Chapter Text
November 1979
A sickening sense of deja vu washed over Severus as he watched the funeral procession from behind a copse of trees. He couldn’t help but recall the day he spied on Lily and Petunia so many years ago before meeting them for the first time. For all that his father had tried to introduce him early on to the miseries of life, Severus thought the world had seemed a less sinister place back then.
He hadn’t received an invitation to mourn. He’d had to read about Mr. and Mrs. Evans’s passing in the local Muggle newspaper—the one Lucius always scoffed at Severus for reading. Severus wondered if they had learned what he’d become before they died. Would they be angry to know he was here? Lily had no doubt told her parents about their falling out, but had she told them why? Had she explained what it meant to be a Death Eater? Did Mr. and Mrs. Evans go to their graves believing Severus hated them for being born without magic?
Severus noted two unexpected absences as the group of mourners gathered in the cemetery. Tuney had shown up, but her walrus of a husband was missing. Even more surprising was that James Potter was missing as well. The two sisters stood an uncomfortable distance apart, as if wanting to be certain no one could mistake their relationship for an amiable one.
An elderly man made his way to the front of the group, carrying with him the Holy Bible. Each step took several agonizing seconds, and Severus wondered what would happen if the priest died in the middle of the service. Would they wait around while someone called in a new one? Or would they simply skip to the eulogies and schedule another funeral for the priest next week?
Severus was dragged from his macabre thoughts by a pair of green eyes turning on him, as though sensing his presence. Lily stared into the trees for so long that he began to hope she hadn’t seen him. But then the priest cleared his throat, and Lily bit her lip before beckoning with one hand. Severus couldn’t have been more shocked if Mr. and Mrs. Evans woke up in their coffins and offered him tea.
Hesitantly, he made his way over to his ex-best friend. Tuney’s eyes widened when she saw him before narrowing in an icy glare. Severus kept his face intentionally blank. He couldn’t list all of the emotions beating against his rib cage, and he didn’t want to risk Tuney seeing his inner turmoil laid bare. Holding his breath and standing even more stiffly than he did in the Dark Lord’s presence, he stopped a few paces to Lily’s left.
Lily’s eyes were on him once again, but he didn’t dare look, keeping his gaze trained on the priest who had only just begun to open his bible. He nearly jumped when two arms wove their way around his. Lily sniffled but didn’t say anything as she clung to him.
Part of Severus wanted nothing more than to embrace the moment and relish in Lily’s touch, but another part was drowning in the need to know. Since the priest was still flipping through the bible, one page at a time between finger licks, Severus decided to give into the masochistic urge to ask, “Is there a reason Potter isn’t here?”
Lily’s fingers tightened on his arm as though startled to hear his voice, but Severus noted that her reaction was to hold him closer rather than to pull away. “He didn’t know them,” she said quietly after a few seconds. “Not really. Only met them twice before the wedding.” Although she went silent after that, there was an electric feel to the air like she was struggling with the desire to say more. “Andihopedyoumightcome,” she finished in a rush.
Severus’s heart skipped a beat when he separated out her words. Carefully, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against him the way he had wanted to since laying eyes on her today. She let out a breath that was almost a sob and buried her head in his shoulder.
Severus was so aware of her proximity that he didn’t hear a word of the service. He had thought it unbearable to miss the funeral of two people who had shown him care and familial love when he needed it most, but he had never imagined Lily might want him here.
She pulled away only when it was time to say goodbye to the deceased. When she made her way back into the crowd, she looked at Petunia with a bleak sort of challenge in her eyes. “You should visit sometime. I miss you.”
The other woman hoisted her chin in the air and spun on her heel without so much as a “humph.” It itched at Severus that she had a choice to have Lily in her life and opted not to.
“Same old Tuney,” Lily sighed.
“She used to be more fun,” Severus remarked. “I suppose that Muggle she married has something to do with it? Last I heard, you two were getting on again.”
