1981

As the night grew darker and the fog hung thick in the air, Lily Potter walked through the Muggle streets of Privet Drive. Upon coming to number four, the young witch of twenty looked down into her arms. Harry was still sound asleep. A sad smile graced her lips and her emerald eyes shown with unshed tears. He really was all she had left.

Knocking on the door, the Gryffindor waited, hoping that someone would answer. After another knock, the door opened to reveal Vernon Dursley’s bulky frame. He was gaining much too much weight. “What do you want?” he spat.

Scowling darkly at her brother-in-law, the witch pulled out her wand and pointed it at the fat man. “Careful Vern,” her voice was deadly. “How terrible it would be for you to die when your son’s not even two.”Blanching, Dursley wisely stepped aside for his wife’s sister to enter. Without further invitation, Lily swept past Vernon and went into the parlor. This place still pained her to look at. “Petunia?”

Sitting by the fireplace, the blond woman looked up from feeding Dudley at the sound of her name. “Lily!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Lily, what are you doing here? Come in! You look dreadful.”

Without hesitation, the younger sister did as she was told and sat close to her sister. Instantly tears began streaming from her tired eyes and she rocked her little Harry back and forth in her arms gently. “I…I don’t know what I’m going to do, Tunie! I just don’t know!” she whispered softly.

Waiting until Vernon had gone completely up the stairs, Petunia set Dudley down safely on the couch, making sure he would not roll off. Then, kneeling before her sister, Petunia looked into the anguished face of her younger sister. “What is it, Lily? What’s wrong?”

Looking up, Lily’s eyes were so broken and she looked visibly five years older than her sister. “Petunia…if I…if I died, would you look after my baby?”

Horrified, Petunia shot back away from her sister, as though the girl had tried to hit her. “If you died?” she repeated in disbelief. “Lily I don’t think that-”

“Well Sev died!” the witch spat bitterly, more tears falling form her eyes. “He was younger than I am now…only a year ago…He was so young…”

Throwing her arms around her sister, Petunia felt her own eyes sting. Had it been one year ago today that Severus had died? It must be so, Lily would not forget. That’s probably why she was here, she needed someone that understood her, someone that knew the truth. “Oh, my dear Lily!” Petunia kissed the top of her sister’s hair. “You are not going to die!”

“You don’t know that,” she said sulkily. “Dumbledore… he told James and I of this…this prophecy. He said that we were supposed to go into hiding soon. That…that the Dark Lord was going to come after us… after my baby.”

Terror spiked through Petunia’s heart for her sister and nephew. “What?” she could not believe what she had been told. “Lily, why would this Dark Lord want Harry?”

The young mother looked down into the face of her sleeping child. She grimaced at the tiny face, her heart breaking every time she looked upon it. “Because he believes that my son will grow up to defeat him,” the resentful tone was openly displayed. “He already took my Severus away from me and now he wants my Harry! I just can’t take it anymore!”

“Lily,” Petunia grasped her sister’s shoulders firmly. “Lily, don’t talk like that. You act as though you’re sure this…this Hitler is going to win!”

“I certainly hope he won’t,” Lily said, her normal ferociousness coming out. But then, all too quickly, it died back down into dwindling embers. “But Petunia, if something were to happen to James and I, I want you to take care of Harry for me. Please!”

Petunia found herself nodding. “Of course Lily.”

“And I want you , when he’s old enough and is able to understand magic better, to give him these,” she balanced Harry carefully as she took out several tiny objects from her pocket. With a swish of her wand, she was able to make them grow into their original sizes.

Enchanted, the Muggle woman watched as a journal and many little vials with a swirling, white, silver substance swished around. It looked too light to be water, but was much too heavy to be air. There were also several other documents that unshrunk and were now lying out by the journal. “W-what is all this?” Petunia’s eyes were wide with wonder and a bit of fear.

“Things for Harry,” Lily replied flatly. “These,” she motioned to the vials while resettling her sleeping baby, “are my memories. I want Harry to have them should I not be around. When he goes off to school, he’ll learn how to use them.

“This,” she went on, pointing to the document, “is his real birth certificate and other such registration. In this journal,” Lily’s sharp green eyes had her sister squirming, “is a letter. I want you to give it to Harry when you think he’s old enough. Only after you give him this letter are you to give him the rest of these things. Do you understand?”

Nodding numbly, Petunia stared at all of the belongings Lily had brought and listened intently as she went through what was what. “Vernon can’t find out about these,” she said after her sister was finished.

