Snape watched him through slitted eyes as he hovered in a corner of the kitchen. He watched as the boy explained himself to Lily. Watched as he struggled with the serum he had been given.

It was true that the Veritaserum was from his personal stock. What he hadn't mentioned to Harry was that it was also his own formula, weakened slightly. He didn't want Harry to turn into a mindless, babbling drone. He wanted Harry to feel the serum working, to feel himself forced to tell the truth. Perhaps if he struggled, he'd see the lies for what they were.

The boy did struggle. His face downcast, his body trembling, he went through everything he said and did. By the end, his voice was hoarse, although Snape could not tell if that was from fighting back the truth or from fighting with something else coming from deep inside.

He looked much like his Harry, on Lily's very bad days.

But Snape firmly replayed the events of that afternoon to remind himself: the boy could not be trusted.

Lily was listening. And cleaning. Violently cleaning. Her wand whipped the air, and suds sprung out of kitchen countertops, racing across the surface like frightened animals. A dirty pot leapt into the sink and shivered as a spout of water from her wand attacked it. She finally turned and faced Harry, clamping her arms across her chest.

"What did you think?" she asked him. "That you could replace him? That I can't remember raising my son, so it means nothing?"

"No," said Harry. His voice could barely be heard over the clattering of the pots. "I know what it means. It means everything."

Lily's arms dropped to her sides. She studied the wand in her hand, rolling the pale wood between her fingers. "Can I trust you?" she asked plaintively.

The boy's shoulders tensed as he fought the serum. "I...don't know," he said finally. "I thought you could. Before tonight. But...I needed to do something. To...help."

Her jaw tightened. "You think what you did helped?"

Harry's gaze moved across the tiled floor and across the uneven surface of the cabinets. "I know it didn't. I know I...lied, I took advantage of...of what the curse did. I just wanted to save you."

Lily's free hand slammed down on the countertop. "I don't need saving! What exactly do you think you can save me from?"

Harry's eyes darted toward Snape. Pain flashed across the boy's face as he looked back at her.

In that moment, it felt right to resent him. The liar, the troublemaker. How could he ever trust this...replacement? This boy who wore his son's face?

Well. There were weeks' of grounding ahead of them. He'd find a way to make the boy trustworthy.

Lily just looked tired. "Go to bed, Harry," she said.

"But...can't I..."

"Bed," repeated Lily.

Harry nodded, gave a last, searching glance at Snape, and climbed the stairs. Halfway up, he stopped, his eyes fixed on the hand gripping the banister. "I can still call you mum, can't I?" His voice was unnaturally high.

Lily shut her eyes and rubbed two fingers against the taut skin at the edge of her forehead. When she looked back up, there were lines around her eyes. "Yes, Harry. Of course you can."

Harry nodded and fled upstairs.

Lily's shoulders slumped as she moved to the living room. Falling back into a pale yellow armchair, she folded her legs around her body. Her wand was laid out along her crossed legs. Strands of hair fell haphazardly into her face.

Severus longed to lean over her and tuck them behind her ear. Instead he followed slowly after her, lowering himself onto the sofa on the opposite side of the room. He folded his hands on his lap and wondered-as he had all the other times--what he could say. He'd learned a long time ago that Lily's sharp ears could spot the faintest hint of a rehearsed speech.

He grasped the scent of lilacs floating across the room. If it were another time, another situation, he would remark on it so Lily could tease him about the nose that could spot a scent from a hundred yards.

But tonight, he only cleared his throat. "You're staying." Severus tried to make it a statement. Tried to be confident in what he'd told Harry. She'd always stayed, before.

Lily stared at him with glittering ice. She shook her head, but what she finally said was, "Tell me it's the right choice."

He glanced away. "Don't look to me for right choices." The lamp on the side table cast a warm glow across the photographs on the wall. They glimmered, the figures within them moving in and out of the lamplight."But you always knew what choices to make, Lily. There was never doubt in your heart." His hands moved restlessly off his lap, his fingers playing with the raised threads in the upholstery. "And you chose me."

Her gaze became distant. The silence stretched between them, only broken by the rat-a-tat of raindrops on the roof tiles.

"And our Harry?" she asked. "Will I ever see him again? Or is he just going to be..." she gestured to the photographs on the wall, "...another casualty of the curse? Yourcurse. Another person who has fallen into the blackness?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "I wish I did."

