Harry's entire body was screaming in agony, and he was blinded by pain as his body jerked and twisted on the ground. But as suddenly as the curse had started, it stopped. Harry lay panting on the dirt, his body weak and unwilling to listen to his commands to get him to his feet.

"NOOOO!"

Harry wasn't sure if the voice was inside his own head or if it belonged to an actual person, and it took him a long moment before he realized that someone else had joined the fight. His long black cloak billowed around him as the man charged towards Bellatrix, shooting silent non-verbal hexes and curses from his wand with the speed of a gun.

It was Snape... Snape was here!

Reaching the crazed woman, he grabbed both of her wrists and forced them upwards, just in time to avoid a killing curse aimed straight for his heart. Bellatrix screamed in fury, but the two struggled against one another, both trying to gain the upper hand. Harry and the rest of the group – those still standing, at least – watched rooted to the spot, too terrified to move.

Suddenly a silvery shape flew over their heads past the chaos. A gilded, winged Patronus – a phoenix. Dumbledore!

Bellatrix seemed to know that she was close to being caught, for she redoubled her efforts. She was like a wild jungle cat the way she hissed and scratched to try and get away from Snape.

"Lingua Ignis!" Bellatrix suddenly screeched, and a thin rope of fire burst from the end of her wand, coiling itself tightly around Snape. A yell of pain issued from him, and Harry could hear the slight sizzling of his cloak even from where he lay on the ground. As the fiery rope wound and clasped itself around the bare skin of his wrists, Snape instinctively recoiled from Bellatrix, letting go of her in the process. She dashed around him and ran at Harry, throwing an extremely strong, well-aimed curse his way.

"CRUCIO MAXIMA!" She shrieked. And this time when the spell hit, it felt as though Harry's very skin was being ripped at the seams. It was like being hit with the power of a thousand lightning bolts, still breathing and feeling everything while being torn apart by a pack of bloodthirsty, man-eating wolves. The absolute agony engulfed him, and his back arched completely off the ground, his limbs going stiff.

Then the velvety, welcoming darkness overtook him and he knew no more…

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

The bloodcurdling screams that tore from Harry's lungs made the very hair on the back of Snape's neck stand on end. He'd never heard a sound full of such tortured pain, and the fact that it was coming from his son made the searing anguish of the fiery rope still wrapped tightly around the bare skin of his wrists completely insignificant. But as he stumbled to his feet to go after Bellatrix, Harry's bloodcurdling screams abruptly ended.

Snape's heart stopped.

At that moment Dumbledore and McGonagall burst from the trees, alongside members of the Order who worked at the Ministry: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, and a terrified looking Arthur Weasley.

They all fired spells directly at Bellatrix. And although she was only mere feet from Harry's body, it was obvious that she would not be able to secure him without getting caught. She backed quickly away, firing rapid spells at her opponents. Snape's arms were still bound to his sides by the fiery rope, but he launched the bulk of himself at the woman to try and knock her off balance and somehow prevent her escape. However it was already too late – the space she had occupied just moments before was suddenly empty, and he landed hard on the ground.

Harry lay only feet away, his face incredibly drawn and pale and his hair wet and plastered to his face. Snape couldn't tell if his chest was rising and falling.

He writhed in desperation, trying without much success to get to Harry's side.

"Harry, oh God… SOMEONE RELEASE ME!"

Dumbledore and the others ran to them, the headmaster muttering the counter-spell with a wave of his wand. Able to move again, Snape crawled to Harry's side. Please God, please… Just let him be alive…

Snape paid no attention to McGonagall and Arthur Weasley rushing around to those that were unmoving on the ground, murmuring counter-curses and doing what they could for them. Dumbledore glanced worriedly across the garden at them as together they couched next to Molly Weasley.

"She's alive, Albus!" McGonagall called with relief. "Although she may need to visit St. Mungo's for a few blood-replenishing potions."

Snape heard none of this. Instead his eyes were only on Harry, his finger pressed firmly onto the boy's throat as others started to gather around, looking worriedly down at them.

"Is he…?" Weasley whispered, his arm wrapped tightly around Granger, who looked silently down on him with fat tears rolling down her swollen cheeks.

Snape didn't answer, desperately searching Harry's pale, lifeless face with his fingers still firmly against his neck. He couldn't find a pulse, and his breath caught in his throat. No, no, dear God, NO!

But then… Thank Merlin… Yes! There is was! Harry's pulse was thready and weak, but it was there. Snape sighed in relief, looking up at the faces pressed in around him.

"He's alive," he murmured, his gaze raking the worried eyes and bloodied faces of Harry's friends. They had been there fighting alongside Harry when Snape had not. Although these young Gryffindors had continually tried his patience and constantly pushed him past his limits, he knew that he would never forget that fact…

Snape removed three vials from his cloak pocket, having gotten into the habit of always having them on hand for the times when the Dark Lord lost his patience with his followers. Uncorking the pain potion and the two bottles of nerve potion, he knew that it would not be enough to cure Harry from the effects of the brutal Cruciatus Maxima that Bellatrix had tortured him with. But it would be a start.

Cradling Harry's head and shoulders in his arms, he lifted the boy as gently as he could and placed the first of the bottles to his lips, before lifting Harry's chin and massaging his throat to make him swallow. He repeated the actions with the rest of the potions, so focused on Harry that he didn't notice the raised eyebrows and growing looks of disbelief passing between the teenagers standing above him.

After a moment Harry's eyelids fluttered open, and Snape scrubbed a hand over his face, finally feeling as if he could breathe again.

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

With a groan Harry tried to rise, but his limbs were still too shaky and weak to support him. Hands landed on his shoulders, gently pushing him back as a gruff voice murmured, "Don't move, Harry. Let the potions take effect."

He slowly blinked his eyes, trying to see through the haze of pain that still engulfed his body. His vision finally starting to clear, he saw many more worried faces looking down on him than had been fighting Bellatrix, all silhouetted by the bright blue sky.

So they had been rescued… He hadn't the faintest idea how it had happened, but Harry was incredibly grateful.

"Mrs.—Mrs. Weasley," he said in a croaky voice. "Is she alright?"

Dumbledore leaned into his field of vision. "She will be fine, Harry. Bellatrix seemed to have used a cutting curse, and although there is considerable damage, we got to her in time. She is on her way to St. Mungo's now."

She will survive, thank Merlin… Harry couldn't imagine a life without Mrs. Weasley's warmth and overabundance of love. It was a horrendous concept that had come dangerously close to transpiring, and his mind shied away from thought.

"How did Bellatrix break down the wards? And how did you get here?" Harry rasped.

"All excellent questions, and stories for another time, I think," Dumbledore murmured, then addressed someone else hovering above him. "Severus, I don't believe it is safe here at the moment. I want to relocate everyone to Hogwarts for the evening."

But at Severus' name, Harry's heart had jumped into his throat.

He turned his head, dazed green connecting with hesitant black.

"You're here…" Harry whispered, and a hushed silence fell over the group. Even Dumbledore went still as his eyes took in the unexpected scene between the once hated professor and his most reviled student. Harry didn't notice any of this, almost in a trance brought on by lingering pain and the shock of actually seeing Snape before him. "I thought you never wanted to see me again…"

"Harry," Snape murmured, but he hesitated for a long moment. "Harry, I'm so sorry. What I did was indefensible, but… I couldn't – I didn't…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair and trying again. "After Bellatrix, I… I thought I'd lost you, son."

Seeing the glassy sheen in the man's eyes, Harry realized with a jolt that even after all that had happened between them, he had never stopped considering him family…

He struggled once again to sit up, and this time Snape grasped him by the shoulders to assist his clumsy efforts. Kneeling next to Harry, Snape held him steady as they gazed at each other. Then Harry flung himself into his chest, throwing his arms tightly around the man. He didn't care who was watching… To Harry, this was home.

"I thought I'd lost you too, Dad," he murmured into Snape's shoulder, and the man's arms surrounded him.

"You will never lose me again, Harry. I promise."

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

Snape held Harry securely in his arms, well beyond caring what others would think. His son was alive, safe in his arms, and going home where he belonged. That was all that mattered. He tried hard not to tremble at the thought of how close he had come to losing Harry that day.

"Severus," Dumbledore murmured after a long moment. Snape couldn't help noticing that although he looked tense and worried, there was a certain gratified serenity lingering in his eyes when he gazed at him. "I want Poppy to look everyone over. I think Harry should come back to Hogwarts with us."

"No," Snape said lightly as he pulled Harry's arm gently over his shoulder and slowly helped him rise. "He's coming home, Albus."

Dumbledore followed suit, rising gracefully to his feet despite his age. "Severus, I imagine that you will be summoned before the evening is done, and all I want is for Harry to be safe—"

"He will be safe," Snape murmured lightly – firmly – once more. It no longer mattered to Snape what the headmaster thought was best for Harry. The boy was his son,perhaps not by blood, but in every other way that mattered. And Snape knew that from that moment on, he would be making the decisions where Harry was concerned, not Albus Dumbledore. As much as he respected the man, Harry needed someone in his corner that put his own priorities and wellbeing in front of those of the Wizarding world.

"But… my boy…" Dumbledore pressed. "Surely you don't think it best for Harry to be alone, after everything that's happened! And with his injuries—"

"He will not be alone, Albus. And who better to tend his injuries than me – his father – a man who has suffered the same injuries frequently throughout his life?" The headmaster's eyebrows raised in surprise, and he silently opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, looked like a giant bearded fish. Indeed, it would have been comical had the situation not been so serious. "Now, as you have pointed out," Snape continued, not giving the man a chance to respond, "Harry's injuries need tending before I am summoned. We will no doubt be seeing each other again soon, Headmaster." And with that, he spun with Harry on the spot and was gone.

They landed with a thud in front of Spinner's End, Harry panting heavily at the exertion of his overly taxed muscles. The boy's legs would have collapsed beneath him had Snape not had his arm draped about his shoulders.

"Easy…" he murmured. "We're almost home."

Glancing around, he saw that the street appeared deserted. However he was still on edge, as Bellatrix had fled and judging by the lack of feeling in his Dark Mark, had yet to tell the Dark Lord what had happened. She could be anywhere at this moment. He knew Dumbledore was right and he didn't have a lot of time left, so he hurried them both to the door but still removed his wand, just in case.

Placing his palm upon the wood, he muttered the required incantations and noted with relief as that the wards gave no indications of being tampered with. Bellatrix may have been able to discover and destroy the wards used at the Burrow, but there was no possible way that she would be able to enter Spinner's End without his knowing – the wards here were of his own making, unknown to anyone else and particularly hard to break through.

He hurried Harry into the sitting room, turning on the lights with a flick of his wand and gently lowering Harry onto one of the sofas. The boy looked extremely pale, and his limbs continued to steadily tremble, twitching every now and then in an involuntary jerk.

"Stay here, and do not move," he said firmly. The boy nodded weakly, and Snape had the sneaking suspicion that he couldn't have moved from where Snape had placed him, even if he'd wanted to.

He hurried down to the lab, gathering supplies and lining them up on his work table. He then summoned his Death Eater robes and mask, knowing he'd need the despised items before the night was through.

While waiting for them to arrive from upstairs, he engraved small names and directions on the potion vials with a quick flick of his wand, explaining what each was used for and how often it should be taken. Then he placed them all into a small leather doctor's bag beneath his work bench, adding an unbreakable charm for good measure and listening as the clinks of glass muffled considerably. Snatching the hated robes and mask out of the air, Snape knew he was running out of time before he was summoned and took the stairs back up two at a time so that he could get Harry to safety before the dreaded moment occurred.

Hurrying back into the sitting room, Harry's head lay at an awkward angle against the back of the sofa, his raspy breaths still coming in pants because of the excruciating hurt. Snape knew the feeling well…

"Harry," he said to the drained boy, dropping to his knees beside him and rummaging through the bag for the potions he was looking for. "I know your body is still in pain and that all you want to do is sleep. But Dumbledore is right: the Dark Lord will undoubtedly summon me before long, and I don't want you to be alone. We won't be staying here tonight. Here," he said quietly, offering Harry his strongest nerve, pain, and muscle strengthening potions.

Harry did not speak or break eye contact as he silently downed each potion, and Snape was relieved to see his eyes slightly clear of pain and exhaustion, life and alertness slowly taking their place.

"Did… Did you mean what you said earlier?" Harry asked after a moment, suddenly very interested in the empty potion bottles in his lap.

"I normally do," Snape murmured with an attempt at a smile. "But what specifically are you referring to?"

"What you said to Dumbledore… about—about being my…" His voice faded away as he continued to look down into his lap, as if he suddenly realized the ridiculousness of what he was asking and knew it couldn't possibly be true. But Snape understood.

"Harry," he said, gently taking the bottles from him and setting them aside on the small coffee table, then raising the boy's chin with his finger. Harry met his gaze reluctantly, and they stared at each other for long moments, neither quite sure what to say.

Snape swallowed back his nerves. "You were the one thing in my life that wasn't supposed to be…" He paused, running a hand through his hair before trying again. "You've been right in front of me for years, and I was too spitefully stubborn to see it." Harry looked away, still uncertain of himself. Snape grasped the boy's chin with his thumb and forefinger, raising his face to meet Snape's sincere gaze. "I meant every word. You are my son in every way that matters, and I will never – never – let myself forget that again. I'm so sor—"

But his words were cut off as Harry threw himself into his chest. Snape wrapped his arms about the boy, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Harry's voice was also suspiciously thick as he murmured against Snape's shoulder, "Its ok. You don't have to say it. I forgive you…" His voice dropped to a whisper, "Dad."

Snape couldn't stop the tears from falling then, and his arms tightened around his son as he laid his cheek against the top of his head. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to protect this kind, loving, remarkable boy from all harm, despairing how impossible that task would be. I'll always be there, fighting alongside you, my son, he silently vowed. You'll never be alone again.

At that moment Snape felt the first prickling of sensation in the horrible mark on his arm, like needles in his skin. He suspected that Bellatrix may have finally returned to the Dark Lord's side, and knew that he and Harry were quickly running out of time.

"Harry," he murmured again, regretfully pulling away. "We don't have much time left. We have to go."

"Where?" The boy asked in confusion, but he rose without question from the sofa. Snape was gratefully relieved to see that Harry was far more steady and awake as he stood, but he held onto him nonetheless.

"Somewhere safe," he promised, lifting the doctor's bag of supplies with one hand while still holding onto Harry's shoulder with the other. He eliminated the lights with a flick of his wand, and they left through the front door once again, Snape murmuring a string of Latin phrases in conjunction with some complicated wand work to set his substantial protective wards in place.

"Hold onto me, Harry," he muttered, glancing up and down along the deserted street, gratified when Harry accepted the help without question. Spinning on the spot, they arrived at the last place anyone would be looking for Harry that night: Lily's apartment building. Harry stumbled on the landing, his legs still not at full strength, and Snape held tight to the boy until he could steady himself.

They had arrived in the emergency stairwell, which Snape often did due to the lack of surveillance cameras, as well as the unlikelihood of the muggles in the building using it, due to the elevator right down the hall.

"Where are we?" Harry muttered. But Snape didn't answer, the tension in him rising as the tingling needles in his arm increased.

"Come on. We need to get you inside."

As Snape opened the door onto Lily's floor, he prepared himself for all he was about to say. This wasn't how he'd wanted it to happen, but life – as usual – had left him little choice. Harry suddenly seemed to recognize where they were, and he looked at him in surprise, but said nothing as Snape raised his fist and rapped sharply on the door. It opened within seconds.

"Severus! Harry-!" Lily said, her smile immediately turning to concern as she saw the boy's arm draped around his shoulder as Snape helped him over the threshold. "My God—what happened? Put him over here, Severus," she said, motioning to the sofa.

Snape lowered him gently down, and Lily immediately smiled reassuringly at Harry, placing her palm against his cheek. Harry smiled a tired but genuine smile in return, the pain obviously forgotten for a moment. Jillian appeared in the door way to her bedroom.
"Severus!" she squealed. But as she spied his son she cried, "Harry! You came to visit!" And she hurried over to jump on the couch beside the boy.

Lily turned toward Snape as Harry tiredly smiled and murmured, "Hey Jilly!"

"What happened?" Lily asked, glancing worriedly down at the boy. "Was it family again?" But Snape had his wand out, already in the process of murmuring the string of Latin words to erect the same impenetrable wards that he'd raised at Spinner's End.

"What—What are you doing?" Lily questioned, a baffled look on her face as she gazed at the wand in his hand. He did not answer her before the wards were completely and firmly in place.

"Lily," Snape murmured, turning around and grasping her by the shoulders. "This isn't how I wanted this conversation to transpire, but I have little choice now." Her green eyes shone with confusion, and even a little apprehension, but the tingling in his arm forced him to continue. "Harry and I are wizards. I am a professor at a boarding school for magical British children, and Harry is one of my students."

The room suddenly went deathly silent, and even Harry and Jillian halted their conversation to look wide-eyed at Snape. Lily's face was bemused, as if she was expecting him to suddenly start laughing and announce that it was all some sort of prank. But Snape only looked at her, and her brows furrowed in confusion.

"What-? How-? Is this some kind of joke?" She asked quietly after a moment, backing away. "How am I supposed to react to—"

His gaze never wavering from hers, Snape gave a small flick of his wand. An upper kitchen cabinet opened and an empty wine glass issued from within, settling gently on the counter as a bottle of wine filled it unaided. The glass then lifted into the air and floated gently toward her.

"What the hell?!" She yelped in surprise, jumping back and bumping into the bookcase beside the television, making everything on the shelves rattle. She pressed herself against the wood, looking at the glass floating beside her in midair with alarm, and perhaps even a little fear. Breathing hard, her wide eyes flicked back to Snape, but she said nothing.

Snape ran a hand through his hair with a sigh and looked sideways at Harry, whose eyes were just as shocked by his actions as Lily's.

"Harry?"

The boy seemed to know what he was asking, for he slowly extracted his wand from his pocket and with a wave and a flick muttered, "Incendio Mimimus." The candles all around the room flickered to life.

"Wow…" Jillian whispered in awe beside him, obviously not afraid in the least.

Lily looked around her at all the candles, then slowly back at Snape.

"That's not all," he murmured, crossing the room to stand before her, moving slowly so as not to frighten her any further. He gently grasped the wine glass from the air and placed it firmly in her shaking hands. She took it without question, her eyes never leaving his. "Lily… You and Jilly are like us. You're witches."

"What?!" Both she and Harry cried in surprise. She and his son's eyes met in confusion, and a huge grin suddenly appeared on the boy's features. Lily took a large swallow of the wine, her hands still trembling.

"I just found out for certain today, but I've had my suspicions for a while," Snape continued. "I promise I will explain everything, but not now. Now I just need you to stay here and look after Harry. You will be safe behind the wards."

"Safe from who, Severus?" She murmured, and his heart ached to see the apprehension in her eyes. Instinctively he reached out, cradling her cheek against his rough palm and bringing her close to place a soft, reassuring kiss against her lips. She stepped into his embrace without hesitation.

A sudden choking sound issued from the couch, and they broke away. Harry was back to looking like a house-elf again, his eyes as wide as tennis balls. But he had a large smile plastered across his face as his gaze flicked between the two of them. Lily blushed prettily, looking down at her feet as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then glancing up at Snape with a shy smile. He couldn't help himself, and smiled back.

Their fingers gently caressed each other, and Lily looked down at their joined hands. "My God," she suddenly said with a gasp. "Severus, what happened to your wrists? They look… burned!"

"I'll be fine, Lily," he murmured. "I promise I'll explain—"

But at that moment the Dark Mark on his arm roared to life, and Snape cried out with the intensity of it, slapping his opposite hand over his forearm against the searing pain.

"Dad!" Harry cried, struggling to get to his feet.

"No…" Snape gasped. "Stay there, Harry." He snatched the hated Death Eater robes and mask from inside the doctor's bag, then straightened and looked at Lily's apprehensive face, murmuring, "I have to go."

"Go where?" she asked, understandably still a little panicked and overwhelmed with all that had transpired in the last few minutes.

He reached for her again, kissing her softly, trying to calm her fears. "I'll come back," he swore softly. "I'll always come back to you, Lily." And with a final glance around at his unexpected family, he Apparated to the Dark Lord's side.

Lily looked at the spot Snape had disappeared from for a few long, silent moments, too shocked to say or do anything.

"Mum, we're witches!" Jilly squealed, bouncing up and down next to him on the sofa. "Does that mean that we can do magic too, Harry? Like you and Severus?" Lily turned at her daughter's question and took another large gulp of the wine in her hand, then came to sit on the other side of Harry on the couch.

Harry was just as stunned as Lily by everything that had happened, but he dazedly answered the excited little girl. "Uh… Yeah, that's exactly what it means. Well…" he considered, glancing at Lily. He'd never heard of an adult not knowing that they were magical.

She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "There's got to be some sort of mistake. I mean I– I'd know if we could do things like... that." But she took anothernervous sip of her wine, looking over the rim of the glass at nothing.

"Well," Harry hesitated. "Not necessarily. I was raised by muggles, and I didn't know. And the professor doesn't usually make mistakes," he said with an encouraging smile. But Lily just looked at him with an uneasy expression on her face.

"Muggles?" she asked after a minute.

"Oh – people who aren't magical."

"And… You didn't know that you were…?"

"A wizard? I had no idea," Harry said. "Well, I knew that unexplainable stuff sometimes happened around me, but never in a million years did I consider that it could be magic. That stuff only happened in books and movies, not in real life."

"Yeah…" Lily murmured with a faraway expression on her face.

"Whathappened around you, Harry?" Jilly asked from his other side.

"Loads of stuff," he replied, thinking. "My aunt cut all my hair off once, the day before third grade started. I woke up the next day and it had all grown back," he said with a laugh. "She wasn't very happy about that. Oh, and I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin once, but that was an accident."

"Wow," Jilly murmured with a huge grin on her face. She walked around to Lily, taking the wine glass out of her hand and setting it on the coffee table. Then she scooted onto her mother's lap and wrapped Lily's arms around herself. Lily smiled lightly down at her daughter, kissing the top of her head.

They were silent for long moments, and then Lily quietly asked, "What did he mean, 'safe behind the wards'? Safe from who?"

"Voldemort." Harry's insides tensed with worry for his father. "He's a dark wizard that is trying to take over our world. He… he killed my parents when I was a baby."

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry."

He took a deep breath but continued, "It's alright. Now I have Severus. He… We…"

Lily reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I understand," she said with a smile. "His life wasn't the same while you were gone."

A warm feeling spread throughout Harry's insides, and he couldn't help smiling at the woman. My life wasn't the same, either… he thought before he said, "And now he has all of us."

"Yeah… It seems like he's been alone for a long time."

"I think he has," Harry muttered, not sure how much he should say as he didn't want to worry Lily. "Severus is… a spy… for our side – the good side. We call ourselves 'The Order of the Phoenix'. Voldemort has a group of followers too, the 'Death Eaters'. Severus… well… he joined the Death Eaters when he was really young." Lily's eyes went wide with surprise, her arms visibly tightening around Jilly. Harry rushed to explain, "He had a terrible childhood, and life wasn't easy for him – he was really angry all the time. He knows now that it was a horrible mistake." Lily stared at him a moment, then slowly nodded. "Anyway, he and my mom were… close… He turned spy for the Order to try and protect us, but Voldemort still murdered her and my dad. He tried to kill me too, but the curse didn't work and rebounded back on him. It's how I got this," and he pushed back his fringe to reveal his scar.

Her wide eyes took in the lightning bolt shape and she gasped in horror. "My God, Harry! You were just a baby! Thank God it didn't work!"

Harry nodded. "Voldemort disappeared for a long time. But two years ago…" He swallowed hard as he remembered Cedric and the graveyard. "Two years ago he came back."

"So Severus has been helping the Order to fight against him?"

"Yes," Harry replied simply. "I honestly don't know if the Order would be able to win this war without him…"

"Is that where he went? To talk to the Order?"

Harry hesitated, not wanting to worry her, but not wanting to lie to her either. If she was going to be a part of Severus' life, she deserved to know the danger he was in. If Harry was in her position, he'd want somebody to be honest with him.

"No, he's not with the Order. He… He's with Voldemort." Lily's eyes widened in fear, but to her credit, she did not fall apart or flinch away. "The tattoo on his forearm is Voldemort's mark – the Dark Mark. He brands his Death Eaters with it when they join, and he makes it burn to tell them when to come to his side. Severus is one of his highest-ranking Death Eaters, because Voldemort thinks he's spying for him, when he's actually spying for us."

