With Eyes Wide Open

“There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.” – Jawaharlal Nehru


Chapter One
Burning Bridges


“We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.” – Tom Stoppard

November 5, 1981

A hustler’s lustful eyes watched her as she hurried past him. Robe wrapped tightly around herself and her child. Her baby moved against her as if he could sense her fear, his small chubby hand reaching out from under her cloak for a lock of her auburn hair. Fearful emerald eyes, almost glowing with her unshed tears darted toward the man. She watched as he shifted his eyes to her child, then he straightened and turned away.

They were safe for the moment. Yet, a moment was too short.

“Padfoot… Moony… Lucan… where are you?” she murmured, eyes searching frantically, seeking every dark corner, every crevice in which to hide.

So lost was she in her searching that she did not hear the person approach behind her. Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her waist effectively pinning her back against a hard torso. Every nerve went on alert as she struggled against the hold. The man was saying something to her but she couldn’t hear him, every part of her looked for a way to escape, a way to protect her baby.

Then, she heard her name.

“Lily, it’s just me. It’s Sirius.”

Lily suddenly burst into tears as many days worth of frustration and grief spilled out of her. Turning her around, Sirius eased her into a warm embrace, being careful not to harm the baby. She buried her face into the folds of his robes, clutching her son to her with both arms tight around him.

“It’s my fault… it’s all my fault… I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Shh… Lils, it’s not your fault. You’re not to blame for this.” He moved a hand up to cup her head, fisting his fingers loosely in the auburn strands that fell in a mused wave as he pushed back the hood of her cloak. He leaned down his head to rest upon hers, brushing his lips over her hair.

“But I am. I am… Oh, James, I’m sorry…”

Sirius gripped her tighter, clenching his eyes shut allowing two traitorous tears to roll down his face. I have to be here for her. It wasn’t her fault. James knew what could happen. She’s my sister.

I’ve got to change the past. I’ve got to prove I’m not my father.

“Lucan…” Lily whispered, slowly pulling herself away from him. Sirius fought back the pain that struck him as she approached the tall, blond haired man. He wrapped her in a secure hug, folding her within his fur-lined cloak. He rested his chin calmly atop her head – with his frozen, azure eyes watching Sirius unblinking. Sirius crossed his arms and glared darkly back at the other man.

“Monroe,” Sirius spat, slate eyes flashing dangerously.

“Black,” Lucan countered, a smug smirk plastered on his tan face – a smirk that Sirius wished he could knock right off. Sirius growled in irritation as the man’s smirk became a grin.

“Easy, mutt,” Lucan said flippantly, causing Sirius to clench his fists and march toward him.

“Boys, please… Not tonight. Not now.” Lily whispered as she moved toward an old wooden crate and sat down. She tucked Harry deeper inside her robes and began discreetly feeding him. Her eyes darted at the shadows in discomfort, hoping that no one would approach them, fully aware of the breeze hitting her bared skin.

“Yes, please… I have had enough this night,” encroached a weary voice as a slumped man appeared from the shadows. He offered Lily a weary smile in exchange of her concerned face. He found himself a spot leaning against a far wall, body drooping and exhausted.

“What took you so long, Moony?” Sirius asked, pulling off his cloak so that Lily could wrap up Harry once he finished and plopped down beside her.

Remus sighed and closed his eyes and said dismissively, “Fenrir was being particularly difficult to stand tonight.” Grunting, he turned to face them. “He stuck Fang and Petrol outside my house.”

“Difficult, Lupin?” asked Lucan sarcastically with an odd grin on his pale face. “Fang and Petrol are feral monsters with more snout than decency. Not to mention, they would rather rip out your throat than to follow the orders of anyone.”

“Better them than Greyback,” Lily said with a shudder, pulling the cloak over her chest to cover what little she was exposing and to keep her son warm as he fed. With a sigh, she leaned against Sirius’s arm.