Carefully, Lily took her wand and floated a nearby jewelry box over to where she was sitting. Then, shrinking everything back down into miniscule proportions, she send each tiny piece of inheritance into the box. When she closed it, she tapped it three times with her wand. The little inlayed wooden box glowed blue for a moment before fading back down into its normal colors.

“When you open this box,” Lily said gently, giving it back to her sister, “the items within will unshrink when you take them out. Hide this box away to keep it safe and Vernon will never find it.”

At last, tears began to stream down Petunia’s face as well. “Lily, you’re not dead. You won’t die,” her voice cracked.

“But what if I do?” Lily insisted pleadingly. “Severus always told me to be prepared if he never came back. He had set up everything so I would be well if he died, but I was foolish enough not to take his warning to heart. And now he’s dead,” her voice hitched in her throat. “I…I don’t want my baby to be as unprepared as I was. I had told Severus I would be ready…I wasn’t…”

“Oh Lily,” once again, Petunia put her arms around her sister and rocked her gently. “I’ll tell Harry. When he’s old enough. I’ll tell him everything!”

Hugging her sister back as best as she could without jarring her child, Lily wept softly. “Thank you, Petunia. Thank you so much!”

They stayed that way for a few eternal moments before Dudley began to cry, demanding his mother’s attention once again. Picking up her heavy little boy, Petunia watched with worried, sad eyes as her little sister stood up to leave. She really did look dreadful.

“You’re not going, are you?” Mrs. Dursley asked, concern leaking from her voice.

Smiling watery, Lily nodded. “I need to get back home before James does. I couldn’t leave with him still home.”

Ushering her red-headed sister to the door, Petunia stopped the witch before kissing her on the forehead. “Take care of yourself Lily. Promise?”

A weak smile came through as Lily shifted Harry in her arms. “Always,” she nodded before squeezing her sisters hand.

Petunia watched as her sister was enveloped by the fog, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. “Promise?” she whispered again before turning around and closing the door behind her.

Harry Potter walked up the stairs after hearing several noises that he could have sworn came from his bedroom. Hopefully Hedwig wasn’t being a pest. That was all he needed, for his owl to start making a commotion just because she could not fly downstairs. She should be glad! At least she was out of her cage!

Opening the door to his room, Harry was startled to see Professor Snape leaning against the wall, his hand resting on his studnet's owl while the Snowy looked content. Not quite able to believe the scene before him, the young wizard looked out the door towards his aunt’s room, but she had not come back out yet. But when he turned back around, he jumped when he saw Snape’s obsidian eyes watching him, much like a carnivorous animal. Harry felt particularly weak and vulnerable under such a powerful gaze.

Rubbing the back of his neck unconsciously, the Gryffindor took a step forward. “Um,” always a lovely way to start off, “how are you feeling, sir?” he asked awkwardly.

How do I feel? Severus scowled. Like shit, you little shit! Oh how he pined to say something of the sort to the worthless little brat before him, but the professor wisely kept his mouth shut. “Where are my robes?” he asked instead. After three years of teaching the thickheaded boy, Severus had learned the hard way that the best way to get through the child’s dense mind was to be blunt.

“Uh, robes, sir?” Harry frowned.

How could Lily have produced such an imbecile child? “Yes, Potter,” he spat the name like a curse. “Robes. You know, the things you dress in when you attend Hogwarts?”

Blushing angrily, the young wizard mumbled something under his breath while finding his shoes interesting. “I know what they are…sir.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Snape snapped, working his frustration out on the boy. “If you don’t want people to speak to you like this, then grow a brain for Merlin’s sake!”

Ah, Harry thought. So that’s why I hated him so much. Funny that he had actually started to forget. “You know, instead of insulting me, you could thank me for taking you in and saving your life,” he bit out, trying his hardest to be civil. After all, Snape would remember everything that was said once school came around agian. The man was wonderful at holding grudges. 

“I could,” the man drawled. “But then again, I think you owed me after all the times I chased your scrawny arse everywhere at school, trying to keep you safe.”

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming. How could this man be so infuriating? It was not surprising that the man didn’t have friends! Who could stand to put up with this kind of treatment all the time? Mother Teresa could not have even handled this! It was hopelessly impossible!

“Your robes,” the boy tried to keep his voice calm, “are down stairs, I think. Aunt Petunia put them away. I’m not exactly sure where they're at.”