"Oh…" was all that Lily could bring herself to say, and even Jilly, as young as she was, seemed to understand the inherent danger that his father was in.

After a moment she reached out from her mother's lap and took Harry's hand. "Don't worry," she said, "Severus is really smart. He'll come back soon."

Harry and Lily smiled at Jilly, but as their gazes met above the girl's head, Harry knew she was thinking the same as their smiles melted away.

Please God, let that be true…

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

Death Eater robes and mask securely in place, Snape entered Malfoy Manner and padded across the huge entrance hall to the darkly paneled entry at the far end. He opened the door without hesitation, and although the scene he found there was not as expected and gave him pause, it did not shock him.

The Dark Lord stood in front of the massive fireplace, a mask-less Bellatrix gazing worshipfully up at him as she knelt at his feet. The other Death Eaters were gathered around on either side, all currently turned and staring heavily back at Snape through their masks. Their eyes pierced him like many daggers, but he wore armor that none of them could see, and the feeling didn't trouble him in the least.

"Ah Severus, you're here," the Dark Lord murmured into the thick silence, the only other sound the cracking of the fire behind him. "Come… Join us."

Snape walked serenely toward the Dark Lord, not looking at anyone as he passed – not even at Bella as he kneeled calmly next to her at the Dark Lord's feet, though she did seem to be trying to catch his eye.

"Remove your mask, Severus," the Dark Lord murmured darkly, and he complied without hesitation. Snape set the mask beside him and turned his gaze unblinkingly up at the Dark Lord, feeling far calmer than he ever had in his presence. Strange that, he thought, since these could easily be my last moments here on Earth… But oddly even that notion didn't trouble him.

"Bellarix had some very interesting things to tell me about this afternoon, my friend," The Dark Lord murmured quietly, but Snape could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves.

"Oh?" He only showed the merest hint of interest, still refusing to look Bella in the eye, although he could tell that she was dying for him to do so.

"She tells me that she was able to bring down the wards surrounding the Muggle-Loving family's home, and was almost able to apprehend Harry Potter."

The sound of his son's name on the madman's tongue did not elicit the cold surge of fear that it once had. Instead, he simply continued to gaze steadily up at the Dark Lord.

"And just when she was about to capture the boy, who should appear to rescue him but… you? Tell me, Severus," he hissed dangerously, slowly removing his wand from inside his sleeve pocket. "Just whose side are you truly on in this war?"

Dumbledore was right, Snape thought while staring at the wand, realizing that he suddenly understood the headmaster and his capacity to stay completely composed and unruffled, even in the face of utmost danger.

Love truly does conquer all…

His gaze flicked serenely up to the snakelike face, and he could feel the Dark Lord trying violently to penetrate his mind, like a rapist in the midst of an attack. He easily threw up false memories of the day that would prove his innocence in the Dark Lord's mind, and could feel him ripping through them like a ravaging wolf. But in a deeper, more protected part of Snape's mind, his love easily tucked the true thoughts and memories of his family – as well as all the new emotions they evoked – neatly, protectively away behind his Occlumency shields.

Having love in his life now made it easy – so very, very easy – for Snape to lie to the Dark Lord. Jillian's giggling face as they made pancakes together; Lily's sweet, accepting kiss when he admitted that he loved her; Harry staring dazedly up at him as he forgave him and called him 'Dad'...

I may die fighting against you one day, Snape thought to himself as he stared at the Dark Lord. It may even be you that kills me. But you shall never have these. You shall never pollute the best of me with your evil darkness.

Snape gazed calmly into the threatening eyesabove him, knowing that although the Dark Lord did not fully trust him in that moment, the false memories had helped to persuade him that perhaps the allegations against Snape had been could tell that his calm, cool demeanor in the face of the Dark Lord's anger was beginning to persuade him of that fact.

"I remain your loyal servant, My Lord, as I ever have been." His gaze never wavered, and the falsehood slipped easily from his tongue.

"LIAR!" Bellatrix screeched beside him, still on her knees but unable to keep quiet. "You are a coward that refuses to openly declare your allegiance! You fought against me when I could have seized Harry Potter!"

Although he was kneeling beside her, Snape looked only at the Dark Lord.

"Of course I fought," he said with such calmness that he could have easily been telling her the flavor of tea he preferred with his biscuits. "I arrived with Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. What exactly do you think would have happened had I run to your side and joined the battle against them?"

"It doesn't matter, you should have—"

"Of course it matters, Bella," Snape sighed in invented irritation, finally turning to meet her gaze. "The information I provide is what gives us the edge in this war. Without my position so close to Dumbledore, we'd never truly know what he was planning. Do not underestimate the man, Bellatrix. He is a great and powerful wizard, and an incredibly dangerous foe. To give away my position for something as insignificant as killing Harry Potter would be a very rash, foolish, and incredibly stupid move – especially when we know that the boy will die regardless. But I wouldn't expect you to understand any of that, Bella," he dismissed as though he were speaking to an idiot. Turning his tranquil gaze to rest once again upon the Dark Lord he finished, "You, Bellatrix, are thinking only so far as how to kill Harry Potter. I, on the other hand, am here to assist the Dark Lord in winning the war against Dumbledore."

The woman was at a loss for words for a moment, sputtering her indignation. Then she shrieked, "How dare you-!" But the Dark Lord cut her off before she could even get started.

"Hush Bella," he reproached quietly. Even out of the corner if his eye Snape could see Bella's horrified gaze as she stared at the Dark Lord, looking as shocked and betrayed as if he had struck her. Snape could feel the Dark Lord's conviction of his guilt beginning to slip away, and he pressed his advantage.

"And if I may say so, My Lord," he said in a slightly admonishing tone as he turned to stare at Bellatrix once more. "Bella obviously did not tell you of her plans. She was alone, and her actions were very rash and poorly thought out… She almost got herself caught today, and as one of your closest servants, I fear the information she could have provided to the Order – even unwittingly."

"WHAT?!" Cried Bella, her enraged gaze flicking from Snape up to the Dark Lord. "M-My Lord! I only wanted to surprise you with the gift of Harry Potter's life! I – I would never tell them anything! I spent fifteen years in Azkaban—!"

"Yes, indeed you did…" The Dark Lord cut her off, petting the top of her head as if she were some twisted, ugly pet. Bella's face softened into a simpering look as she gazed worshipfully up at him, reveling in his touch, but the Dark Lord continued, "And if you were thrown into Azkaban again, what good would you be to me?" Bella flinched as her face dropped, strongly reminding Snape of the family dog that had been brutally kicked after nipping at the baby.

"No," the Dark Lord murmured thoughtfully, continuing once again to pet her hair, and Snape knew in that moment that he had successfully convinced the Dark Lord of his innocence. "Severus is right. You should have come to me with your plans. You needlessly endangered my rise to power – you knew we were gathering information on the boy. But your misguided attempt to capture him could have ruined everything. I'm afraid you will have to be punished."

And with that he brutally grasped the roots of her hair and tossed her away from him, Bellatrix crying out at the sudden pain.

"Take your assigned place," the Dark Lord said dismissively to Snape. "Your continued loyalty to me will not go unrewarded."

Snape bowed his head. "Yes, My Lord." He rose slowly and passed a sobbing Bellatrix, curled up on the floor in the fetal position and weeping into her hands.

"P-Please, My Lord," she sniveled as the Dark Lord slowly approached her. "I am your most loyal servant! I would n-never betray you!"

"Oh but Bella… You already have. Crucio Maxima!" Bellatrix's shrieks of pain ricocheted around the entire room as her body flailed and stiffened in agony. The Dark Lord ended the curse with a flick of his wand, but the echoes of Bellatrix's screams continued to bounce around the room for several seconds. He didn't let the woman rest for long.

"Well," The Dark Lord continued, as if putting on a grand show. "Even you cannot deny that you've been flaunting yourself since becoming my lover. So get to your feet, Bella – we're about to give them a show that they will not soon forget!"

The woman stumbled, trying to gain her footing, but collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"Can you not stand?" The Dark Lord crooned softly, as if speaking to a wounded animal. "No matter, my dear, no matter. Allow me to assist you." And with a wave of the wand in his hand, long manacles dropped from the ceiling, slithering and twisting in the air until they clasped around her wrists with a metallic clang. Pulling tight, they dragged Bella up, up, up until the ends of her toes just barely brushed against the cold floor.

"Turn and face your audience," The Dark Lord continued, and with a quick twist of his wand, the chains spun her around until she was facing the assembled Death Eaters. Her head hung limply between her shoulders, and Snape was unsure if the woman was even conscious…

"I have to admit Bella that as attractive as you are, you do seem to like to flaunt yourself to an incredible extent. So let's see what it is that you're so very proud of." With another slight flick of his wand, Bellatrix's dress fell from her body and puddled in a heap at her feet, leaving her completely naked for the gathered Death Eaters to devour with their eyes. To his extreme disgust, Snape even heard grunts of pleasure as a few of the Death Eaters around him visibly adjusted themselves.

"Beautiful..." The Dark Lord murmured. "But… I wonder how you would look if there were a few scars that marred that lovely skin?" Stepping close enough to block her naked form from the view of the Death Eaters, The Dark Lord used his wand to carve into the skin directly above her breasts. Bellatrix came suddenly to life, screaming and thrashing against the chains holding her.

"My Lord, STOP!" She cried out, but the clanking of the heavy chains as she struggled was her only response.

The Dark Lord finished with a flourish, and when he stepped away, the word "SCHEMER" was etched deeply into her skin, the gashes dripping blood between her breasts and down her naked flesh. The room was deathly silent, and the continuous drip, drip, drip of her blood against the hard floor could be heard by all, as could Bellatrix's small, pitiful whimpers.

"I'm sorry, My Lord," she moaned pathetically. "Forgive me…"

"Forgive you? Forgive you?! You, who could have easily revealed my most guarded secrets had you'd been caught during your foolish plan to capture Harry Potter? I think not, Bella!" And he raised his wand. "Avada—!"

"NOOOOO!"

Next to Snape, Narcissa Malfoy suddenly threw herself at her sister, covering Bellatrix's body with her own. Lucius reached for his wife, trying desperately to prevent her from interfering, but was now attempting to get back in line without drawing any additional attention to himself.

The Dark Lord paused, looking curiously at the small woman.

"No..? Why Narcissa, do you have something you wish to add before Bella's punishment is carried out?"

Narcissa threw herself at the Dark Lord's feet, weeping as she desperately plead for her sister's life.

"Please, My Lord… Spare her. She has been sufficiently punished for her mistakes. She will not betray you again. Please…"

The Dark Lord started down at the crying woman for a moment, then stooped to help her to her feet by grasping her hands. Narcissa's continued sniffles were easily heard in the thick silence.

"Oh, my girl… Do not cry. You have persuaded me. I shall spare your traitorous sister's life."

"Thank you! Thank you, My Lord!" Narcissa gasped.

But when the Dark Lord reached out and touched the ends of her white-blond hair, rubbing it suggestively between his fingers, she went very still.

"Of course," The Dark Lord murmured, "there will have to be certain concessions for my kindness. Nothing ever comes free in this wretched world…"

Snape felt Lucius stiffen beside him, and the man watched with baited breath as his wife's eyes slid slowly to her sister, then glanced briefly in her husband's direction before she lowered her head and nodded at the Dark Lord.

"It's settled then," the Dark Lord murmured, bringing the tips of her white-blond hair up to his lipless mouth and kissing the strands. With a slight wave of his wand, the chains disappeared and Bellatrix collapsed in a heap on the ground. Snape thought he heard her whimper her sister's name.

"Cissy… No…"

But the Dark Lord paid her as much attention as he would a cockroach scurrying in his path. Ignoring Bellatrix completely, he took Narcissa's hand and held it aloft like a queen as he pulled her toward his private chambers. And although she must have been terrified, Narcissa kept her shoulders rigid and straight as she trailed him.

Lucius lunged forward as if to follow them, but Snape held him back.

"Don't, Lucius. It will go easier for her if you do not make trouble."

"That is my wife, damn you!" The man spat, trying to tear himself away from Snape's grasp as he continued to stare at the door that Narcissa and the Dark Lord had just disappeared behind.

"Think of your son, Lucius!" Snape urged. "Draco needs a father! What would happen to him and Narcissa if you were killed?" The man's face paled behind the black eye patch, and although his movements stilled, Lucius' body continued to quiver as a battle raged within himself. Finally, self-preservation seemed to win out and with a last heated look, he stormed away in the opposite direction.

Feeling eyes on him as the rest of the Death Eaters emptied from the hall, Snape turned to find Bellatrix naked and bleeding, still too weak to rise but glaring at him from the floor. Pure and hostile hatred emanated from her small frame. Sneering down at her, Snape left the hall. But he couldn't help the chill that went slithering down his spine as he turned his back on her.

It was late when Snape apparated into the emergency stairwell at Lily's apartment. He'd gone immediately to Dumbledore after the Death Eater meeting, assuring him that at least for the time being, his position as a spy was in no threat to being discovered.

He'd then demanded to know how the wards surrounding the Burrow had so easily fallen, to which Dumbledore had replied, "For months, I have known that the house elf living at Order headquarters has been passing information on to Bellatrix Lestrange. It is actions taken directly by Kreacher – on Bellatrix's orders – that led to Sirius' death. You must remember that, before she was Bellatrix Lestrange, she was first and foremost Bellatrix Black, and the bloodline is still valued very highly by the elf."

"But—How?" Snape raged. "How could she know the exact wards and how to destroy them?"

"Although I have given orders not to discuss details around Kreacher since that night at the Ministry, before then we never exactly made our plans a secret at headquarters. In fact, they were usually discussed freely and in detail, as we believed that it was safe to do so. Kreacher could have easily overheard our past arrangements and guessed our intentions when Harry was moved to the Burrow. All he had to do then was give that information to Bellatrix."

Snape would normally have been enraged by this knowledge of the betrayal that could have easily cost his son his life. But after everything, he was just so tired. Tired of the darkness that ruled his every move; tired of the duplicity; tired of the fact that he couldn't just settle down with his family and lead a normal life with the people he loved.

And so it was in that exhausted state that he had apparated back to Lily's apartment – a place he was quickly starting to think of as home.

Or perhaps it was the people that made him feel that way…

Reaching her apartment, he placed his palm against the wooden door and whispered the Latin enchantments, relived when it popped open without any warnings or alarms. The evening had gone smoothly, then. Thank Merlin.

The house was quiet and dark as he pushed open the door, the only light coming from the candles that Harry had magically lit earlier that evening. Had Lily even bothered to blow them out? Or had she allowed them to burn as a reminder of the strange and dangerous new life that she was now an integral part of?

He padded quietly into the sitting room and could clearly see through the open bedroom door on the opposite side of the sitting room. A small strand of twinkle lights strung above the bed illuminated Harry, who was sleeping soundly among pink pillows and a Disney Princess bedcover. The site made Snape chuckle. Jilly was asleep on the trundle pulled out from underneath her bed, and he realized that it was a scene he might have come across in any normal family home – a brother and sister sleeping peacefully near one another. His heart swelled at the thought.

A slight movement on the other side of the sitting room caught Snape's attention, and his eyes immediately flicked to Lily sitting on the sofa with her arms wrapped around her knees. She was staring into the light of the candle in the middle of the coffee table, her face looking anxious, and she was so entangled in her own thoughts that she hadn't even heard him come in.

"Lily…"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, but immediately rose with a look of immense relief. "Severus! Oh, thank God." She threw herself into his arms, and Snape held her close as he buried his face in her lavender-scented hair, taking a moment to allow her goodness and purity to wash through him. It was a comfort after the evil presence that he'd been forced to endure inside his mind. She was still pressed up against him with her face in the crook of his neck as she murmured, "After Harry told me about Voldemort, I was so worried about you…"

Snape flinched at her words – not at the name, which to this day he couldn't bring himself to use – but in surprise at the fact that she knew about the Dark Lord at all. He pulled slightly away, and his face must have betrayed his confusion because she quickly explained, "Harry and I talked…"

"Of course," he murmured, shaking his head. "The boy doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut."

She glanced up at him, nibbling anxiously on her bottom lip. "Don't be angry with him, I was the one who—"

"I'm not angry with him," he said with a sigh. "I just… wish that all of this could have been avoided. I never imagined having to introduce you to your heritage in such a way."

She hesitated. "Severus… I… I think you're wrong about us. What you and Harry are… it's amazing. But Jilly and I… We're not. There's no way we could be! We're just… us. Plain old us."

Snape's eyebrows raised as he looked at the remarkable woman in his arms. Even now, after everything, she didn't recognize her own worth. Cupping her face in his hands, he hesitated a hairs-breadth away from her lips and whispered, "Even if the two of you were not witches, I'd gladly spend the rest of my days proving to you how wrong you are. You are amazing… And you are certainly anything but plain."

His lips melded onto hers, catching her gasp as the kiss quickly escalated and he crushed her body to him. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her and not think about all that had happened that day. But as he caught site of her small, pale hand tangled in his Death Eater robes, he suddenly pulled away, disgusted with himself.

"I need a shower," he murmured apologetically. "I can't stand to be near you with the vile stench of those evil bastards still on me."

Lily's eyes were hooded with desire but also flooded with understanding. Breaking away from him, she moved to Jillian's room and softly closed the door. Then, grasping his hand, she pulled him across the other side of the sitting room and into her own bedroom.

Closing the door behind them, she looked at him greedily but made no move to touch him. Instead, she made her way to the bathroom, turning on the shower so that steam billowed from the spout and began filling up the small room. Knowing that his eyes were watching her every move, she slowly – deliberately – peeled her shirt off above her head. Then she stepped out of her jeans with her back still to him. Unhooking her bra, she let it and her lacy panties fall to the floor before she turned to stare at him. The look on her face could almost be described as a challenge – or an invitation.

The site of her took his breath away, and the memory of Bellatrix's beaten, broken, and bloody body was scrubbed from his mind, replaced instead with the vision standing before him.

Snape held his breath when she reached for him. Her hands immediately slipped beneath the heavy fabric of his robes and pushed it over his head. He tossed them aside, wishing yet again that he could simply burn them to ash and never think on them again. But any rational thought was suddenly impossible as Lily's fingers fiddled with the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down and away from his body so that the only darkness left between them was the dark anticipation of their desire.

Snape kissed her, and she sighed into his mouth, igniting his passion. With a growl he lifted her easily onto the sink countertop, stepping between her thighs and delving into the crook of her neck, gently kissing and nipping a trail across the petal-soft skin and down to her collarbone. Moaning at the contact, she tried to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, but he grasped both wrists and pushed them up against the mirror, effectively trapping her as he pressed his hard planes firmly into her soft curves.

He took his time kissing her, taking control and directing each position, each place that he wanted to lavish attention. She seemed to instinctively know that he needed this – needed to be in control after having such lack of it throughout the horrific day. She didn't fight him, only urged him on with soft moans and pleading, insistent kisses.

He took her earlobe between his teeth, reveling in the sounds of her heavy panting and soft sighs and allowing them to scrub the horrific memory of Harry's agony and Bellatrix's screams from his mind. Every controlled movement that he worshipped along her skin elicited a sweet, satisfying reaction. He allowed them all to replace the horror that he had witnessed that day, releasing the darkness that could not survive in the light that was Lily's presence.

When he finally pulled her into the shower, it was not only the water but also the feeling of Lily's soft skin sliding against his own that finally allowed him to feel clean, as unsoiled and pure as the woman he held tightly in his arms.

. . . . .

Snape awoke on his side in the early hours of the pale blue dawn, Lily's head pillowed on his outstretched arm with his other arm draped protectively around her middle. It was a wonderfully delicious way to drift back into consciousness, with her magnificent bottom tucked firmly into his front. He could feel every inch of her pressed against him, from her shoulders all the way down to her tiny feet. Their bodies fit together as if they had been made for it. The wave of love that washed through him made him tighten his arms around her, and he lay there for long minutes simply listening to her breathe and feeling more at peace than he could ever remember.

But he sighed as the rising sun began to light the room. He was loathe to leave Lily's side but knew that if he didn't get a move on, he would not have time to complete all he had planned for today. Sliding out from behind, he looked down at her beautiful sleeping form for a long moment before conjuring a single white lily flower and a note that read: "Gone home for a change of clothes. Be back soon. –S". Placing these on the pillow beside her, Snape turned and quietly dressed in the bathroom, then apparated to Spinner's End directly from there.

Landing on the front stoop, he glanced quickly up and down the deserted-looking street. All seemed undisturbed in the early morning sun, and he placed his palm against the door and murmured the incantations. The door popped open without any warnings or alarms – all was quiet.

First thing's first.

Knowing what was to come later that day, he went immediately upstairs to his wardrobe, not looking forward to what he was about to do. Sliding his normal button downs all the way over, he pulled out something that he'd never actually worn before now. It had been a Christmas gift from his Lily – the last she'd ever given him, as the fight between them had been only a few months afterward. She'd gifted him with it in the hopes of breaking him out of his habit of only wearing black, perhaps hoping that it would be the first step in getting his attention away from the Dark Arts. It hadn't worked. But he'd never been able to bring himself to throw it out.

Looking at the dark brown leather jacket, he wondered if he was losing his mind.

Knowing it was sized for a teenage boy and that it would not fit across his now broadened and more muscular arms and shoulders, Snape took out his wand to expand and enlarge the soft, supple leather. He changed into his normal white button down and trousers, then slipped into the jacket so he could finish his morning routine.

As he headed into the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and stopped short. Although he felt ridiculous, he had to admit that he didn't necessarily look horrible. The jacket was cut to accentuate the shape of his body, which he had to admit looked somewhat decent when not covered by all those layers of fabric. His arms and shoulders were corded with muscles that he'd never paid much attention to, but being faced with them now he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. Perhaps he was not quite the ugly duckling he'd always thought himself to be…

Making his way back downstairs, he saw that someone had kindly thought to bring over Harry's trunk from the Weasley's. After shrinking it down to fit within his pocket, Snape retrieved the bag of gold that he had given Lupin to take Harry shopping. It was somewhat lighter after that shopping trip but not considerably so, and he knew it would be more than enough for the day he had planned. And so, after setting the wards in place, he apparated back to Lily's apartment.

He heard the commotion of breakfast being cooked when he walked in the door followed swiftly by the laughter of children, and he smiled to himself as he took a moment to savor the normalcy of it all. This is what life should be – filled with moments of passion, the love of a family, secure in the knowledge that his loved ones would be safe from all evils. He knew the thought was only a wish in that moment, but vowed that he would continue fighting until he could make it a reality.

Walking around the corner, he saw Lily at the stove wrapped in her long silken dressing gown. He approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her and placing his mouth against her ear as he murmured, "That smells good."

She tilted her head to the side, exposing more of her neck to his mouth as she paused in her cooking and whispered with a smile, "It is good. I'm an excellent chef, remember?" Snape chuckled. "Thank you for my flower," she said, and as she turned in his arms a look of utter shock crossed over her features. "Holy…! Wo-o-ow… You clean up nice."

His only answer was a gruff snort as he released her and peered into the sitting room at the kids. He didn't care what he looked like, he told himself, as long as he wasn't recognized today. But he had to admit that deep down, her words secretly pleased him.

Harry and Jillian were playing a board game, and he watched them for a moment. Snape was relieved to see that the boy looked stronger, and his pallor was a much healthier color than the day before. He noticed with a frown though when Harry's hand shook ever so slightly as he reached to move his piece across the board.

Snape walked around the corner into the sitting room, and as Harry caught sight of him, his reaction was much the same as Lily's.

"Morning, Dad—whoa." The boy's face was riddled with shock for a moment before a grin spread across his features as he looked him up and down. Snape rolled his eyes.

"It's a leather jacket, Potter. Stop looking at me as if I'm wearing a bucket on my head."

"For you, it may as well be a bucket on your head," Harry muttered with a smirk. But then more loudly, "It looks good on you! What's the occasion?"

Snape eyed him sternly. "First I want to know how you feel."

Harry's face sobered. "Better. Still a little weak," he admitted. "And my hands are trembling a bit. But definitely a lot better than yesterday."

"Come," Snape said, motioning for him to sit on the sofa. "Let me take a look at you."