“It was in the Prophet today,” Lupin started, fiddling tiredly with a hole in the sleeve of his robes. “The article claims that Aurors found the bodies of Lily and Harry Potter below an overpass in western London crushed from impact. She jumped, holding the baby. Apparent suicide.”

“And they might have,” whispered Lily, shifting her bundled baby as he became too heavy for one arm, lifting him to her shoulder to burp him. “It depends on just what Dumbledore acquired to throw Fudge off of our trail.”

“Bit extreme, don’t you think?” Lucan stated, peering at Lily from beneath his blond fringe. “…For the world to believe you dead?”

Lily was silent for a long time as she handed her son to Sirius who wrapped Harry within his cloak. She buttoned the few loose ones on her robes before she took Harry back from Sirius. She kissed him on the forehead and he grabbed her hair again, giggling as he pulled on it.

With tears in her tired eyes, she replied with barely a whisper, “If it keeps my baby from the hands of Fudge and Umbridge, I will do anything.”

“But what now?” Lucan’s frozen eyes peered around at the Sirius and Remus before resting upon Lily, his dear baby sister’s face. “We have a woman and child whom the world believes to be dead. Black is a convenient scapegoat on the run from the authorities and Lupin is on house arrest by a maniac werewolf. And me, well, I am just the semi-innocent bystander.”

“What about Severus?” Remus asked, as he shifted uneasily against the wall, amber eyes suspiciously watching a young muggle boy in a leather duster walk past them. “Dumbledore won’t have told him, will he?”

“He says it’s too dangerous,” Lily whispered, blinking back the tears that stung her eyes.

Lucan’s eyes, which almost glowed in the dark, alighted with an inner fire. “You are not saying that he is keeping the man from his son?” The other three sat still and tears finally spilled over unto his baby sister’s cheeks, despite all her efforts against them. Disgust flittered over the planes of his bronze face. “Does the old codger have no heart?”

“He’s been good to us, Lucan,” Lily whispered, pain lacing with her words. Lucan was unsure if she was trying to reassure him or herself. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

“He’s Dumbledore, Luc,” Remus added, lycanthropic golden eyes peering out at the other man. “Usually, he knows more than we do. We just got to trust him.”

Lucan snorted derisively but didn’t say anything further. It was no secret to the other three that Lucan Monroe despised Albus Dumbledore.

“Now, what do we do?” Lily whispered, shaking and afraid of the answers to the questions she had to ask. “Padfoot can’t go home, not unless he wants to be arrested. I don’t want Moony to go back to those monsters. But more selfishly, I don’t want to be without you two or Lucan… Maybe I should go to Prince Manor. Eileen might help me.”

“There is no way that she would help us and stay silent at the same time.”

“I still don’t understand why anyone has to be silent,” Lucan growled.

“Brother, please,” Lily begged, emerald eyes shining sadly in the glow from a single streetlamp.

Frustration brewed behind Lucan’s grey eyes as he hesitated before saying his offer slowly as if unsure he was actually saying it, “You could stay at the Estate.”

Remus looked up at the man incredulous that he had even offered but the wheels began to turn in his head. “It’s the safest option we’ve got. It might be the only option we’ve got. It wouldn’t be complete insanity to pass Lily off as a Monroe.”

Sirius scowled at the suggestion and crossed his arms over his chest like a stubborn toddler.

Lily, however, spoke up softly. “How would we go about making it legit? It would seem strange for a pureblood family to suddenly have a daughter whose existence was never confirmed. It wouldn’t be advantageous to mention the–” Lily blushed “–promiscuity.”

Lucan answered, with a slight mocking lilt, “Well, I’m sure with Dumbledore’s ingenuity–” His lip curled disgusted “–he could find a creditable cover-up.”

“Technically, Lily is a Black,” Sirius grumbled.

“But that doesn’t exactly help her case, does it, Mutt?”

Fire flashed in Lily’s eyes as she turned her countenance on her two half-brothers. “If you two don’t stop your bickering, I’ll make myself a Lupin!”