"There were others," said Lily, her voice scratching the damp air. "Others I've loved, others I've forgotten."

"Yes," whispered Snape.

"But you can't tell me about them? The people I loved?"

"I can," said Snape. He hesitated. "All but one."

Lily nodded, a muscle in her jaw twitching. "And the one?"

"He was Harry's...our Harry's...first father."

Lily blinked, then stared at a photograph stuck to the Victrola record player standing near her. Snape knew the picture well: he and Harry sprawled in the grass, head to head, talking.

Lily leaned toward it, her thumbnail tracing the lines of the two faces. Two faces that were not quite similar enough. "Right," she said, the word a small gasp of realization. She closed her eyes, frowning in concentration. "There's nothing," she murmured. "Nothing."

"No," said Snape, raising an arm as if to physically stop her rummaging for an image of James Potter. "There cannot be."

She opened her eyes. "Tell me something about him."

Snape swallowed, his mouth dry. "The curse..."

"Yes, your curse. Don't be squeamish about the pain it causes me. I can't imagine you had any qualms when you developed it."

"I did not know-"

"Tell me about him! I want this from you. Tell me what kind of man he was."

Snape had reached his snapping point. "A man who enjoyed the suffering of others! A coward, a bully..."

Lily strode from her chair and leaned close to Snape, her clenched fingers and wand pressing deep into the arm of the sofa. "And a man I loved? Doesn't speak much towards my heart, does it? How can I trust my feelings for you when I loved such a blighter?"

"He was...It was not my intention to..."

"You can't have it both ways, Severus. Either I can trust the people I love, or I can't. If you can't find one kind word for this other man, one thing about him that made him worth loving, that what am I to think about you?"

His mind was an empty cupboard. He snatched at the first thought that came to light: "He looks like our son."

He knew as soon as he said it that it made no sense. Sons take after their fathers, not the other way round. But as he looked into Lily's face, the frantic movements of his mind calmed.

"He looks like our son," she repeated, her eyes searching his. Then she stepped back. Lily tucked her wand away and curled into the armchair. Her hair splashed against the pale canvas as she tilted her head up.

The movement brought back a memory for Severus, and he knew what to say. "Snow in the summer."

Lily stared at him, puzzled.

"It was a spell he taught me. Well, not taught. I observed him using it. Seemed useless at the time. But last summer..."Snape leaned back into the sofa. "Harry's birthday last summer fell on the hottest day in July. That afternoon, we were in the garden, trying to stay cool. You had brought your record player out, and Harry put on a Christmas record. He said it would help the cooling charms work, if the charms were convinced it was winter." Severus smiled. "So I cast the spell. You and Harry stood with your tongues out, trying to catch the flakes."

The snow had sparkled as it fluttered down, melting under the hot sun. Lily and Harry had tilted their bodies backward, held upright only by the two strong ropes of their clasped hands. Their tongues would dart inward whenever giggles overcame them, but they kept trying, their faces glittering like leaves on a dewy morning.

Severus watched Lily's upturned face now. She had closed her eyes, and he knew she was trying to picture it, trying to bring forth an image that wasn't there.

She shook her head. "I can't."

"I know."

She shifted on the armchair, tilting her head.A heaviness settled on her features. "I'm sorry, Severus. But I hate you for this."

His hands fell back into his lap. "I know."

Lily stood slowly and headed toward the stairs.

"You're staying," He murmured. It was a statement, this time.

She paused near the stairs and turned partly toward him. Her eyes did not meet his, but strayed to the wall of photographs. Photographs of Harry and himself. "There are two reasons I want to leave. And two reasons I want to stay." She turned fully, and her eyes sought his. "And so I stay."

The garrote pressing against him vanished. He nodded. "Do you want me to remind you? Tomorrow?" he asked. Sometimes she didn't feel matters between them were finished in one conversation. Sometimes she simply wanted to know what he'd done for a day longer.

Telling her twice in two days made him ache, but he would do so if she asked.

Lily studied him. "There are other times, too? Like snow in the summer?" she asked.

"Yes. Like snow in the summer."

She nodded. "Then let's have that. For a while."

Snape sat alone in the dark for much of that night, holding tightly to those words.

