Three months passed and though Severus searched frantically for a way to halt the disease, Lily grew gradually worse as time went by.  Some days she was fine, nearly her old self, able to play with her son and go shopping with her mother and Alice, or cook and go for walks with Severus.  But on her bad days she was tired and had almost no energy, and her fingers and toes ached and throbbed like seven hells and her head spun. 

Severus had brewed several types of potions, which he administered to her as needed, or on a daily basis.  One of those was a Class Five Pain Reliever, for sometimes she got cramps in her back and legs so bad she almost passed out, and the only thing that helped was that potion and Severus's massages.  He soon became an expert in that area, often giving Lily a massage before bed and in the morning as well, to keep her muscles from stiffening up too badly.

On her really bad days she lay in bed, too exhausted to move, alternately sleeping and wracked with fever, chills, nausea, and grinding pain everywhere.  Those flares sometimes occurred when she stayed up too late, or had tried to do too much the day before, or grew stressed over the fact that she could no longer be as independent and was slowly dying, by inches.

Severus cared for her then, with all of the compassion and tenderness of the most devoted lover, sometimes exchanging call with Matthew or rearranging his office hours.  But he could see the inevitability in her eyes at times, when he helped her drink the potions and fed her broth and soft bread with butter.  His Healer instincts warned him that the disease was slowly overtaking her, affecting her organs little by little, and not all of his magic would be enough to repair the damage eventually.

But he was stubborn and so was she, they were warrior-born, for all that they had never slain a dark wizard, and neither would surrender without a fight.  Severus fought with his intellect and his knowledge, working on ever more advanced potions and spells to build up what immunity Lily had left, and to stave off the infections that were so common to ones who were stricken with such a disease.  He spent hours and hours researching, in libraries in St. Mungos and other wizarding hospitals, in Muggle ones as well, using everything he could to prolong his beloved's life. 

There were times that Lily feared for him more than she did herself.  Feared that he was pushing himself too hard, that he would crack under the pressure.  She begged him not to work so hard, to take a night off, but he refused.

"I will beat this, Lily," he said to her one night, in bed, as he held her oh so gently against him.  "Death will not claim you.  I promise!"

"Severus, please! You're obsessing over this, love.  It's not . . .it's not healthy."

He stared at her, aghast.  "What would you have me do, Lily? Accept it? Accept the fact that you're . . ."

"Dying?" she finished.  "You and I know that is the eventual outcome, Sev."

"No!" he shouted.  "That's a possible outcome, not the only one. I refuse for it to be the only one.  God Almighty, Lily, you cannot ask me to give up . . .not now . . .I'm so close . . .if only I could find the key . . .!"

"The key to what, Sev? Immortality?  You know as well as I that there is no such thing.  Voldemort taught us well the folly of trying to become immortal.  We are all mortal and someday we shall all die."

"I know that, damn it!" he cried, frustration making his voice sharp and hard. "But it's not your time, Lily! Not yet!"

"Are you sure, Sev?  Master Healer though you are, you are not God."

"This once, Lily Ann Snape, I shall prove Death wrong." He declared fiercely.  Then he crushed her to him, murmuring, "I love you, Lil, I love you too damn much to let you go!"

And she could say nothing, only hold him, for her heart agreed with him, and she died a little each time when she thought about never being able to be with him ever again.  She was not ready to go gently into the night, and slip down the starry road to the place where shadows go, the bright heaven where all was goodness and light.  Her soul was bound still to earth, and her heart to the man beside her, who had loved her faithfully all of his life, and who had asked only that she love him in return.  And she had, with a depth of passion and devotion she had never known she possessed.

Even so, she was afraid. 

In order to combat the fear, the ever present fear that Death hovered over her shoulder, watching and waiting, she took to writing in a small green leather-bound journal.  She wrote of her days fighting lupus, about the past, about her hopes and dreams for a future she might never see.  But most of all she wrote for her son, who might never recall her except by reading this journal, and for her husband, so that he might gain a measure of peace by reading it when she was gone.

Lily's Journal

November 15, 1983

Another bad day, it seems like there has been little for me to do save rest in this bed.  I am so weary, but I have learned to take each day as it comes, and to fight the constant exhaustion by focusing on a task and then making myself complete it.  Sometimes the task is simple, getting dressed, sitting up, eating the food Sev has placed on my tray.  Things that once I would have hardly thought about, have now become goals that I can strive for. 