“Don’t say ‘Muggle’ like that,” Lily chided, but there wasn’t as much force behind it as there used to be. She must have realized how pointless it was to tell a Death Eater to watch his language when there were far worse things happening in the Dark Lord’s ranks. “They’re not all bad.”
“But this one is?” Severus said knowingly.
Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes, all right. He’s the worst. James set Vernon off at dinner a year ago, and the two of them boycotted our wedding out of spite. I’ve only received passive-aggressive gifts from the happy couple ever since.”
“Shame we can’t light her curtains on fire like we did when we were kids.”
Lily smirked at the thought, but the expression faded before Severus could capture it properly in his memory. “Are you in a hurry? I...” Lily chewed at her lip. “I could use some company.”
Severus tucked his surprise deep in the recesses of his mind the way Narcissa had taught him to do. “There’s nowhere else I need to be.”
Lily nodded tightly. “Good. I—-that’s good.” Shaking her head, she added, “Care for a tour of our old haunts?”
Chest tight, Severus gestured for her to lead the way.
By the time they reached the cobblestone streets of their childhood, Lily had loosened up a bit, the color returning to her cheeks from exertion. She was wearing a scuffed pair of Mary Janes she got for Christmas their fifth year with a too-large jacket draped over a black button-up dress. Severus didn’t remember the jacket, but he was certain Lily had gotten it during their Hogwarts years. It was clearly second-hand, and Potter would no doubt buy her anything she wanted brand new. It seemed Lily was feeling nostalgic today. Either that or she was having marital problems. Severus wondered if she would notice if he did a nonverbal spell to check for bruises the way he used to do on his mother.
Several years ago, someone had built a small brick flower garden near the midpoint between the Evans and Snape houses. Lily and Severus had often come there to get some time alone—or rather, time away from everyone else. Lily perched on it now, arms pulling her knees in close, hands rubbing against each other to keep warm. She lifted them to her mouth and let out a puff of hot air.
Glancing around to make sure no Muggles were nearby, Severus slipped his wand out of his sleeve and cast a quick warming charm around them. Lily tensed before shooting him an abashed but grateful smile. Did she think he was going to hex her? The thought writhed uncomfortably in his stomach as he tucked his wand away and sat at her side.
He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips before offering the pack to Lily. “Smoke?”
“God, yes,” she said, taking one. “James throws a fit if I so much as think about lighting up.”
Severus lifted a brow. “Are we talking about cigarettes or arson?”
Lily grinned, holding her lighter up to him and clicking it. “Shhh. He doesn’t know about all that.”
Severus’s lips curved upward, muscles protesting at the movement. He didn’t realize it had been so long since he gave a real smile. Leaning forward, he tipped his cigarette into her flame and paused until he was sure it had lit. Lily’s eyes were locked on his, and Severus drew back with reluctance. He broke the staring contest first. “He’s probably worried about your health.”
Lily lit her own cigarette and took a long drag before tilting her head back, closing her eyes, and blowing it out. “Yeah, well. He doesn’t understand the occasional desire to be self-destructive.”
“No,” Severus said with a sneer, despite his best efforts to reign it in. “He chooses the high road and takes his problems out on others.”
Lily snorted, removing the bite from her reprimand, “That’s my husband you’re talking about.”
Severus dug his teeth into his tongue to keep the next question from tumbling out of his mouth, but it seemed even pain wasn’t enough to temper his desperate curiosity. “Why him, Lily?”
Lily stared unblinkingly at the smog rising over the rooftops as she augmented it with a puff from her cigarette. She didn’t speak for several minutes, making it seem like she wasn’t going to answer at all. Finally, she said, “Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
“Why?”
Because it’s one thing to abandon me to my misery but another to shack up with the man who made my life hell.
Because he assaulted me, and I’m afraid he’ll hurt you too.
Because he’s nothing like you, and you deserve to be with someone who understands.
Each of those answers popped into his mouth, but he clamped down on them with a clench of his jaw and said, “I just want to know that you’re...happy.”