***

A week later, Snape watched Harry scrub the kitchen floor. He watched as the boy scrubbed with a combination of resentment and gusto. Watched the boy glance at the Veritaserum displayed on a kitchen shelf as a prominent reminder.

But the boy had been doing well. He answered all of Lily's questions honestly and fully.

Snape was thinking of giving him chores beyond simple menial tasks. He could complete those far faster than the boy through magical means, but at first he'd been wary of giving Harry anything more complicated. The tasks where his Harry had been a true help was in brewing Restituomens and in caring for Lily during her dark times. But this child was not adept at Potions, and his past conduct with Lily was questionable at best.

Harry finished the floor and looked up at Snape, breathing heavily. Snape nodded, performing a drying spell on the floor and on the boy's sodden shirt.

"Upstairs," he said. "Start with the toilet."

Harry stood up to leave silently, taking the bucket and brush with him. Snape caught his eye As he passed, before the boy looked away. He saw a flash of the night Harry had been grounded. The boy was either feeling remorseful or resentful. He'd bet on the latter. Harry had been unusually quiet since that night, and rarely made eye contact. Snape imagined he was sulking.

He thought that he should start training Harry, as this boy had remarkably few mental defenses. He nearly projected his thoughts. But training him meant admitting that this was the boy who would fight the Dark Lord. That his son wasn't coming back. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

It eased the lurching of his heart to give this boy more chores instead.

And yet, the boy desperately needed protection. No matter how much antagonism existed between them, it had been important to investigate the matter. It was unclear whether the sacrifice his mother made in his world would shield him here. But it was certainly true that he had less protection than his son, who had been guarded threefold by the family Patronus.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft taping at the front door.

Snape glanced at the small brass clock in the kitchen and sighed. Schooling his face, he strode to the door and opened it.

Remus Lupin stood there, holding a handful of wildflowers.

Snape jerked his head at him. "Round back," he said. He closed the door in his face.

He moved toward the back of the house, passing Lily in the living room. Lily flipped down the corner of the paper she was reading. "Who was that?"

Snape paused. Her memory only lasted a couple hours these days, and she was due for a new cycle in a few minutes. "You'll see," he said. "Would you mind getting the tea ready?"

Lily gave him an exasperated look but hopped off the sofa. Cups clattered as he exited the back door. At the gate to the garden, Lupin was waiting.

"Am I allowed in, now? I thought perhaps there was a doggy door I needed to crawl through."

"Appealing suggestion," said Snape, but he stood aside to let Lupin into the garden. He indicated a small iron-wrought table with chairs scattered about it. "She'll be out shortly."

Lupin seated himself. "And Harry?"

Snape looked up to see a dark-haired figure at one of the upstairs windows. "I'll see to that now." He re-entered the living room and had almost made it to the stairs when a tangle of arms and legs barreled into him. Harry stumbled back and tried to duck around, but Snape blocked him.

"Where are you going?"

The boy tried to peer around Snape's form. "I saw Professor Lupin out back."

"He's visiting."

"I want to see him."

"Do you recall the grounds on which you're allowed to leave this house?"

"Yes," he hopped impatiently, "Sir. I need permission."

"Have I given it?"

Harry looked pained. "I made breakfast. I scrubbed the downstairs floors. I...I...Lupin helped me last year, and I want to talk to him..." His eyes searched the room as though looking for an argument that would get him outside. The boy was floundering. The boy was clearly not a Slytherin.

Snape took pity on him. "Ten minutes," he said.

Harry bolted around him so quickly, Snape felt the breeze of his passing.

He returned to the garden with Lily. She'd gotten through her disorientation quickly and insisted on carrying the tea tray out. He found Harry and Lupin whispering amongst themselves.

Lupin beamed when he caught sight of Lily and rose to help her.

"What were you two discussing?" Snape asked as Lupin and Lily exchanged greetings.

"Nothing," said Harry defensively. Snape stared down at him, but before he could peel the truth from his mind, Lupin spoke up.

"Harry was telling me that you heard from Sirius Black."

Snape approached Lupin's chair and stood rigidly over him. He watched Lily set out the tea and forced a thin smile. "He dropped us a line. I'd love to return the favor, but he neglected to supply a return address. Perhaps you could be so kind?"

A flush crept up Lupin's neck. "I don't know where he is."

"And if you did, you wouldn't tell me."