Glowering fiercely, Snape stood up, inch by inch, and unknowingly, looked far more intimidating to his student as he was forced to watch the man rise. Now standing, Harry was surprised to see the man before him. Although he would have never called the Potions Master fat by any means, Harry now saw just how thin the wizard was.

Where Harry had always thought that the man had more rounded shoulders, he now saw that Snape had rather broad shoulders for his body type, that were squared powerful. The man that they had always thought sickly, actually was toned and more muscular than his students would have cared to believe. For some reason Snape’s body reminded Harry of a professional swimmer’s, with his skinny frame, and lean muscles. Now wonder the Potions Master had the stamina he had; Snape was fit!

“Show me,” came Snape’s command, and the young wizard found himself jumping to comply. Damn, he hated it when he could not even stand up to the greasy git’s bossing around. Why was the Head of Slytherin so frightening?

It was only after walking from his room and at the top of the stairs that Harry really remember that his professor was injured. Now that they had stopped by the stairs, the boy looked back to see the Potions Master leaning against the wall, his chest heaving. Maybe he should have just gone to get it if the man was this tired already? He did look tired, but determined. “Do you need to take my arm, sir?” he was not even sure what compelled him to ask.

Looking up, Snape’s face shown with disgust. “I don’t need your help,” he growled and promptly took hold of the railing. He quickly spun his head around though, making Harry stop. “Let me go a couple steps ahead,” he ordered angrily. “I don’t want you stepping on my heals,” he added quickly after.

Cocking his head to the side in confusion, Harry nodded. “Sure,” he shrugged. What had that been about?

But as promised, he let the professor get several steps ahead before following slowly down. Maybe Snape thought that Harry would go too fast and accidentally trip him? But why would the man believe that? Especially after the young wizard had offered to help him down? There was just no telling with Snape.

Once down the stairs, Snape leaned against the post and took several deep breaths. Again, unbiddingly, Harry felt a pang of pity for his professor. Although it was hard to admit it, especially of Snape, the young Gryffindor did admire that kind of determination. He knew what it was like to not want to look weak in front of everyone watching. Perhaps Snape was just as horrified with the thought of being helped as Harry was on occasion? Possibly.

“Come in the kitchen, and I’ll get you something to drink,” Harry offered.

Remarkably, the professor only nodded and followed. Where was his snark now? Probably all his energy went into his legs so he would not fall over. Harry understood that too.

Going slowly to accommodate the injured man, Harry opened the door to the kitchen for the wizard and then pulled out a chair for him to sit in. Snape glared at all of the younger wizard’s actions, but said nothing. Still too tired I guess, Harry shrugged it off. He was sure the man would have plenty of insults for him later when he was feeling better.

Quickly getting a glass of water, the boy set it before his teacher before looking for the missing robes. As expected, Petunia hid them under the stairs with all of Harry’s belongings. Grabbing the black cloth and several of his own potions, the young wizard went back into the kitchen to find Snape watching him with those unnervingly black eyes. Why did the man always have to do that?

Instantly snatching up the robes once offered, Severus dug into his pocket until he found his beloved wand. He felt the familiar spark of magic it released when he grabbed it. Now soothed over that panic, Severus looked over at the vials the boy was setting before him. “What kind of potions are these?” he asked candidly.

“Professor Dumbledore gave them to me,” Harry said defensively. “They're labeled.”

Idiot boy thought that Severus was insulting him. What a stupid boy! Sending a nasty scowl over to Potter the Stunningly Imbecilic, the Potions Master looked each vial over before deciding which ones to take and which ones would be of absolute no use. So this is where all my potions went that you wanted, eh Albus?

Once finished taking shot after shot of potions, Severus took a long gulp of water to wash it down. Even after all these years, after taking more potions in his young life than even Dumbledore, the Potions Master still found the taste terrible. But none of his private thoughts showed on his face. To the outside world, Severus was indifferent, and cold. He preferred it that way.

It was when he was taking out his wand that Severus noticed a dark spot on Potter’s face. Frowning, he cocked his head to the side to try and get a better look. “Come here,” he ordered sternly.

Amazingly, Potter complied without a single grumble of complaint. Reaching out his long arm, Severus caught the boy’s face in his hand. The boy tried to fight him off, but the professor held on and turned the child’s head to find a dark, nasty bruise forming on his cheek. The indents of a fist could be seen.

Shocked, Severus allowed the boy to pull away from his grasp. “What did you do to your face?” he asked angrily. But he was not angry with Potter, but rather that someone would hit the child.