Safe was what he meant, memories of James Potter and his father flickering through his mind in rotation—violent, charismatic men who took pleasure in causing pain.
“There’s a war going on, Sev,” Lily said. “My parents just died. You’re asking me if I’m happy?”
Severus’s brain short-circuited when she used his old nickname so casually—like it still felt natural in her mouth.
She must have mistaken his pause for a lack of response because she said, “James loves me.”
“And do you...love him?” Severus asked before he could stop himself.
“I married him, didn’t I?” Lily squeezed her eyes shut and said, “Let’s not talk about James anymore.”
Severus felt dread pool in his stomach at her avoidance of the question, and he decided it was time to stop talking around what he really wanted to know. “Is he hurting you?”
Lily fumbled with her cigarette and looked at him in surprise. “What? No. No, of course not. That’s what you’re worried about?”
Severus frowned. He didn’t know why she was surprised.
Lily studied him for several moments like she was trying to read his mind. She wasn’t. Severus could tell when someone attempted to pry into his thoughts these days. That had been Narcissa’s first lesson.
Lily gave him a curious look, almost soft. “He hasn’t—He’s not like that. James is...James is good to me.” She bit her lip, but her teeth couldn’t hide the wry smile that threatened to appear. “His vault at Gringotts isn’t too shabby either.”
“Ah. I didn’t realize I was speaking with Petunia.”
Lily shoved him with her shoulder. “You know we’re not all that different. We’re both our mother’s daughters, through and through.”
“That is emphatically untrue,” Severus said. “You have your father’s eyes and his kindness, and Tuney got stuck with his neck and none of your mother’s brains.”
Lily’s snicker petered out too soon. “Mum and Dad never liked James.”
“I can’t imagine why not,” Severus deadpanned, although he was genuinely surprised. Mrs. Evans had always cared more about status than anything else, and if that was all one was after, Potter was the ideal husband.
“Mum approved of our marriage, of course. She couldn’t tell me enough what a smart match it was. But they never wanted to spend any time with him.”
Severus didn’t know what to say to that, so he took a drag from his cigarette, hoping it would take the edge off. Even though he was the one to bring him up, speaking about Potter always triggered his fight-or-flight response.
“They loved you though,” Lily said with a funny smile.
“They used to sneak me in through the back door so I wouldn’t sully their reputation with my poverty,” Severus reminded her.
“Sneaking you in was their way of making an effort,” Lily said. “They wouldn’t have done that if they didn’t like you.”
“Lils, they told the neighbors I was a charity project.”
“Oh, you know they loved you. You wouldn’t have come today otherwise.” She stared up at the sky like she was searching for their faces in the clouds. “I never saw Dad as excited as when he was in the garden with you, and Mum thought you were the cleverest boy she’d ever met. It seemed so out-of-character for them—they’ve never been the warmest people—but I think they liked the Slytherin in you. They asked about you all the time when you stopped coming by the house.”
Severus’s eyes stung at hearing how fondly her parents thought of him, but he hated that Lily made it sound like it was his decision to stop visiting. Although he supposed it was, in a way. He had chosen his side, even if at first it was by accident.
“I’ve missed you, Sev,” Lily said. “I know we’ve both done and said things we can’t take back, but God, I wish sometimes that we were fifteen again and we could do it all over.”
Severus swallowed, pulse racing at her confession. “You know I’d give anything for that chance.”
Lily studied him, and it felt like she was taking him apart. “Do I, Sev?” she asked. “You asked me ‘why James’ and the reason is that he was prepared to put me first, above everything. He changed, got better, for me. I was willing to put up with your Death Eater friends and their antics as long as I still believed that, at the end of the day, it was us against the world. But you brought the war between us that day—made me choose a side.”
