"My compliments to the chef," Severus said, tilting his head and raising his glass of wine to suit actions to words. 

Lily smiled and blushed, lowered her gaze to her plate in a manner that Severus found particularly fetching. "Thank you, Severus. I don't often get the opportunity to cook. Petunia's always pushing me out of the kitchen." 

Severus resisted the urge that he had to hiss at the mention of Lily's sister. Petunia was nothing like Lily. Where Lily was kindhearted and courageous, Petunia was petty and cowardly, often bringing the worst out in others where Lily brought out the best. Severus often wondered how two vastly different people could actually be related by blood. It was mind-boggling. 

"It is obvious that you need no practice in the culinary arts," Severus said, hoping to draw Lily's eyes up to meet his own. 

He was rewarded with a shy, almost coy look, when Lily finally raised her eyes. There was a smile playing about her lips, her cheeks still bore a light dusting of pink. He raised a forkful of chicken, baked to perfection, in a toast and closed his eyes to savor the taste. It truly was perfection, not at all unlike Lily. 

~HP~

  The crash back to the present was every bit as jarring as it always was and Severus did nothing to disguise his anger from the child who was responsible for bringing him back from his visit to the past. He advanced on the boy, wand out, lips pressed in a tight line, robes billowing behind him. 

"Mr. Longbottom," Severus kept his voice low, knowing that it was far more intimidating when he didn't shout. 

His own father had been the same. Instilling terror in him with, while not dulcet, at least quiet, silky tones. Severus had measured the likelihood of a physical punishment, as well as its severity, against the tone of voice his father had used with him, knowing that, when his father was quiet, almost thoughtful sounding, that he was in a great deal of trouble. 

"Ppp...ppprrroff..." the boy gulped, shrinking back as Severus towered over him, "Profess...uh...sor, I...I...s...sorry. I...I..." 

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for inattention," Severus snarled at the stuttering boy, and held his tongue from uttering the words, and blatant stupidity. 

With an angry flick of his wand, he vanished the boy's failing potion before it could truly get out of hand. He scanned the tables around Longbottom's working space to make sure that the small explosion which had shaken him from his memory of the one intimate night that he'd spent with Lily hadn't caused any student harm. He clamped his mouth shut, and pinched the bridge of his nose when he spied Potter; pale, clutching at what appeared to be the beginnings of an angry, red welt, on his cheek.   

Granger and Weasley were gathered around their friend, making him look even smaller than he was; which was saying something. Severus had been surprised, what with how much time Petunia had presumably spent in the kitchen during her teenage years that Potter had come to school appearing practically emaciated. 

He took a deep, fortifying breath, swallowing down the bitterness over what had happened between him and Lily so that he could tend to her son. Potter was quiet. Granger appeared to be whispering something into his ear, and Weasley had an arm wrapped around Potter's shoulders. The redhead was glaring at anyone who dared to look in Potter's direction. 

Severus shook his head to clear it and dispel the sudden image which threatened to drown him - Lily's eyes, green pools filled with compassion and love, pleading silently with him. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, that the other students had stopped working on their own potions and had turned around to watch, save for Malfoy and his cronies. No doubt they had something to do with the explosion, but, Severus had a reputation to maintain. 

"Stop gawking and get back to work," he snapped. 

The students hurriedly got back to work and he returned his attention to Potter who raised pain-filled green eyes to meet his. 

The boy's breath hitched, and he bit his lip. It was clear to Severus that he was in pain, yet the tears that had pooled in his eyes did not fall. 

"Sir," Granger broke in, rousing him from his contemplation of the boy who had Lily's eyes, though they were masked by glasses, almost magnified by them. 

"What is it, Granger?" Severus bit out. 

The girl, to her credit, did not flinch. She met his scowl with a stubborn set to her jaw. 

"Should Ron and I take Harry to the hospital wing?" It was less of a question than it was a reminder that Potter was injured and Severus had a class to run, as well as a duty to make sure that Potter was taken care of. 