Harry had trouble rising as his knees kept buckling beneath him, but Jillian immediately jumped up and helped him to his feet. "Thanks, Jilly," Harry murmured, accepting her assistance as she led him over to the sofa, scooting over to make room for her next to him.

Snape perched himself on the edge of the coffee table in front of Harry. He put the boy through his paces, having him move and stretch in certain ways so that Snape could assess his condition. He was lucky – the Cruciatus Maxima was strong enough to do serious lasting damage both physically and mentally, as proven by the Longbottoms. But judging by Harry's movements, he would recover.

"I think another nerve potion is in order," Snape announced after watching Harry's fingers twitch when Snape asked him to move them each individually. He pulled the leather doctor's bag off the floor and into his lap. "Are you in any pain?"

"No. Well… Nothing like yesterday. I'm just a little sore."

"Like you got run over by the Knight Bus sore, or like you are recovering from a strenuous work out sore?" Snape asked.

"Mmm… More like I had to fight off a Gindylow sore," Harry said.

Snape nodded. "Yes, well… I believe you would know firsthand what that feels like, after stealing a large portion of my Gillyweed." He smirked when Harry sputtered in indignation, but cut him off before he could say anything. "Another pain potion as well, then." Harry scowled at him as Snape handed over the appropriate potions.

"You know that wasn't me…" he grumbled as he tossed back the glowing liquids.

Jillian looked curiously at them both before asking, "What's a Grindylow?"

"Food is ready," Lily announced from the kitchen.

"Let's go help your mom set the table, and I'll tell you over breakfast," Harry said to the girl with a smile. Snape noticed with satisfaction that he already looked stronger, as his knees didn't seem to trouble him as he rose from the sofa.

Sitting around the round table like a proper family, Snape couldn't help but smile at the feeling it evoked. Lily's gaze met his, and she seemed to understand his contentment. She reached out to him under the table and squeezed his hand with a smile. Then she turned her attention back to Harry, who seemed to be enjoying regaling the girls with tales of his adventure in the Black Lake during the TriWizard Tournament.

"He turned his head into a shark?" Jilly gasped.

"You can actually do that?" Lily asked in awe.

"Oh yeah!" Harry replied eagerly. "I have another teacher that's an Animagus. She can transform herself at will completely into a cat."

"Wow…" Lily murmured, still seeming a bit overwhelmed with everything.

"I wish we could go to your school!" Jilly sighed wistfully.

Snape felt that it was a good moment to chime in. "Well, about that… I believe it's time for you to learn a little about the world you come from. I'd like to take you to a very special place today – Diagon Alley."

"Oh wow, really?" Harry said excitedly. "Jilly, you're going to love it! It's filled with all sorts of amazing things! Gringotts, Florean Fortescue's… And just wait until you see the twins' joke shop!" At the thought of the Weasley twins, he looked seriously, almost sadly at Snape. "Do you know how Mrs. Weasley is doing? Have you spoken to anyone?"

"I spoke to Dumbledore last night. She will be fine, Harry. She may have a few scars, as Dark Magic always leaves an unremoveable mark. But I doubt that she'll have any lasting damage other than that. Mrs. Weasley was lucky – all she needed was a few blood replenishing potions." Harry looked extremely relieved to hear it.

Lily's eyes flicked back and forth between them in surprise. "Weasley? As in… As in my second-cousins? You know them?"

"Your cousins?!" Harry gasped in surprise, but a large grin stole across his face. "Mrs. Weasley is one of my best friends' mum!" His eyes twinkled mischievously as he gazed at Snape out of the corner of his eye. "You're dating a Weasley, Dad…" He snickered. "Just wait until Ron finds out."

Snape threw his waded up napkin at his son's face, but Harry just laughed. "Go get ready, you two. Oh, and here are your things, Harry," he said, pulling the matchbox-sized trunk out of his pocket and enlarging it after placing it on the ground.

Jilly giggled and Lily's eyes were the size of saucers. "This magic stuff is going to take some getting used to…"

As the children dressed and readied themselves for the day, Snape helped Lily clear the dishes from the table. "What happened to Mrs. Weasley?" she asked quietly after a moment.

"Did Harry not tell you?"

"I could have kept him up all night asking questions, but he was exhausted."

"Well… She was attacked yesterday by a Death Eater named Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry sustained his injuries by trying to fight her off."

Lily's eyes had widened with worry. "Oh… She'll be alright though?"

"I'm sure she's a little shaken. But she will be fine."

Lily was quiet for a moment. But as Snape carried the last of the dishes into the kitchen and she piled everything into the sink she asked, "Am I missing something about you and the Weasleys?"

"Well, let's just say that the Weasleys are… uh… the last family that you would ever imagine me being a part of." She nodded, still looking a little confused.

When she went to start washing the dishes, Snape halted her and said, "Allow me." With a flick of his wand, the first of the dirty dishes rose into the air and began washing, then drying itself before disappearing back into the cupboard from which it came.

"Now that I could get used to," Lily murmured in wonder. She maneuvered into his arms and placed her own around his waist. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said with a kiss. He growled as her mouth opened beneath his, then pulled gently away. "Unless you want the children to find you bent over the side of that sofa when they come out, you'd better get ready too." He gently smacked her backside, promising to continue where they left off at a more appropriate time. With a sassy smile and a pretty flush to her cheeks, she too disappeared to get dressed.

When the entire family was dressed and gathered in the sitting room, Snape pulled Harry to his feet and announced, "Now for the Glamour."

"The what?" Lily asked curiously.

"Well, I don't want Harry or myself to be recognized out in public today, so we're going to change our appearances. The spell that allows us to do so is called a Glamour."

"So you're going to make yourselves look like different people?" Jilly asked, and Snape nodded down at her. "Oh, wait, wait!" she cried, and she quickly bent down and opened the cabinet beneath the television. She came back to Snape's side with a thin, rectangular, covered box. She handed it to Snape, who looked down at the pictures covering it in confusion.

"Free Willy 2," he murmured, reading the title of the box. "What is this?"

"A movie, silly!" she giggled. "It's my favorite! Can you make Harry look like him?" And she pointed to a boy on the back of the box who looked to be about Harry's age. He had a huge smile on his face as he rode on the back of a massive whale.

He cocked an eyebrow and looked disdainfully at Lily. "This is what you muggles consider entertainment?"

"Don't ask," she said, laughing as she shook her head.

Harry took the movie in his hand and examined the picture, then groaned. But he had a tolerant smile on his face when he asked, "Ugh, Jilly… Are you serious?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Please Harry?"

Harry groaned playfully again, then sighed. "Alright…"

Snape set to work on Harry's features, broadening his face and mouth, filling in the hollow under his cheekbones, and making his eyes a bit squintier in shape. Jillian and Lily both gasped when Harry's hair changed color, becoming curlier as it grew backwards into his skull.

"Wicked!" Jillian cried. "You look just like Jesse!"

"That is so weird," Lily laughed, and Harry nodded.

"It feels even weirder! Like I'm wearing another person's skin suit!" Harry responded, glancing in the mirror hanging above the sofa, slowly nodding his head in approval as he examined himself from all angles. He looked thoughtfully up at Snape. "Better than Polyjuice Potion, though…"

"Wait a minute," Snape said in alarm. "When have you-?"

"Mum's turn!" Jilly cried. "Who do you want Severus to look like, Mum?"

Snape's guarded, wary gaze shot to Lily. "Wait a minute!" he repeated. "No. That is not happening."

But a wicked grin had taken over Lily's features. "Oh, it is most definitely happening."

"Yeah Dad," The boy from the box chimed in with a cheeky smirk. "Jilly got to choose what I looked like. It's only fair that Lily gets to choose who you're going to look like!"

Jillian just giggled as she bounced up and down, smiling at the rest of them.

"What are you laughing at?" Snape scoffed at the little girl. But she just continued to grin up at him. After looking at all three of their laughing faces in turn, he knew there was no escaping. He sighed in exasperation. "Fine… But just this once."

Jilly clapped before diving underneath the television again.

"Wait… How does she-?"

She came up with another small, rectangular box and handed it immediately to her mother. Harry the whale boy looked over Lily's shoulder with a question on his face, and Lily pointed out someone particular. The boy's eyes grew wide and his eyebrows shot up into his curly hairline as he burst out laughing.

Snape snatched the box out of Lily's hands, reading the cover title.

"Legends of the Fall… Woman, I'm going to make you rue the day you were born if you think this is who you're sticking me with…"

Lily just smirked up at him with a sassy smile as she pointed to the blond man with the blue eyes and scruffy face. "I've always been a Brad Pitt fan."

Snape scrubbed his face with his palm. "Merlin's beard, what have I done to deserve this?"

Curly-haired Harry excitedly held up his wand crying, "I'll do it!"

"I don't think so," Snape grumbled, pushing the wand away from him as if it were a loaded gun. "I'd rather not walk around with green hair and purple teeth all day, thank you very much."

"Hey, I'm not that bad! And I could use the practice."

"I'll let you practice on Lily at another time."

"Hey!" The woman cried, laughing in indignation.

"Be thankful I'm not insisting on something more painful in retaliation for insisting I debase myself like this." And with a resigned sigh he looked at himself in the mirror and began morphing into the man on the box – the unkempt, grubby looking Brad Pitt character.

"Well?" he asked when he was done, and he couldn't tell by their wide-eyed looks if he looked decent or like he's been ravaged by a few of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts.

"You look…" Whale boy started, but tapered off with a shocked expression and a smile.

"I can't believe I get to go on a date with Brad Pitt!" Lily squealed in a teasing tone.

Snape sighed, the blond scruffy stubble scratchy against the palm of his hand as he rubbed his face in irritation. But Lily continued the torture.

"You should be wearing a blue sweater with that jacket. It would bring out your eyes."

"Woman…" Snape growled in warning. But before he could say anything else, Harry had murmured a quick spell, and his white button down morphed into a denim-colored V-neck cashmere sweater.

"I told you I wasn't that bad," he said with a smirk. "And she's right. That color really brings out your eyes."

"Does everyone have a firm grip?" Snape double-checked. "Jilly, hold tight to Harry. On second thought… hold tight to me, too." Harry shot him an irritated glance, but his father continued, "Lily, are you alright? Ok… On the count of three. One… Two…" And on three he spun with a crack! out of the empty emergency stairwell, landing in a quiet, dim alleyway beside the record store that bordered The Leaky Cauldron.

Harry stumbled on the landing, but his dad had expected it and held firmly to a handful of the back of Harry's shirt, which kept him from bringing Jilly down with him. The young girl didn't seem much phased by apparition, and after a quick moment of surprise as she glanced around at their new surroundings, she looked up at him with a smile.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"London," Snape responded.

Harry meanwhile was looking at Lily, who seemed to like apparation just about as much as Harry did – which was to say, not at all. "Do you always feel like a golf ball being sucked through a garden hose?" The older woman asked, her nose crinkling in an expression of dislike.

"Pretty much," Harry murmured, rubbing his stomach as the nausea dissipated.

"You get used to it," Snape said simply. "Is everyone ready?"

They headed out onto the busy sidewalk, and Harry noticed that both Lily and Jillian's gazes immediately settled on The Leaky Cauldron, unlike the rest of the muggles walking quickly past them whose eyes seemed to slide from the bookstore on one side to the record store on the other without really seeing the grimy little pub in between. Harry smiled to himself – it was only more proof of what Snape had already discovered. They really were witches.

"Remember Harry," his father suddenly muttered at his side. "You're not you. So don't be your irritatingly friendly Gryffindor self and say hello to every face you recognize."

"Yeah, I'll remember," he grumbled.

Walking into the dimly lit place, they were immediately greeted by Tom the bald, toothless barman. "Greetings, my friends! May I get you and your family something to eat? Something to drink? It's shaping up to be a hot day out there!"

"We're simply on our way to Diagon Alley," Snape retorted, obviously not happy with immediately being singled out when he was trying to blend in.

"Thank you, though." Harry quickly added, and he couldn't help noticing the two witches in the corner – both about Mrs. Weasley's age – gazing at them. Or more precisely, gazing at Snape. Or… gazing at the scruffy, long-haired visage that Snape had borrowed. They hurriedly looked away when they noticed Harry's eyes on them.

Odd…

But he shrugged it off as he followed his family to the back of the small pub, out into the courtyard where there was nothing but a trash can and weeds jutting through a few cracks in the uneven bricks beneath their feet. The girls looked over at him and Snape in confusion. Harry grinned, not taking his eyes off their faces as his father counted three bricks up, and two across, and tapped the brick he landed on lightly with his wand.

The red stone blocks began to quiver and fold in on themselves, almost like Snape's potion lab at Spinner's End, but in reverse. After only a few moments, they were staring through a large archway that released them onto the narrow, cobbled street of Diagon Alley.

Both Lily and Jillian had matching shocked expressions on their faces, their eyes wide and they're mouths formed into perfectly puckered 'O's. Harry and Snape were on either side of them, and they chuckled knowingly at each other when their eyes met.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Snape announced.

Harry remembered wishing that he had eight more eyes to take everything in with, and judging by the looks on Lily and Jillian's faces, they must have felt the same way. His father gently shepherded the group over to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, which Harry knew was only going to add to the girls' astonishment.

Sure enough, the moment they entered the quiet store, both of them blinked in rapid succession. And even though he'd seen it before, Harry couldn't say that he blamed them. Giant barrels of different ingredients stood on display offering their wares at the front half of the store. Sunlight streaming through the large glass windows highlighted everything from Black Beetle Eyes to Mistletoe Berries brimming from their tops. The rear of the store was dimly lit, and shelves along the walls were lined with jars of herbs and bright powers. Inside some of the jars were even more exotic ingredients than in the barrels up front, such as Dragon Blood, Flobberworm Mucus, Rose Thorns, and Lionfish Spines. The really rare and expensive ingredients – like Unicorn Horns, Wolfsbane, and Acromantula Venom – was lined on shelves behind the counter, which was currently manned by an old, leathery-looking gentleman who smiled warmly at them.

"Good day, sir," he welcomed Snape as his father strolled confidently up to the counter. "How may I help you?"

Snape pulled a bit of parchment out of his pocket and slid it across the counter. "I need these supplies, with the allocated amounts." Nodding as he read the list, the man hurried off the collect the requested ingredients.

"What is this place?" Jilly asked.

"It's an Apothecary," Harry replied. "It's where most people come to buy their potion ingredients. Dad is actually the Potions professor at my school."

"Wow! Really?"

"What kinds of potions can you make with all these things?" Lily asked, looking interestedly up at Snape.

"Well," he said simply as he glanced around at the many different jars and herbs. "I am a Potions Master."

"Meaning…?" Lily pressed with a smile.

"Meaning I can brew you just about anything."

"What is it you said in my first class, Dad?" Harry asked with a laugh. Remembering, he turned to Lily and repeated in a very uncanny imitation of his father: "He can teach you how to, 'Bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – as long as you're not a dunderhead.'" He turned back to Snape with a grin.

But to his surprise, Snape was staring at him with a look of shock on his scruffy, borrowed face. "So you were listening," he murmured. And if Harry didn't know better, he would have thought that his father sounded… remorseful.

"I always listen," Harry replied uncertainly. Was it really that hard to believe?

"Then why did you always make so many mistakes?" Snape asked without heat. He sounded legitimately curious.

"Well… it's hard to get it right when you're always breathing down my neck and taking points for things that aren't my fault," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. Trying to lighten the mood, he gave his father a half smile and said, "I don't know if you're aware of this Dad, but you can be kind of scary."

Snape sighed, looking shamefaced. "Harry, I… You're right. I was not the best teacher and took every opportunity to mark you down, even when I knew it was your goal to become an Auror…"

Harry wasn't sure what to say, so after a moment he nudged his dad with his elbow. "It's ok," he murmured as he tried to give Snape an understanding smile. "I'd rather have you as my dad than be an Auror, anyway."

At that moment the Apothecarist returned with a large paper bag filled with Snape's requested ingredients. "Here you are, sir. That will be seventeen Galleons, eleven Sickles, and four Knuts." His father handed over the requested amount, but still seemed very serious and introspective as they left.

Stopping outside the door to the Apothecary, Snape suddenly stopped Harry with a gentle hand on his arm. "I'll tell you what," he murmured. "There's still some time in the summer left. We'll practice in my lab, and I'll personally train you in order to raise your grade to O.W.L. level. That way you don't have to give up your choice of career just because I was so unfair to you." He searched Harry's gaze as he looked down at him, genuinely seeming troubled about his past behavior. "Is that a deal?" he asked softly.

"You'd really do that for me?" Harry asked. He had to admit that the thought of not being an Auror had somewhat grieved him, but then everything at the Ministry had happened, and the loss of his preferred career had just been added onto the long list of things he'd lost in his life. Smiling up at his father, Harry nodded. "Ok then. Deal." And as they started walking again, his father put his arm around him.

Jillian, who had reached out to hold Harry's hand and had stayed quiet during the whole exchange suddenly asked, "What's an Auror?"

Harry laughed and Snape explained, "It's what we call our policemen."

"So that's what you'd like to do after school, Harry?" Lily asked. "Become an Auror?"

"Yeah… I can't really imagine doing anything else."

At that moment the small family came upon Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Jilly raced to the shop window with a gasp and pressed her palms against the glass, muttering a loud, "Ooooo!" There on display was one of Harry's most prized possessions: a Firebolt broomstick.

"A girl after my own heart!" Harry said with a laugh as he walked up next to Jillian and gazed at the beautiful sight behind the glass. "You have good taste, Jilly."

"You know, Harry owns one of those brooms," Snape mentioned offhandedly as he joined them at the window with his arm around Lily.

Jillian looked up at Harry in astonishment. "You do? Really?"

"Yeah… I use it when I'm playing Seeker at school for my Quidditch house team."

Her face scrunched up for a moment as she thought that over. "What's Quit-tich?"

Harry reached out and ruffled her hair. "Oh, do I have lots to teach you..." The family browsed the inside of the store while Harry proceeded to point out the different balls used during the game. With Snape's help, he also explained the rules and what all the different positions were. Snape even discovered a small replica play set in the far back corner, which came to life when Harry podded it with his wand.

"See?" he said, pointing to one of the two miniature players circling above the rest. "I play Seeker. Whichever Seeker catches the Golden Snitch ends the game, and wins their team one-hundred-and-fifty points."

"We'll have to bring you up to the school to watch a game," Snape murmured with a smile, seemingly just as pleased by Jilly's enthusiasm as Harry was.

"That's good," Lily murmured with a laugh, "Because I still don't get it."

They left the store with a smaller bag than the one from the Apothecary. This bag was filled with a miniature model of a Firebolt that zoomed around doing dives, spins, and loop-de-loops – a belated birthday gift for Jilly since Snape hadn't been there to celebrate her actual birthday, he said with a smile.

There was also a gift for Harry in the bag, which he refused to let him see.

"Your birthday is coming up soon," he reminded his son as they left the store. "We'll have to think about how you'd like to celebrate." Harry just nodded, and although he hadn't said anything about how tired he'd suddenly become, Snape noticed right away but said nothing. Instead he led them all to a table outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

The family sat down, and Harry couldn't help but perk up at the thought of one of Mr. Fortescue's spectacular sundaes. As a young boy exited the shop alongside his mother, licking a giant cone covered with huge mounds of cold sweetness, Jilly turned to Snape and hopefully asked, "Is it alright if we get some ice cream?"

"Of course," he chuckled. "We can't visit Diagon Alley without tasting one of Mr. Fortescue's confections. In fact," he said, pulling out a handful of money and handing it to Lily, "Why don't you order some for all of us to share? I'm going to be a moment with Harry. Just order whatever sounds good to you."

"Thank you, Severus!" Jilly cried as she grabbed her mother by the hand and started pulling her anxiously toward the door to the ice cream shop.

Snape turned to Harry with his eyebrow raised. Even with a face that was not his own, his father was able to look dangerous if he wanted to. "Don't think I won't take us directly home if I catch you trying to hide how you're feeling from me again," he muttered in his low, silky tone. "You need to realize that you now have an adult on your side who gives a damn about your personal wellbeing. No more of this trying to handle everything on your own."

Harry was a little taken aback and for a moment was completely at a loss for words. Although in the past he probably would have gotten angry and defensive at the accusation, he had to admit that being scolded by someone who really and truly cared about him was actually kind of… nice.

"Sorry Dad," he murmured sincerely. "It won't happen again."

Snape nodded, seemingly satisfied, and put him through his paces like he had that morning. Harry had just finished another nerve potion when the girls returned, a small cup of ice cream in each of their two hands.

"Well," Snape said with a chuckle. "What have we here?"

Jilly looked beside herself with excitement, and Lily a bit overwhelmed as she exclaimed, "Holy cow! I've never seen so many flavors… It was hard to narrow it down to just four."

They set the cups on the table and Jilly eagerly pointed to each one in turn, "Chocolate Chilli, Strawberry & Peanut Butter, Earl Grey & Lavender, and Butterbeer. I asked Mr. Fortescue if Butterbeer was like Root Beer, and he laughed and said it was better."

Lily handed everyone a small plastic spoon, and they all chose a cup and tasted a bite.

"Mmm! I really like Butterbeer!" Jilly said in an excited tone.

"Better than Root Beer?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Much!"

They ate in silence for a moment before Lily asked, "So are there a lot of – what did you call them, Harry? – muggle families that have magical people in them? Or is it in the genes, passed down through blood?" She took another bite of her ice cream. "This Earl Grey & Lavender is good…"

"So is this Strawberry & Peanut Butter," said Harry. "You know, one of my best friends is muggle-born, and she's the most talented witch I've ever seen. I dunno… It seems pretty random to me. What do you think, Dad?"

"I think it's time to switch ice creams," he said with a smile. "Everyone slide their cup to the left." Picking up Harry's Strawberry & Peanut Butter, he took a bite and made a noise of approval. "And yes, I think that as the pure-blood families die out, nature seems to be taking over to ensure the survival of the magical populace. There are many muggle-borns who have no idea they have magic in their blood until they get their Hogwarts letter."

"Was that how it was for you, Harry?" Lily asked as she took a bite of Snape's Chocolate Chilli. "Man, dark chocolate and chili… Who would have known?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a laugh. "And that's exactly how it was for me. How do you like the Earl Grey & Lavender, Jilly?"

"Mm-hmm!" Jilly responded with a mouthful. They all laughed.

"Ok, pass again!" Lily announced. It was her turn with the Strawberry & Peanut Butter. She took a bite and after a moment asked, "I wonder why I never a got a letter…?"

Snape, who now had the Butterbeer ice cream, put down his spoon and looked seriously at Lily. "Your name is in the school archives – I checked. Your letter was never sent because you were living in an orphanage."

Harry stopped with a spoonful of Earl Grey & Lavender halfway to his mouth, a look of confusion on his face. "Why should that matter?"

Snape's borrowed blue gaze slid to rest upon his son. "Can you think of no one else who grew up in an orphanage?" he asked quietly. "Someone who changed the history of the magical world for the rest of time?"

The truth hit Harry like a wrecking ball to the chest. "Voldemort…"

His father nodded, then turned back to Lily. "The dunderheads at the Ministry believed that the fact that Voldemort grew up at an orphanage may have played a role in his turning dark. It's complete and utter nonsense, but soon after he came to power, they mandated that any magical child with a similar background would not be allowed to attend Hogwarts."

Lily was silent for a long moment as she digested his words. Instead of being angry about the unjustness of her situation, she met Snape's gaze and asked, "Is it even legal to bring me into this world?"

"It doesn't matter," he answered simply. "I have every intention of giving you back the life that the idiots at the Ministry stole from you." Lily's eyes warmed as she gazed at Snape, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. Even though it was generally a new experience for him, Harry had never been more proud of his dad.

After the family had finished their ice creams, Snape decided it was time to visit Flourish and Blott's to purchase Harry's sixth year school books. The witch behind the counter almost jumped out of her skin when she turned around to find Snape – in all his blond, scruffy, blue-eyed glory – requesting Hogwarts books. Harry shared a look with Lily, and they laughed as the bookstore clerk stuttered and stammered, blushing to the roots of her hair when he spoke to her. Snape didn't seem to understand her befuddled behavior, and Harry could tell that he was getting more irritated with the woman by the minute.

Harry took pity on the flustered woman, and decided to take over. However, as he stepped up to the counter next to his father, he couldn't help but notice the same witches from The Leaky Cauldron earlier that day lurking in the fortune-telling section, once again staring at Snape, whispering and giggling excitedly amongst themselves. Harry had to admit that he was glad when Snape paid and they finally gathered their purchases to leave.