He wanted to tell her that she had started to pull away from him long before then, by defending James Potter over him and acting like Severus owed her something just because she stood up to her friends when they said Severus was no good for her—like that wasn’t something friends should just do. But Severus hadn’t defended Lily against Mulciber and Avery’s name-calling in their dormitory, and Severus didn’t want to fight with her today. Especially when he knew his own actions were much worse—if not then, then certainly now, with the Dark Mark burning on his arm. When they argued, Lily was always right anyway.
“I kept thinking about Tuney,” Lily said, the pain in her eyes fresh from her sister’s rebuff at the funeral. “And I hated you for reminding me that I didn’t really belong in either of your worlds—that the two people I loved more than anyone thought me a freak and a Mudblood.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve.
“The best place for me to be during this war,” she continued, “is at the side of a wealthy pureblood from a respected family. I don’t know if I love James or if I just love that he loves me, but what we have is good, and I’m not sure I trust that you could give me that—even if things were different.”
Severus closed his eyes tight, like he could grind up his tears before they fell. “Why are you telling me this?” he forced out, voice hoarse. “Don’t you think I know—”
“Because I’m tired of playing house and fighting a war and being pitted against the person who knows me better than anyone,” Lily said. “I want to forget for a while. But I don’t want to give you hope that we can be anything, or that I’ve forgiven you, or that I even trust you anymore.” Her green eyes were blazing into his, lit with an urgency and desperation he’d never seen in them until now. “Just for today, I want to forget. Can you give me that?”
Severus knew what she was asking, and he knew it was a terrible idea. But he had never been good at saying no to Lily when it mattered. He had said it once, when she asked him to give up his friends and the Dark Arts for her, but at the time, he didn’t believe she was serious. He’d thought she was testing the waters, the way she always had, seeing if manipulation would work in her favor. That was her mother’s influence, as Lily had said, running strong in both her and Petunia even if the two sisters wore it differently. Severus was used to brushing off her attempts to toy with him the way she did everyone else, and he had tried to call her bluff. It was only after it was too late to fix everything that he realized she wasn’t bluffing.
Severus could say confidently, even if Lily couldn’t, that if she asked him now, he’d surrender everything just to keep her in his life. But she didn’t ask him that. She wrapped her fingers in his jacket and kissed him.
And just like that, they were back in the summer before fifth year, when their Hogwarts friends were far enough away to not matter and the approaching war only existed in Lily’s fleeting concerns and the thrum of hatred Severus felt each time his father stumbled home with his fists raised. Lily had kissed him for the first time that summer, tucked into the thicket of trees by the river where years earlier a young Severus had told a young Lily that it didn’t make a difference being Muggleborn.
As they kissed, Lily’s hand slid from his shoulder down his chest.
Severus stiffened instinctively.
“Shit, sorry,” Lily said, retracting her hand. “I didn’t think. I wouldn’t have—”
“It’s all right,” Severus said. It struck him as oddly funny that she didn’t know about his good news, even if it was for the distinctly un-funny reason that they weren’t in each other’s lives anymore. “The surgery scars should be healed by now.”
Realization bloomed in Lily’s eyes, and she slapped his arm. “Sev! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“Can’t you?” Severus said back.
Lily ignored the jab, surveying his chest with an unreadable expression on her face. “Can I see?”
There was a tightness in Severus’s ribs as he recalled a time when Lily would ease his dysphoria by presenting him with books about top surgery—back when she had promised to hold his hand through the doctor’s visits and help him through his recovery. It felt like another lifetime now, those promises overlaid with the memory of Lucius and Narcissa filling the void Lily left behind. He nodded slowly, leaning back onto his elbows to signal that he trusted her to take the lead.
The brick was hard against his bones, and Lily’s hair on the backdrop of grey Cokeworth sky was like fire—as though she could burn this whole place down if she wanted. It wasn’t far from the truth. Slowly, Lily undid the buttons of his shirt.