The exhaustion is my constant companion now, I can feel it even while I sleep, and so sleep doesn't help me as much as it should.  Sev gives me Dreamless Sleep, but it muddles my head and I cannot think, much less write, the next morning, and often I only pretend to take it.  I know it's foolish, but I want to be able to think, I don't want to be drugged into oblivion, no matter how good it is for my health.

Stuck in this blasted bed most of the day, with only Misty or my mother or Harry for company, since Severus is at work, I write to keep the fear at bay.  For if I do not, it shall overwhelm me and I shall become a raving lunatic and end up in the ward at St. Mungos.  What do I fear, you ask? Not death, oddly enough.  No, I fear leaving myself behind.  I fear not being able to see my son grow up.  I fear that Severus will fall apart when I am gone and do himself an irreparable injury.  But most of all I fear that I will lose everything I fought so hard to gain in this life.  My job, my home, my husband.  My beautiful baby boy.  I love them so much, that the mere thought of never seeing them again makes me ill.

I recall a conversation Sev and I had on our honeymoon, soon after I had discovered his secret shame-that his father had abused and beaten him as a child-he had asked me how it was that I could love him so much when I had loved James before.  I answered, "James and I shared a young love, a springtime love.  It was wild and passionate and in it's own way meaningful, but I don't know if it would have lasted.  When he was home, we tended to argue, he had different views on almost everything, my place as his wife, raising Harry, we were a study in contrasts.  Sometimes that sort of relationship works, but other times . . .I'm not sure if James would have remained faithful to me forever.  There was a restlessness in him, a longing that I felt that I could not satisfy, no matter that I loved him. There was always a part of him that looked away . . .to the next challenge, the next adventure, perhaps even the next pretty girl eventually . . .Oh, he loved me well enough in the beginning, but years later . . .my heart whispered that he might not love me then.  Ours was a young love, all flash and fire." She smiled reminiscently. "But you, Sev, you I love as a woman grown, not a young girl.  You I feel passion for and also something more, something deeper.  I know I need never fear that someday you will tire of me and leave, you will stay, throughout all the seasons, and be beside me.  Yours is a love that I can grow old with, steadfast and true.  We may disagree, but never irrevocably, and when I most need you, there you'll be.  And vice versa. That is the love I feel for you, Severus Snape, a love to last for all of my life, the love of a woman for a man who loves her without reservation."

And then he kissed me and that night was one of the most passionate I have ever known.  Oh, Sev! How I wish I could grow old with you! I would not mind it, not the way some do, for we could age gracefully together, and I would be able to see Harry go to school, and grow up, and perhaps marry and have children.  I would love to be a grandmother, Severus.  I think I would make a good one.  And you, of course would be the doting grandfather, who would pretend to be a strict old patriarch, but who would fool no one. 

I would love to fulfill that promise I made so long ago, Severus.  Two years is hardly enough, I want so much to stay with you forever, to feel your arms about me, and hear you say my name in that sweet seductive way you have.  I want to walk along the beach with you, and the meadow in the moonlight, or count the stars as I lie with my head in your lap.  Remember how we used to do that at school, back when we were young and innocent? You were older and wiser than me, you always knew I was meant for you. It is so unfair, that just when our life together is beginning, it must darken and fade. 

I hate to say goodbye, Sev.  I want so much to never leave you, but I'm afraid that one day I must, and I cannot see the page for the tears that I cry.  Why can't we have what others do, what they take for granted? Why must we always get the short end of the stick, dammit?

Now I'm angry, and I haven't the strength to be angry today.  But somehow I am, and I feel almost better.  My anger gives me strength, strength to continue to fight just one more day.  You need me and I need to be here, with you and Harry, my parents, and my friends.  I can feel my strength returning . . .my magic responding to me, and the exhaustion flees, for now.

Lily's health rallied all through the Christmas holidays, but after all the hustle and bustle was over and the presents opened and the tree taken down and the leftovers eaten, her strength flagged and she started worsening. 

Her condition took a turn for the worse one day in early January, soon after ringing in the New Year, a week before Severus's birthday.  She had awoken feeling a little woozy, but she was determined to fix Harry breakfast, as she had been doing for part of the Christmas holiday.  She rose, put on her dressing gown, and her soft fuzzy slippers, and went into the kitchen. 

