and of which's touch did send shivers racing down his spine. Eyes darted to look, heart pounding in the confines of a dying chest - and there she was.

"Lily..."

Green eyes shone with an intensity that took his breath away, and he could feel the way her hand trembled slightly against his skin. For a moment, he just gazed at her, a silence so profound with meaning that no words needed to be shared; their history doing all the speaking for them as it wrapped around his minds like a warm veil.

"Severus," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the roaring in his ears - the pounding of his heart.

How long had it been, how long since he had dreamt of exactly this; to hear his name fall from her lips once more?

"I'm sorry," Lily continued - and immediately caused raven brows to crinkle with confusion.

Why is she sor-?

"I'm sorry for everything that happened between us, for all the pain I caused you."

Severus felt a lump form in his throat, the words passing his oldest and dearest friend's lips threatening to choke the very breath from his lungs. He had never expected this, had never dared hope for it, and yet here she was, offering him her forgiveness when he felt he'd done nothing to deserve it.

"I'm sorry too, Lily," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm sorry for the choices I made, for the person I became. I never meant to hurt you, never meant for things to end the way they did.

Lily nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. And her hand, that had still been resting against his cheek moved so she could grasp his own hand instead. "I know, Severus," she said softly yet with understanding. "I know you never meant to hurt me, and I do forgive you - for everything. I should never have pushed you away, should never had allowed myself to be pressured into believing that you, out of anyone, would ever lie to me; would dare willingly harm me."

Severus felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a darkness that he had carried for far too long finally disperse the cobwebs within his heart, and he reached out tentatively with his free hand; hesitant as his fingers brushed against hers in a gesture of tentative reconciliation.

For a moment, they just sat there in silence, lost in the memories of a time long gone; of laughter and friendship and shared dreams. And as the pain of their parting slowly begun to fade, Severus felt something stirring within him, something that he had long thought to be lost.

Peace.

He felt a tranquillity that was so profound that, for the first time in his life, it were as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as if a burden had been lifted from his soul. And though he knew his time was short, that numbing darkness still continuing to close in around him, he felt a strange sense of serenity, a sense of acceptance that he had never known before.

For in that moment, with Lily's hand curled between his own like a lifeline in the storm, Severus knew that he was not alone.

He was not alone, and he was also no longer afraid, for he had found something that he had thought to have been lost forever.

He had, in his final moments, found forgiveness, and with it, the promise of a new beginning. And as he closed his eyes and let the darkness claim him once more, Severus Snape felt a flicker of light ignite within him, a flicker of hope that burned brighter and truer than any darkness the cold embrace of death could provide.


"Did you lose what won't return?"
"Did you love but never learn?"

"Well, did you see the flares in the sky?"
"Were you blinded by the light?"
"Did you feel the smoke in your eyes, did you, did you?"
"Did you see the sparks, feel the hope?"
"You are not alone, 'cause someone's out there;"
"Sending out flares."


The air in Severus Snape's hospital room felt thick with tension as Hermione Granger stood froze for a moment, her whisky-brown eyes wide with disbelief. The façade she wore, so recently that of Lily Evans, was now slowly morphing back into that of the bushy-haired witch's own features; the Polyjuice Potion clearly having run its course. Yet memories, like that of a full-loaded 747 colliding into a mountainside, crashed over Hermione like a wave.

Hermione stumbled backward, the sudden weight of the visions that had plagued her mind crashing down upon her with an unrelenting force; images flashing before her eyes in rapid succession, a kaleidoscope of moments that felt like memories - but weren't her own. Lily and Severus, their faces flashed before her, entangled in a web of destiny, always circling each other like stars caught in the gravity of an unbreakable bond; their lives but intersecting and diverging in a cruel dance as each time there was a promise of connection, it was quickly shattered by unseen forces.

She saw visions of the two meeting and parting in various ways, of untruthful words, passing by disease, of time, and even that of distance; the possibilities seemingly endless yet always leading to the same heartbreak. They were childhood friends, age-old acquaintances who dared wish for something more, and then - always - the looming separation. She saw them standing on opposite sides of many a war, forever caught in the crossfire of battle that tore apart more than just that of the time they did live within.

Tears welled unbidden in Hermione's eyes as she witness so many scenes of longing, of stolen glances and missed opportunities. Each vision held a promise of something more, a chance for both Lily and Severus to bridge the gap that separated them and become something greater - together. But time and time again she watched helplessly as fate intervened, cruelly tearing them apart just as they were on the brink of something deeper.