His father was still a little miffed at the woman's "Brainless behavior," as he called it, so Harry suggested they visit Fred and George's joke shop next (which, if Harry was completely honest with himself, would probably do nothing to improve his father's mood and may even worsen it further.) But he figured that the visit was worth a few good laughs for Jillian and Lily, at the very least. Not to mention, he was anxious to check on Mrs. Weasley, and was nearly exploding out of his skin to tell the Weasleys all about their two unexpected family members.

As they rounded the corner past Gringotts ("Wow!" Gasped Jilly, "It's like a crooked castle!"), Weasley's Wizard Wheezes came into view – or more precisely, the shop practically exploded onto the street in front of them. The group came to a sudden halt. Looking around at his family, Harry saw that the entire group had the same wide-eyed, Dobby-ish expression of disbelief and astonishment plastered across their features – even Snape.

"You are friends with the people who own this, Harry?" Lily asked, her eyes roaming the dazzling window display full of products that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked.

"Yeah… And you're related to them!" He said with a grin.

His father tore his gaze away from the garish display, his face grim as he more than likely considered the many nuisances that would be caused in his classroom because of these same products. Meeting Lily's gaze he murmured, "I think you're starting to understand why the thought of a Weasley and myself together is so unbelievable."

Lily reached out and slipped her arm around his waist. "So you're telling me a gift certificate for your birthday is out of the question?" She asked innocently.

"Only if you want to be murdered in your bed while you sleep," he growled down at her. Lily laughed, but Harry noticed that his father's arm tightened ever so slightly around her.

"Can we go in?" Jilly asked enthusiastically, bouncing up and down on her toes.

"If we must," Snape sighed. "C'mon, let's get this over with." And he walked to the entrance with Lily under his arm like a man walking toward the gallows on the day of his own execution.

The shop was crammed with people, and Harry had a difficult time even getting near the shelves. Jilly however, could easily fit in the spaces between people, and since she had hold of his hand, she dragged him to a solid wall of pink products. As they got closer Harry noticed a sign above: "New WonderWitch products! Love the skin you're in – and make him love it, too. Guaranteed!"

"Ooo, look! It's all pink!" Jilly said in an excited voice as she dragged him toward a space next to a gaggle of giggling teenage girls.

"Uhhh…" But it was too late. The girls all went silent, their many pairs of eyes landing on him and Jilly.

"What's this, Harry?" Jilly asked, completely oblivious to the girls' stares as she picked up and handed him a pink box. Harry tried not to blush as he looked down at the box in his hands.

"Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher," he murmured.

"What are pimples?"

"Something that you don't have to worry about for a long time," he answered, placing the box back on the shelf. He tried not to hear the whispers of the pack of girls beside them, but they may have well been shouting.

"Awww, he's taking care his kid sister… That's really sweet!"

"He's CUTE! Does he go to Hogwarts? His face seems kind of familiar."

"I don't know, but he can take care of ME any day of the week."

They giggled, and even though Harry didn't look like himself, he wanted nothing more than to fall through the floor until the girls had gone.

"You should have told me you needed pimple cream," Snape suddenly said from behind him, loud enough for the group of girls to hear as he picked up the box and turned it over in his hand. "Lily has some at home that you can use."

"Hey!" Lily smacked him on the shoulder.

The girls started giggling again. His father seemed to know exactly the torture he was inflicting upon Harry, and Harry glared up at him. But as Snape turned to glance over at the girls with a smirk, one of them suddenly stopped laughing and looked at him with a shocked look on her face.

"Oh my GOD!" She whispered frantically to her friends. "You guys, do you know who that IS?!"

But at that moment a face he recognized walked by, and he nudged his father and gave a slight nod over toward the familiar girl. Snape followed his gaze and, seeing who it was, nodded his understanding. "I'll be right back," he said as he quickly followed the girl to the back of the store, where she was about to disappear behind curtains marked with an "Employees Only" sign.

"Angelina!" he called.

She turned around but her gaze slid over him as she looked for a face she recognized. He hurried over to her side. "Angelina, it's me!" His voice dropped to a murmur. "Harry Potter."

"Uhhhh," She said as gave him a blank stare.

He hurried to explain, "I'm using a Glamour." She still looked at him suspiciously, so he sighed in exasperation and continued, "You used to be a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team before you graduated Hogwarts. You wore your lucky red sock on your left foot for every match. Before every game began, you would spin three times to the right and sing the—"

"Alright, alright! I believe you!" She said, waving her hands to stop him and looking frantically around to make sure no one had overheard. "Harry, what are you doing here? I heard about the attack on the Burrow—"

"I still have a life, Angelina! I'm not going to let Bellatrix Lestrange make me stop living it. Besides, we're taking precautions," he muttered. "Are the twins here? I wanted to check on Mrs. Weasley, see how she's doing."

"Yeah, you just caught them, actually. They're here gathering supplies, but are leaving in a few minutes." She glanced around again, then motioned for him to go through the curtains. "Come on," she whispered.

Behind the curtains were a set of stairs that led up into a tiny flat. He knocked and gave it only a few seconds before walking through the door. The twins were there, throwing clothes and other items into a large duffle bag.

"Sorry mate, this area is private." Fred said as he moved toward Harry, obviously ready to escort him back down the stairs. But then Angelina appeared behind Harry.

"Guys, its Harry!" she said.

"Harry…?" George asked in confusion. "Harry Potter?"

"I'm using a Glamour," he explained, but the twins still looked him up and down suspiciously. Fred glanced at Angelina over his shoulder.

"Are you sure it's—?"

"It's him," she assured him, and she went to sit on one of the small beds. The twins both looked at Harry appraisingly.

"Sorry, mate. After everything that happened at home, we can't be too careful."

Harry completely understood. "How is your mum? Is she alright?"

"She had to go to St. Mungo's for some blood replenishing potions, but they are releasing her later today. Dad says she'll have the scars for the rest of her life, but at least she's alive." Fred said, and although his words were grateful, he still had an angry look on his face when he mentioned the scars.

"How about you?" George asked. "Are you ok? Snape took off with you so quick after everything happened, we were all kind of worried…" His words hung in the air between them. It was obvious what he meant: They were all kind of worried that he was safe with Snape. But Harry was in a much better place today than he had been yesterday, and he felt no anger at his friend's question.

"Yeah, I'm good. Snape and I… Well…" How do I explain this?

"You called him 'Dad'…" One of the twins murmured, and Angelina's eyes widened in shock, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"Well," Harry admitted, "He kinda… Is. It's complicated…" The group stood in silence for a very long, uncomfortable moment.

"Does he treat you well?" George suddenly asked.

"Yes. He takes better care of me than anyone ever has."

"Are you happy?" Fred questioned.

"Yeah... I am."

"Then it doesn't matter," the twins said in unison.

Fred stepped up and hugged him like he would a little brother. "We're happy for you, mate."

"And don't worry, we're all in the Order," Angelina piped up. "We won't blow Snape's cover and tell anyone."

"Thanks," Harry murmured, smiling at his friends.

"Ron's going to have kittens when he finds out," George murmured with an evil grin on his face. "You haven't told him, yeah?"

"No, you three are the only ones that know."

"Why don't you come for dinner tonight? Everyone'd love to see you. Dumbledore is planning a feast to celebrate mum getting out of the hospital."

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Oh, we're staying at Hogwarts until we can figure out where to go. Dumbledore says it's not safe at the Burrow right now, and wants us to go underground until he can figure something out."

"Wow…" Harry muttered, thinking of the impenetrable wards that Snape had set up on both Spinner's End and Lily's apartment, and determined to mention the Weasley's current situation to his father. But the others were looking at him expectantly, waiting on an answer about dinner. "Oh… yeah! We'll be there! Also…"

Although he had been excited to break the news to the twins, he suddenly wasn't sure how much he should say about Lily and Jillian. The fact that they were family, or the fact that Snape was dating said member of that family was sure to open a can of worms that Harry didn't want to get tangled in at the moment. It was all too complicated for him to try and explain, so he decided to just say nothing for the moment.

"Uh… Is it alright if we bring a couple of guests?"

"So how do you like the store, Harry?" Fred asked as he bent down next to his brother and started shoving clothes and things into the duffel bag once again.

"It's brilliant!" Harry exclaimed appreciatively. "We all need more laughter in our lives right now, with what's been happening with Voldemort. I'll definitely be a regular customer when I'm not at Hogwarts–"

"Don't think that we haven't forgotten that you gave us our start, Harry. You don't pay here, alright?" George said seriously.

"Yes, take anything you want," Fred continued. "We'll make sure our employees know that. In fact…" he said, taking an arm load of subdued-looking products from the end of the bed and handing them to Harry.

"But… I can't take these!" Harry exclaimed.

"Of course you can," Fred said, waiving away his concern.

"Just remember to tell people where you got them, if they ask." George stated.

"Wow… Well… Thanks. What is all this stuff, anyway?" Harry asked. Angelina smiled and handed him a large, handled paper bag marked with the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes logo, and Harry promptly filled it nearly to the top with the things he'd been given.

"Funny how it happened really," explained George. "Even with You-Know-Who on the rise, you would be amazed at how many people are woefully inadequate at Defense Against the Dark Arts – even the simplest of things like Shield Charms."

"So we thought Shield Hats would be a bit of a laugh, you know? Challenge your mate to jinx you while you're wearing it and laugh at his expression when it just bounces off."

"But the Ministry bought over five-hundred for their staff, and we're still getting huge orders!"

"So we decided to expand into Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves… They won't help much against the Unforgivables, but for minor or moderate curses, they'll do the trick."

"And then we decided that we'd expand into the whole range of Defense Against the Dark Arts products because they were such hot sellers. We can barely keep them on the shelves!"

"Check this out," said Fred, picking up one of the small drawstring bags he'd given Harry. "Peruvian Darkness Powder. Just a pinch will instantly turn an entire area dark so that you can make a hasty getaway if you run into some nefarious characters."

"And these are cool, look!" Said George, tossing another small box to his twin so that Fred could show Harry. "Decoy Detonators. You just drop one on the sly and it will run off and make a bunch of noise out of sight. It's quite the little diversion if you ever need one."

"Impressive!" Harry murmured, quite in awe of his friends. "No wonder Umbridge hated you two so much."

Angelina and the twins laughed. "She's in here all the time, you know," Angelina stated. "Always trying to catch them doing something illegal, threatening to take away their selling permits and things."

"What?" Harry gasped. "She's not in Azkaban?"

"No… She was able to slip back into the Ministry after Fudge's resignation, and Scrimgeour has, and I quote, 'Bigger problems to deal with.'"

Harry's eyes narrowed and his fists clenched at his sides. "Figures," he spat. "It might be a new administration, but it's still the same old crooked and corrupt tosh."

"All's not lost though, Harry!" George declared with a snicker. "Last time she was here snooping around, she wanted to 'test' the Wrinkle Repair in our Matured WonderWitch line–"

"To 'make sure' it was all-natural and non-toxic, like the package says –" interrupted Fred.

"But what she didn't realize was that we replaced her sample with a bit of dragon dung from Charlie's herd in Romania–"

"Which is still all-natural and non-toxic, if you think about it."

Harry burst out laughing at that, and George continued through his own snorts of laughter, "She rubbed it in quite thoroughly, and walked around muttering that it actually did seem to soften her skin."

"She liked it so much that we sent her an entire box of the stuff," Fred said with tears of mirth streaming down his face.

"So whether or not she ever figures it out, it's still a win-win either way," George finished hysterically. Harry's anger was forgotten for the moment, and he had a hard time catching his breath because he was laughing so hard.

"Merlin's beard, that's the best prank you've ever pulled!" He gasped. "Even Snape will appreciate that one!"

"Good ol' Professor Snape..." Muttered George, wiping away the tears in his eyes with a sigh. "You really seem to have changed him, Harry. I haven't seen so much warm and fuzzy since Mum and Ginny oozed it all over us when the first litter of Pygmy Puffs was born."

"The professor will be there tonight, right?" Fred asked casually with a quick glance at his brother.

"Oh yeah, he's got… uh… things he wants to talk to everyone about."

"Perfect! We're definitely looking forward to it," said Fred with a sly half smile on his face that Harry couldn't help but be suspicious of. Fred quickly changed the subject before he could ask any more questions.

After saying his goodbyes and promising to be at the castle later, Harry was heading back down the stairs, laden with his bag full of Defense Against the Dark Arts merchandise. It took him a few moments to find his family in the teeming crowd – no longer in the WonderWitch section, thankfully. Instead they were crowded around a large cage, the inside of which was crawling with little balls of fur that were currently rolling around, squeaking, and purring at the edge of the cage because of the many different fingers stuck through the bars, scratching them behind the ears. A large sign hanging above announced them to be the aforementioned Pygmy Puffs.

Harry pushed himself through the crowd. As he drew nearer he saw that Jillian and Lily were both at the bars of the cage, playing with the fluffy little creatures. His father, who was the only male in the vicinity of the Pygmy Puff cage and was surrounded by a sea of estrogen, was tolerating all the squeals of delight from the females around him – but only just. He looked to be clenching his jaw hard enough to break more than a few teeth, and Harry saw his father roll his eyes more than once at the females around him.

As he got closer, Harry heard Jillian exclaim to Snape as she scratched a purring purple puff, "They're so cute – like tiny kittens rolled in cotton candy!"

Snape sighed as rolled his eyes once again, then pinched the bridge of his nose before sighing as he responded, "They are fairly cuddly, yes."

Harry couldn't have asked for a more perfect setup. Time for some revenge.

"Oh here you are!" He announced loudly as he sidled up next to his father. Every face gathered around the cage turned to look at him. "Those Pygmy Puffs are ad-OR-able. You know Dad, they'd go perfect with your fluffy pink slippers at home. You should get one!" Harry tried to plaster an innocent-looking smile on his lips as giggles erupted all around them. But the look of absolute horror on his father's face did him in, and he burst out laughing.

"Let's go," Snape quickly instructed in an irritated tone, and he turned and stalked darkly away. Laughing as he followed his family, Harry noticed that the group of girls from the WonderWitch display were gathered around the Pygmy Puff cage, all keenly watching his father as he walked away. But then Lily nudged him with her elbow, winking and giving him a thumbs up as she laughed, and he paid the girls no more attention as he left the store with his family.

Lily, Jillian, and Harry regrouped with Snape, who was skulking on the outside of the store waiting for them. "If I never have to set foot in that infernal place again, I can die a happy man," his father grumbled as they approached him. Snape had loved it about as much as Harry thought he would.

Even with everything that has happened, some things never change. The thought was strangely comforting in its predictability.

His father mock-glared down at Harry as the family continued to stroll down the Alley. "And don't think that you can get away with such cheek without repercussions, young man."

"Funny, it kind of feels like I just got away with it."

"Yes, well… I'll get my revenge," His father groused quietly. Harry just laughed. "So how is Mrs. Weasley?"

"She's good, thank Merlin," Harry answered. "I guess she spent the night at St. Mungo's – they had to give her some blood replenishing potions and wanted to keep an eye on her. But they are releasing her later today. Everyone is at Hogwarts because Dumbledore doesn't trust the wards back at the Burrow." Harry glanced up at Snape. "You've never had any problems with your wards, right? Do you think you could–?"

"Of course, Harry," Snape muttered seriously, all traces of irritation suddenly gone. "Your friends could have died fighting next to you. Of course I'll speak to Dumbledore."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks, Dad. It means a lot after everything they've done for me over the years. I'd hate for them to be homeless on my account… Oh, and they've invited us to dinner at the castle tonight." He glanced over at Lily and Jillian, who had wandered over to the window of the Magical Menagerie. "All of us."

His father seemed to stiffen ever so slightly, and for some reason the vision of the young, bullied teenage Snape that he'd seen in the Pensieve flashed through his mind. Harry stopped his dad with a hand on his arm and looked earnestly up at him.

"It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks. You have us now – all of us. And I know Lily and Jillian would agree with me when I say that we are incrediblylucky to have YOU." His father seemed strangely uncertain as he looked down at him, and Harry murmured, "I couldn't have chosen a better dad… Even if I was given the option, I wouldn't change anything." As Harry's words sunk in, Snape's countenance seemed to get lighter. Even though he looked slightly uncomfortable at the unexpected direction the conversation had taken, Harry was happy to see a small, considering smile appear on his father's lips.

Not needing an answer and not wanting to further embarrass Snape, Harry turned and looked toward Lily and Jillian. He laughed when they started walking towards the girls and he heard his father mutter, "Oh no… Not another round of fuzzy little animals. My stomach just can't handle anymore cuteness." But when they reached the large front window, his father grudgingly allowed Jilly to pull him into the cramped, noisy little store and tolerated (albeit somewhat impatiently) her excitement as she pointed out all of the magical animals.

Looking immensely relieved as they left the raucous, smelly little creatures behind, Snape still had Jillian's hand in his own as he turned to Lily and offhandedly mentioned, "We've been invited to dinner at the school this evening."

"Really?!" Lily squealed, channeling her five-year-old daughter's excitement.

"Indeed," Snape continued. "The Weasleys will also be there."

Lily stopped in her tracks, suddenly looking nervous as she murmured, "Oh my gooodness… Wow… I…" She glanced back and forth between Snape and Harry. "Do you– I mean, they have no idea Jilly and I even exist. Do you think this is the right time, with everything that happened with Mrs. Weasley? I don't want to shock her too much when she's recovering –"

"Mrs. Weasley is fine Lily, I promise," His father stated firmly. "The wizarding community is able to heal themselves at a much faster rate than muggles. Remember my rib?"

Lily's eyes widened momentarily as she stared at him. "So that's how-!"But after a moment she looked off into the distance and went back to nibbling her bottom lip. "Do you… Do you think they'll… like us?"

It was Harry's turn to speak up. "Are you kidding? I was just some kid they met at King's Cross Station, and they practically adopted me. The Weasleys are some of the nicest people I've ever known – they're going to love you guys!"

She studied Harry for a moment, but then a small smile broke out across her face. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin in a confident manner. "Ok," she said, relaxing into a bigger smile, "Let's do it!"

Placing his arm around her, Snape tucked her into his side and gave her a quick kiss. "There is still a little time before dinner, and there's one last place I'd like to go before we leave…" he said mysteriously.

Although it took Harry a moment to realize where they were going as he'd only stepped foot in the shop once when he was eleven, a huge grin broke out upon his face the moment he understood.

"Where are we headed?" Lily asked, seeing the excitement appear on Harry's face.

"You'll see," he said evasively, and even Jilly perked up in curious interest.

A few minutes later they were standing outside the narrow and shabby shop. It definitely looked its age, which if the sign above was to be believed, had been one of the first wizarding shops to open in London. In peeling gold letters the sign announced, "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. – Wands sold in this fine establishment since 87 A.D." A single wand lay upon a faded purple cushion in the dusty window display, and Jilly pressed her palms against the glass with a hushed, "Ooooo!"

"382 B.C.?" Lily gasped. "Wow… they must really know their stuff!"

"Oh, he does!" Harry announced. "Most consider Mr. Ollivander to be the world's best wandmaker. People even come from as far away as the Americas to purchase one of his wands."

She gave a small whistle of appreciation, then turned curiously to his father. "Are you buying another wand?"

"Yes," Snape replied simply. "Yours."

Lily's eyes went very wide, and Harry didn't miss the fact that she nervously grasped and interlaced his father's fingers with her own. However, she didn't hesitate when Harry opened the door for her. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the store when the family stepped inside, and even Jillian seemed to sense the ageless, secretive magic that dwelt there. They all went very quiet and still, as if they were in an ancient, holy library and were trying to preserve its hallowed tranquility. The little shop had rows upon rows of bookshelves piled with thousands of thin, narrow boxes stacked neatly up to the ceiling.

"Good afternoon," said a low voice from the shadows, and the entire family jumped, even Snape. A man as ancient as his shop stood before them, his skin soft like a wrinkled bit of old parchment and his pale eyes like round moons reflecting back at them in the gloom of the shop. Just like the first time he'd seen him, Ollivander reminded Harry of a very wise old owl.

Snape stepped forward. "Hello, Mr. Ollivander. We are here for my–"

But Mr. Ollivander looked around Snape's borrowed body, his piercing gaze settling kindly on Lily. "Come forward, my dear. You don't need to hide." Snape immediately stepped back as Lily took a hesitant step forward. Lily's steps became more confident the closer she came to Mr. Ollivander and his knowing, silvery moon eyes shone with curiosity.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander as he inspected her. "Yes… Yes, I see. Very interesting. Which is your wand-arm, Miss…?"

"You can call me Lily," she said softly with a smile. "And… Well, I'm right-handed, if that helps."

"Lily," he repeated with a gentle smile. "Hold out your right arm for me, please. A little higher. That's it." He began measuring from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and around her head. "Mm-hmm," he said afterwards, as if answering an unspoken question that only he could hear. "Indeed. I see. How interesting… Very well." And with a quick flick of his wand, a few boxes flew from the shelves behind him and piled themselves neatly at his feet.

"Try this for me, Lily," he said, opening the first box and handing her a wand. "Alder and Dragon Heartstring. 10 ¾ inches, a bit unyielding, but perfect for the helpful, considerate types such as yourself. Just give it a wave, my dear."

Lily, looking as if she felt rather foolish, did as he asked. Boxes down at the end of the nearest aisle exploded off the shelves, the wands and wrappings from inside clattering to the floor. Mr. Ollivander immediately snatched it out of her hand. "Nope, definitely not!"

He tried again with the next box, explaining, "Ash and Phoenix Feather. 9 inches. A bit whippier than the last. This wand is especially good for the stubbornly courageous. Now, again if you please, my dear." This time when Lily gently waived the wand, Mr. Ollivander's hair began to grow – as did his nose hair. "Oh my… That won't do," Mr. Ollivander murmured calmly as his nose hair grew quickly past his lips. The hair upon his head was growing so long that Harry suspected that Dumbledore – if he could see – would have been quite jealous.

Harry and Jillian couldn't help themselves, and immediately burst out laughing as Snape hurried forward with a quickly murmured, "Finite," returning his hair to its proper length. Harry could tell that although he was attempting to keep a straight face, he was also trying very hard not to laugh.

"Well Lily, you are proving to be a difficult case. It's alright, not to worry," he quickly assured her when she made to profusely apologize. "I've always enjoyed a challenge."

The next wand – Cedar and Unicorn Hair, 12 ½ inches, somewhat springy and made specifically for those with strength of character and unusual loyalty – created a lovely little bird which sprang from the end of the wand and promptly landed on Mr. Ollivander's shoulder, singing merrily away.

"This could be the one, my dear!" Mr. Ollivander happily announced. But just then the bird gave a mighty, staining, heaving little grunting sound, pooped on his shoulder, and promptly exploded with an eruption of feathers. "Or not," Mr. Ollivander grumbled. Lily had to bite down hard on her bottom lip to keep from laughing as she wiped the poo away with her sleeve, giving Mr. Ollivander an apologetic smile. Poor Jilly looked horrified at her mother, as well as at Harry and Snape (who was laughing in earnest now), until they quickly explained that the bird was only a charm and wasn't real.

Mr. Ollivander then handed Lily another wand and said, "As unaccustomed as I am to having exploding birds on my shoulder, at least I know that we are headed in the right direction. Try this: Dogwood and Unicorn Hair, 11 ½ inches, moderately swooshy," he ended without further explanation, and he took a few steps back.

Lily took a moment to examine the Dogwood wand. "I like this one, Mr. Ollivander. It feels… different than the others. Like I could…" And with a gentle swish of the wand, an entire cluster of dainty, vibrant butterflies erupted from the end. They fluttered as a group around Mr. Ollivander, then soared across the room toward the rest of the family. Jilly giggled as a butterfly landed on the tip of her outstretched finger, but Snape didn't seem very enthusiastic when the rest landed on him. His father stood there silently as the butterflies on his head, shoulders, and chest, gently opened and closed their wings in contentment, and the others couldn't help but laugh at his glowering expression – even Mr. Ollivander.

Harry held his breath as he waited for something to go wrong, but long moments passed and nothing did. His father scowled at the butterfly from Jilly's finger as it fluttered up to land on the tip of his nose.

"I'd give all my gold in Gringotts for a camera right now," Harry murmured with a smirk, and Snape's face darkened even further.