She wasn’t prepared to see the devious smile cross Lucan’s face. “That wouldn’t be such a bad idea, Princess.”

All three of his companions stared incredulously at him and deigned themselves to answer in unison, “What?!”

“Maybe not a Lupin, per se but perhaps...” They all waited with baited breath but Lucan merely nodded to something in his head and kept silent.

Sirius, predictably, was the one to break the quiet. “Monroe, spit it out before I knock your face in!”

“Easy, Black, or I might make Lupin take a snip at you.”

Lily rolled her eyes and walked away, trying to console her baby as he was reacting badly to his uncle Padfoot’s raised voice. Remus, however, was once again the voice of – trying but often not succeeding – reason.

“Lucan, we are all intrigued by your proposal and would likely be even more so if you would share it with us.”

Lucan’s blue eyes widened in mock wonder and he turned to look at Sirius with his expression. “Look at that, Black. What manners Remus has. You should take some lessons. Conjure some parchment. You’ll need to take notes as not to forget.”

“Lucan, please!” Lily’s voice was slightly hysterical and Harry’s whimpers even more so.

This time it was Lucan’s turn to roll his eyes. “Alright, you, Lily, will not be a Monroe. You don’t have the features. But Lupin, on the other hand…”

Sirius’ face bordered on confusion and anger and Lily stared incredulously at her brother. Remus’ brows nearly touched each other in contemplation as he asked, “How would passing me off as a Monroe help Lily’s case, Lucan?”

Lucan, for his case, was rather unperturbed and answered the question as if he had been asked whether or not the sky was blue. “Simple. You’ll be married.”

“She’s already married,” Sirius deadpanned.

Lucan rolled his eyes, sneering. “Not real marriage, you fool. Fake, of course. Cast a few simple glamour charms and they will be husband and wife, from my father’s side once removed.”

“And Harry?” Lily asked, bouncing her child up and down as he began to fuss, “I don’t feel comfortable casting charms on my child.”

“Lily, you really have no choice of the matter, especially with that horrid curse scar he’s got.”

Lily sighed, looking down at her son. She kissed his forehead gently and nuzzled him. “Alright,” she whispered.

“And what about me?” Sirius asked.

“Why it’s obvious, Black! You will be the ugly half-witted family pet.”

Lily let a smile cross her face as Sirius scowled at Lucan while Remus snorted and shook his head fondly.

With Eyes Wide Open

“There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.” – Jawaharlal Nehru

Chapter Two
Breaking Ground


June 14, 1991

The room was dark as the single candle flickered by a window. The gossamer curtains were pulled back and the window cracked to tempt the summer breeze into the room. The sheets on the four-poster were crumpled and empty. Books sat on every surface of the room, along the walls in shelves, on the nightstand, the desk, and the floor in stately piles. Piles of parchment and quills littered all other available surface. The room was silent and still, except for the lone figure in the corner seated at the desk, head in her hands.

Beautiful crimson hair flowed over her shoulders and pooled on the surface of the table. Tears raced from emerald eyes, chasing each other and sparkling in rivers upon her cheeks. She nibbled her bottom lip in agitation and looked up into a partly charred picture sitting in an elegant frame on her desktop.

It was the largest picture and was surrounded by many smaller pictures, all of the same child at different points in his life. But this picture that so captured her attention was the only picture she was allowed to have of the man who had stolen her heart. Some women would have rather had pictures of their wedding to remind them of the glory still in their lives. Most women would enjoy being in the picture with the love of their lives in order to prove to the world that they did love that man.

However, this picture was different for the woman was not in the picture and needless to say, was not a photo of their wedding.