Cold air met Severus’s chest, followed by the warmth of Lily’s fingers as they traced his scars. His heart skipped a beat at the contact. Lily’s eyes were glistening when he found them again. She opened her mouth like she wanted to speak but closed it before words could escape. Her gaze latched onto Severus’s, and the emotion he saw there was almost too much to bear. He wondered if she was feeling the lost time between them as heavily as he was—the moments the war and their choices had stolen from them.
Severus wanted to say something—to comfort her, to break the tension, to magic them back to a time before she needed comfort. Before the tension between them turned from a lifeline into a rope around his neck. But then Lily’s lips were on his again, and he couldn’t tell whether the tears on his cheeks were hers or his—whether the distinction even mattered.
Lily’s fingers kept tracing the scars on his chest like she was memorizing them. Severus knew her touch would leave a scar of its own—an imprint of what he’d given up when he said that awful word all those years ago.
“This is a walkway, not a brothel!” an indignant elderly neighbor shouted.
Lily broke the kiss and snickered against Severus’s lips. The sound was contagious. The elderly woman threw out a few more derogatory shrieks, and soon, they were gasping for breath from laughter, the tears dried on their cheeks.
Lily tugged at Sev’s jacket. “Come on, let’s continue this somewhere more private.”
Severus was glad their giggling had lessened his arousal, because once Lily was standing, she said, “Race you to the river,” and took off running down the street.
Severus felt a blow against his chest, struck by the realization that he hadn’t laughed this hard since that summer so long ago, and that he probably wouldn’t ever again. He couldn’t imagine a more fitting punishment or a more unexpected gift than this resurfacing of the past, this ritual forgetting of the years and words and choices that stood between him and the person he loved most.
He stared after Lily for a few seconds, trying to embrace the moment instead of dreading its end. And then he ran after her. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
August 1995
The Dark Lord had only been back for a few months, but already, Severus had determined that a summons from Albus Dumbledore was just as excruciating. Not physically—despite his...moral greyness when it came to the greater good, Albus had not yet stooped to using the Cruciatus Curse on his allies—but in terms of the sheer aggravation it brought Severus.
Summers, traditionally, were a time when Severus could work in the garden, brew potions on his own terms, and spend his evenings with a thick tome and a hot cup of tea. With the Dark Lord back, Severus was prepared to face torture and tedious meetings in which Death Eaters were interrogated within an inch of their lives about their exact activities during the Dark Lord’s absence. Listening to Goyle’s screams for three long hours was not how Severus liked to spend an afternoon, but he understood the necessity of playing his part and playing it well.
He did not understand the reason for Albus summoning him when nothing of interest had occurred in the twenty-four hours since he left Black’s ghastly home. Albus had grown increasingly more agitated at each meeting—a state conveyed only through the elevated speed at which he consumed lemon drops and the hawk-like focus of his eyes behind those half-moon spectacles—as though it was Severus’s fault the Dark Lord had yet to mobilize. It irked him to think Albus trusted him so little, but it was far more irksome to have his time wasted. There were only so many days left before his life would be overrun by hordes of moronic children and horrendously dull staff meetings. Albus could at least give him a day’s peace.
Except, apparently, the Headmaster was incapable of such mercies. Severus had Flooed into his Hogwarts chambers from the fireplace at Spinner’s End and was now stalking toward the Headmaster’s office. If Albus had the audacity to ask him whether he’d learned any more details about the Dark Lord’s plans since the Order meeting twenty-four hours earlier, he thought he might quit this whole double agent business right then and there. Severus had heard Vienna was nice this time of year.
When the gargoyle appeared before him, Severus muttered, “Fizzing Whizbee,” with disdain and ascended the spiral stairs. Did the Headmaster understand the point of a password was security? Anyone who knew him could guess the answer given half a minute. Out of equal parts spite and precaution, Severus made sure the Slytherin passwords followed no discernible pattern.
“Severus, my boy,” Albus greeted pleasantly as the door swung open. “Come in, come in.”