Harry was already there, still in his pajamas, and he grinned when he saw his mother. "Mummy, are you feeling better now?"

Lily nodded.  "Yes, scamp.  Now, what would you like for breakfast?"

Harry thought for a minute.  "Uh, can you make pancakes, Mum?"

"Of course. Can you get me the flour and sugar, Harry?" Lily asked.

While Harry scampered off to the pantry, Lily put a hand to her head.  She was feeling slightly dizzy, but determined not to give in to it.  She had been doing so well, why did this have to happen now? She needed to get the griddle from the cabinet beneath the stove, and she leaned over to do so, and suddenly felt her head begin to spin.

How strange, I feel like one of those plastic tops Tuney and I used to play with, spinning round and round.

Then she felt the world go dark.

Harry was returning from the pantry with the container of sugar when he heard the thud.  "Mummy? Here's the sugar." He walked around the counter, holding the sugar tightly. 

Only to drop it when he caught sight of Lily motionless on the floor.

"Mummy?" he called, not understanding.  "Why is you on the floor?"

He went over and shook Lily's shoulder.  She did not respond. He shook her harder.  "Mummy? Mummy? Wake up!"

Still Lily did not open her eyes or stir.

Frightened now, Harry began crying. "Wake up, Mummy! You can't sleep on the floor!"

But Lily remained limp, her auburn hair lying in a fiery swath on the cream colored linoleum, pale and stricken.

Harry shook Lily's shoulder and sobbed.  "Please get up, Mum! Get up!"

Harry did not know what had happened to her, but he was smart enough to know that something was very wrong with his mother.  And he knew that one person could always fix you when you were sick.  He also remembered that his daddy had always said to use the mirror hanging on the wall if they ever needed to call him. 

Racing into the den, he located the mirror on a string hanging next to the TV, and he grabbed it.  The mirror swirled and he shouted, "Daddy! I need you! Mummy fell down and she won't get up!"

The mirror cleared and Severus's face appeared in it.  "Harry? What are you doing with my mirror?"

"Daddy! You need to come home!" his son sobbed, almost incoherent.

"Harry, stop crying. I can't understand you. Harry, listen to me. I need you to take a deep breath.  Good.  Now, tell me what's the matter, son.  Slowly."

Harry followed his dad's directions, trying hard to breathe and stop crying and speak slowly.  It was hard.  "Dad, Mum fell down and she won't get up."

"What? Is she awake, Harry?"

"No.  She's asleep.  I called and called and she won't wake up."

Severus shook his head. "All right, Harry.  Stay there and I will be right over."

Then the mirror went dark and Harry stayed there, waiting for Severus to arrive.

Severus Apparated into the den a few minutes later, looking about a little wildly.  "Harry? Where is your mum?"

"Dad! She's in the kitchen.  She was gonna make pancakes."

Severus dashed into the kitchen and knelt down beside his wife.  He quickly felt for a pulse, gasping in relief when he felt it.  He cast a quick diagnostic and found Lily was suffering from major exhaustion, a drop in blood sugar, and a headache.  Her magic was fluctuating wildly as it sought to revive her and try and restore blood glucose levels at the same time. 

Severus scooped her up in his arms, carrying her into the bedroom.  He carefully spelled a Glucose Increase Elixir directly into her stomach and also an energy draft. Then he cast a spell to awaken her, "Ennervate!"

Lily stirred, then opened her eyes.  She blinked  and said softly,  "Sev? What are you doing here?"

"You passed out and Harry called me," Severus said.  He placed a hand on her forehead. "Hmmm . . .no fever. And you didn't crack your head open, from what I can tell.  Do you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head.  "No, I just feel sort of tired.  Poor Harry.  I must have scared him to death.  Where is he?"

"In the den, I think.  I'll get him," Severus said, and left her to fetch his son.

Harry was sitting on the couch when Severus came in.  "Daddy? Is Mummy okay?"

Severus picked him up.  "Yes, Harry.  She just got a bit tired and well, you can come and see for yourself.  I'm very proud of you for remembering to use my mirror to call me."

Harry grinned.  "Was that what you meant by a ‘mergency, Daddy?"