"We saw Pettigrew. Surely your own son has told you."

Harry started. "I'm not-" He bit his lip, looking from Lupin to Lily.

Despite Harry's reflexive outburst, Snape found himself relaxing. He moved to his chair and sat down. Your own son. Such words made him feel that he'd won a battle in an unspoken war. He accepted his cup of tea from Lily. She was frowning, clearly trying to follow the conversation.

Lupin accepted his own cup, then leaned toward Snape. "He's blameless," he whispered.

Snape stirred milk into his tea solemnly. His son had been very clear about Pettigrew's appearance and confession. And yet, he knew Black. His responsibility in the attack on Lily felt true; it felt right.

"Perhaps," said Lupin, "the best solution is to form a visiting arrangement, like you and I have."

Snape's hand froze over his cup. "Never."

Lily stirred her cup of tea. "Someone wants to visit? Is he a friend?"

"Yes," said Lupin.

"No," said Snape.

She looked from one to the other. "Well, is he a friend of mine?"

"Yes," said Lupin.

"No," said Snape.

Lily rolled her eyes and drank her tea.

"You once had reservations about me," said Lupin, his sandy hair falling into his eyes.

"I still do. But I can predict and restrict your bestial turns."

"He's not dangerous."

Snape raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Not with Harry. He would never-"

"Throw him to the wolves?" asked Snape mildly.

Lupin colored, and for several minutes the only sound that could be heard was the clinking of spoons against china.

"Hmm," said Lily in surprise, holding out her hand. "An inscription appears on my wedding ring whenever I touch it. 'My heart, my soul. Severus.'" Her smile was like a shaft of sunlight.

Snape felt like a teenager caught passing a love note. He coughed, reaching for a scone. "That's a private message. Only you can see it." It also prevented scoundrels from claiming to be her husband, but he didn't mention that part. She was very touchy about what she saw as his over-protectiveness. He remembered when he'd tried to discourage her from getting a job at Hogwarts. His ears were still ringing.

"How did you get engaged?" asked Harry, his eyes narrowing on the ring like it was an angry scorpion.

"Yes, tell us," said Lily. "I bet it's romantic."

She'd lose that bet. "It's uninteresting."

"I'm sure no one minds," said Lupin. "After a year at Hogwarts, we could do with a bit of boredom."

"Unless there's some reason you don't want us to know," said Harry.

"There's nothing to tell. I had my mother's ring, and I asked her." He picked at his scone as he felt three pairs of eyes boring into him.

"There's got to be more to it than that," said Lily. "Did you at least get down on one knee?"

"Yes," he said. Lily gave a little hum of pleasure while the other two remained silent.

"It sounds," said Harry, "like you're not answering her questions honestly and fully."

Did the boy lie in bed at night, memorizing his words so that he could throw them back in his face? "If you must know," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "proposing wasn't my idea."

"So I proposed to you?" asked Lily, delighted.

"In a way," said Snape.

"Do you really feel that you're answering honestly and-"

"I wasn't going to ask her, all right?" said Snape. "So she made it happen."

"You weren't going to ask me?" she said, crossing her arms.

Snape ran a hand through his hair. "Lily, you were...not well. People were already whispering about how I'd taken you in. But you were getting better, and Harry was finally sleeping through the night. The house elf lent to us from Hogwarts was a help. And just when things were manageable, you got the idea in your head that we had to be married."

"So I did ask you."

"Every day, for a month, when I set Harry down for a nap." He didn't know how her subconscious managed to dredge up the same thought at the same time every day, but it did. She'd point out that they loved each other, and they were living together, and that she wanted the three of them to be a family. He came to dread those conversations. "You'd get very angry when I said no."

"What exactly did you say?" asked Lily.

"Different things."

Lily leaned back, arms still folded. "You mean you tried different answers every day to see which one I'd accept."

Snape stirred his tea glumly. That's exactly what he'd done.

You're welcome guests, he'd said.

Visitors in our own home, you mean, she'd reply.

We're already a family, we don't need marriage, he'd said.

How terribly modern of you, Severus, she'd reply.

Even though he'd known the argument was coming every day, he had never managed to win it.

Lily tapped her scone against her plate in a staccato rhythm. "I berated you into proposing? How horrible."