"Oh very good, Lily!" Mr. Ollivander cried, clapping his hands. "I knew this would be the wand for you! Dogwood is one of my personal favorites, as it is quirky and mischievous – which if you don't mind me saying, my dear, you also seem to be." He continued with a warm smile, "These wands have very playful natures and always insist upon clever owners that can provide them with excitement and fun. Paired with Unicorn Hair, this wand will be especially good at healing work as well as producing dazzling enchantments – as you can obviously see."

"Healing work?" Lily murmured with a gasp.

"Indeed," Mr. Ollivander responded. "I shall expect delightful things from you and this wand, Lily. Very delightful things."

Mr. Ollivander banished the butterflies covering Snape with a flick of his wand ("Aww!" Jilly cried in disappointment), then slipped the Dogwood wand back into its cushioned box and into a small paper bag. When Snape had paid and everyone had thanked him, Mr. Ollivander waved them out of the store and called, "I will see you in a few years when it is Miss Jillian's turn for her own wand." Any sadness that the girl had in her eyes over the disappearance of the little butterflies immediately disappeared, and she waved once more through the front window at Mr. Ollivander.

Lily had a huge grin on her face as they walked away. "May I… carry it?" she asked Snape, who was holding the bag that the wandmaker had given to them.

"Of course," he said. And he immediately stopped and handed the rest of their purchase to Jilly with a smile. He then pulled the wand from its narrow box.

"Do the butterflies again, Mum!" Jillian cried as she hopped up and down beside her.

"Jilly-Bean, I'm not even sure how I–"

At that moment, a dazzlingly bright flash and thick puffs of purple smoke billowed around them, blinding the entire group for long seconds. It was as Harry was blinking away the spots from his vision that he heard a voice that was as welcome as nails against a chalkboard.

"Sir! Sir! Mr. Pitt, isn't it? Mr. Pitt, would you mind answering a few questions for The Daily Prophet?" Rita Skeeter called out in rapid fire succession. Her magenta robes perfectly matched her winged, jeweled spectacles, and her platinum blond hair was once again styled in elaborate, girlish ringlets. Jilly had dropped their bags and was trying to gather the purchases that had scattered across the ground. Harry dropped to his knees to help her, glaring up at the contemptible woman the entire time.

"Mr. Pitt!" The vile reporter shouted, stepping over Harry and Jillian to get close to his father. She had her crocodile handbag clutched in her crimson-taloned fingers, the acid green quill scribbled madly away on a roll of parchment in midair above her shoulder. "You are known as a muggle movie star from America, isn't that correct? How long have you been hiding the fact that you are secretly a wizard?"

"I – What?" His father snapped as he lifted Jilly off the ground and, with a quick wave of his wand, their purchases all jumped back inside the bags. Harry picked them up as he rose protectively in front of Lily and Jillian, gripping his wand within his pocket and wanting nothing more than to throw a few well-aimed hexes at the hated woman.

"Isn't it true that you have never made an appearance within the wizarding community in either country before today? What is it you're trying to hide?" Another flash blinded the family as cloying purple smoke unfurled into the air, and Harry noticed for the first time that there was an actual photographer dancing around the family taking pictures.

"Get out of my way," Snape growled as he pushed the man aside, ushering his family before him as he tried to hurry them in the opposite direction down the Alley. Harry noticed that there was a crowd gathering around trying to see what all the commotion was about, and he cringed as he saw both the group of teenage girls and the two witches from the Leaky Cauldron.

"It's most unusual for someone as famous as yourself to appear so suddenly within our world. Are you running away from something in your past, Mr. Pitt? Is your family aware of anything you might not want to become public knowle–"

His father whipped around with his wand drawn, pushing the tip threateningly into the underside of Rita's heavily-set jaw. "If you come anywhere near my family," his father murmured in his dangerously low, silky tone, "I will make sure that the only part of you that is ever found is one stubby, red-clawed finger – detached fromyour hand – so that the world will know that it's once and for all rid of your despicable presence and horrendous reporting."

Rita's eyes widened in fear, and Snape stared down at her for a long, uncomfortable moment before spinning away in the other direction, shepherding the family away.

As the reporter realized that her life was not in immediate danger, an oily smile appeared upon her cherry lips. "Take that down," she muttered up at the quill above her shoulder, then turned and snapped at the photographer, "Tell me you got pictures of that?!" The photographer nodded, and Rita called out to Snape in a smug, sycophantic tone, "Thank you for your time, Mr. Pitt." She then turned to the gathering crowd and asked if anyone who witnessed the altercation would like to give a statement for her story, and both the group of teenagers and the older witches hurried to her side.

"I believe that's our que for dinner," his father murmured darkly, and he ushered them all into a dark nook between stores. "Hold tight," he said, and then he spun on the spot and apparated them to the gates outside Hogwarts.

Arriving with a loud crack, Snape reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulder to keep him from falling flat onto his face. But as he did so they heard a loud gasp only a few feet away. Turning slowly toward the sound, Harry saw that the entire Weasley clan – along with Hermione, who was the one that had gasped – were standing there looking at the strangers in horror. It was clear that they had just apparated there a moment before after collecting Mrs. Weasley from St. Mungo's.

The Weasleys immediately moved to draw their wands on the strangers, which in turn prompted his father to whip out his own wand from his sleeve pocket. But before any spells could be uttered, Hermione threw herself between the two families.

"STOP!" she cried, glancing over her shoulder with an extremely confused look on her face. Her wide eyes settled first on Snape – on whom they lingered for a long moment – before they flicked over to examine Harry. "That's Brad Pitt and the kid from 'Free Willy'…" she explained to the Weasleys, sounding baffled and somewhat mystified before she shook her head and continued, "They're American and they're… uh… famous in the muggle world."

"What in the bloody hell is 'Free Willy'?" George snorted.

"Must be some kind of naughty movie. Those Yanks are complete nutters…" Fred sniggered.

"Wait a minute!" George cried. "Hermione, how do YOU know about naughty–?"

"Are you having a laugh?"Harry suddenly yelled with incredulity. "You were having a conversation with me not even two hours ago!"

"When did we meet an American porn star? I should remember something like that!" George whispered loudly.

"Tuh, shut up, you loon,"Fred scoffed. He hesitantly called out, "Harry, is that you?"

"Obviously, you toss pot!" Harry replied, although he was unable to completely suppress a snigger of amusement. Ginny, who was standing directly behind the twins, rolled her eyes and promptly reached out to slap them both upside the head.

"Ouch,"said George as he rubbed the back of his skull. But then: "You're right, Sis. We completely threw a spanner in the works– Ouch! What the–?!"

This time it was Mrs. Weasley that had slapped them as she cried, "Language!"

"Ok, ok! Sorry!" Fred yelled as the twins scuttled out reach of both Ginny and their mother.

Hermione turned to Harry and his family in shock. "But Harry, what are you doing impersonating movie stars? No George, they are not porn stars!" She sternly said to the twins, who were whispering amongst themselves behind her.

"We didn't know these covers were that well known!" He cried. "It's not like Severus and I get out to the muggle theatre much!"

Ron was laughing hysterically now. "How–how did you even know–who to make–yourselves look like?" He gasped through tears of mirth.

"Um… It's a long story," Harry muttered, glancing sideways at Lily and Jillian.

"If it's alright with all of you," snapped Snape with an exasperated huff and a glare at Lily, "I believe it's time to cease and desist with this stupidity." And with that he performed the counter charm to both his and Harry's Glamours.

But as the charms melted away and their regular appearances materialized, one of the twins said, "You should leave it, Professor. It makes you look… approachable."

"Positively friendly, I'd say."

"Or just downright sexy…" Ginny muttered behind her brothers, and by her face Harry couldn't tell if she was pleased or disgruntled by the thought. The entire assembly burst out laughing, and Harry's father looked murderously around at the lot of them.

Mrs. Weasley was the first to come to her senses. "Alright, alright…" she said to her family, "That's enough now." And then she looked to Lily and Jillian with a friendly smile on her face and warmly asked, "Who are these two beautiful ladies?"

Before they could form an appropriate reply, Jilly ran to Mrs. Weasley and announced, "Hi, my name is Jilly-Bean and me and my mum are part of the Weasley family!"

The entire crowd suddenly went very silent and still. Lily gave a small inhalation and muttered, "Oh my God… These are the Weasleys, aren't they?" Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes and nodded.

The families continued to silently stare at one another in shock when suddenly Lily reached out and grasped first Harry's hand, and then his father's. Squaring her shoulders she dragged them both over to Mrs. Weasley. At the expression on his father's face, Harry almost burst out laughing again – the poor man looked as if he couldn't decide if he wanted to proudly declare his love for the woman, or hex her because of the humiliation she was causing.

Coming to a halt directly behind her smiling daughter, Lily held out her hand to Mrs. Weasley and unabashedly announced, "Hi. I'm Lily Prewett. My father was Phillip Prewett, and I think he was your cousin."

Mrs. Weasley gaped at her in shock for a moment, but then an enormous smile alighted her features. She squealed in excitement, "Holy Merlin's beard! OH MY GOD!" And ignoring Lily's outstretched hand, she threw her arms around the younger woman in a tight hug. Refusing to let go of her newfound family member, Mrs. Weasley reached an arm out for Jillian, and the little girl joined them in the embrace.

The older women were both crying and laughing through their tears, and Harry's smile broadened to the point that his cheeks hurt. He knew better than anyone what it felt like to suddenly have a family after being alone for so long, and he couldn't have been happier for all involved.

Finally pulling back and dabbing at her eyes, Mrs. Weasley held Lily at arm's length and warmly examined her. "There's no question you are Phillip's daughter. You're a perfect blend of him and Marjorie – she was gorgeous just like you. I was at their wedding, you know. But I was only a third year, still attending Hogwarts then… I never knew they had a daughter! Phillip was a squib – he couldn't perform magic – and he got a job in the muggle world and moved away, I wasn't sure where, and after mother died I didn't know how to reach him. We lost touch and I didn't even know of his and Marjorie's deaths until a few years ago, I'm so sorry for your loss and for leaving you alone!" Mr. Weasley squeezed his wife gently by the shoulder, and she glanced at him before saying, "I'm rambling..." She took a deep breath and continued in a quiet voice, "I just… I never knew you existed."

Lily gave her a watery smile. "I never really knew you existed, either. Well… I'd seen your name on paper, but…" She gazed lovingly over at Snape. "If it wasn't for Severus, I never would have known about any of this. About any of you."

"Oh, Severus…" Mrs. Weasley murmured as her gaze moved to his father, her eyes filling with tears again. Suddenly she launched herself onto him, clinging to his neck as she wailed, "Thank you, Severus!"

Alarmed and looking as if he was afraid the terrifying potions master might eat his wife, Mr. Weasley tried to pry her off. But the more he tried to pull Mrs. Weasley away, the harder she clung to Snape's neck.

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing. He wasn't sure who looked more horrified by the sudden turn of events – Mr. Weasley or his father.

Snape reached up and awkwardly patted Mrs. Weasley on the back. She seemed to calm down and moments later, finally released him. It didn't escape Harry's notice how Snape immediately scuttled backwards, using Lily as a human shield as he placed her between himself and the Weasley matriarch. Snape glanced over at Harry and when their eyes met, Harry mouthed the word, 'Coward.' Snape vigorously nodded, not even bothering to deny the accusation, and Harry had to cover a snort of amusement with a bogus sneeze.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Weasley said tearfully. "It's just that after everything that happened yesterday…"

"You don't have to explain," Lily spoke kindly, talking over Snape and what would surely have been a snarky comment. "We were going to tell you at dinner instead of just springing it on you like this. I'm so sorry, it must be quite a shock."

"Are you kidding?" Ginny cried. "We have more girls in the family now! It's better than Christmas!" Her clear excitement broke the ice, and as the family laughed while crowding around them, Mrs. Weasley introduced everyone in turn. Harry was thrilled to see that every single one of them hugged Jillian and Lily as they were introduced, all seeming to open their hearts without question – just as Harry had known they would.

"You did good, Dad," Harry muttered. His father was watching the procession without a smile, but the warmth in his eyes was there all the same. He just grunted at Harry's approving words, but Harry could tell that he was pleased.

The sun was beginning to set in a brilliantly vibrant sky after all the introductions were made. Mrs. Weasley called out to the lot of them, "Let's all go up to dinner." She then took Lily's arm and tucked it in the crook of her own, still questioning her younger cousin about her life. The women talked and laughed easily together.

Harry and Snape took their place behind the family as the group opened the gates and began walking up the hill. But they had taken barely two steps before Lily glanced over her shoulder and, smiling, reached out to Snape with her other hand. His father hesitated for half a heartbeat, but allowed Lily to entwine their fingers together as he joined her. Lily then continued talking with Mrs. Weasley as if nothing had happened.

Ron and Hermione immediately took his father's place beside Harry, one on either side.

"Oh Harry, this is wonderful!" Hermione murmured excitedly. "How in the world did Professor Snape find her? For her name to be Lily of all things, especially right after you had come to stay…"

Ron glanced at Snape and Lily holding hands, "And… is he… dating her?"

"Yeah, he is. I think he's more shocked about it than anyone else. But they're really good together – she keeps him in line," Harry said with a smile. "And I guess it was technically me that found her," he explained. "Man, there's so much I haven't told you guys…" And he proceeded to explain everything – the fight with the Dursleys and how Snape had come to his rescue (although he left out the part about Dudley); staying at Spinner's End and accidentally injuring Snape's rib; saving Jillian and meeting Lily while wandering aimlessly around town ("Oh Harry, you're so lucky! You could have been found by Death Eaters!" Hermione had gasped); how Lily had helped his father and how the meeting had prompted Snape to admit that he'd been friends with Harry's mother (both of his friends had gasped in shock at this pronouncement); and finally, the reason he had been so depressed and angry while staying with the Weasleys.

"I'm really sorry, Ron…" Harry said with as much sincerity as he could muster. "After everything that happened, I felt like… like I had lost a family all over again. I was just… so..."

"Don't worry about it, mate. I understand."

Hermione smiled, obviously pleased for what he and Snape had unexpectedly found together. "Professor Snape seems just as happy as you about all this. Do you think he'll stop being a spy and–?"

But her question was cut off by Lily's gasp and Jillian's cry of, "Wow!" The castle had just come into view, the stone glowing in the vivid orange and pinks of the setting sun. The lake was still and glassy so that it reflected the surrounding mountains and setting sun just like a mirror, making it look as if Heaven and Earth had collided in one magnificent, picturesque Scottish loch.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" They heard from the giant front doors of the castle, and a grin broke out across Harry's face as Dumbledore ambled down the steps towards them.

"Mum, is that Merlin from my stories?" Jilly gasped, and everyone but Snape laughed.

"Don't encourage him," Snape grumbled. "He already thinks too highly of himself."

"Thank you, Severus. I was beginning to wonder why I had such a difficult time fitting my head through my office door this morning," Dumbledore said with an amused smile as he approached the group. He turned to Mrs. Weasley saying, "Molly, my dear… I'm so thankful to see you on your feet and looking none the worse for wear. You had us all very worried."

"Thank you, Albus. That… woman… won't ever come between me and my children again," Mrs. Weasley replied in a very Snape-like growl, and goosebumps broke out on Harry's flesh. There was something in her tone that made Harry very glad that he was a friend of the Weasleys instead of a foe. As terrifying as Bellatrix could be, he had a feeling that it was nothing compared to a protective and very pissed off Mrs. Weasley.

Dumbledore smiled, but instead of the warmth of moments ago, the look was rather chilling. "Indeed, Molly. It is a very foolish individual that would cross a mother bear protecting her cubs. Although I cannot promise it will not happen again, I can tell you that next time, we shall be ready." The goosebumps on Harry's skin were joined by a prickling of the back of his neck, and once again Harry was thankful that he would never be on the receiving end of the combined wrath of Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley.

The headmaster's face cleared and the warmth returned as a smile spread across his lips. He gazed down at Jilly before bending to her level and saying, "Well hello there! You must be the one who thought I was Merlin. I assure you, my dear – I'm much better looking than he ever was. My nose is far more crooked, see?" And he turned his head to the side in order to show off its brilliantly bent length.

Jilly giggled as she reached out and ran her tiny fingers over the prominent bump in the middle. "You have a really pretty nose," she murmured with a smile. "Will I get a bump like yours someday?"

"Only if you're lucky," the headmaster replied with a wink. Then as if he just remembered, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, brightly colored foil package from his pocket. "I have a taste for muggle candy, and I just discovered a wonderful little treat not long ago. Would you like a Ring Pop, Jilly?"

"My favorite! Thank you!" The little girl cried. She took the sweet gratefully then asked with a coy smile, "And how did you know my name?"

"Magic," Dumbledore murmured, and he winked at her. Straightening up, the headmaster smiled at her mother before taking her hand in his own and saying, "Hello Lily. It is such a pleasure to meet the woman that has unlocked the affection of our austere potions master." Snape made a sputtering, choking sound and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily for a few moments. But he sobered as he continued, "It hurts my heart that you were not brought to Hogwarts as a child. But I hope that you feel as comfortable here as if you had been. Welcome, my dear."

"Thank you so much, Professor Dumbledore–"

"Oh no, please call me Albus. One of the perks of never attending Hogwarts is that you don't have to worry about calling me 'Professor'," he said with a conspiratorial wink. "Now… judging by both Molly and Severus' determined grasps, it seems as if your attention has been thoroughly claimed. So if you don't mind," he hefted Jillian into his arms, and the girl squealed in delight, "I'll be escorting this young lady to the castle. And I want that entire Ring Pop to be gone before dinner, alright?" Jilly nodded happily as she opened the foil package and placed the sucker on her finger.

"Beautiful," Dumbledore complimented as she held it out in front of her.

As the group crossed the threshold into the Entrance Hall, Lily and Jillian made the same awed sound, both looking around with wide eyes and open mouths. "Don't worry, my dears. The best is yet to come," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile, and with a wave of his wand the doors to the Great Hall opened magnificently before them.

Every smiling face immediately flicked to the newcomers to watch their reaction, and they were not disappointed.

"Wow!" The girls cried in unison, their eyes glued to the thousands of candles floating lazily in the air, which only added to the warm glow that came from beyond. The enchanted ceiling showed streaks of red and purple against the darkening sky, the wispy clouds alight like bonfires in the heavens.

"You get this to look forward to for every meal?" Lily murmured with a gasp. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! I'd… I'd never leave!"

"But what about when it rains?" Jilly asked, tearing her eyes away from the beautiful sunset to look curiously at Dumbledore, who still held her in his arms. "Don't you get wet?"

"The ceiling is still there," Hermione piped up. "But it's bewitched to look like the sky outside and mirror the weather, without any of the negative effects."

"She read about it in Hogwarts: A History," Ron snickered.

Hermione ignored him and with a smile, continued addressing the curious young girl. "So… When the weather is bad, even if there's a raging blizzard outside, we're all still toasty warm in here."

"That is so. cool." Lily said, and she finally looked away from the ceiling to smile at Hermione. "Are you a teacher here, too?"

Snape made an impatient noise, but everyone else laughed.

"This is Hermione Granger," Harry introduced her with an extremely amused glance at his disgruntled father. "She's the muggle-born I was telling you about – the smartest one in the entire school."

"Did you really say that, Harry?" Hermione asked, blushing.

"Oh, shut up," the twins said in unison, both sporting equally affectionate grins.

"Thank you," his father grumbled.

The group made their way past the four house tables up to the staff table on the raised dais. Having only ever seen the Great Hall from this angle when he had been both shocked and extremely apprehensive when the TriWizard Cup had spit his name out, Harry was actually quite excited to be sitting here. Judging by the looks on his classmate's faces, it seemed as if the feeling was mutual for them, as well.

Instead of running the width of the hall with chairs only on one side, the table had been shrunken and widened so that everyone could see one another as they sat all the way around. Empty golden plates and glittering goblets adorned each place setting, and many large platters twinkled in the candlelight as they graced the middle of the table.

The headmaster's large, throne-like chair was at the table's head, and he invited Jillian and Lily to sit next to him. Jilly made herself comfortable next to the old wizard, and Lily gladly took the spot next to her daughter. Snape took the seat beside Lily, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat on Dumbledore's other side. Snape glared peevishly at the twins as they took their places directly across from him. Fred and George seemed to be grinning somewhat wickedly at their old potions professor, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny and sat down next to the twins, not wanting to miss the show they had a feeling was coming.

"We're just waiting for a few more–" Dumbledore said, but was interrupted when Remus, Tonks, Professor McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Hagrid walked through the doors to the Great Hall, talking and laughing amongst themselves.

"Molly, so good to see you're feeling better!" Kingsley called in his deep, booming voice as they approached the table. The rest echoed his sentiments.

As Remus stepped onto the dais, he moved to Molly's side and bent to kiss her cheek from behind. "Welcome back, old girl," he muttered with a smile. Mrs. Wealsey playfully smacked his hand with a laugh, and Remus moved to take the seat in between Ginny and Tonks. McGonagall sat on Snape's other side, and once again his father looked somewhat irritated with the seating arrangements.

Lily and Jillian were staring wide-eyed at Hagrid, who looked like a bear standing on two legs with his moleskin overcoat and wiry hair. But Tonks waved warmly down the table at them, catching their attention, and promptly asked, "Who's this, then?"

"Everyone, meet Lily and Jillian… The newest in the Weasley clan," Mrs. Weasley introduced with a pleased smile. "Lily and Jillian, meet Minerva McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Rubeus Hagrid." She pointed to everyone in turn, and they all greeted the newcomers with a smile and a wave.

"More Weasleys?" Kingsley teased. "How did that happen?" McGonagall leaned over and with a smile, murmured something to the others that Harry couldn't hear.

"I hate the name Nymphadora," Tonks quickly explained to Lily and Jillian, "You can call me Tonks."

"You can call me Jilly-Bean! I like that name better than Jillian," the little girl called back at her from down the table, and with a laugh Tonks winked and said that she would.

Dumbledore took hold of both Mrs. Weasley and Jillian's hands and held them aloft, and the chatter around the table instantly quieted. "There are moments in the long, dark nights when we feel afraid of what we cannot see lurking in the shadows. Yesterday was one such fearful occurrence... However, as everyone here has proven time and time again, the one thing that we can be sure of is that darkness cannot stand in the presence of the light – the day will always dawn once more, no matter how long the night has raged.

"Today we celebrate family both new and old. We remember all that is good and true and strong. Today, we remember why goodness will always win against the evil of this world: because every single one of you are proof that we have something worth fighting for." The headmaster paused and smiled warmly at everyone gathered around the table before him. "Enough of my incessant talking. Let's eat, shall we?"

And with a wave of his hands the platters around them suddenly filled with a delectable and mouth-watering feast. Lily and Jillian gasped yet again, and everyone around the table laughed and smiled at their reactions, knowing that they themselves had been just as shocked and staggered when they had witnessed the spectacular magic of the Great Hall for the first time.

"Lily, it's such a pleasure to finally meet you and your daughter," McGonagall said as she leaned past Snape. "Albus and I helped Severus put all the puzzle pieces together concerning your past. I'm sorry you could not have been with us sooner. But on behalf of everyone, it's so nice to have you with us now."

"Thank you," Lily said with an appreciative smile and a pretty blush. "It's been such an amazing day. We all visited Diagon Alley earlier–"

"Not looking like yourselves, I hope!" McGonagall cried shrilly with a heated glance at Snape. "Only one day after being attacked, Severus–!"

"Calm down before you give yourself a stroke, Minerva," his father said with an irritated sigh and a dramatic roll of his eyes. "I used Glamours on Harry and myself. Believe me, we were not recognized."

"That's because people thought you were muggle porn stars," Fred muttered, and George snorted into his pumpkin juice.

"Excuse me, muggle what?" McGonagall asked in indignant disbelief.

The glower that Snape gave the twins could have withered even the Whomping Willow, but Fred and George looked somewhat proud of themselves.

"We… uh… imitated movie stars, Professor." Harry said. The exasperation on McGonagall's face as her gaze flicked toward him made him hurry to continue, "But in our defense, we didn't know they were that famous." He felt somewhat guilty that the blame was being thrown at his father's feet when Harry knew perfectly well it didn't all belong there. "Severus and I aren't very familiar with the muggle cinema."

McGonagall simply "Humf"-ed in a very Hermione-ish way and peevishly snatched a bun from a golden dish in front of her.