He ground his teeth and took a deep breath, and tamped down on his anger at Granger's bold assertion. She was, much of the time, an insufferable know-it-all, and it was not a trait that was particularly endearing. She had; however, made a good point. Potter, though he made not a sound, was clearly in pain and in need of medical attention. 

"Professor," Weasley's voice held none of the polite deference that Granger's had, and Severus narrowed his eyes at the boy, making him swallow in nervousness. Even so, Weasley didn't back down. His blue eyes sparked with determination. 

"We need to take Harry to the hospital wing." It wasn't phrased as a question and the youngest Weasley boy's chin was jutted out in challenge, though Severus detected a small amount of fear in the way that his hand shook, just a little, where he'd placed it on Harry's shoulder. 

Severus gave Potter an assessing look, and was mildly surprised to see that the spot he'd been covering with his hand had grown considerably, and was now spreading across his face, and down his neck. It was a blistering red, and Severus' breath caught in his throat, and his heart skipped a beat. The boy had to be in immense pain, and yet he stood there, swaying on his feet not making a sound, not letting loose the tears that were threatening to fall. 

"Granger, Weasley, contact the headmaster through the floo and tell him there's an emergency. Have him come here," Severus said, never taking his eyes off of Potter, his voice eerily hollow in his own ears. 

He didn't hear the Gryffindors' responses. Thought fled him as he scooped Potter up in his arms, and, without a backward glance strode through the classroom and out the door. He practically flew through the hall, heart beating a staccato rhythm that outpaced his hurried steps. 

"Potter, you'll be okay," he said, not daring to look at the boy who was now gurgling as he struggled to breathe through lips that were tinted blue. Something that Severus, in his initial scan of the boy, had failed to notice, but should have. The potion they'd been working on should not have had such disastrous results, nor caused such a lethal reaction in Potter, unless he was allergic to one of the ingredients. 

It was a terrifying sound, Potter's labored attempt at breathing, and Severus ran in earnest. He had very little time, and the thought of it scared him more than the thought of losing Lily had when he'd come to learn of the Dark Lord's plans fourteen years ago. It was a dizzying thought and not something that Severus had much time to mull over. 

Potter had been a constant thorn in his side. The boy had zero sense of self-preservation and Severus had found himself in many precarious situations over the years, trying to keep Potter safe and alive so that he could meet his fate. It was exhausting, and here he was at it again, though this time it was through no fault of Potter's. Though, to hear Dumbledore and many of the other professors talk, much of what befell Potter wasn't the Golden Boy's fault. 

Severus shoved through the double-doors of the hospital wing, heart racing. "Madame Pomfrey! Poppy!" 

The medi-witch bustled out of her office, shoving pieces of loose hair into the bun at the nape of her neck. "What on earth?" 

Severus wasted no time in placing Potter on the nearest bed, beckoning the medi-witch to hurry. There was no time to waste. The red blistering welt had spread all along Potter's right side and breath was wheezing past slightly parted lips. The boy's eyes were mere slits of shimmering green. 

"What happened, Severus?" Pomfrey wasted no time in casting a diagnostic spell and running her wand over Potter's prone form. Her eyes were riveted to the boy whose lips were now a deathly shade of blue. 

"Potions accident," Severus breathed out, and he made to move away to let Pomfrey work, but something stopped him. At first he was confused, and he attempted to step back, only to find that he couldn't. 

"Severus," Poppy's voice was soft, yet commanding. "Stay put, for now." 

Severus looked down and frowned. Potter's hand was clutching his robes in a death-grip. For a dizzying moment he felt trapped and wanted nothing more than to pry Harry's fingers off of him. Pomfrey placed a hand on his chest and he looked down at her. She pursed her lips and shook her head. 

Severus took a deep breath and nodded. He didn't like it, but, for the moment, he was stuck with Potter. The boy's grip making it impossible for him to be anywhere else while Pomfrey worked on him. 

Severus answered Pomfrey's questions as best he could. There was little he knew about what had really happened. Though he suspected that Malfoy had a hand in what had happened, he had no solid proof. His mind had, temporarily, been elsewhere. It was his inattention, not Longbottom's, which could cost Potter his life. It was a stark realization that nearly caused Severus' knees to buckle, but he kept standing, even placed a hand on top of Potter's and was rewarded with a small, tremulous smile. 