The tone of the Headmaster’s voice left Severus unprepared for the sight he saw upon entering. Albus wore a shadowed expression, so dark it eclipsed his usually twinkling eyes with a sheet of pain, and his troubled gaze flickered to and away from an ancient-looking box.
Warily, Severus took a seat across from the man, attempting to conceal his own curiosity at the box’s contents. “What is the reason for this summons? I reported back to you just yesterday.”
A glint of desire arose in Dumbledore's eyes and then abated so quickly Severus wondered whether he had imagined it. Albus turned determinedly toward Severus instead of the box. “In my efforts to uncover Lord Voldemort’s past...”
A flash of pain shot through Severus’s arm at Dumbledore’s utterance of the Dark Lord’s name. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dumbledore said it frequently around him on purpose.
“...I have stumbled across an object with great power and also a terrible curse.”
Severus’s curiosity increased, but he kept his face stoic. It would not do for Dumbledore to think he was in any way pleased to be here. Albus might get it into his head that these meetings should become even more frequent.
“I had hoped to destroy it on my own,” the Headmaster continued, “but alas, I fear temptation will be the death of me, and I am not yet ready to depart from this world.” He pushed the box toward Severus with the tip of his wand. “I trust you have something in your potions store that can render Lord Voldemort’s influence innocuous?”
Severus gritted his teeth against the stinging pain in his Mark and withdrew one of the sacks he used for gathering herbs. He carefully slipped the box inside without letting it touch his skin. “I will see it done. May I ask what the significance of this object is?”
“I’m afraid I cannot voice my theory just yet,” Albus said gravely. “For now, all you need to know is that it must be destroyed and that you should not, for any reason, touch it until the deed is done. Such an action will certainly be fatal. Do I have your word that you will resist temptation?”
Severus’s lips twitched upward. Death was indeed a temptation he knew well, but he figured that wasn’t quite what the Headmaster meant. “Yes. If that is all...”
“Of course, of course, this task cannot wait, and I will not keep you. Unless you have any more insight into Lord Voldemor—”
“No,” Severus interrupted before Dumbledore completed the name, standing to leave. “The Dark Lord has shared no new plans. I will summon you if anything changes.”
“Very well, my boy. Remember to heed my warni—”
Severus was already slamming the door shut behind him. It was childish, perhaps, but Dumbledore held Severus’s life in his hands, and such petty rebellions were the only freedoms Severus could afford. They both knew he would do exactly as Albus said, regardless of his attitude, but the slam of the door gave Severus a vicious sense of satisfaction all the same.
The next morning found Severus still awake and entrenched in his experiments. The ring, for that was what the object was, had proven impervious to Severus’s most potent of potions. He could sense the darkness that poured off of it, heavy and suffocating like the Dark Lord’s magic often was, and although the symbol on the stone sparked some long-buried memory, he couldn’t remember enough to know if identifying it would be useful.
By the time the sun came up (not that Severus would know it, as deep in the ground as he was in the lab he’d built under his home in Spinner’s End), he had managed to break the fatal curse but not dissipate the Dark Lord’s power. That left only one option—an option that caused his teeth to grit together something fierce. If the basilisk venom didn’t work, it would be the most expensive instance of waste in Severus’s entire career. However, Albus had trusted him with this task, and he knew it wasn’t to be taken lightly. Uncapping the small vial that cost more than Severus made in three semesters of teaching, he poured it into the cauldron over the ring. A hissing sound filled the air almost instantly, and dark smoke rose up from the cauldron before dissolving into nothing. Severus smiled, success making his exhaustion seem further away. He ran a few final tests before wiping the ring of any dangerous residue and pinching it between his fingers.
Now that the darkness had faded, Severus felt a pulse of desire flowing from the stone as he carried it up to his living room. That must have been the temptation Albus spoke of. Unlike the Dark Lord’s magic, this pulsing wasn’t suffocating or dark. It was light and all-consuming, like the hope of righting a terrible mistake.
Or the lure of bringing someone back from the dead.