"So what did you think of Diagon Alley?" Mrs. Weasley asked Lily and Jillian as she grasped the nearest platters of roast chicken, peas, mashed potatoes, and grilled vegetables and started adding heaps of food to all the plates around her, including Jillian's, Lily's, and Snape's. With every scoop of food added to his father's plate, Snape's eyes narrowed and his scowl grew angrier and darker.

"It was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!" Jilly cried. "We saw the store with all the potion ingredients, and the store where they sell Quit-Quittis – tuh! – the store where they sell brooms and things, and the store with all the animals. But the best part was–"

"Enough!" Snape suddenly shouted. Mrs. Weasley had been shoveling scoop after scoop onto his father's plate, until there was literally a small mountain of food heaped in front of him. "I'm a man, not a never ending pit that needs filling. That's enough food to feed an entire village," he snapped.

"Don't you take that tone with me, Severus Snape!" Mrs. Weasley retorted. "If you're going to be escorting my family around in times of war, you need to keep up your strength! And I've seen you eat – you pick at food like you were a bird instead of a full-grown man."

Snape looked too shocked to reply. Harry knew that there were not many people who would give back as good as they got from his crotchety father, and he was rather impressed with Mrs. Weasley. After a moment Snape picked up his fork and grumbled, "I won't be escorting anyone if I'm the size of a whale and have to roll everywhere I go."

This time, it wasn't just the twins that snorted into their cups.

"Now," Mrs. Weasley turned back to Jilly with an apologetic smile, "What was the best part of today, dear?"

Unfazed, Jillian grinned widely as she replied, "The joke shop!" Snape dropped his fork with a clatter and pinched the bridge of his nose. The teenagers all burst out laughing, but Jillian continued, "They have all kinds of funny things!"

"Oh, I'm aware of everything they sell there," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile. "Want to know how?" Jilly nodded. "Because my sons, the twins down there – Fred and George – they own that store. They invented almost everything you saw today."

Even Lily was impressed. "Wow, really? You two invented all of that? That's amazing!"

Fred bowed in his seat and George raised his goblet in salute, then aimed a smirk at Snape as he announced, "Cheers, Professor!" Snape only growled at him.

"Don't worry, George," Fred said with a dubious grin. "Professor Snape is just green with envy at our overflowing talent."

With a forkful of food halfway to his mouth, Snape stopped and glared at the two of them. "What talent? You sure fooled me with the lack of effort you put into your schooling." But as he spoke Snape's hair began to turn a very vivid green, from the roots of his hair downward, and his father didn't seem to notice as he scowled at the twins.

Everyone's gaze was wide with shock, but Lily's sudden gasp made Snape turn toward her. Her eyes were glued to his changing hair, and he gently moved his head enough to swing his hair forward, catching sight of the black strands' continuing transformation. Snatching his wand out of his inside sleeve pocket, he murmured a quick, "Finite," and the green immediately disappeared.

He smirked at the twins' disappointed expressions. "It'll take more than that, I'm afraid."

As he spoke, Harry noticed George make a barely discernable movement under the table. In fact, he wouldn't have seen it had he not been sitting so close. His father brought the forkful of food up to his mouth once again, still smirking at the twins, and the expression on his face when he took a bite was comical. His father sputtered and almost spit the food out, but managed to choke it down with an audible swallow.

"You alright, my boy?" Dumbledore asked with concern.

"Fine, Albus," Snape growled, his eyes never leaving the twins. Fred and George were both grinning down at their plates. "My food has just grown a little cold, is all. Finite!" He said again with a bit more force, and a thick torrent of steam suddenly issued from his plate of food.

"So you liked our store, Jilly?" Fred asked with a genuine smile at the young girl.

"Oh yes, very much!" She said excitedly. "I really liked the Whiz-Bang fireworks in the window! And the Pygmy Puffs are so cute!"

Hagrid spoke up from down the table. "I helped breed 'em, y'know. Cute little buggers, even if they don' breathe fire or have three heads or anythin'."

"Pygmy Puff hair and saliva are also very powerful potion ingredients," George mentioned, trying to sound casual and offhand.

"Yeah Professor, perhaps we can send you one. Or five. Heck, maybe we'll even send you an entire litter," Fred continued.

"Do that and you may not be able to walk properly because I will be forced to stick your wands up–"

"Speaking of wands!" Lily hurried to say with a warning glance at Snape, "Severus took us to Ollivander's!"

"Lily accidentally made Mr. Ollivander's hair grow to his knees – even his nose hair," Harry burst out laughing.

"And mum made a bird that pooped on his shoulder," Jilly giggled, but her bright smile waned a bit as she continued, "…and then it exploded." The rest of the table erupted with laughter. Even Snape gave a grudging smile at the memory.

"So you bought a wand?" Remus asked Lily with a warm smile.

She excitedly pulled it from her pocket. "Yes! Dogwood and Unicorn Hair. Mr. Ollivander said it will be good at healing work which is amazing because… well… I'm a nurse in the Emergency Room at the local hospital."

"Really?" Dumbledore said, sounding interested. "Your magic must be very powerful in the healing arts for it to come through even in the muggle world. I do believe that an introduction to Madam Pomfrey is in order," he said to Severus.

"Poppy has mentioned hiring an assistant, Albus," McGonagall said.

The headmaster looked pleased, and his eyes twinkled merrily. "Well Lily, if you ever decide that you'd prefer to work here instead of in the muggle world, please let me know. I have a feeling that Madam Pomfrey would be most pleased to have you."

Lily's cheeks blushed with pleasure and she said sincerely, "Thank you! I will!"

The thought of having Lily here at Hogwarts was an exciting one, and Harry and his friends beamed at each other. Harry then turned and grinned at his family, especially his father. Snape seemed to enjoy the thought of Lily being here as well, for he gave her a warm smile.

"Didn't Mr. Ollivander also say that your wand would be good at charm work?" Harry asked, and Lily nodded.

"Ah, charms," Fred sighed, and the twins were closely eyeing Snape as he reached out and plucked a Cream Puff from one of the dessert trays. "We owe so much of our success to that delightful subject."

Snape finally seemed to feel their gazes, for his eyes flicked to theirs and narrowed suspiciously as he slowly brought the Custard Cream up to his lips and took a bite. The twins seemed to sit up straighter, as if waiting for something to happen. But when nothing did they glanced at each other in confused disappointment as they slumped back into their seats.

George looked to Lily as he, too, plucked a Custard Cream from the dessert tray. "Most of our items use charms in one form or another, even if it's not the main function of the product."

The half-smile that slid onto his father's face as he watched George bring the Custard Cream to his mouth was the only warning of what was about to happen.

As he bit into the puffy little pastry, George suddenly transformed with a loud pop! into a giant canary. Lily and Jillian cried out in shock. The canary's beady little eyes – which in this case were the size of golf balls – turned toward his twin, who looked equally as shocked as the others as the table erupted with laughter. The canary gave a loud squawk, then flapped his wings and began to tweet and titter loudly at his brother. The movements caused a small eruption of feathers to explode and float through the air around him, which only made everyone laugh all the harder.

"I didn't make a mistake!" Fred cried indignantly at the giant yellow canary. "The professor knew what we were doing, bird brain!"

At that moment George began to molt, and as the feathers fell from his body he sat there with his twin, both looking accusingly at Harry's father.

Snape shrugged as he took another bite of his perfectly ordinary Custard Cream, smirking arrogantly across at the twins as he purposefully took his time chewing and swallowing. "You may be little idiots, but you're bold little idiots. You've got nerve… I'll give you that. Cheeky little prats." The twins sat there fuming as the laughter continued around them. The smirk on Snape's face lingered as he took another bite of his Custard Cream. After a moment, Fred and George calmed and chuckled as they looked at their old potions professor with new appreciation.

"You-Know-Who better not try to turn you into a canary," George muttered.

"It may just be the last thing he ever does," continued Fred.

The table burst with laughter again, and the chatter began in earnest. Harry couldn't help but sit back and revel in the feeling of being surrounded by the people he loved. Dumbledore was right. This – this wonderfully contented moment among friends and family – was what they were fighting for. Snape caught his eye and, judging by the genuine smile that came to his lips, Harry couldn't help but think that his father was feeling the exact same way. They smiled knowingly at each other.

Suddenly a single tawny owl swooped through the tall archways near the ceiling, flying directly toward the head table. Flying low, it dropped a rolled up newspaper in Hermione's lap and swiftly flew back from where it had come.

"What…?" Hermione asked as she unrolled a late edition of the Evening Prophet, and the table suddenly went quiet.

"What's happened, Hermione?" Tonks called as Hermione's face disappeared behind the paper as she held it up to read.

After a moment she murmured, "I'm afraid it's something terrible." And she slapped the paper down against the table, her shoulders shaking as she bit her lip to keep from laughing. There, next to a large photo of the family and emblazoned on the front page in big bold letters, was an article entitled, "BRAD PITT: DAFT OR DANGEROUS? FAMOUS MUGGLE STAR'S SECRET WIZARD LIFE."

Snape's head fell onto his arms with a groan as everyone around the table began laughing once again.

"The two of you are exceptionally talented cooks. So I'm positive that you both will make excellent potioneers. I want you to work together to brew Dreamless Sleep," Snape announced to Harry and Lily, slipping easily into teaching-mode. The two immediately began collecting ingredients and tools to bring to their shared brewing station along the wall in the basement lab of Spinner's End.

Although well-stocked and perfect for his brewing needs, Snape had always considered the lab to be somewhat cold and sterile. But as he watched his son and the love of his adult life murmur and laugh alongside one another in excited anticipation, he couldn't help thinking how much warmer the lab felt – as if the room itself was celebrating the addition of a family within its walls.

"What can I do?" Jilly asked earnestly beside him at the center work station.

"You, little miss, have the most important job: you're going to help me make my special bruising ointment for the hospital wing."

"We're making something for Hogwarts?" The girl asked excitedly, and Snape nodded with a smile as he conjured a small stool like the one in her apartment. The bruising ointment was a perfect beginner's potion, as the ingredients were simple and only required to be ground with a mortar and pestle. Jilly grinned elatedly as he walked her through each step in the process, and couldn't help a certain paternal pride as she quickly got to work.

Snape reflected on the past few days as he watched his family work. In all honesty, he had not been happy about the prospect of bringing Lily and Jillian to Spinner's End. It was a house that held such horrendous secrets and memories, and Snape had hated this place for as long as he could remember. It was for this reason that he'd never bothered to maintain or update it after his mother died. It was simply a space for him to exist during the summer months, and he'd never had any intention of bringing anyone here – other than Harry, of course, but that had been out of necessity since he'd had no alternative.

When the apartment next door to Lily's had sprung a leak and she'd told he and Harry that she and Jilly had to stay in a run-down motel for a few days while it was fixed, Harry's rash Gryffindor chivalry immediately sprang into action.

"Why don't you stay with us?" He asked. "That would be ok, right Dad?"

Harry was lucky that it was summertime, for Snape had almost caught himself snarling, "Fifty points from Gryffindor," as he gave his son his darkest and most irritated sneer.

"Honestly Severus, its fine," Lily was quick to say. Those beautiful green eyes looked up at him in assurance. "I've been taking care of myself since I was young. Jilly and I will be alright at the motel. Its– "

"Of course you can stay with us," Snape heard himself saying.

What?

"Are you sure? Honestly, you don't have to…"

"Yes, I'm sure." Not even in the slightest. "Come to my house when the workers get there tomorrow."

But the way she smiled up at him made the nerves momentarily settle. "Ok then," she murmured, and Jilly had cheered in excitement.

The next day came sooner than Snape would have liked as he and Harry started preparing the bleak, shabby house for their arrival. After teaching Harry the spell, Snape allowed him to transform his bed into a bunk bed. However, Harry hadn't been able to correctly perform the color-changing charm on the blankets, so Snape had done it for him – changing both bunks to the pink princess sheets he'd seen in Jilly's room.

"Hey!" Harry had cried in horror, tossing a pillow shaped like a pink and purple crown at Snape's face. His son's appalled expression did wonders for his mood, and Snape couldn't help but laugh.

"I guess you'd better learn how to do the spell properly before they get here, or it's staying like that," Snape muttered with an amused smirk. He told Harry later that he was almost disappointed at how quickly his son had picked the spell up after that – but secretly he was quite pleased with the boy.

His amusement at Harry's mortification didn't last long, and Snape couldn't keep himself from nervously contemplating what the girls would think about the dreary, dilapidated house. Would Lily be disappointed? Would he see regret lingering in her eyes when she looked around? Perhaps she'd finally start to realize what a poor choice she'd made in him…

Convinced of the disappointment he knew she'd feel, Snape's mood had darkened considerably by the time they heard the knock on the front door later that afternoon. Harry whipped out his wand in alarm when two green orbs the size of a ping pong ball appeared over Snape's shoulder and flashed twice before disappearing.

"What was that thing?" He asked in surprise.

"Identification charm," Snape muttered, rising from his seat to answer the door. He supposed that since Harry would be living with him here at Spinner's End over the summer for the next few years, he ought to know what the orbs meant. So he paused while going to the door to listlessly explain, "Green means a witch or wizard we trust; yellow is a muggle; red means Death Eaters." Snape saw the sudden apprehension on his son's face at the mention of Death Eaters, but he didn't stop to offer any reassurance.

Turning the corner into the entrance hall, Snape paused with his hand on the door handle to steel himself for the disenchantment he knew he'd soon be seeing on Lily's face. After a deep breath, he opened the door.

"Hi Severus!" Jilly cried, bouncing up and down on her toes in excitement. Lily placed her hands on the girl's shoulders to settle her, and smiled warmly up at him. He attempted to smile back, but had a feeling it came out looking more like a grimace.

"Well… come in, then." He hadn't meant for it to sound so sharp. Lily ushered Jillian through the door, and his son hurried forward to greet them. Snape made an effort to gentle his voice as he said, "Harry, why don't you take Jilly upstairs and show her where she can put her things?"

"Sure. C'mon Jilly-Bean," Harry said with a wink, and the small girl giggled.

An awkward silence descended between him and Lily as their children ran up the stairs and left them in the entrance hall. Snape found himself looking around anywhere but at her, and it was only with immense effort that he stopped his fidgeting. Lily smiled warmly up at him when he finally met her gaze.

"Well… Yes… I'll show you around," he said gruffly, and he pushed the door to the right open but did not actually move into the room. A wave of insecurity washed through him once again, and his voice sounded self-conscious even to his own ears when he explained, "This is my office–"

"Oh wow!" Lily said, leaning into the room to peek around. She inadvertently brought herself within inches of him, squeezing both of their bodies tightly within the doorframe. Her hair tickled Snape's nose and he clearly caught the scent of lavender.

So pure and wholesome and untainted… And I'm bringing her into the deepest pits of Hell. Snape closed his eyes in shame. I deserve to rot for this.

"Did you read all those?" Lily asked in innocent incredulity, motioning to the books lining the walls.

"Of course," he snapped. "Why? Does that surprise you?"

Lily's eyes flicked to his. Instead of the indignant uncertainty that he'd been expecting, he saw open curiosity in their depths. "Not in the slightest," she murmured as she examined him with those piercing green eyes.

Snape suddenly felt very exposed. He cleared his throat and moved away from her toward the sitting room. "Well… Then I suppose it won't shock you to see even more books," he said by way of introduction.

"More?" She murmured as her eyes roamed the sitting room library, settling on the worn out chair by the fire. "How on earth did you ever have the time?"

"Not all of us were entitled to wonderful childhoods full of friends and playdates!" He retorted bitterly as he ran an aggravated hand through his hair.

Lily tilted her head to the side, openly examining him once again without any heat or anger. "Is that what you think my childhood at the orphanage was like?"

Snape clenched his jaw as he stared at the books surrounding them. Of course he didn't think that. He just… Sighing, Snape ran another hand through his hair, feeling very small and lost. These books were so much more than just words on pages – they were a way to escape his pain and channel his overwhelming anger; friends in moments when he had none; reminders of his pitiful, lonely, loveless existence. The wall of books was a literal barrier between him and the outside world, and Lily's presence among them only seemed to upset the barricades he'd worked so hard throughout his life to build.

"Severus…" Lily murmured softly as she came to stand in front of him. He refused to meet her gaze, so Lily raised her hand and gently laid her palm against his cheek. Tender green looked deeply into hesitant black as she said, "I know you haven't had an easy life. I don't judge you for it. I don't know the details – and I'm not demanding that you tell me. It doesn't matter because whatever happened, it made you into the man you are today…" He chuckled humorlessly and looked away, but she continued, "The man that I love with all my heart and want to spend the rest of my life with."

Snape's shocked gaze came back to rest on the utterly devoted, extremely patient, unconditionally loving woman standing before him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at her. "I don't deserve you," he muttered in a guttural whisper. "You coul have anyone you wanted, why–?"

But she cut him off, crushing her lips against his own in answer. She wound her arms about his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair, pressing her luscious body against his own rough planes and edges. Snape held her tightly as something broke inside him, and with a growl his tongue delved into her willing mouth, dancing and sliding against her warmth and wetness.

The sudden clearing of a throat brought them back from the brink. Although they knew they were no longer alone, the pair parted slowly and for long moments only looked at one another. Lily blushed as she smiled shyly up at him, and Snape couldn't help but arch a brow at her sudden bashfulness when she had been more than willing only moments before.

He met Harry's stare and saw the ridiculously large, sappy grin across his son's face.

"What?" He growled at the boy.

"You two are worse than kids my age," Harry said with a laugh. "I'll be sure to let you in on all the good, private snogging spots at school – Hey!" He cried, ducking as Snape sent a well-aimed toenail-growing hex his way. But the smile was still firmly in place as Harry ambled down the last of the stairs, not realizing the weight of his own words as he casually declared with a shrug, "It's nice having parents that aren't afraid to show how much they love each other."

. . . . .

Snape smiled to himself as he allowed the feeling of the last few days to wash over him. He couldn't remember ever feeling more… complete. They settled so easily into their family roles that, as new as it was for everyone, it felt as if they'd been a family for as long as he could remember. Snape was beginning to feel like the father of two amazing children who constantly made him laugh, made him proud, or made him crazy.

And he also realized that despite his fears, he had the unwavering love of a spectacular woman. As much as he'd feared the thought of having Lily in a place he loathed, it was actually quite nice – she knew him better than he realized, and anytime the lingering memories caused him to slip into a foul mood, she'd press her curves up against him and kiss him senseless. Trying not to be caught by the kids had become a sort of game. In such a small house it usually didn't last long, but they had fun attempting it, nonetheless. Snape felt like one of the love-struck teenagers he usually loathed, and he suddenly found that fact incredibly amusing.

He shook himself from his reverie as he realized that Lily and Harry had gathered all their supplies and were looking expectantly at him from their brewing station. He hurried to say, "I chose Dreamless Sleep because my old stores may have spoiled. Harry, turn to page two-hundred-and-fifty-six in your potions book." He gazed at Lily and explained, "This will be good practice, since you will often be brewing this potion to use in the hospital wing." He smiled warmly at her, still surprised at himself that he was so keen on the idea of working alongside her at Hogwarts come September.

After many conversations, she had finally decided to accept the job, and Severus had passed the message on to Dumbledore when he'd floo'd to the Burrow with the older wizard earlier that morning. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily at the news and for once, the cheerful look didn't irritate Snape in the slightest.

Unfortunately however, the mood didn't last. Even with Dumbledore helping, Snape's wards refused to take hold at the Burrow, which meant the Weasleys would have to stay with their Aunt Muriel a while longer. From what he and Dumbledore could determine, there were so many layers of magical residue at the Burrow that one spell or another was disrupting the wards that Severus was trying to place there. Finding out which spell meant days of work, methodically removing each charm one at a time and trying the wards again until they discovered the problem and could ultimately fix it. The two wizards had decided to begin the large undertaking the very next day.

But now, in this moment, Snape wanting nothing more than to enjoy time spent with his family. He was determined to make good on his promise to help Harry hone the potion-making skills he'd need to become an Auror. And he couldn't deny that Lily and Jillian's eagerness to learn a subject that he was so passionate about also pleased him immensely.

"We need two sprigs of lavender and a measure of melaleuca bark," he told Jilly with a smile, and was delighted to see that she instinctively understood the wrist movements needed to properly crush the ingredients with the mortar. "Good. Grind them both together until you have a fine powder, and then we will blend them with the chopped chamomile flowers and the arnica ointment."

Snape strode over to Harry and Lily in order to check their progress with the Dreamless Sleep potion. "Have you added the flobberworm mucus yet? Oh, Harry – I know the book says to chop the valerian, but I find that it juices better if you crush it with the flat of your blade. Yes, like that. A little more… Good. And Lily, stir just a tad slower… Perfect. Also, when Harry adds the lavender, be sure to add one counterclockwise stir for every–"

Two red orbs suddenly appeared over his shoulder and slowly pulsated twice before fading away, and Snape's words died in his throat. Harry's wide, horrified gaze collided with his own, but Lily's brow furrowed in confusion as she glanced between the two of them.

"Dad…"

"Harry, stay here with Lily and Jillian," Snape commanded in a murmur, but Harry immediately got to his feet.

"What? No… I…what if–?"

Snape placed his hands on his son's shoulders, and it didn't take a Legilimens to see that the boy was scared for him. "Harry… I need you here to watch over Lily and Jillian… keep them safe." And I need to keep YOU safe, he thought frantically, but somehow he was able to keep his face masterfully calm.

Harry stared at him for a long moment, but then took a deep breath and nodded his acquiescence. "I have my cloak, Dad. I've carried it on me since the Burrow. I'll listen just in case you need me."

Snape couldn't bring himself to say anything to his son, knowing that it would be a lie. So with a tightly clenched jaw, he nodded jerkily.

Snape saw Jilly hurry to her mother's side as he rushed past her to the stairs. Jumping the first two, he turned to look back at his family. With an apologetic glance at his son he quickly murmured, "Abscondaris." The white marble slabs along the floor and walls began to fold in on themselves before Harry looked wildly around realized what was happening.

"Dad – NO!"

His boy lunged for the stairs but at that moment the potions lab closed in on itself, blocking Harry's frantic face from Snape's view. A dark, damp muggle basement took the place of the well-lit potions lab.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Snape did his best to quickly tuck his feelings and memories behind his Occlumency shields, but he found it incredibly difficult to calm himself with the people he loved most in life only mere feet away from the unknown danger on the other side of the door. He did his best to compose his turbulent emotions as he walked through the sitting room, trying desperately to still the frenzied panic swirling inside him as he made his way to the door.

As Snape reached for the handle, he paused and allowed his hand to hover just above it as he took one last breath, before grasping the metal and opening the door just a crack. What he saw astonished him, and he couldn't have been more stunned had he seen a dragon standing on his doorstep.

"Narcissa!" he said, opening the door a little wider, so that the light from the entrance hall fell upon her and–

His heart clenched painfully.

–Her sister, Bellatrix.

"Severus," Narcissa said in a strained whisper, throwing back her hood. "May I speak to you? It's urgent."

The woman looked ragged. Her hair, which was normally set atop her head in regally intricate styles, hung tangled and limp about her face. Dark smudges stained the delicate skin beneath her eyes like vivid bruises. She had lost the arrogant luster that normally ignited his irritation whenever he was in her presence, and Snape couldn't help but feel sorry for the pitiful creature that the woman had become.

"Of course," he murmured, and he stood back to allow her to pass him into the house. Bellatrix, her eyes glinting at Snape from the shadow of her hood, followed close behind without invitation.

"Snape," she said curtly as she passed him.

"Bellatrix," he replied, his lip curling into a mocking sneer as he closed the door behind her with a snap. The urge to reach out and strangle the woman for what she did to his son was almost overwhelming but, with difficulty, he was able to tamp it down.

Snape gestured to the threadbare sofas. Narcissa immediately unclasped her cloak and cast it aside as if it had been trying to choke the life from her, then collapsed upon the sofa and tightly clutched her trembling hands within her lap. Bellatrix lowered her hood slowly, never taking her sharp and suspicious gaze off Snape.

"So," Snape said as he settled himself across from them on the opposite sofa. "What can I do for you?"

"We… we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked in a quavering voice.

"Of course," Snape replied, his gaze now moving to Bellatrix, who had abandoned her post behind her sister and was now wandering the edges of the sitting room, leering at the shabby, well-used furniture and books. She prowled like a predator on the hunt for prey. Although her inspection made him uneasy, he plastered an indifferent, somewhat amused look upon his face.