After what felt like hours of the medi-witch scurrying around Potter, conducting various tests and applying a variety of healing charms, it seemed as though Potter could finally breathe. His grip on Severus' robe loosened, but just a fraction, though Severus wouldn't have moved, even if Potter had let go of him completely. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and closed his eyes against the fortifying strength that Dumbledore offered him. "How's Harry doing?" 

Severus opened his mouth to speak, but his mouth was too dry. He didn't question the glass of water that was pressed into the hand that was not currently on top of Potter's. He drank and relished the coolness of the liquid. 

"Pomfrey thinks he'll be fine, once the poison's run its course and he's rested" Severus said. His voice was even, though he felt shaky. 

The combination of two ingredients that should never have been combined had nearly killed the boy who was still clinging to him, though his lips were once more a healthy pink in color. His cheeks were gaining color as well.

  Severus was surprised by how relieved he felt. He hadn't exactly hated Potter, not really, but there had been no love lost between them. After what James Potter had done to him, stealing Lily's heart, it was hard for Severus to see the near spitting image of the man in Harry Potter on a near daily basis during the school months. 

Seeing Lily's eyes in Potter's face wasn't easy either, but when he chanced a look at Potter now, he saw that the boy's eyes were free of the earlier pain. It was clear to Severus that Potter was staring at him with something that Severus was finding very hard to read reflected in his eyes. 

It was unnerving, and Severus almost fought to free his robes of Potter's grip, but there was still a slight tremble in the boy's limbs and Dumbledore was watching the both of them. Pomfrey ran yet another diagnostic, a small, satisfied smile on her face when it indicated that the boy was completely out of danger. 

"Well, I'll just leave you to it," Dumbledore said, voice soft and indulgent. 

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes and growl at the wizard. Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder. "I'll take care of the rest of your classes today and tomorrow." 

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but when he caught Dumbledore's eyes and his raised eyebrow, the slight tilt of his head in Potter's direction, he realized that any argument on his part would be moot. He sighed and nodded, and took the seat beside Potter's bed that Dumbledore conjured for him out of thin air. 

"Thank you, Headmaster," Severus said, ignoring the knowing twinkle in the older wizard's eyes. 

"You're welcome my dear boy," Dumbledore said, and then he turned his attention to Potter and laid a hand on his chest. "Get better." 

Potter nodded and Dumbledore took his leave. Potter was strangely quiet, and Severus felt a little out of sorts, unsure of what to do now that the danger was over. 

"Thank you, professor," Potter said, breaking the silence that had descended between them. His voice was tremulous, and Severus hoped that the boy wouldn't cry. He wouldn't know what to do with tears. He offered Potter a glass of water, helped him drink it, and then sank back down into his chair.

"Your thanks is not necessary, Potter," Severus said, sniffing, looking anywhere except at those big, green eyes. Eyes that held every bit of good that Lily had imparted to him.

  "Oh just take the compliment, Snape," Potter said, and Severus looked at him then, raised an eyebrow and was rewarded with a roll of the eyes and a tentative smile. 

"Professor Snape," Potter emphasized the title, and Severus settled back in his chair, ready to take up an unnecessary vigil by Potter's bedside. 

The boy had not yet relinquished his hold on Severus' robes. That wouldn't happen until the boy fell asleep, though Severus would hardly be aware of it as he lost the battle with sleep as well. As he slept, Severus dreamt. 

He was sitting across from Lily, eating baked chicken from her hand, sipping wine, drinking in the wonder of her beauty, the way that her eyes lit up while they talked, her fingers brushing against his. Her admonishment for him to, "Take care of my boy," was the only thing that wasn't on par with the memory of their night together. 

In the morning, Severus woke with a start, the promise to do just as Lily had asked him falling from his lips. Things would not be perfect, and there would still be much to work out, but he would do better, and Severus' heart would no longer ache every time he saw the echo of Lily, reflected in the eyes of her son.