Severus’s palm tingled as he remembered his mother tracing the symbol of the Deathly Hallows on his skin while she read from The Tales of Beedle the Bard . Could this truly be...
But of course it was. What else could tempt Albus Dumbledore so much that he feared he would kill himself in an attempt to obtain its power? Severus knew that Albus once sought the Deathly Hallows with Grindelwald before their relationship took a turn.
Unable to stop himself, Severus popped the stone out of the ring. As he tucked the band into his pocket, a painfully familiar voice whispered in his mind, urging him to turn the stone over in his hand.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Severus squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath.
“Hey, Sev.”
The breath Severus was holding rattled out of him, taking the last of his strength with it. It was Lily’s voice, so close she might have been standing right in front of him. Severus trembled. His hands shook so much that he almost dropped the stone.
But then a pair of ghostly hands closed over his, keeping them still. “Open your eyes, silly.”
Severus took a shuddering breath. And then he did.
Tears streamed down his face as he took her in: Lily, slightly translucent but more solid than any ghost, standing there wearing the smile she had always reserved just for him—a little bit teasing, a little bit vulnerable, and just crooked enough to make it honest.
“Lily, I—” His mouth was thick with emotion, rendering his tongue clumsy in a way he thought he had trained it out of years ago. “I’m so sorry. God, I’m so—”
“I know, Sev,” she said. She brushed the tears from his face with her knuckles. The touch, deathly cold though it was, almost made Severus’s knees buckle. “I’ve watched you turn things around, putting yourself through so much pain, giving up every chance at happiness in order to make it up to me. You’ve been so brave.”
It was those words that did him in. Severus sunk onto the threadbare couch, struggling between the twin urges to drop his head into his hands and to look at Lily for as long as he was able.
Perhaps sensing this, Lily said, “I’m going to go make us some tea, okay?”
Severus nodded, biting his tongue against the apologies that kept wanting to spill out. Once Lily left the room, Severus took several breaths to get himself under control. He didn’t want to waste this precious time being an emotional wreck—not that there was much chance of him being anything else with his best friend returned to him after all these years.
By the time Lily came back from the kitchen, his breathing was still shaky, but his hands had stopped trembling enough for him to take the tea she handed him. He clutched the Resurrection Stone in his right fist while gripping the teacup in his left.
“Did I get it right?” she asked, sitting cross-legged in the reading chair next to him with her semi-opaque hands wrapped around her own cup. “It’s been a couple decades.”
Severus took a sip. It was exactly how he liked it. He was fairly certain the warmth that rose in his chest wasn’t just from the heat of the tea.
Lily took a sip from her cup. “Damn. I forgot how nice it feels to have a warm cup of tea.”
Whatever sense of calm Severus recovered while she was in the kitchen crumpled again at those words, his guilt returning full force. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
Lily gazed at him with affection. “As fun as it sounds to listen to a litany of apologies all morning, I think I might rather get Avada Kedavrad again. I’ve been dead for fourteen years, Sev. I’m over the blaming and the grief.” Lily scowled into her teacup. “And anyway, you’re not the one I want an apology from.”
Severus gaped at her. He didn’t know what he expected from this encounter—if he was honest, he hadn’t allowed himself enough hope to expect anything at all—but seeing Lily behave so casually, the way she did during holidays in Cokeworth in their youth, was definitely not it. He did his best to match her tone. “Surely you’re not hoping for a hand-written note from the Dark Lord?”
Lily smirked at the thought, then said, “Tuney, actually.”
Severus lifted a brow. “For spoiling your and Potter’s spawn so egregiously?”
Lily studied Severus carefully. “You really believe all that rubbish you say about Harry, don’t you?”
Severus took a long drink from his tea to put off the distasteful conversation that was no doubt about to ensue. “I suppose you’re going to try to change my mind.”
“He’s not at all like you imagine him, Sev. He’s loyal, humble, and kinder than anyone would expect given the life he’s had. Kinder than his father or me, certainly.”