Suddenly there was a muffled bang from the kitchen, and it was with extreme difficulty that he didn't jump. Thankfully neither of the sisters seemed to have heard it.

Harry… Damn the boy! He must be trying to unlock the spell to the lab. His reckless bravery and foolish pride are going to get him killed!

Rising slowly and easily to his feet Snape murmured, "I've been remiss in my duties as host. Please allow me to retrieve some drinks." And he made his way to the kitchen, being sure not to look too hurried.

But the moment he rounded the corner he hurried to the basement door and managed a wordless, "Muffliato!" He then made sure to make plenty of noise, banging and clinking the glasses as he placed them on the tray with the bottle of wine, just in case. Catching snippets of hissed conversation as he once again entered the sitting room, Snape couldn't help but grimly smile at the predictability of what he heard.

"…must not do this, you cannot trust him!"

"The Dark Lord trusts him, doesn't he?"

"Of course he trusts me," Snape interjected as he poured three glasses of the blood-red wine. "Through all these years, the Dark Lord acknowledges that I have played my part as Dumbledore's stooge very well. Long ago I spun the headmaster a tale of deepest remorse, and the old fool has embraced me with open arms ever since. For fifteen years, he has never stopped trusting the man he believes me to be – therein lies my greatest value to the Dark Lord." He handed them each a filled glass, but as Bellatrix grasped hers, Snape refused to release it as he narrowed his eyes and murmured, "Yes… The Dark Lord trusts me, Bella. You would do well to remember that."

She looked unconvinced as she pulled her glass from his fingers. He raised his wine and saluted her with a sardonic smile.

"To the Dark Lord," he said, draining the glass and secretly praying that the liquid would assuage his nervous tension.

The sisters murmured the same toast as he eased himself slowly back onto the sofa opposite them. Like him, Narcissa drained her glass. But Bellatrix only sipped the dark liquid, her eyes flicking suspiciously over the rim of her goblet between Snape and her sister.

As Snape leaned forward to pour Narcissa more wine, the harried woman took a deep, shuddering breath. Then, as if worried her courage would desert her, she rushed to say, "Severus, I'm sorry to come here like this, I know I ought not to be here. I have been told to say nothing to anyone, but–"

"Then you should hold your tongue!" snarled Bellatrix.

Although his heart was racing, Snape kept his face blank and impassive, not daring to show any clue that he hadn't the faintest hint of what they were talking about.

Narcissa's eyes never left his own. Her face eloquent with despair, she murmured, "I think you are the only one who can help me, Severus. I have nowhere else to turn."

"You have me!" Bellatrix cried as she came around the sofa and fell to her knees before her sister. For the first time that Snape could ever remember, he saw real, human emotion playing on her face. Narcissa cried out in anguish and covered her face with her hands as Bellatrix begged, "Please, Cissy! You don't need to do this! I can speak to the Dark Lord! He calls me his most loyal, his most faithful–"

Remembering the last Death Eater's meeting – and wanting to keep Narcissa talking in order to gather information – Snape delicately inflected his voice to show his disbelief as he asked, "Does he…? Does he still, after the fiasco at the blood traitor's home?"

Bellatrix flushed and whipped around face Snape as she passionately replied, "He knows he can trust me! I, who spent so many years in Azkaban for him!"

"Indeed, that was most admirable of you," Snape responded in a falsely bored voice. Inspecting his fingernails he continued, "Of course, you were completely useless to him in prison, but the gesture was undoubtedly fine."

"Gesture!" Bellatrix shrieked indignantly, but Snape didn't allow her to continue as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, staring intently at Narcissa.

"Narcissa," he murmured quietly, despite her sister's continued furious sputtering. The woman slowly raised her face from her hands and gazed at him imploringly as two fat tears slipped silently down her cheeks. "You know your sister's days as the Dark Lord's favorite are over." At this, Bellatrix jumped to her feet, her eyes bulging as she gasped and choked in outrage. Snape paid her no mind and continued, "You've known it since the last Death Eater's meeting. But you came here to ask for my help… Mine, as I am still in a potion close enough to the Dark Lord to offer it."

Narcissa swallowed hard, suddenly looking very nervous. "The Dark Lord wishes no one to know of the plan. It is… very secret. He has forbidden us to speak of it–"

Knowing what the Dark Lord was capable of concerning tabooed words and the enchantments he could place upon them, Snape was quick to interject, "If the Dark Lord has forbidden it, then you ought not to speak."

Narcissa gasped as if he had doused her with a bucket of ice water. Bellatrix seemed just as shocked as her sister, for there were long moments of heavy silence. Snape rose quickly to his feet and turned his back to the women, knowing he would be unable to keep his features calmly schooled in that moment.

The Dark Lord is devising a plan.

This is not good.

Suddenly Bellatrix muttered, "You were told not to talk Narcissa, so hold your silence. Even Snape says so…"

Snape turned around to face them. He knew he was taking a major risk, but he didn't see any other choice. "It so happens that I know of the plan," Snape boldly lied, trying to sound confident. "I am one of the few that the Dark Lord has told."

"I thought you must know!" breathed Narcissa with a glance at her sister. She stood from the sofa and hurried to Snape. "He trusts you so, Severus… Of course you must know about the plan!"

"Youknow about the plan?" asked Bellatrix in disbelief. "You?"

"Certainly," replied Snape. "But what help do you require of me, Narcissa? I'm afraid that if you are imagining that I can persuade the Dark Lord to change his mind, then there is no hope, none at all."

"Severus," she whispered, tears now sliding freely down her pale cheeks. "My son… my only child…" And she began to cry in earnest, gazing beseechingly up at him.

So the plan has something to do with Draco. And it is dangerous, very dangerous…

"If Draco succeeds," Snape responded slowly, choosing his words carefully so as not to give himself away, "then he will be honored above all others."

"But he won't succeed!" sobbed Narcissa. "How can he? He is only a boy, he has no idea what lies in store! It's too dangerous! The Dark Lord himself has not even been able to accomplish the task!" Loosing what little self-restraint she still possessed, Narcissa clutched the front of Snape's robes with a strong grip that belied her small stature, and with wide eyes she began to plead. Snape thought she looked a bit crazed as she looked up at him and cried, "You could do it instead of Draco! You would succeed, of course you would, and the Dark Lord would reward you beyond all of us!"

What has the Dark Lord been unable to accomplish that would cause Narcissa to act as if her son was headed toward certain death?

Looking down into the woman's tearstained face, Snape took another risk and prayed it would garner more information. "The Dark Lord intends me to do it in the end, I think. But he is determined that Draco should try first. You see, in the unlikely event that Draco succeeds, I will be able to remain at Hogwarts a little longer as a spy."

"In other words, it doesn't matter to the Dark Lord if Draco is killed!" Narcissa crumpled, falling at Snape's feet, weeping and moaning on the floor. With a scream of despair she clutched at her tangled hair and wailed, "My son… my only son!"

Thinking of Harry and Jillian, Snape couldn't pretend to himself that he was not moved by the sight of her, as he was now intimately aware of the kind of love that was driving her to madness. He knew firsthand the willingness of a parent to trade their very life, if it meant keeping their child safe. He couldn't help the surge of pity and compassion he felt for the woman's plight.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Snape knelt down next to Narcissa and murmured, "It might be possible for me to help Draco."

What are you doing?! You don't even know what you'd be helping him with, you sentimental imbecile!

But Narcissa was looking at him, her eyes huge. "Severus – oh, Severus – you would help him? Would you look after him, see that he comes to no harm?"

"I…" He could feel Bellatrix starting down at him in doubtful suspicion, and he dared not make eye contact for fear that she would see right through his feeble shields in his moment of nervous uncertainty. Swallowing hard, Snape knew there was no away around Narcissa's question without arousing suspicion. "I can try."

Narcissa seized his hand in both of hers and pressed it to her lips. "If you are there to protect him… Severus, will you swear it? Will you make the Unbreakable Vow?"

Snape's expression went blank, unreadable, although his heart was hammering in his chest hard enough to make him wonder why they couldn't hear it. "The Unbreakable Vow?"

Bellatrix let out a cackle of triumphant laughter before sneering down at Snape. "Aren't you listening, Cissy? Oh, he'll try to help Draco, I'm sure. As long as it doesn't require any risk to his own skin–"

A muffled bang from below followed by the sound of breaking glass caught all of their attentions, and Snape's breath hitched in his chest. Harry was making enough noise that even the Muffliato couldn't conceal it. What in Merlin's name was the boy doing?! Could he not follow a simple direction that would keep his own stupid, stubborn hide safe?

Bellatrix's eyes snapped to his in mistrust. "I thought you said we were alone?" she hissed in an angry whisper.

"Alley cat," he muttered, trying to sound as if it was a common exasperating occurrence. Bellatrix didn't seem convinced however, and with wand raised, she began to stalk slowly toward the kitchen.

Snape's heart stopped. Spinner's End was massively protected from the outside, but Snape had never bothered to raise the house's defenses from within. As hidden as the lab was, it wouldn't take much for Bellatrix to discover the truth.

My family. Oh my God…

Narcissa's tear-filled blue eyes were fixed upon her sister, but she continued to clutch desperately at Snape's hand. The terror of seeing Bellatrix advance threateningly toward the people he loved fueled him to speak before he'd even had a chance to consider the consequences.

"I'll do it."

"What?" Bellatrix spun around to stare down at him.

"I'll make the Unbreakable Vow."

Bellatrix's mouth fell open, and even Narcissa seemed shocked as he moved to grasp her by the wrist. She looked down at his hand on her forearm for a long, silent moment before her fingers mirrored the gesture, joining them for the spell.

"You will need your wand, Bella… if you consent to be our Bonder, that is." Snape muttered, trying to impart as much of his typical cold sneer into his words as his pounding heart would allow. Whatever it takes to keep her from heading toward the kitchen. I'll do anything she wants…

Looking astonished, Bellatrix drew her wand and stepped forward. Snape desperately tried to hide the relief flooding through him. Bellatrix stood over them, and the tip of her wand began to glow as she placed it lightly upon their linked hands.

"Will you, Severus Snape, watch over Draco Malfoy, as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord's wishes?" she murmured.

Once again, the fact that he had absolutely no idea what he was swearing to hit him like a kick to the gut from a rampaging centaur. But his hesitance was beginning to arouse another suspicious look from Bellatrix, so he had no other choice but to continue.

"I will."

A thin tongue of brilliant light shot from her wand and wound its way around he and Narcissa's joined hands.

Bellatrix continued. "And will you, to the best of your ability, protect him from harm?"

"I will," Snape murmured again.

A second tongue of brilliant light burst from her wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain.

Narcissa suddenly spoke up, and although tears still rolled down her face and her hand trembled within his own, her voice was strong. "And… should it prove necessary… if it seems Draco will fail… will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to perform?"

Snape's grip tightened on her forearm. His chest constricted painfully so that he could barely draw breath. What in Merlin's name am I swearing to…? With both sister's eyes on him, he did his best to sound as normal as possible when he muttered, "I will…"

A last tongue of brilliant light issued forth from the wand and bound itself thickly around their clasped hands like a fiery rope. The glow intensified for a moment, and Snape could clearly feel the heat of it against his skin as he squinted against the sudden intensity.

Then the brilliant light dimmed, and the chain seemed to melt into his and Narcissa's hands. Snape smothered the gasp that almost escaped him when he felt the chain latch onto something deep inside and settle there, threatening and perfectly poised to end his life if he did not fulfill the terms of the Vow.

"Draco should be proud," said Bellatrix indifferently as she tucked her wand away. "The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: he isn't shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect–"

"That's because he is a teenager and feels invincible!" Narcissa cried shrilly as she clambered to her feet, obviously still rattled by Draco's plight – even with Snape now on her son's side. She stalked threateningly toward her sister, daring her to say anything more. "There has been no grown wizard that has been able to accomplish the task! How can my son – an underage, unqualified wizard – still just a boy! – possibly do it when neither Grindlewald nor the Dark Lord have been able to kill Dumbledore?!"

The sisters were so intent on each other that they did not notice when Snape staggered at Narcissa's words as he rose to his feet.

KILL Dumbledore?

No… Oh God, no! What have I done?!

"You should be proud!" said Bellatrix ruthlessly to her sister. She stared at Narcissa with a disgusted look on her face. "If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up in service to the Dark Lord!"

The horror of the realization of what he'd just sworn to, combined with the weight of the Vow's chain wrapped tightly around his heart, made Snape reckless, driving all thought of caution from his mind.

"Such a ridiculous sentiment so easily thrown about from a woman that was never able to produce a child of her own!" he spat at Bellatrix, his raging emotions bubbling perilously close to the surface.

Bellatrix stared at him, her face paling beneath his heated glare. But then her eyes narrowed and her cheeks began to burn crimson. "How dare you speak to me like that–"

"You are a disgrace to your house, Bellatrix! You spew such repulsive venom at your sister, accuse her of being disloyal, when all she wants is to protect her son. At least she did not fail in her duty to produce a Pureblood child–!"

He didn't have a chance to finish.

Bellatrix let out a shriek of rage and began rapidly firing spells at him from across the room. He was prepared for her attack, had even hoped for it in his current frame of mind. But the terror he felt – for his family, for Dumbledore, for the very future of the Wizarding world – was like shards of glass cutting painfully away at his brain. Snape's mind was not solely on the fight and his reactions were sluggish. In a matter of moments, he was hit.

"Crucio!"

He crumpled instantly, his limbs flailing as a thousand heated knives pierced him, flaying his skin from his very bones. He was no stranger to this particular pain, having known it intimately after serving the Dark Lord for so long. The pain helped to silence the chaos in his mind, allowing him to focus clearly for the first time since he'd locked his family in the lab below.

Bellatrix's face was contorted in rage, her eyes bloodshot, her mouth twisted in fury. A look of demented triumph glazed her eyes as she approached him, her wand pointed to continue her torment. Snape knew that she enjoyed hearing the screams of her victims, so he clenched his jaw and refused to make a sound as the agony continued to tear through him.

"You bastard! Now you have nothing to say?" she screamed down at him. "I swear I will make you scream before I kill you, Snape!"

His hands twisted in on themselves, his long, skillful fingers hideously contorting into claw-like points that forced his fingers to pop and crack as the bones dislocated. But still, Snape refused to scream.

"Bella, don't!"

Narcissa was suddenly there beside Bellatrix, desperately attempting to pull her sister away from Snape's thrashing body. Bellatrix turned, interrupting the spell as she hurled her sister away from her. She shoved the other woman with such force that her sister crashed into a bookcase, causing it to shudder and teeter dangerously above her as she tumbled to the floor. Narcissa was knocked out cold by the impact.

Snape gasped a deep, rattling breath as the spell was unintentionally released. He awkwardly grasped his wand in his swollen, trembling fingers and sent a hail of sharp ice shards at Bellatrix as he tried to knock her off her feet.

"Glacius Testa!" he muttered in a weak voice.

The large chunks of ice pummeled her body before breaking apart against the wall. A particularly heavy chunk hit her squarely in the side of the head, staggering her. Snape repeated the spell as he desperately tried to get to his feet. But Bellatrix was not as dazed by the heavy impact as he'd hoped.

"Incendio!" she cried, flinging the spell over her shoulder as she attempted to protect herself from the chunks of ice bombarding her body. The spell flew well past the ice shards, instead igniting a bookcase along the far wall. The flames quickly grew to devour the dry, aged pages of the extensive library.

Snape's gaze was fixed by the fire as it jumped from one book case to the next, so much so that he didn't hear Bellatrix's shout.

"CRUCIO MAXIMA!"

Crumpling to the floor once again, his limbs stiffened in agony and his back arched off the ground. He heard a piercing, guttural scream, only realizing it came from him when something in his raw throat tore open and he almost choked on his own blood. His body began to thrash and buck uncontrollably. Within seconds his mind was no longer his own, and mental torment merged with the physical anguish, delving into his brain with the force of an axe to the skull.

Jillian being passed around among the particular few Death Eaters that enjoyed their sickening predilection for children. He could clearly hear her begging them to stop as she cried out for her mother… for him…

"NO! Let her go! I'll fucking kill you!" But his struggles to get to her were as useless as trying to capture water with a sieve. The more he fought to get to her, the father away she seemed to be.

Suddenly the scene changed. Lily was surrounded by a pack of werewolves, her eyes huge and fearful as they transformed around her. She was calling his name, but her pleading cries for help were drowned out by their snarling and snapping jaws. Without warning they converged and tore her to pieces, and her bloodcurdling screams brought him to hysterics.

"NOOOO! I'm coming – oh my God – no! LILY!" But his struggles were in vain once again.

Now it was Harry, crumpled and bleeding at the Dark Lord's feet as the Death Eaters gathered eerily around them. His son was battered and bloody as he repeatedly called for Snape in a rasping whisper.

"Dad…"

"Harry, I'm here!"

Harry seemed to hear him, and it was even worse than the pointless struggles of before. His son tried desperately to crawl toward him to safety. But the Dark Lord laughed as he pushed Harry flat with a dirty foot. Harry was too weak to fight back, and the Dark Lord nudged him with his toes and flipped him over to stare down into his pain-filled, hazy eyes.

"GET OFF HIM, you fucking monster!" Snape screamed. "I'll rip you limb from limb, you snakelike bastard!" But the Dark Lord did not hear him.

"There is no escape, Harry Potter. You will die. And all those you claim to love will perish alongside you."

"Dad… Help me…"

The Dark Lord raised his wand, the red in his eyes gleaming as a malicious smile played upon his lipless mouth. "Avada–"

"Bellatrix, stop!"

A body collided with Bellatrix above him, knocking the woman off her feet. Snape rolled to his side and vomited the moment he was released from the curse, panting loudly and choking on the smoke billowing throughout the sitting room. His limbs continued to tremble and jerk uncontrollably, and Snape was too weak to do anything more than lay there gasping for breath.

"Stop, Bella!" Narcissa cried as she threw her arms around her bucking sister, heaving her away from Snape and desperately trying to prevent Bellatrix from attacking him again. Blood trickled from beneath her silver hair into her eye, but still she refused to let go. "Think of Draco!" she urged. "He needs Severus' help – you have to stop this! We need him!"

Bellatrix threw her sister off with an incensed scream, panting fiercely as she glared down at Snape's prone form. She stood over him for what seemed like an eternity as the fire began to rage in the house around them. As Snape stared helplessly up at her, the flames engulfing all his worldly possessions behind her, Bellatrix truly looked like the devil she was.

With a final, feral scream, she spat at him as he lay sprawled at her feet. Then spun on the spot and was gone.

"Severus!" Narcissa dropped to her knees next to him, glancing fearfully at the engulfing flames. "Your house… We must go!"

"No," he gasped, but the word was so feeble that she didn't hear it. No! My family! I WON'T LEAVE THEM! He screamed, but it was useless, for the words were only inside his head and his traitorous body was too depleted and weak to actually speak them.

Using her wand, Narcissa was able to get him to his feet before wrapping an arm about his waist and forcing him to stumble out the front door. He tried desperately to struggle away from her, but was so weak that he barely made it outside before he collapsed again.

Narcissa looked frantic as she knelt next to him. "Severus… Your house… I'm so sorry." The orange flames reflected in her wide eyes as she continued, "I can't stay – the Dark Lord… I have to go. I'll… I'll try to get a message to Dumbledore, I give you my word. I'm sorry, Severus." And as she stood with a last glance at his burning house, she spun on the spot and was gone.

Once he was finally alone, the panic threatened to overwhelm him. He had to get back inside! He had to get his family!

But his treacherous body refused to cooperate. His hands screaming in agony, Snape crawled the few feet to the side of the house and attempted to pull himself to his feet. But his boneless legs refused to hold him, and he collapsed into the dirt. Refusing to give in, he used his mangled hands to push himself against the wall and to his feet once more. Sagging limply against the old wood, flecks of old paint flaking off onto his cheek and hair, he made his way as fast as he was able toward the door.

Despite the dizziness that threatened to bring him to his knees as he stumbled along, he finally made it. The heat was unimaginable, the smoke thick as it stung his eyes. His swollen fingers clumsily pulled the collar of his robe over his nose and mouth as he pushed forward.

The library was an inferno, the books an absolute feast for the all-consuming fire. But Snape didn't care. He would gladly sacrifice it all as long as it meant his family would get out alive and unhurt. I'll trade it all for them.

"DAD!"

The sudden cry brought him up short. With great effort Snape lifted his head, and his eyes met the wide, terrified gaze of his son. Lily and Jillian stood directly behind him. The acute relief that flooded through him was almost painful in its intensity, and he found himself suddenly dizzy as he cried out in gratitude, unable to suppress his emotion. He stumbled toward them, and Harry rushed into the burning room to help him.

"You're safe! Thank you, God!" Snape muttered, his little strength finally leaving him as he almost collapsed within his son's arms.

"Dad! Come on, we have to get–"

Suddenly there was a hideous, rupturing crack from above, and their gazes snapped upward. Instant understanding caused Snape to use the last of his strength to hurl Harry aside as the ceiling gave way. The last thing he heard as fiery beams crashed down around him were the gut wrenching, horrified screams of his family.

The pain was unbearable. Snape screamed in agony as a red hot blade peeled the very skin away from his muscles. He attempted to claw at the raging inferno of nerves throughout his body, but his hands refused to move. His lips stayed silent and immobile, but inside his mind he bellowed at the unending torture.

He was trapped. Imprisoned in the dark confines of his own body.

Time had no meaning. There was only pain. Intense. Fiery. Continuous. As if he was being burned at the stake in the pits of Hell. I've been damned for all the evils I've committed… His body burned for minutes, days, centuries… He could no longer tell.

Suddenly his veins filled with liquid, and the pain eased somewhat.

Potions… Someone was attempting to bring him back from this hellish purgatory. And from that moment on, although the pain raged on inside the darkness, it was always with different degrees of intensity. Often he begged for death, if only to escape the anguish blazing within. But the potions would always come, and the pain would lessen.

Then something changed. The pain ebbed slightly away, like a flooding tide beginning to inch back from whence it came after a storm. With its departure, he could feel a cool hand within his own. He tried to cling to it, but his traitorous fingers still refused to move.

That hand connected him to something that his mind couldn't quite grasp, but his heart recognized instantly. There was something familiar lurking at the dark edges of his mind... But the harder he thought about it, the faster the answer danced away into the mist. It was like standing on the edge of a foggy sea shore; even though his vision was obscured by a thick haze, he could still clearly hear the waves. He yearned to break through that haze so he could see the sun reflecting like a thousand brilliant diamonds on the water's surface…

Suddenly another potion, and his awareness began to dim. He fought desperately against it, wantingto feel that cool hand even if it meant he had to continue suffering through the fiery pain. But the precious fingers clinging to his own, along with the agony burning away inside him, continued to ebb away until all he knew was nothing, nothing, nothing…

. . . . .

Snape's heart was pounding when he awoke with a strangled gasp. Each beat was like the stroke of a blacksmith's hammer shooting red hot agony throughout his body. Panic tore through him, and he couldn't suppress a moan as he tried to rise.

Where am I? His thoughts tumbled over one another like terrified first years fleeing the damned mountain troll on that long ago Halloween night... Except Harry. Harry hadn't run, the stubborn, foolish, brave little... Harry! Where is my son?! Snape's pulse raced as he attempted to rise yet again. But agony flooded him with each tiny movement, and he collapsed back against the pillow. Bellatrix, he panted, refusing to give in as he struggled to sit up and slide his legs off the bed. The fire. Where is my family?!

Two wizards in maroon medical robes suddenly rushed into the room. "Professor!" The younger one called with an urgent note in his voice, "Professor Snape, stop!" He grasped Snape by the shoulder and Snape tried to shake him off, but realized he was much weaker than he thought when he only managed to shudder uselessly beneath his grasp.

As the wizard gently pushed him back, Snape realized that he knew the boy. "Roger?" He croaked. "Roger Davies?" The Ravenclaw had graduated Hogwarts this past year, and Snape had never thought to see him again.

The older wizard that had rushed into the room with Roger looked over a few magical monitors floating in the air next to Snape's bed. "Your mental faculties don't seem to be damaged," he muttered as he made slight movements with his wand, and the monitors changed into various colors, beeping and pinging all the while.

"That's a good sign, Pete," Davies said brightly to the older wizard. He then addressed Snape as he continued to urge him back down with a gentle push. "Can you remember what happened before you arrived here, Professor?"