The witch stumbled out of Severus' room, the weight of the visions settling into her bones and causing breaths to come out in ragged gasps. The hospital corridors stretched endlessly before her, and each step she took seemed to echo with the resonating pain of what she'd witnessed. Yet Hermione also felt something beginning to well within her, a determination building steadily like a fire slowly being fed the unfairness of their shared destiny.

As she emerged into the cool night air, Hermione's mind raced with the possibilities of what she had just glimpsed. Never one for believing in Divination, 'visions' were a rather wide stretch upon what she'd call the memories. Yet she couldn't accept the idea that Lily Evans and Severus Snape had been condemned to a lifetime - many lifetimes of near misses and shattered possibilities that spoke more of just friends wanting reconciliation.

Her thoughts were a whirlwind as she considered the means to change their fate. Magic, time, perhaps even intervention from ancient forces or old Gods - Hermione was utterly willing to explore any avenue that could break this cycle of pain and heartache. She sank to her knees, breaths still coming out ragged as the enormity of the task before her suddenly hit like a tidal wave. But she had to do something, had to change their fate, no matter the cost.

It was, in all honesty, the least she could do after all the Potions Master had done - what Lily herself had achieved in saving her son.

What were such sacrifices to mean if there was nothing but an accursed loneliness waiting for them beyond the folds of death; a force incomprehensible that seemed so determined to tear them apart even as all they did yearn for was but one lifetime together?

A thought flickered in the depths of Hermione's mind, a spark of inspiration that threatened to ignite into a flame.

Time.

Time was the key, she realised, the key to unlocking the secrets of the past and shaping the course of the future.

But it would not be an easy task, something of which required sacrifices that Hermione knew she may not be so willing to make. She knew that such a plan would require delving into the darkest corners of magic, into the very treacherous and forbidden realms of time and its very manipulation.

And yet, despite the risks, despite the dangers that she knew could lurk around any corner, the bushy-haired witch knew that she really had no choice but to try. Not for her, or even that of the pursuit of academic accolades, but that for the very sake of Lily and Severus. For the sake of their shared destiny, Hermione Granger would stop at nothing to set things right.


"Well, did you see the flares in the sky?"
"Were you blinded by the light?"
"Did you feel the smoke in your eyes, did you, did you?"
"Did you see the sparks, feel the hope?"
"You are not alone, 'cause someone's out there;"
"Sending out flares."


Many, many, many years in the future...

The platform of 9¾ buzzed with excitement as families and student of all kinds and species bustled about, preparing to board the rather aging Hogwarts Express. Centaur elders helped their mixed bag of foals into the enlarged carriages, some nickering to the young with a paternal yet impatient air, whilst Goblins and Hoblets, a creature that was half goblin, half hobbit and did herald from the mysterious Australian Outback, ran between the legs of human and magical alike.

Amidst this bustling scene, a young girl with fiery red hair and bright green eyes darted across the platform, her heart pounding with anticipation even as she chased after her older sister. She had been looking forward to this day for as long as she could remember, the day when she would finally embark on her own magical journey at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

As she weaved through the crowd, searching for her sister, Lillian caught glimpses of creatures she had only read about in books: majestic Pegi with their platinum wings stretched wide, soaring above the heads of the crowd; a family of House Elves scurrying along, their ears flapping with each hurried step; and even a small group of Nifflers, their shiny blue-black fur glinting in the sunlight as they dug their noses into the ground, searching for hidden treasures even as they pushed their squabbling pups towards their futures.

But amidst the chaos and excitement, Lillian's attention was drawn to a young wizard standing beside who she could only guess to be his mother, his dark eyes fixed upon the scarlet steam engine that loomed before them even as the bushy-haired witch at his side continued to whisper soothing words in his ear. The boy was tall and slender, his hair a rather inky black that he must have gotten from his father; his mother's a chocolate brown that curled with a life all its own. And although he wore the same Hogwarts robes as the other students, there was something different about him, a quiet intensity that seemed to set him apart from the rest of the crowd and caught Lillian's attention, holding it fast and with no intention of letting it go within sight.

The young witch approached the mother and son cautiously, her curiosity piqued by the air of mystery that surrounded the boy. And as he turned to look at her, his dark eyes meeting hers with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty, Lillian felt a pang of sympathy at the ambiguity that clouded his dark brown eyes - one that did echo the very same uncertainty she had felt when she had first set foot into the magical world.

"Hello," she said tentatively, offering a small nervous smile that'd been twisted with just the slightest touch of curiosity, "Are you starting Hogwarts this year as well?"

Her question, weather it revealed that it was Lillian's first year as well, or even the nervousness that had seeped into the words, had the boy's uncertainty disappear behind a cloud of realisation and understanding, and he nodded as a faint smile played at the corner of his lips; a glance quickly shared to the woman at his side before he was offering a reply.