"Yes, Harry.  That was exactly what I meant by an emergency." He hugged his son hard. "Come, your Mum's awake and wants to see you."

"Is she gonna make pancakes now?"

"Maybe a bit later." Severus said softly, and then he carried his son into the bedroom to see Lily.

"Harry, I'm so sorry I scared you, scamp," Lily said, reaching out her arms to hug him.

Harry threw his arms about her and held on tight.  "It's okay, Mummy.  I just called Daddy on the mirror like he said.  Are you all better now?"

Lily sighed, wishing she could say yes.  "No, love.  I'm afraid I need to sleep a bit.  I'm sorry."

Harry put his head on her shoulder, very relieved that his mother was awake.  "S'all right.  I don' really want pancakes no more."

"Any more," Severus corrected automatically.  ‘I'll call Misty over, Lily.  Or would you rather I called Vi?"

Lily gazed up at him, chagrin and weariness battling in her eyes.  "My mother, please.  Give poor Misty a break."

"All right.  Let me call her.  You just relax.  Harry, keep your mother company."

"'Kay, Dad." Harry crawled over to the other side of the bed and sat next to his mother, looking at her worriedly.  "Does your head hurt, Mum?"

"No, love.  But I just need to rest more than I've been doing," Lily said, reaching out to stroke his hair.  "Thank you, Harry, for calling your dad.  That was a very smart thing you did." She leaned over and kissed him.  Lord, what a thing for him to have to see, me passed out on the floor like a drunken idiot.  My poor son! She ran her fingers through his messy hair.  She hated the fact that she couldn't do everything she wanted, that her son wouldn't remember her the way she remembered her own mother, as someone who baked and cooked and did fun things with her.  She cursed the damn disease that made her a prisoner in her own bed, and in her anger, her magic stirred and began to attack the lupus virus in her blood, trying to eradicate it. 

But the virus was far too widespread, and her magic could not combat it, though it tried, spending itself recklessly without her even being aware of it.  Severus returned and cast a repeat diagnostic , as well as one that monitored her magical reserves, and gasped in horror.  "Damn it, Lily! You've been using your magic to fight this again!"

"Sev, I haven't been casting any spells at all," Lily protested.

He shook his head.  "Well, something's activated your magic." He placed a hand on her arm, his face intense, and gave her a portion of his own magic, enough to prevent her from exhausting herself totally.  He also performed a spell to summon her wayward magic back, keeping it slightly dormant.

By the time he finished, he looked slightly gray and drawn.  His dark eyes were burnt holes in his head. "You need to rest, Lily.  I'll give you a Sleeping Draft and you should sleep for a good four hours. And here's your Nutrient Potion too." He handed her a vial.

She made a face, but drank it down.  "Sev, you look like you need a rest too."

He shrugged.  "I have a half a schedule of patients left to see, I need to be getting back to the office.  Your mum should be here in about ten minutes."

"Daddy, what about my pancakes?" Harry spoke up from where he had been leaning against his mother.  "I never got any breakfast."

Severus exchanged rueful glances with Lily. "I can make you pancakes, son."

Harry jumped up and into Severus's arms, and the Healer carried him into the kitchen to help make the promised pancakes. 

Vi arrived just as Harry was finishing his second pancake and Severus was putting sausages on a platter.  "Hello, Harry!" she came and hugged him.  "You smell so good." She gave him a kiss.

Then she turned to Severus.  "Sev, how is Lily?"

"She's in bed.  I have her on bed rest and I'll be giving her a Sleeping Draft too. Her magic tried to repair some of the damage and nearly drained her reserves, but I stabilized her.  All she needs is to be kept quiet for a few days and hopefully she'll recover soon.  In the meantime, your grandson can keep you busy, right, Harry?"

"Yup.  We can play Candy Land again, Gram."

Vi smiled at him, she had bought him the Candy Land game for Christmas.  "That's a great idea, Harry.  I love Candy Land. Why don't you go and get it and we'll play in the den, okay?"

"Wash your hands first, Harry, you've syrup on them," Severus ordered.

Harry halted in his rush to get to the cabinet under the TV where the game was stored.  "How'd you know that, Daddy?"

Severus hid a smirk.  "I'm your father, that's how."

Harry nodded, it didn't surprise him that his dad knew almost everything.