It pictured a man, and not a man that most women would want to have a picture of. He was not handsome by any means nor did he seem happy. In fact, this severe man came across stoic and perhaps irritated. He sat on a sofa and seemed to almost be swallowed in his voluptuous black robes. His black, greasy, stringy hair fell in his face as he looked down at the child in his arms. Black fuzz was barely visible on the infant’s head and a large toothless grin spread across his chubby face. One hand waved at nothing and the other gripped the hair of the severe man. At first glance, it appeared to be a picture of a man who had been forced into holding a bubbly baby but if one looked close enough they could see the small smile on the man’s face.

And the woman who loved this man could not stop her tears at seeing the past she missed so much.

With a trembling resolve the woman pulled a piece of parchment to her and unscrewed the lid off her ink. Her hand shook as she held her freshly dipped quill over the paper. Then she began to write, her hand slowly becoming steady. Unbidden tears fell onto her parchment but she made no move to stop them, useless as it was.


My dark knight,

If you knew how many times I write to you, how many letters I have hidden away in our wedding chest… You would think I’m a sentimental fool. I suppose I am. Being dead isn’t easy, love.

Harry is growing up so much. He looks remarkably like you once we can take down the glamour charms. He has your dry sense of humor as well as your brilliant mind. Except, other times it’s sad that I have to constantly remind myself that he is your son, not Remus’. The charms that keep us in hiding have caused me to begin finding the truth to be unbearably difficult.

I miss you, Severus. I miss you with every fiber of my being. Most nights I cannot sleep because I do not have your arms to hold me. Some nights my mind is too full of memories that rest will never come. The other nights I am watching over our son as he struggles with the curse that the Dark Lord gave him.

Albus told me that he’s dying. I didn’t tell Harry. No doubt, our boy already knows. I cannot help but be angry in all this, even though my heart is breaking. Albus seems more worried about this abominable war than with Harry’s happiness and health. I want you here. We need you here, but Albus is too happy with the opportunity to run all our lives.

I suppose I shouldn’t speak ill of the man. He is the reason why you are alive. He’s the reason why our son walks this world today. But I have the feeling that Albus knew all along that our world would become this crumbling foundation. I cannot help but be bitter that our son is sick and that my husband is estranged from us… for the good of the Wizarding world.

I hate it. I can’t stop hating it. My tears won’t stop. My pain won’t end. My fear won’t go away.

I love you, Severus. I miss you. I need you. I want you. Please trust that we are alive. Do not believe the powers that be. Do not believe the falsities. Believe that we will meet again.

Your princess of golden cities,
Lily

She placed her pen down slowly and carefully folded the letter. She took an envelope addressed it and gently placed her paper with in. With a kiss to the name on the envelope and with a heartbroken sigh, Lily crossed the room and placed the letter in the chest at the end of her bed.

One last tear rolled down her cheek as she crawled back into bed, knowing that sleep would be impossible.

~*~

The first time Harry dropped his stirring rod he just picked it up and went on with mixing his potion. The second time was much like the first. By the third he was irritated. When the fourth came, he lowered the heat on his cauldron and just stepped back, staring at the offensive piece of wood on the tiled floor. His eyes narrowed and the tool began to rattle, jumping as if in an earthquake. Then suddenly it exploded, splinters shooting outward and bouncing harmlessly off his shins.

He smirked, and shook his long dark hair from his glimmering emerald eyes.

“Was that supposed to make you feel better, Cub?”

Harold Snape rolled his eyes at his godfather and waved his hand at the pieces, turning away as they put themselves together as if a puzzle. “Yes, releases frustration.” He said and turned to watch the werewolf’s struggling gait. “Supposedly, exerting my magic is good for me. That book that Mum is reading says so.”

“Yes, but I do not believe your mother would condone you exploding random objects.” Remus answered, hobbling forward, cane in hand. His normally pale face seemed almost translucent, forehead shining with perspiration. It took him almost forever to reach Harry’s side and collapse in a chair nearby his workstation.

The boy’s brows came together in concern. “Are you alright, Moony?”