"Not exactly. One summer afternoon, when I was laying down Harry, you showed up looking pleased. You had my mother's ring on your finger. When I asked the house elf about it, he said that he was forbidden to tell you that you'd put the ring on herself."

"I don't follow," said Harry.

"She was convinced I had proposed. She had the ring as proof."

Lily let out a snort of laugher as she examined her ring. "I tricked myself."

"If I thought you were angry before, it was nothing compared to what I heard when I told you I hadn't proposed."

Lily clicked her tongue in satisfaction. "Called you a liar, did I?"

"Among other names. You thought I'd gotten cold feet and was," his eyes cut to Harry, "taking advantage of your situation so I could back out."

Lupin was smiling behind his cup. "And the house elf wouldn't support your story."

"He was under orders not to," he growled into his tea. "I was only allowed to take the ring back if I promised to propose properly."

"And you did!" said Lily, curling herself around his arm. "I don't know, that's rather romantic."

"But why don't you wish to talk about it?" asked Lupin. "Surely you've heard," he glanced at Harry, "what people say about your quick marriage."

"It's not the first unpleasant rumor I've experienced," said Snape.

"But if it really happened the way you say," said Harry, "then why-"

He was interrupted by Lupin smacking his hand down on the table. "No! Don't tell me that this is about a Gryffindor manipulating a Slytherin?"

Snape was silent.

"Really Sev, I'm allowed to have the upper hand sometimes."

"You have the upper hand all the time," he grumbled.

"But what about the wedding?" Harry asked. "That was...normal?"

"I don't wish to discuss that."

"You don't want to talk about the proposal, you don't want to talk about the wedding," Lily huffed. "Can we at least look at our wedding pictures?"

"I've looked. There's no pictures of the ceremony, just afterwards." Harry eyed Snape suspiciously. "It's like we're not allowed to know what happened."

"Oh, There's nothing underhanded, I'm sure," said Lupin. Snape blinked at him, surprised by his defense.

"Anyway," said Lupin, "A photographer wasn't there, so how could there be photos?"

"I don't need a photographer to create personal photographs." The Statua frame more than sufficed. Snape paused, turning over Lupin's words. "How do you know who was there?"

Lupin choked on a bit of scone. "I, er, heard about it."

Snape stared into Lupin's eyes and caught sight of his own wedding, as seen from far away, through the branches of a tree. Then the pale eyes became hooded, and the image flitted away.

"You were spying," he accused.

"I wasn't," said Lupin. "I was...passing through."

"Through a tree? Can you also transform into a shrew? Suits you better."

Lupin grimaced. "It's not as though I was invited."

Lily made a little moue before sipping her tea. "We should have invited him, Severus."

"Invitations are given to well-wishers. And when one is not invited, one should stay away."

"I did wish well."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"To...Lily," Lupin amended. "And Harry."

"So all of your lurking about that year was to find the opportunity to congratulate me on my new family? How touching."

Lupin drummed his fingers on the table. "I had concerns."

"You wanted to take in Harry and Lily yourself."

"Not really."

Snape hunted for an opening in those eyes.

Lupin looked away. "Well, the thought crossed my mind, at the time. I wanted everyone to be safe."

"And where safer than with you?"

Lupin tapped his empty cup with his fingernail. "I would have taken precautions."

"And what exactly would you have done?" Snape leaned toward Lupin and lowered his voice to a hiss. "If Lily had one of her relapses on the night of a full moon, and came looking for you in whatever part of your house you have barricaded? Please tell me, in graphic detail, what you would have done."

Lupin's fingertips whitened as he gripped the porcelain cup. "I told you," he murmured, "it was just a passing thought." He raised his voice to a normal level. "My primary concern was that everyone was protected."

"From me."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," said Lily. "I'm sure that's not what Remus meant."

Lupin smiled weakly. "Yes, well...it became clear you didn't need my protection. Anyway," he said, nodding to Snape, "the arrangement we made for visits is far more amenable. And less dangerous. I'm not the tree-climber Harry is."

Snape leaned back in his seat. "I was under the impression that you agreed to our arrangement because you didn't want me to call Magical Law Enforcement about your stalking."

"I don't recall you having a particularly friendly relationship with the Ministry Courts at the time." Lupin sighed, composing himself as he poured another cup of tea. "And it was your wedding that made me rethink my approach. It was quite a revelation."