While Harry was washing his hands, Vi drew Severus off to the side and said quietly, "Severus, tell me the truth.  Can you truly invent a cure, or is this only a temporary thing?"

"Vi, right now everything I'm doing is to treat symptoms and prevent her magic from spiraling out of control trying to heal a virus that replicates quicker than it can be destroyed." Severus admitted softly.  "But I'm not giving up on a cure, Vi.  My research is simply taking me more time than I thought.  But I'm close to finding a potion that can restore the lost antibodies the lupus kills.  I just need more time." He ran a hand through his hair agitatedly.

"And what if you can't, Sev? Not that I doubt you, but . . .you and I both know it's a possibility."

He was silent for a long moment.  "Yes.  If I can't . . .then I shall treat her as best I can with magic until . . ." He trailed off, not wanting to say the awful words out loud.  "But hopefully it won't come to that, Vi.  I swore on my Healer's Oath I would save her."

Vi looked at the young man before her and her heart went out to him.  She knew he had known too much loss in his life to ever take anything for granted, and he was fighting so hard to hold on to his wife, it fair broke her heart.  For she had an odd premonition that this was going to end in tragedy. 

Abruptly, she reached out and hugged the tall wizard. "Just do the best you can, luv.  That's all anyone can ask."

She released him a moment later, and he looked at her, startled. "What was that for?"

"Because you looked like you could use a hug, Healer Snape. Go on, better get back to work before your patients come looking for you," she told him. "I'll hold down the fort here."

"I'll see you later.  Thank you, Vi."

"Go on with you, Sev! I don't need you to thank me for doing what ought to be done. You're family, after all." She waved him off, and he disappeared a moment later.

Her grandson ran into the room then.  "I'm all clean, Gran.  Now let's play, okay?"

Vi smiled assent and Harry went to get the game from the closet.

* * * * * *

Lily's journal

March 17, 1984

Today is St. Patrick's Day, and if we were in Ireland, we'd be having a big party.  But instead we're in London and the only thing we're doing to mark the holiday is coloring the milk green and making corned beef and cabbage and boiled potatoes and Harry has drawn several pictures of shamrocks and leprechauns and rainbows.

Several of them are hanging in my bedroom now, so I can look at something other than the boring walls.  My son is so thoughtful sometimes, the little scamp! I have been doing worse as the lupus has nearly destroyed much of my immune system, slowly but surely.  Lately, I've been plagued with endless rounds of arthritis, and chest colds, as the disease attacks my joints and respiratory system.

Severus does his best to alleviate the symptoms, but I am so tired of being dosed with potions.  I know it's necessary, but I'm beginning to dread the appearance of that silver tray in my room. His brilliant potion to restore my white blood cell count was rejected, my body could not tolerate it, much to my dismay.  And his.  I felt so terrible, that my own body should betray me thus, and after all his weeks of hard work too!

Sev says he will try again, a different variation.  But I hold little hope that it will work.  I have been on a downward spiral since January and I fear that my days are numbered, however much Severus seeks to deny it.  There is an odd sort of knowing that comes with being close to death, and I can sense myself fading more and more each day.

I continue to write in this journal, hoping that one day Harry will read it and learn about me from it as more than just a picture on a page.  I love you so much, Harry James Severus! I wish above all to be there to watch you grow, though I know you will turn out to be a fine young man.  I would have liked to see you go off to Hogwarts, though I probably would have embarrassed you past bearing crying at Platform 9and ¾'s.  I am pondering now what House you might be in.  You have a kind and generous heart, so perhaps Hufflepuff? But your mischievous streak and recklessness point to your Gryffindor side, inherited from James.  And yet, I also see that you push yourself, you are already a year or two ahead of most kids your age, so maybe you would fit best in Slytherin, like Severus.  And you're definitely smart enough for a Ravenclaw.

My beautiful baby boy, I knew from the first moment I held you in my arms that you were special, meant to do great things.  I suppose all mothers think that about their firstborn, but it's the truth, nonetheless.  You were quick to sit up, and laugh, and you walked all at once at eight months, and astonished everyone.  Except for me, who had been expecting it. 

I have a feeling you will continue to surprise everyone with your intelligence and your magic, which I could tell was strong even as an infant, though it was sleeping. Use your power wisely, Harry, and try not to drive your dad crazy.  He loves you to pieces, though he might scold you half to death.  And when I am gone to heaven, you will be his only family, so love him forever, Harry.  He needs you, son.