“I’m fine, Harry.” Remus replied automatically. “Lily said you were having an off-day, today. I thought I would come and keep you company.” Remus Lupin leaned forward and peered searchingly at Harry’s ghostly pallor. His godson gave him a half-hearted glare out of the corner of his eyes. “How are you feeling, Cub?”

Harry slowly stirred his caldron, green eyes peering in and measuring something that Remus would never be able to tell. A small scowl, reminiscent of his father’s, Remus thought, crossed his face. “I took two doses of my medication. I should be fine. Mum needs not to worry.”

Remus sighed. “Your mother is not the only one that worries for your health, Harry.”

“I know,” Harry whispered. “I know you all love me but if I die, I do and none of us can change anything about it. I’d rather not spend my whole life fearing my death.”

“Wise words for someone so young,” Remus muttered. He was silent for a moment and just stared at his surrogate son, watching the emotions swirl behind the boy’s eyes. He sniffed and something metallic reached him. He sighed once more and gently tugged Harry over to face him.

“You’re not afraid, Cub, but that doesn’t stop you from being bitter about it.”

Harry stared at his now forgotten caldron. Tears prickled his eyes but he fought them down. Crying would not solve anything. It never did in the past.

“Moony, if I die, I don’t want Mum to be alone.”

“She won’t be, Harry. She has me as well as your uncles.”

“No, not like that, Remus. I know that you all will never leave her. I just don’t want her to be without Dad. She deserves to be together with him. Mum is so lonely. I don’t like seeing her that way.”

Remus sighed, “None of us do.”

Harry turned around and peered up at the werewolf, standing with such resolve as a man thrice his age. “Moony, will you make me a promise?”

Remus brow furrowed as he stared down into the boy’s determined eyes. “I’ll try, Harry.”

“If something happens to me, something bad, will you tell Dad about us, despite Dumbledore or anything else?”

“Yes, Cub, I promise.” As Remus spoke, he couldn’t help but feel bitter himself even as the boy’s stick-thin arms wrapped around his neck.

“Thanks, Moony.”

“You’re welcome, Cub.” Remus hoisted himself up and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “Do you feel up to going to Diagon Alley?”

“Yea, as long as Sissy can come too.”

Upon hearing her name, a small black snake stuck her head out from underneath the boy’s sleeve. Harry smiled at his pet and murmured to her, patting her head with a fingertip.

“Of course,” Remus responded with a fond and slightly uneasy smile, “but keep her hidden. No talking. We are establishing ourselves today.”

Harry smiled at Remus’ retreating back and turned to his simmering potion. “Finally.”

***

“Do you only come here to eat my food and give my son illegal reading material?” Lily asked, lightly flipping through the book that Lucan had just placed in her hands.

Lucan sat on the arm of her sofa, three biscuits in one hand and munching on a forth. He peered up at her with cool blue eyes. Crumbs fell to the floor and disappeared. Mimzy – their house-elf – peered around the sofa with irritated eyes, watching Lucan stonily. Lily looked down at the small green creature whose large ears twitched much like a cat’s tail would when watching its prey. Lily bit back a smile and returned to the book, scowling at a particular nasty potion it described.

“I do come to dote upon my sister when the need strikes me,” Lucan said, finishing his last biscuit and brushing off the crumbles. Mimzy’s fingers twitched and the floor was clean again. The little elf’s lips were pursed so tightly that Lily feared that the creature’s magic would seal her mouth up.

“Mimzy, can you go check on Harry for me – quietly?”

Mimzy’s large violet eyes turned sad at the thought of her ailing little master. She nodded, and with a small pop, she disappeared.

With a sigh, Lily shut the book, shaking her head. “Lucan, you can’t really mean to give this to Harry?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Don’t you think the subject matter is… unsuitable?”

“Harry’s smart enough to know what to experiment with and what not to. You taught him well, Princess.”

“Not nearly as well as Severus could have, I’m sure,” she whispered.

Lucan scowled but wrapped his sister up in a hug from behind. She leaned back into him, fighting tears in her eyes.