Snape's insides froze. "How much did you see?"

"The entire ceremony." He smiled innocently as he plopped a sugar cube into his cup.

"Well, what was it like?" asked Lily, leaning forward eagerly.

Harry had leaned forward too, but was looking from Snape to Lupin, evidently aware something was going on between them.

"Quite beautiful," Lupin told Lily. "You looked radiant."

Snape started breathing again.

"Not a dry eye in the place. Wouldn't you say, Severus?"

Snape felt an uncontrollable blush forcing its way to the surface. He stood stiffly. "Excuse me."

He heard the crunch of Lupin's footsteps behind his as he approached the back door. He spun as Lupin entered the living room after him. He searched his mind for something to attack him with. His eyes fell on the package containing the blood vial Lupin had sent before his visit. "Come to offer another blood sample?"

"Just an apology."

"I prefer the blood."

Lupin smiled wryly. "I'm not surprised." He sighed and rolled up his sleeve. "If you must."

Snape hadn't expected Lupin to agree. His supposed blood tests were only expected once a month. But it would certainly be good to have some samples in reserve. Snape led Lupin toward the passageway to his workroom.

"Oh," said Lupin as a bookcase slid aside. "A secret passageway?"

Snape grunted affirmatively, descending the staircase. "I find them useful. Despite past associations."

"We're not going to re-hash that again. You know that I wouldn't have gone along with Sirius's plan."

"You were certainly willing to go along with others. Your attempts at humiliation today must bring back fond memories of him."

Lupin growled in a disturbingly wolf-like manner as they entered the workroom. "It's just a little teasing, Severus. I don't mean you any harm."

Snape opened a drawer and brandished a silver knife. "How fortunate for you."

Lupin had a look of trepidation, but extended his arm.

Snape made the cut quickly and cleanly, and set a vial on the table below. With a tap of his wand, the droplets of blood fell in a slight arc into the vial.

Lupin watched, entranced. "It really was a lovely wedding," he said after a moment. "I wasn't joking about that."

Snape busied himself with cleaning the knife. "I was there."

"But you don't like to talk about it."

The blush was threatening to return. "I talk about it when she asks me."

"But not honestly and fully, as Harry says."

Blast the boy. "The details aren't relevant."

"If you gave in to a burst of...ah, emotion, that's not so terrible. It shows how much you love her."

It shows how much I hurt her. "She already knows that." Then he bit his tongue. Why was he confessing anything to this man? He snatched the vial and sealed it, placing a preservation charm on it. Lupin followed him as he left the workroom.

"There's tension between you and Harry these days," observed Lupin.

Snape didn't bother looking back at him as he crossed the living room. "He's not the boy I used to know."

"People change."

"He's changed into an irresponsible child with no awareness of the needs of others."

"He's thirteen." Lupin touched Snape's shoulder with a tentative gesture to stop. Snape turned to him at the door to the garden, arms folded. "It's just...you two were always so close. I remember visiting Lily at Hogwarts, eight or nine years ago, and seeing little Harry clinging to your shoulders like a..."

"A monkey." Snape fingered his robes, hearing the crackle of paper through the fabric. He didn't need to pull the paper out to know exactly what was on it: stick figures of Lily and Snape, holding hands. And a stick figure Harry, perched atop Daddy's shoulders.

A raw nausea swept over him. "I used to put a binding charm on my robes. Lily required so many potions then, but if I tried to set Harry down..."

"He'd cry loud enough to shake the walls. I remember. In those days, you had the air of a man ready to jump off the nearest bridge."

Snape gave him a dark glare, but regrettably ruined the effect when a corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"That is," continued Lupin, "you had that air until you picked up Harry."

Snape recalled one predawn morning, several months after he had rescued Lily and Harry from Privet Drive. Lily had finally fallen asleep, exhausted from the torment the curse was wreaking on her mind. Harry had been crying all night, and Snape had picked him up and carried him downstairs. Sitting in an armchair, he rocked his own body and stroked the soft round back in a rhythm that soothed the both of them.

It wasn't the first time he'd done this, but it was the first time he realized that these moments renewed him. The tiny hands clutched at his neck and he was filled with a strength and direction he'd never known.

Snape rubbed at his neck now, but of course there was nothing there. "I just did what he needed," he said to Lupin.