"Yes," he agreed, his voice a soft and quiet timbre that held an undercurrent of something Lillian couldn't quite name. "I received my letter not that long ago. It's all..."

"It's all rather new to Severus," the bushy-haired witch interjected with a warm smile as her son trailed off, her hand resting upon the boy's shoulder and offering it a comforting squeeze. "But he was so excited when he got his letter. He waited by the window all morning for the Professor to show up."

"Professor?" Lillian blinked, looking to the boy - Severus - in surprise.

"Ah, yes. You see, Severus was raised Muggle," his mother smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a mixture of amusement and pride. "A Professor came to visit us and told us all about Hogwarts and the magical world and Severus was so eager to learn more that he couldn't help but demand we go out and buy every book there was about magic and the wonders that linger within its folds. The library was such a disaster after he was finished," she added with a chuckle.

"Mum!"

As Lillian stood before Severus and his mother, her curiosity mingled with a sense of admiration and a touch of amusement at the young boy's eagerness to learn about the magical world. She listened intently as his mother, whose name she learned was Hermione, recounted the excitement that had filled their home when Severus had received his Hogwarts letter.

Hermione's warm smile and gentle demeanour spoke volumes about the love and care she so clearly bestowed upon her son, and Lillian couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the bond they seemed to share. She glanced at Severus, whose dark eyes sparkled with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness even as his pale features were flush with a clear embarrassment, and Lillian couldn't help but wonder about the mysteries that lay hidden within his seemingly standoffish demeanour.

"It sounds like you've had quite the adventure," Lillian remarked, her voice tinged with admiration and familiarity. "I can still remember my sister when she got her letter. They sent it by owl," she provided more for Severus' knowledge than anyone else, "And I swear she'd perched herself by the window for the entire night. Looked like the very bird that dropped her letter off, her hair everywhere and eyes wide yet droopy with no sleep; a right mess, I say."

Severus couldn't stop the snort from escaping him at the image in which Lillian's words had provided him with, and his lips curved into a hesitant yet genuine smile; something that caught his mother's eye and caused her heart to warm.

"Oh, don't let Severus fool you," the older witch couldn't help but interject with a teasing grin. "He may seem all serious, but he's got a wickedly sharp sense of humour, just like his father."

The boy rolled his eyes at his mother's comment, but the hint of a smile remained on his lips. Lillian couldn't help but notice the subtle resemblance between Severus and Hermione, not in physical features, but in the way their eyes lit up with a certain spark of intelligence and determination.

"Is your father here as well?" she questioned, curiosity gleaming in her green eyes as she looked this way and that for a man who she guessed looked a lot like Severus; tall, dark, and with an air of mysterious intrigue. In doing so, however, she missed the way Hermione's expression softened and the shadow that passed over her son's features; her words having touched upon a nerve that she'd been completely unaware of.

"I, uh... I never knew my father," Severus admitted the moment Lillian's gaze settled searchingly upon his form, the question in her eyes due to their obvious silence causing his own gaze to drop to the ground. "My parents passed away when I was very young," he continued, a furrowed frown causing his brows to almost meet upon his forehead. "And it's just been Mum and me for as long as I can remember," he finished with a shrug that had him seemingly like it was no big deal to him.

Yet Lillian's sympathy for Severus welled up, understanding the weight of loss that lingered within his words. And as she glanced toward Hermione, she saw brown eyes that conveyed a mix of sadness and love.

"Severus is my son," the bushy haired witch explained gently. "We're a bit unconventional, I suppose. I never married, you see. But when his parents, very good friends of mine, did unexpectedly pass, I couldn't bear to see him to go to an orphanage. So, I decided to raise him as my own; fought tooth-and-claw to keep him by my side."

Dark brown, almost black eyes darted up from the ground to connect with warm brown, gratitude shining within the depths of Severus' gaze as he tried to convey what he couldn't say with just that look alone. And as he turned his attention back to Lillian, shyness once more stealing some of his spine, he admitted wholeheartedly, "I may not have a traditional family, but Mum has always been there for me. She's taught me everything I know."

"And he's exceeded all my expectations. A natural talent with everything, just like his parents."

Lillian felt a warmth fill her chest at witnessing the genuine bond between Severus and Hermione. It was a reminder to the witch that family went beyond that of blood, of the ties of love and care that truly bound people together.