She set down her quill abruptly, blotting her eyes with a handkerchief.  Damn, she had sworn she would not get all teary-eyed, but it was impossible not to.  There was a lump in her throat the size of a glacier every time she considered the possibility that she would die at age twenty-four, having barely had time to live, or to grow old.  And now she never would.

She closed her eyes and tears seeped from beneath her lashes.  She hastily wiped them away.  It wasn't fair! There was so much she wanted to do, to see, to experience.  She and Severus were supposed to have a lifetime together, not this paltry few years, one of them marked with a chronic fatal illness.

She slammed her fist down on the table in impotent anger. 

Then she sighed and resolved to make the most of the time she had left.

Lily's journal

June 18, 1984

It is as I feared.  As the lupus progresses, I am growing weaker and more resigned. Twice now Sev had to repair my lungs and once my kidneys. Decongestion drafts, Class Five Pain Relievers, Blood Replenisher, Energy Increasers, have become part of my meal everyday.  Lately, I've been unable to keep much down except chicken soup and water and crackers.  I feel like I did when I was pregnant with Harry.  Only this time there will be no happy reward.

Sev has tried repeatedly to dose me with new variations of his Immunity Antibody Repair Elixir, but I cannot tolerate any of them.  It is as if there is something within me that says-enough! This is not to be.  I can sense, in some odd way, that I am not long for this world, and I grieve that I will no longer be able to hold my child, and see him grow, or to kiss my husband and fall asleep in his arms after a night of passion. 

One night I woke and saw Sev weeping, quietly, he is never one to let his emotions run wild, but I could feel the despair and loss radiating from him, and I almost went to him to hug him.  But I hesitated, he is proud, my Healer, and would not want me to see him sobbing so openly, even though I have comforted him before, from nightmares and such. So I watched, and wept silently along with him, for I would never wish to cause him pain, who has been so marked by it already.

Perhaps it would be best if one night I slipped away, like an old dog, to die alone, and so spare my family the agony of watching me fade away, and be helpless to prevent it. 

But even as I think that, I know I've not the courage to do so.  I am scared and selfish, I do not want to die alone, and so I stay and cling to the familiar, and curse myself for a coward even as I clutch Sev's hand in the middle of the night.  It is not the dying so much I fear, as it is leaving those I love behind. In the realm of shadows, beyond heaven's gate, James awaits me and so do all the others who have gone before, but still I do not wish to say goodbye to Severus and Harry or my parents, or even Petunia.  I want to remain here with them, and live out my life.

But I don't think I can make that choice, and so I must use the time I have to its best advantage.  It is all I can do.  My magic has refused to go back to sleep, and now it fights within me, here, there, and everywhere, struggling to heal me. It is burning itself out, as I don't have the reserves to maintain this level of power, and as my magic fades, so do I. 

But it is a gradual thing, and painless.  For that, at least, I am most grateful. I cannot calculate how long I have left, Severus refuses to share that with me, or perhaps he does not know.  I pray that I make it to Harry's birthday and our anniversary, I do not wish to die on either of those days.  They would be tarnished forever.  How ironic, that I, who had so many goals, to be a good mother, and an Auror, and an understanding wife, has now only one goal left to accomplish.

To die in a time and a place of my choosing.

But that much I will do.  I have magic enough within me still to grant me this one last choice.

Now I must set this aside, for I am too weary to concentrate.  I need to think of a gift for Harry, something special, something that he can remember me by.

But right now I must sleep.

Lily Snape carefully set her quill and journal aside on the nightstand.  She turned and looked at her husband, his ebony hair tousled, sleeping soundly next to her, and then she snuggled up next to him and allowed his strength to surround her, his arms to hold her close, secure in the knowledge that Severus would always be there, unto the last breath, and she would not be alone.  The greatest sacrifice shall be made, not by me, but by you, beloved, and as God is my witness, I cherish you for it. Then she leaned over and kissed him, her lips gentle as the wind's caress, and in his sleep Severus smiled.

Then Lily allowed herself to drift off into the realm of dreams, where she was whole and strong and Severus and Harry lived happily ever after with her, a dream that would be lost upon waking, but beautiful while it lasted.