Familiar green eyes went wide in panic before they calmed slightly. “You know,” he shrugged. “I hit my face this morning on the desk rolling over to get out of bed.”

Instantly alert, Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t lie to me, boy,” his voice dropped into a menacing softness. “Who hit you?” But before Potter could protest, Severus cut him off again. “Don’t try to fool me, I know what I’m looking at! Who hit you?”

Emerald green eyes filled with shame, telling the professor almost all he needed to know. Someone close to the boy had done this. At that moment, Petunia walked in and froze upon seeing her nephew looking down at the tile floor silently, while the looming black presence of Severus sat in a chair.

“S-Severus!” Petunia blanched once more. “How-how are you feeling?”

The man looked older than Petunia remembered, but then it had been fourteen years. His hair was still the same length, his skin still the same pale, but with more of the slightest hint of green. When she looked into his eyes is when she stopped. Although they had always been dark, the eyes staring at her now looked dead, utterly lifeless. There was no spark, no glint in them; just a dark void of nothingness.

“Petunia,” his low voice boomed in the Muggle’s ear. The voice was so cold.

Scuttling into the kitchen with her nephew, Petunia took the wizard’s empty water glass and began to refill it. Tears formed in her eyes; angry, bitter tears. She could not help that her hands started shaking again.

Walking over to the table, she set down the glass. When Severus looked at her, just the barest hint of dislike on his severe features was enough to set her over the edge. Without warning, she drew back her hand and slapped the wizard across the face; hard.

Harry watching with wide eyes horror as his aunt struck Snape across the face. The boy felt ill as he expected to see his aunt murdered before his eyes. It was one thing dreaming about hitting the Potions Master across the face, but it was something else entirely actually doing it. What had gotten into her today? Did she want to die?

Severus was just as surprised as Harry with his old playmate’s behavior. Turning his head back slowly, his temper at its peak, he stood up, looming over Petunia. “What the hell was that?” he hissed, grabbing her shoulders.

“That’s for Lily, you bastard!” she screeched. “How could you not tell her you were alive?”

His heart in agony, Severus pushed the woman away from him roughly, not even wanting to touch her. “Why the hell do you care?” he spat. “You didn’t even like her.”

Balling her hands up into fists, Petunia’s face perfectly matched her husbands usual purple when he was angry. “I loved my sister!” she declared. “Which is more than I can say about you!”

“Enough!” Snape thundered, all of the windows and light bulbs shattering with his uncontrolled rage. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner!” his voice dropped into a frightening whisper. Every child at Hogwarts could have told you that a bellowing Snape was better than a whispering one. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing!”

Although it was clear that she was terrified, Petunia somehow managed to stand her ground. Lifting her chin in defiance, she did her best to glare at the wizard before her. “She loved you, you sick bastard! Why didn’t you tell her you weren’t dead?”

“Loved me!” Snape laughed mirthlessly. Harry backed away carefully. He had never seen his professor so angry in all of his years at Hogwarts. Not even when Sirius had gotten away before the end of term. “Oh yes, I could tell how much she loved me! That’s why she married Potter, right? Because she loved me so much?”

At this, Petunia looked just about as angry as Snape did. “Well she wouldn’t have married him had you told her you were alive!”

“Enough of this!” the wizard boomed again. “I’m not getting into this with you,” he growl condescendingly. “Besides,” he could not let the argument go, “If she loved me so much, why didn’t she speak to me before she got herself engaged to Potter? Why didn’t she contact me before she married that lousy piece of shit!”

“Hey!” Harry felt compelled to stick up for his father, but could not get another word in as the adults were not finished.

“What the hell are you talking about?” his aunt asked, very un-lady like, her icy eyes clouding with confusion. “You two talked before her marriage.”

“Hardly,” Severus snapped bitterly. “Perhaps two words were exchanged, but that was the extent of it.” He sank back into his chair, tired from his burst of magic. “Why are you even getting into this,” he glanced up suspiciously, having forgotten that Harry was in the room. “Trying to rub salt in the wounds?” he accused. “You know as well as I do and everyone else that she loved James.”

Standing tiredly next to the table, Petunia leaned against it for support, having tired herself out as well. “I don’t know why you don’t remember,” she stared down into the livid face of Severus. “But would it surprise you to learn that Lily never loved James?”

At both Severus’s and Harry's shocked faces, she went on. “I see,” she said quietly. “Would it surprise you further to learn that Harry is not really James’s son, but yours?”