As they continued chatting, Lillian learned more about Severus' journey into the magical world. Hermione shared tales of their visits to Diagon Alley, the mishap they had to deal with at The Magical Menagerie after a Niffler had decided that Severus was the perfect companion for its unbridled mischief, along with that of Severus' seemingly insatiable curiosity for spells and potions - if having dragged his mother through Flourish and Botts and the Apothecary - thrice - was anything to go by. And her son, in turn, slowly begun to open up more, his guarded demeanour disappearing away in the company of a newfound friend and the warmth and support of his mother's continued presence.

The trio slowly made their way towards the Hogwarts Express as their conversation deepened, blending seamlessly into the diverse crowd of magical beings. House Elves, centaur, goblins, and wizards of all backgrounds mingled in a unified harmony, creating a tapestry of magical diversity that felt both enchanting and inspiring. However, and as they came to a stop before the scarlet train, Hermione's demeanour shifted, a far more serious façade replacing the warm humour Lillian had experienced up until that point.

"You still have Mister Rascal, yes Mister Snape?" the witch questioned her son, confusing the girl with them for but a moment with her overly formal wording.

Hermione's question had Severus scowling, yet, and before Lillian could even begin to contemplate the sudden and unexpected change in topic, her eyes widened as the wizard revealed a gilded cage from his robes, the Niffler that was trapped inside trying desperately to pick its way out before suddenly freezing as it realised it was no longer hidden from the ever watchful brown eyes of a certain bushy-haired witch.

"Really Snitch?" Hermione questioned, holding out her hand towards the cage and the picks that the Niffler had managed to somehow lift - from where, she dare not even ask. "You know that every misdeed only leads to another day added to your punishment."

"Th-that's a Niffler," Lillian could only stutter, her green eyes wide with surprised disbelief as they watched the creature's entire body droop, a chittering of profaned litanies escaping its bill even as it did as requested and handed over the lockpicks.

"And a student," Severus could only add with a scowl directed at the Niffler, who just blew him a raspberry before plonking his quilled butt onto the floor of his cage and crossed his arms against his chest; glowering at the wizard like his imprisonment was all his fault.

"You messed with the wrong family, Mister Rascal," Hermione stated with a disapproving frown. "Headmaster Flaxston has already warned you about going after the first years, and the laws clearly state that I'm allowed to lock you up until the Headmaster can deal with you for retribution for what you did to my son - Familiar Bond be damned."

Severus' scowl deepened as his mother continued her reprimanding, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched Snitch begin to sulk in his cage, knowing that none could escape the wrath of his mother when she was trying to protect someone. Lillian, too, couldn't help but suppress a giggle at the sight of the mischievous creature's antics being thwarted.

"Come on, Snitch," Severus finally sighed, shaking his head at the Niffler's theatrics. "You know you brought this upon yourself."

With but a grumble, Snitch Rascal turned his back on the boy, his dark eyes glinting with defiance even as he seemed to have accepted his fate. Though he jolted in place, as if he'd just stuck his bill into a Muggle power-point when he was suddenly met with a stern look from Hermione before the witch turned her attention back to her son and his newfound friend.

"Promise me you'll keep an eye on him," she said, her tone softening to something more of maternal concern. "He may be a handful, be he is technically family now, Severus," she added, ruffling her son's hair whilst she was able to; the swatting of Severus' hands that was usually quick to follow being thwarted by the very cage he was holding.

Severus jerked his head in the affirmative, even as his eyes narrowed knowingly upon his mother. But there was a hint of affection that softened his features and he was soon looking back to the Niffler, a smile beginning to pull at his lips. "I'll make sure he stays out of trouble, Mum. I promise."

Lillian could only smile at their interaction, touched by the bond between mother and son - and the mischievous magical creature that had somehow tied itself to their peculiar family. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of him Ms..."

"Granger. Hermione Granger, Miss Evans," the elder witch supplied, her eyes softened with gratitude even as she gave Severus a quick yet tight hug; her love for the boy evident in the warmth of her embrace. "I'll miss you, my dear," she whispered as she let him go.

"I'll miss you too, Mum," Severus replied, his voice choked with emotion. Yet he swallowed them down, his head raising as he offered his mother a confident smile, his shoulders squaring as he told her, "And I'll be sure write to you the moment I can and let you know what the Headmaster decides to do with Snit- er, Mister Rascal."

"Don't forget you House, love. I have that bet with your parents I still have to win, remember," Hermione could only chuckle as she stepped back and allowed the trio to board the train. "I'm so certain you'll be in Ravenclaw."

Lillian could only watch with a growing smile as her friend scoffed at his mother's words, a scowl that was beginning to become familiarly fond twisting his lips as he smartly replied, "Ewe, Mum. I hate heights! No way I'm gonna be a bird. It'll be Gryffindor all the way, just like you and da!" And as they made their way down the narrow aisle, catching sight of Lillian's sister - of whom Rascal could blow raspberries at whilst pelting the elder witch with what appeared to be coal - sitting in a compartment with her friends, the redheaded witch felt a surge of excitement mingle with a twinge of sadness at the prospect of leaving Hermione behind.