Severus sneered. “Of course you would say that. You see him through the bias of a mother and a wife. If you weren’t blinded by all that, you’d see he’s just like his father.”
Lily’s lips quirked into a strange smile at his words. “Oh, I know he is.”
Severus narrowed his eyes, suspicion mounting at her unexpected response. “You agree, then? That he’s just like Potter was in school?”
“No,” Lily corrected. “I agree that he has quite a lot in common with his father. But his father isn’t James.”
Severus stared at her. “Explain yourself,” he gritted out.
Lily was suddenly very interested in the pattern on her teacup. “You know, when Harry was born, I was ready with a series of glamour charms should I need them. But I got lucky. With my green eyes and dark hair like James’s, everyone saw exactly what they expected to see.”
“You...you—” He was going to call her out on this horrible joke by asking if she really expected him to believe she would cheat on Potter.
But he happened to have infallible evidence that she would.
“No,” he said firmly when he managed to stop spluttering.
Lily finally met his eyes, looking almost disappointed. “Oh, Sev. Don’t tell me you’ve done it too.”
“Done what?” he snapped, incredulous that she seemed to be changing the topic when there was clearly a life-altering piece of information trapped under her tongue.
“Made me out to be a saint in your memory,” she said. “I played the part well, but I’ve been dead long enough to admit I wasn’t always a good person. You knew that when I was alive. You might have been the only one who did, besides maybe Tuney.”
Severus felt like he was going to be sick. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He had never forgotten Lily’s more Slytherin side—in fact, it was one of the things he loved most about her—but he hated the direction this conversation was heading. “Spit it out, dammit!” he said.
Lily took pity on him, a sympathetic expression finding its way onto her features. “Harry’s your son, Severus.”
The teacup shattered in his hand, and he dropped the Resurrection Stone in shock. A choked protest leaped from his throat when Lily winked out of existence, but he didn’t reach for the Stone. He had never imagined there would be a time when he didn’t want to see Lily’s face or hear her voice, but it seemed his entire world was being turned upside down today, so he might as well add that to the list.
Without picking up the shards of the teacup or even vanishing the liquid that sunk into his robes, he curled up on the couch and closed his eyes, hoping the sleep he had evaded all night would capture him now. Instead, his mind was awash with memory, the math making far too much sense for his denial. November through December, January through July...
Nine months. Nine goddamn months and Severus had never once considered the possibility that he could be—
He couldn’t even think the words.
Since age thirteen, Severus had had doctors warning him that being intersex might make him sterile. He’d never liked children and didn’t plan on having any, so he’d taken that warning as a blessing and never thought any more about it.
But it wasn’t a guarantee. The doctors had told him that, too, in a tone that told him not to get his hopes up. He’d sneered at the thought then. Now...
Severus’s ribcage felt too tight.
There was a chance it wasn’t true. Lily had been dead for fourteen years, but Severus hadn’t forgotten her skill with manipulation. He couldn’t discount the possibility that Lily had pounced on this opportunity to fuck with him—as revenge, or perhaps as a ploy to get Severus to be more lenient toward her son. That was certainly easier to swallow than the alternative.
And yet, there was an undeniable flicker of wonder tangled up in his nauseous bundle of emotions. The thought that there could be a child out there with parts of both Lily and himself made him feel—
But no, he couldn’t go down that path either. Regardless of what the truth was, there was no way Potte— the boy —would want anything to do with him. He might not be Potter’s son, but he was certainly Lily’s, and Lily could hold a grudge longer than anyone. Except perhaps Severus.
He has quite a lot in common with his father, Lily had said.
If she was telling the truth, then that meant—
Fuck.
Severus would no doubt have his work cut out for him if he wanted to make anything of this new development—and that was after he determined whether there was any substance to Lily’s confession. Severus wasn’t yet certain whether any of this would be worth the effort. After all, it seemed his sacrifices thus far had met Lily’s approval, and that trip to Vienna could still be arranged.