He dropped his chin atop her head and whispered, “You’re dreams will come true, Princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

Lily pulled away from him and turned to stare him in the eyes. He merely smirked and looked away.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite nephew!”

“I’m your only nephew,” Harry said walking up to his mother and uncle and then clamoring up onto the bar stool. He gave the book a suspicious glance before looking back at Lucan.

“That may be,” Lucan grinned, and ruffled Harry’s shaggy black hair. “But only favorite nephews get presents!” He looked at the book. “And do my eyes deceive me?” He picked up the book. “Who else would a book such as this belong too?” He placed it in Harry’s hands and sat once more on the arm of the sofa, specifically ignoring Mimzy’s glare as she popped back into the room.

Harry gave the book a long look-over before looking up at his mother. Reluctantly, she nodded her head and he pounced on the book with vigor, flipping through it quickly once then doing it again more slowly. Lily couldn’t help but smile at how her baby’s sad eyes lit up in joy.

Suddenly, Harry grew still. “Dad’s potion is in here!”

Lily grew still as well but Lucan merely shrugged. “Which one, Harry? The man has made many.”

“It says that it can help with the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse, and even lessen the pain if given to the victim before the curse is cast… But he made this during the war.”

“Why would Albus allow him to blow his cover like that?” Remus asked hypothetically hobbling up to them and easing down on the stool beside Harry. “If the Dark Lord ever rose again, the Light would have no spy.”

“Poppycock, Lupin, the Light would have many spies. Severus has served his sentence.” Lucan stood and brushed off his frock coat absently. “In any case, nothing can be done about it.” He looked down at Harry. “Be proud of your father, Harry.”

Harry looked back down at the book, hand caressing the page gently as if someway he could touch his father by a book. “I am.”

***

Not for once in the two years that the Weasley twins were enrolled in Hogwarts had Severus Snape felt the urge to curse them with an inch of their lives. But as he stood in the shambles of his personal belongings, he found that their latest prank teetered on the edge of expulsion.

The Headmaster did not think so, of course. He had sent the brats back to their tower with a sweet and a pat on the head. Severus scowled, the little monsters of Gryffindor could do no wrong in Dumbledore’s eyes.

It had been that way in his youth. Why did he expect change from the old man now?

He walked forward gingerly, broken glass and feathers at his feet. Then something by the cold fireplace caught his eyes. It glinted and moved – a photograph. Slowly he came too it, bending down to pick it up. It was the only picture that remained of his family.

A corner of the photo had been singed by the twins’ fireworks. Lily sat in a chair rocking Harry, her dark red hair falling a bit into her face. Harry was waving his arms and clamping onto his mother’s hair, smiling toothlessly. Severus allowed a small smile to cross his normally stern face. Harry had loved pulling hair and when he had been introduced to Black’s animagus form it was as if Christmas had come early.

That had been the last hour he had ever spent with his son.

Dada! No go! No go!

Severus shut his eyes against the memories. His last memory of his son had been when Harry was pleading for him not to leave. Harry was shaking in his mother’s arms, struggling and reaching out for Severus. The mask in his hand had never seemed as heavy as it seemed then. Tears coursed from Harry’s beautiful eyes, eyes he shared with his mother, that night he shared her tears as well.

Then a week later, the Dark Lord was defeated and Severus’ family dead.

Lily had been cursed by Voldemort. No doubt it was this curse that drove her to such extravagant lengths…

Severus could not help but wish he had died with them.

“My boy, I am sorry for this,” Albus’ voice came from behind him and Severus felt his grip tighten on the photo. He stayed with his back to the man for if he faced him, he knew not what he would do to the Headmaster. An angry, bitter tear dripped onto the parchment and Severus wiped it away gingerly. He straightened and, without looking at Dumbledore, swept off to his personal laboratory.

Albus winced as the sound of breaking glass reached him and a screams of pain and frustration. The old professor sighed and turned to leave, casting a silencing charm over the quarters as he did so.