"He still needs you now," the man replied.

They were interrupted by a scream coming from the garden. Snape was outside before the sound had fully registered. Lily was lying on the ground near her chair. Her palms were pressed to her temples, her fingers digging into her skull. Harry was kneeling over her, hands clutching one of her trembling arms.

He looked up as Snape rushed forward. "She asked me why I wouldn't call you Dad, and I...I said his name." Harry ran his fingers through his unruly hair, his eyes wide. "I didn't think, why didn't I think?" He rocked back and forth.

Snape fell to Lily's side, calling her name. She opened her eyes, and, seeing him, clung to him. "He's inside my head," she said, over and over. He held her tightly.

Harry had his arms wrapped around himself, and was still rocking. Lupin knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, but Harry didn't appear to feel it. "What can we do?" Lupin asked.

Snape shook his head as Lily trembled against him.  The curse could do more than scrape away the past few hours, or minutes.  Sometimes it caused her to relive the moment it was cast. It was devastating in its unpredictability. 

"There isn't a potion, or..."

"They help, but nothing can stop it completely." The curse he'd created was far too powerful for that. He was filled with a cold self-loathing. He pushed it aside as best he could, focusing on Lily. He helped her to her feet. "I think it best if you go."

"Surely you need-"

"I need you to go."

Lupin opened his mouth to say something more, but then he simply nodded and reluctantly moved toward the gate. Lily leaned on Snape as he led her to their bedroom. she spoke brokenly of Voldemort's attack. He listened quietly as he stroked his fingers through her hair, ivory in a crimson sea.

Her emotional exhaustion finally overtook her. He gave her a potion for dreamless sleep and stayed in a wing chair by the bed as she slumbered.

That boy. It felt right to resent him. Then he recalled Lupin's words about Black, and wondered. He wore resentment and suspicion like an old familiar coat. Of course it felt right. But there were times when he had been served well by not trusting his instincts. Instead, he had trusted Lily. Trusted his son.

He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep himself until he opened his eyes at the sound of the door creaking open. Harry stood there, looking forlorn.

"How is she?" he asked.

Snape gazed at Lily. "The effects of the Restituomens potion is weakening. But I can only give her a dose once a month. She'll get worse before she gets better." He rubbed at his eyes.

"Isn't there anything else we can do?" The boy looked like he'd been ill.

Snape realized with a pang that he'd left the child when he'd clearly been in distress. But his Harry would have never...

He stopped the thought before he finished it. He wasn't going to do this. They were both exhausted, both lost. As Lily circled downward, he would need the boy's help. And the boy clearly needed to help.

He leaned forward in his seat, his arms folded over his knees. "Would you like to stay with her until she wakes?"

Harry shifted from one foot to the other. "I want to," he said. "But..." he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, "...my chores."

Snape saw his handwriting on the paper, listing the boy's chores for the day. The list was extensive. A fog parted, and Snape saw a weight the boy was carrying. A weight he hadn't asked for. The weight of a stolen child. "We can set that aside for now."

"No, I'm grounded," he said firmly. "I should do them."

"That's noble." Or masochistic. "But not necessary."

Harry was studying him intently. " I should be punished. I said..." he bit his lip. "Why isn't that one of the rules?"

Snape sighed. "It never needed to be. The other Harry learned at a very young age that his name could hurt her. He used to cry when he heard anyone say it."

Harry was staring at the cracks between the floorboards. "Do you still hate him? After...everything?"

Snape ran a hand through his hair. Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew. It had been years since he stopped checking over his shoulder for their silhouettes. And yet, they continued to hover over him. "Yes," he finally admitted. "Even if it weren't for the past...He's tangled in my life, far more than I can abide." He paused, searching for something positive to say. "I realize that's not fair."

"No, it's not," said Harry. "He didn't deserve what happened to him."

"True." Snape fingered his wedding ring, his hands heavy. "Sometimes you don't get what you clearly deserve. It's one of the few things we have in common." He stood and gestured for the boy to take his seat.

Harry wrinkled his brow as he sat. "You have something in common?"

Severus watched the soft afternoon light fall on his wife and the boy next to her. Watched their skin glow in the light, like fragile glass. Watched as Harry's breathing steadied, and matched hers. "Yes. We have that. But we also have snow in summer."