But as she settled into a compartment with Severus and Snitch, the anticipation of the journey ahead overshadowed her melancholy - more so after it was discovered Snitch Rascal was not to be found within his gilded cage.


Fin...?

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Daily Prophet Special!

Unprecedented Magical Mischief
Misadventures and Magical Creatures

Proudly brought to you by Rita Skeeter.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland - In a series of uproarious yet mystifying events, the prestigious school of Hogwarts finds itself embroiled in an enigma that has left students and staff baffled, amused, and slightly apprehensive.

The subject of this bewitching saga, you do ask?

Why, none other than third-year-student Petunia Evans, whose encounters with the magical creatures both attending and living upon the grounds of Hogwarts seem to have taken a peculiar turn.

Reports from various sources indicate that Miss Evans, known for her rather plain and uneventful tenure thus far, has become entangled in a web of misadventures involving the school's eclectic menagerie of magical creature. From the ever-mischievous Nifflers to the elusive Thestrals that roam the Forbidden Forest, no creature great or small seems immune to the peculiar magnetism of Miss Evans.

Witnesses attest to the sheer absurdity and hilarity of the incidents, ranging from the comical to the downright bizarre. One particularly memorable account revealed to this reported involves Miss Evans being chased through the corridors by a flock of overzealous Bowtruckles; each of which had supposedly been vying for the honour of nesting in her hair - a spectacle that left onlookers both amused and bewildered.

Another tale recounts Miss Evans' impromptu dance with a troupe of mischievous Pixies in the Great Hall, culminating in a cacophony of giggles and chaos that had even the sternest Professors struggling to maintain their composure.

But perhaps the most astonishing episode of all involves Miss Evans' encounter with the legendary Hungarian Horntail, a dragon of unparalleled ferocity and power. Eyewitnesses swear they saw the Third Year being snatched from the shore of the Black Lake before she was then taken back to the dragon's nest, wherein the Hungarian Horntail then - if reports from the Aurors sent out to save Miss Evans are to be believed - forced the young witch to 'warm his eggs'; a scene even imagined being something that defies all logic and reason yet remains etched into the memories of all who swore to have borne witness to such a scene.

Speculation runs rampant as to the cause of these fantastical occurrences. Some attribute Miss Evans' newfound rapport with magical creatures to 'sheer dumb luck' or complete happenstance, while others whisper of a curse perhaps lurking beneath her seemingly plain-faced exterior.

Despite the undeniable hilarity of these escapades, concerns have been raised regarding the safety and well-being of both Miss Evans and her unsuspecting cohorts; some of which have been revealed to be some of Hogwarts' very own magical students. The Headmaster has issued a gentle reminder to all students, be they human or magical, to exercise caution and vigilance when interacting with unknown magical creatures, lest they to find themselves embroiled in their own whimsical misadventures.

Yet, and as Hogwarts continues to brace itself for more hilarious escapades, one thing remains certain; Miss Petunia Evans and the magical creatures of Hogwarts are poised to create mischief and merriment like never before, leaving the school abuzz with the resonating sounds of laughter and wonderment.

Only time will tell what other fantastical feats await in this spellbinding tale of magical mayhem. But until then, dear readers, keep your wands at the ready and your sense of humour intact - after all, in a world where anything is possible, the only limit is those we do place upon our own imagination.


Hermione may or may not have done some 'extra-curricular Time-Travelling' before getting around to adopting Severus...

Snitch Rascal was questioned over the incidents that had befallen Petunia Evans after his escape and re-capture, yet as no one could identify one Niffler from another, all charges that had been places against him were dropped. If his 'adopted brother' had just happened to have taken seven months to locate Snitch... well, no one really wanted to ask him as to why when the fiery witch at his side gave them a glare worthy of some unknown, red-eyed Dark Lord.

As for Petunia Evans?

She was eventually saved by a nice young Squib by the name of Vernon Dudley - who was so very quick to move to the centre of the very Australian Outback wherein the mysterious Hoblets did originate from; declaring to any that asked, 'That witch is CURSED, I tell you! Cursed! She'll bring doom to us all!'

It was later learned that he settled down with a nice witch who wore ridiculously thick glasses and had the most inappropriate need to blurt out the most ridiculous prophecies known to wizarding kind.

Like seriously, who the hell would want to dump a child into a vat of peanut butter just to rid them of the possibility of a rising Dark Lord?

What if they had allergies?