Too exhausted to fight back, Snape closed his eyes and collapsed against the pillows. The simple act of trying to get out of bed had drained what little energy he had. Panting and out of breath he murmured, "Fire…"

Davies' eyes darkened. "Yes. I'm sorry about that, Professor. I've heard that the fire was almost impossible to extinguish – they think it was magical in origin. It was lucky that Dumbledore got there when he did; he was able to get you out in time."

"Do you remember anything else?" Pete asked from Snape's other side.

Still exhausted, Snape's reply was a simple, "I was Crucioed..."

Davies nodded. "That's what Harry thought–"

"Harry was here? Was he with a woman and child? Are they safe?!"

"Professor," Pete interjected as he ran his fingers over Snape's many injuries. "You've been in a coma for almost two weeks. It's important for you to stay calm. Your body is still weak–" Snape let out a sudden hiss of pain as the man bent the joints of his shaking, spasmodic fingers. "Does that hurt?" Pete asked as he glanced worriedly down at him.

Snape's mouth was pressed into a very thin, McGonagall-like line to keep from crying out. When he gave a single, jerky nod instead of answering, the older man spoke across him to Davies.

"I think we should call in that doctor from Neurology again – the one that specializes in nerve damage caused by dark magic. She was the one that suggested those potions, and came up with the exercises that Lily and Harry were doing on his hands."

Snape supposed that the look the man gave him before he hurried from the room was supposed to be reassuring, but it meant nothing to him. He didn't give a damn about his hands. In that moment he would have gladly removed them himself if it meant garnering information about his family's whereabouts.

"Davies," Snape insisted, his eyes imploring as they bored those of his old student. "Tell me about my family! Where are they? I need to know they are safe!"

Davies' brow furrowed as his eyes flicked back and forth between Snape's own, as if trying to catch one of them in a lie. He looked confused as he studied his old professor. With a hesitant glance at the door that Pete had just left, he slowly murmured, "There's been a lot of people coming and going, Professor. Ron Weasley's family, Professor Lupin, even Professor Dumbledore. He collected the little one – Jillian – the last time he was here. But Lily and Harry… They refused to leave your side, no matter what Dumbledore or anyone else said. The headmaster was worried because they weren't sleeping, they were barely eating…"

A wave of guilt crashed over Snape at Davies' words. He was intimately familiar with the cold, gut-churning fear they must have been feeling, having felt it himself when Harry had run from him that first morning. The terror of not knowing if he would find Harry in time still haunted him, and it was that same terror that drove him now. After all the tragedy and loss that Harry and Lily had suffered in their lives, the knowledge that they were experiencing that exquisitely anguished pain because of him almost ate Snape alive.

"Where are they?" he murmured.

"Sir, I think Pete may be right. You shouldn't–"

"Roger… please…"

The use of the boy's first name drew him up short, and Davies was suddenly looking at him as if he'd grown three extra heads. "Well…" He looked unsure, like the words might bite him while coming out of his mouth. "There was a, ah… situation here at the hospital," he said delicately. "Bellatrix Lestrange must have heard you were here." Snape couldn't help an involuntary jerk when he heard the name. But Davies didn't seem to notice, and he continued, "She attempted to simply walk through the front doors, but Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley, and his son Bill were able to stop her before she got further than the second floor." He paused, and another curious look crossed his face. "There seem to be a lot of, um, able fighters around since you arrived. In fact, there was a girl with pink hair that was here before you woke up, said she was an Auror just coming off a double shift. I'm not sure where she went – maybe to get some coffee or something. She looked dead on her feet…"

"My family," Snape prodded, trying not to lose his patience. "Where is my family?"

"After the attack, Dumbledore said it wasn't safe for them to stay. Wouldn't be swayed no matter what they said. Lily agreed to go back to Hogwarts, where her daughter is currently being looked after…"

Relief momentarily washed through him. There was no safer place for Jillian and Lily than at Hogwarts. But he was still anxious. "And Harry? Did he go to Hogwarts, as well?"

"Lily begged the headmaster not to separate them. Said she feared for Harry's safety, that the other family he had was dangerous…"

The relief that had washed through him suddenly froze in his veins. "Whatfamily?"

"Dumbledore said something about blood wards, that it was the safest place for him–"

"What. Family?"

"The ones he grew up with… the muggles."

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

Harry sat with his back against the wall in the far corner of Dudley's old spare room, running his fingers over his bruised and swollen face. His tender knuckles ached as he brushed them across his lips to wipe away the blood.

Leaning his head back against the wall, he dully contemplated what his punishment was going to be for starting a fight against 'poor, defenseless' Dudley. It didn't seem to matter that the fight had been completely physical, as his wand had been promptly locked away in his old cupboard as soon as he'd arrived. It also didn't seem to matter that the fight had been in Dudley's favor, as the boy had roughly three stone on Harry and had absolutely thrashed him after Harry managed his few quick punches.

He knew the backlash would be brutal. Dudley was probably filling his mother's ear with lies at this very moment. And Uncle Vernon, whenever he finally arrived home… Harry just hoped that the threat of Dumbledore's wrath would be enough to keep his Uncle's brutal fists off him.

What exactly did the headmaster think was going to happen when he sent me back here? Dumbledore may not have known the extent of things that had happened early on in the summer. But he knew enough that he should have realized sending him back to the Dursley's was a bad idea.

The headmaster had dropped him here three days ago, and Harry still had yet to hear any word on how Snape was… It was that constant, gnawing fear for his dad that was driving him to be incredibly reckless and stupid, like with Dudley.

In the past Harry had always been able to let his cousin's taunting jeers roll off his back, and in fact had barely even bothered listening. But since his arrival, Dudley had gotten a twisted, sick satisfaction explaining in sordid detail just how he imagined Harry spending the summer with his 'freaky professor'. The words had gotten under Harry's skin in a bad way, remembering the memory he had seen of Snape as a boy. And the fact that Dudley had tried to do those same things to him, but didn't remember after having his memory wiped, was even worse. It was a private, hellish torment, and after three days of listening to his vile cousin, Harry had finally snapped.

Wishing his uncle would hurry up and get home so they could get this stupid punishment over and done with, Harry impatiently picked at the carpet fibers beneath him as he wondered how things had spiraled this far out of control. First the fire and his dad, and now this…

When Dumbledore had come back to Snape's hospital room after fending off Bellatrix alongside Bill and Mr. Weasley, his first words had been that he and Lily weren't safe and could no longer stay at St. Mungo's. Lily had begged to keep Harry by her side, practically gotten on her hands and knees when pleading with the headmaster. But Harry hadn't bothered, too worried about his dad, and resigned to the fact that Dumbledore would not relent where the blood wards were concerned. At least, the headmaster never had in the past when it was Harry begging and pleading not to send him back to his relatives.

Harry was amazed that the Dursleys had even allowed him back in the house. There had been quite the commotion when Dumbledore knocked on their front door, Harry and what little remaining possessions had been saved from the fire in tow. Aunt Petunia's screeching had neighbors sticking their heads out to stare curiously at Number Four. His aunt quickly realized that the front lawn probably wasn't the best place for her tirade, and ushered them disdainfully inside.

They were not even two steps into the entrance hall before her diatribe continued.

"I will not have that filth in my house for another second!" Aunt Petunia screamed, pointing at Harry. "He is unwelcome in our home – I told Snape that we didn't ever want to set eyes on him again, and I meant it!"

"Don't worry, the feeling is completely mutual," Harry muttered, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he gazed listlessly at the floor. He had bigger things to worry about than if his spiteful relatives liked him or not.

"Why you disrespectful little–!" Uncle Vernon lunged in his direction, but a simple flick of Dumbledore's wandless hand halted him mid-stride. Harry could feel the warning radiating from the headmaster from where he stood behind him, and he glanced up at the ceiling as the lights flickered and dimmed of their own accord.

"I know this situation is not ideal," Dumbledore said coldly, "But you gave me your word when you took him as an infant that you would allow him space in your home, no matter how small. I can also see that I was negligent in my duties all those years ago. I assumed that as your sister's child and only living relative, Harry would be loved and cherished as much as your own son." The hair on the back of his Harry's neck prickled, and the soft fuzz along his arms stood on end. He could tell by the terror etched on all three of the Dursley's faces that, like him, they could clearly feel the danger vibrating in the very air around them. The headmaster continued, "I never said it then, but I can see that it needs saying now: if you ever lay a hand on Harry, I will be forced to take measures that you will find mostunpleasant – that I swear."

Uncle Vernon's small, watery eyes flicked in Harry's direction before settling back on Dumbledore, as if he were afraid that the headmaster would attack his family if he wasn't watching him. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I need to hear you say the words." It was as close to a growl as Harry had ever heard from the headmaster.

Vernon glanced sideways at his wife. "He… he can stay."

"Good," Dumbledore murmured, sounding relieved. "Harry, why don't you take your things upstairs and get settled–"

"No!" Aunt Petunia stepped brazenly forward.

Dumbledore's eyes flashed indignantly behind his spectacles as he peered down at her. "Excuse me?"

"H-he can stay. B-but only if those… those things," she glared first at the wand sticking out of his pocket, then at the trunk he dragged behind him as if they were both covered in fresh troll dung, "Are locked away."

The headmaster's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Does your prejudice run so deep that you would disarm Harry of the only weapon he can use to defend himself? Because make no mistake Petunia – there are many evil men on Voldemort's side, and they may well find him here."

"I refuse to allow magic to be done in this house!" she spat.

Dumbledore stared at her unblinkingly for so long, even Harry began to feel uncomfortable. But is aunt was not backing down.

"Fine," the headmaster said with a heavy sigh. "But I agree only because I will have members of the Order watching this house at all times. And know this: if they even sense that something is not right with Harry, I will be here within a moment's notice. And I will not be happy if their suspicions prove correct."

The lights above them flickered and dimmed once again. But this time the bulb directly above Dumbledore shattered, plunging their side of the hallway in gloom and casting the headmaster's thin face in eerie shadow. Even the sunshine streaming through the sitting room window seemed to dim into non-existence. Harry could see Dumbledore's flinty blue eyes gleaming in the darkness, reflected in the glass of the family portrait hanging directly behind the Dursley's terrified faces. The site gave him chills.

"Do we understand each other?" Dumbledore murmured quietly from the shadows.

"Y-yes!" Petunia squeaked. "Vernon, get the trunk–"

But before the beefy man could so much as move, the trunk began to float down the hall of its own accord. Harry almost snatched his wand out of the air when it slipped from his pocket, but his fingers clasped into a hard fist at his side as he forced down the vulnerable fear attempting to rise up and choke him. The Dursleys jumped with a yelp as the locks on the cupboard door behind them rattled before unlocking themselves and hopping off of where they hung on the small door. The cupboard opened, and with a final snap as the lid of Harry's trunk closed after making room for his wand, it floated into place inside the small, spider-filled room.

As the locks maneuvered themselves back into place with metallic clinking sounds, the sunlight and the one remaining light in the hall reverted back to normal. Dumbledore turned to Harry and motioned him up the stairs saying, "Let's get you settled." Harry nodded morosely as he trudged up the steps, and he couldn't help feeling like a condemned man walking toward the hangman's noose.

When they reached his old bedroom, he wasn't surprised to see it cluttered and jumbled with boxes and more of Dudley's old, broken things. The mattress was stripped bare and leaning upright against the wall, the bed frame taken apart and laying haphazardly on the floor beside it.

"Allow me," Dumbledore said. And with a quick wave of his wand, the headmaster had banished the boxes and junk cluttering the small room, and the bed had magically put itself back together. In a touching gesture, the headmaster had also added the same pillows and duvet cover that Harry had slept on in Spinner's End. A small pile of books suddenly popped into existence, falling one on top of the other in a neat pile on the end of the bed, and Harry recognized them as the books he had been avidly devouring in Snape's sitting room. Although he appreciated what the headmaster was trying to do, he stood there feeling empty and drained as he took it all in.

Grasping him gently by the shoulders, Dumbledore turned Harry to face him and murmured, "I'm truly sorry about this, Harry. I give you my word that the moment he wakes, I will come to fetch you."

"So youthink he will, sir?"

"Will what, my boy?"

"Awaken…?" A single hot, fat tear slipped out of the corner of Harry's eye and rolled slowly down his cheek.

"Oh, Harry," Dumbledore murmured as he enfolded Harry in his arms. "If there is anything you must know about Severus Snape, it's that he is a fighter. That man has fought his way through impossible odds that no mortal should have survived. If I know him at all – and I count myself lucky to say that I am one of the very few that do – I know that he is fighting hard to get back to you and Lily and Jillian."

And for the first few days, Harry had clung to his words like a buoy in a raging sea. Today, he'll wake up. Today, Dumbledore will come get me and I'll be back with my family. Today… Today…

But three days later, nothing. Not a word.

Harry had known by the first evening that his time at the Dursley's was going south, maybe even on track to getting worse than it ever had been before. His relatives had given him wide berth when he had arrived, too afraid of Dumbledore to carry through on the awful threats they hurled his way. But as the hours passed so too did the memory of Dumbledore's warning. Harry had to admit that he was rather relieved when Uncle Vernon gave him a long list of outdoor chores, as the work kept him outdoors in the sun where he could forget about his horrid relatives for a little while. The chores also kept both his mind and body too exhausted to agonize about anything else, including his dad.

As the sun was setting on that first day, a face he knew well approached him from the shadowy alley across Privet Drive. The bubblegum pink hair gave her away long before she reached Harry.

"Tonks!" he cried, throwing down the large pruning shears in his hands and racing to meet her in the middle of the quiet street.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said with a smile before embracing him in a one armed quick hug. Ruffling his hair when they parted, she said, "I've got the night shift here. I wanted to check on you and see how you were."

"Oh, you know…" Harry said with a shrug, not quite sure what to else to say. "Have you seen Snape? Is he doing alright? Is anyone working on his hands, now that Lily and I–?"

"I haven't been at the hospital since the day before you left, Harry. I'm sorry." She seemed to take pity on him when she saw his crushed expression, so she hurried to say, "But you know, I have another night shift here and then a morning shift with Snape in a few days. Maybe you can write him a letter or something and I could read it to him, let him know you're doing alright–"

"POTTER!"

The angry voice barking his name made both of them jump. His uncle was hanging halfway out the door, his mustache quivering and his face purple with rage.

"What in Merlin's–?" Tonks said in surprise.

But Harry cut her off. "I better go. Thanks, Tonks." And he ran toward his uncle, who ushered him quickly inside before slamming the door and rounding on him.

"How DARE you, you little ingrate! Not even here a full day and you're already causing trouble!"

"What did I do?" Harry asked in surprise. He'd barely even been in the house at all since he'd arrived.

"How dare you draw attention to this house by talking to that – that woman?!" Uncle Vernon approached like an angry tiger, crowding him until Harry started backing fearfully away. But there was nowhere to escape, and his back quickly hit the wall.

"She was just–"

"I know she's one of your ilk! Pink hair, knee-high boots, outrageous clothing! Of course she's one of yours!" His face was so close to Harry's that he could feel the spittle hitting his cheeks, could smell the booze on his uncle's breath.

"I – I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon! It won't happen again!"

"You're damn well right, it won't! You won't be stepping foot outside this house for the rest of the summer!" His uncle roared. He hadn't laid a hand on him, but Harry could tell that he was only barely restraining himself. "Get out of my sight, NOW!"

The truth hit Harry full in the face when he ran into his darkened room and leaned panting against the closed door. Dismayed, he realized that his window not only had had bars on the outside, but now the pane of glass had been completely blacked out with spray paint.

The lock slid into place from the outside of the door, and he listened to his uncle stomp his way back downstairs. My very own prison cell…

Harry wasn't allowed out of his room until late the next afternoon, and that had only been to cook dinner for the family before he was tossed a single bread roll and chased back up the stairs. Harry was grateful for the fact that he'd only been picking at his food in the hospital for the past two weeks, as it prepared him for life back at the Dursley's where he was lucky to get scraps, if anything at all for days on end.

And then there was Dudley…

His cousin must have overheard Dumbledore speaking to Harry that first night and overheard Snape's name. He made no secret of the things he imagined Harry and Snape doing in their time together over the summer. The worst part was that what he said were the exact acts he and his gang had attempted to do to Harry. And although Dudley didn't remember the incident, Harry remembered everything – which only increased his agitation when Dudley gleefully muttered about the foul, disgusting acts. And the more disturbed Harry became, the more pleasure Dudley seemed to take in tormenting him.

Until today when Harry snapped.

Harry had been restless all afternoon, racking his brain for a way to get his letter to Tonks. Uncle Vernon had meant what he said – he and Aunt Petunia had not allowed Harry to step a foot outside since that afternoon, and they were always careful to be around when Harry was near any windows or doors.

Unfortunately Dudley caught sight of Harry sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands. "What's the matter, Potter? Dreaming about your boyfriend? What's his name again? Oh yeah – Snape, right?"

"Don't start, Dudley," Harry warned, not bothering to raise his head. But his cousin just didn't know when to stop.

"Ooo, hit a tender spot, have we? Do you miss Snape's big, throbbing–?"

Harry jumped up from where he was sitting, racing downstairs in an attempt to stop Dudley before he really got started. But Harry-baiting had become Dudley's new favorite past time, and his cousin followed him to the kitchen, all the while taunting, "You do, don't you? I always knew you were a little faggot. So who's usually on top, Potter? I bet you just loved when Snape would bend you over and have his–"

"Shut your disgusting mouth Dudley, before I shut it for you!"

"Ooo, the jealous type, are we? Don't like another man saying dirty things about your boyfriend?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"You know Potter, your lover Snape may not be around, but I'm here to help ease your loneliness. I bet I could teach you a thing or two about how to please–"

He spun on the spot, and Dudley was knocked flat by Harry's fist. Harry jumped on him before he'd thought better of it, repeatedly punching him across his filthy mouth. He took a sick satisfaction from the blood welling across his cousin's features, and didn't stop until he was kicked aside by Dudley's thick, meaty legs.

"I'm going to kick your ass, you little faggot freak!" Dudley screamed when he stumbled to his feet. But Harry was quicker. Jumping up, he ran to the patio door and flung it open with a bang to try and escape his lumbering cousin.

But he wasn't quick enough. Dudley tackled him from behind, landing on top of him hard enough to knock the wind from Harry's lungs. Gasping low, rattling gulps of air into his lungs, Harry tried desperately to crawl away. But Dudley's shadow appeared above, and his cousin kicked him hard in the stomach to roll him over before wailing on his face over and over again. His vision was beginning to fade on the edges as his head was whipped back and forth by the heavy blows.

A sudden scream rent the air, followed closely by the sound of groceries in a paper bag smashing to the floor.

"Dudley! Oh my God, Dudley! What has he done to you?!" Throwing herself to the ground beside her son, Aunt Petunia gently reached out and cupped Dudley's face, turning it this way and that to examine the damage and completely ignoring Harry.

"Mum! He – he attacked me!"

Harry groaned as he rolled to his side, his face throbbing and bleeding freely, his eyes already swelling dramatically.

"I had to defend myself, Mum!"

"Shhh, of course you did, Duddykins. He's a dangerous, evil little freak! Look at what he's done to my poor baby boy!" she cried, choking back a sob. Then as if a switch had been pulled, the tears stopped. Clutching Dudley to her chest she snarled at Harry, "You! Get up to your room this instant! I knew it was a mistake to allow you back here! Vernon will deal with you when he gets home – NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Harry hastened to do as he was told but found it harder than anticipated since his eyes were almost swollen shut. When he finally made it to his darkened room, he slid to the floor and wavered between stages of intense fear that made it almost impossible to draw breath – What if dad never wakes up? What if he was tortured to the point that his mind is broken, like Neville's parents? What is Uncle Vernon going to do to me for bloodying his precious son? – followed by stretches of staring blankly at a smudge on the wall across from him, no longer caring about anything.

Harry was near the point of utter exhaustion when his uncle's car finally pulled into the driveway and his hefty steps walked through the front door. He knew the moment that Uncle Vernon saw Dudley's face, for there was a roar of "What the hell happened?!" followed moments later by heavy footfalls racing up the stairs. Harry scrabbled to his feet, his adrenaline pumping hard and fast through his veins. But no adrenaline surge could prepare him for his uncle's wrath.

Harry's door almost exploded off its hinges as Uncle Vernon burst into the room.

"YOU!" he roared. And then he charged Harry like a rampaging bull. His large, beefy hands wrapped themselves around Harry's neck a split-second before slamming him up against the wall. "I don't care what that old fool said – you laid your filthy hands on my Dudley! I'll kill you! I'LL KILL YOU!"

He punctuated his threats by smashing Harry repeatedly against the wall, using his larger bulk to heft Harry so that his toes scrabbled for purchase below. His eyes bulged as Uncle Vernon's meaty fingers bit into his neck, and his air was cut off with a panicked gurgle. Instincts took over as Harry flailed to free himself, but his uncle's bulk easily outstripped his meager attempts. Just as Harry's body began to go limp and his vision started to dim, Uncle Vernon released him and he collapsed in a heap on the floor, gasping for breath.

His uncle turned and stalked to the door. But before leaving he spun toward Harry and murmured in a low, murderous tone, "I'm going to let Dudley decide what to do with you, you god damn freak. You won't be so cocky then!" And he slammed the door shut with such force that the window rattled hard in its pane and threatened to shatter.

Harry lay where his uncle left him, too weak and afraid to rise. Tears burned hotly down his face as he wrapped his arms around himself, wishing more than anything that he was home, and it was his father's warm, protective embrace that cradled him.

CHAPTER 31

Harry must have collapsed into exhaustion soon after Uncle Vernon's attack, for he woke in the same position crumpled on the floor. His muscles cramped so badly that the simple act of moving brought tears to his eyes. His joints creaked and cracked as he got slowly to his feet, and he swayed in place as the room spun before his rapidly blinking eyes.

Stumbling to his bed, he tried to swallow and realized that his mouth felt as if it were filled with sand. He wished desperately for a glass of water, a wet wash cloth, anything to allow him a sip of liquid and the ability to wipe the crust of dried blood, saliva, and tears from his face… Harry wanted nothing more in that moment than to just feel human again.

That's not true, he realized. I'd do anything to know that my dad is going to be alright…

The thought of his father constricted his throat and made hot tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. But Harry refused to give in to his weakness. Snape was the bravest, strongest man he knew, and he was proud to say that he was his son. Harry was going to honor his father by attempting to be just as strong and brave.

Wiping away his tears, Harry steeled himself before unsteadily rising and stumbling to the door.

Unlocked… Uncle Vernon must have forgotten to deadbolt the door in his angry state last night. Harry said a little prayer of thanks, and asked whatever God was watching for protection when he realized what he was about to attempt.

Harry cracked his door and peered either way down the hall. The other bedroom doors were open, meaning that it must at least be mid-morning, and that the rest of the house was awake. Damn…

Creeping silently out onto the landing, Harry listened hard for any sound that could give him a clue as to where the rest of the Dursleys were in the house. Still and silent as a deer listening for a predator, Harry almost jumped out of his skin when he heard his uncle bark his name. His ears buzzed as he looked around, and it took a few panicked seconds before he calmed enough to realize that the voice had come from downstairs.

"I don't want a homo sleeping in the room next to me, Dad," he heard Dudley say with a strange note of eager excitement tinging his voice. "What if he tried to assault me again, but this time when I was sleeping? You should hear the disgusting things he talks about doing with his boyfriend when you and Mum aren't around." Harry's blood ran ice cold at the lie.

"Has that little faggot touched you, Dudley?!" Uncle Vernon hollered at the implication. "Has he tried to do anything?" Dudley must have nodded his assertion, for his uncle's howl of rage made Harry take a few unsteady steps backward.

"You're not going to tell Mum, are you?" he heard Dudley ask.

"Absolutely not! Your mom wouldn't survive it. I won't ever tell a soul, Dudders. But… You're mum will be coming home soon. So if you want payback for what he's done to you, then it has to be soon."

Uncle Vernon was giving Dudley the chance at revenge.

Oh God…

Frantic, Harry almost decided to race down the stairs in an attempt to reach the front door. But he could already hear them pushing the chairs back from the kitchen table, and knew he would never make it. Instead he spun toward his room, trying to make it back without vomiting all over himself in cold fear.

Harry immediately went to his small dresser, his adrenaline giving him the strength to push it against the other side of the door. He had only just finished pushing it into place when the door opened from the other side, bashing into the soft particle board and making the entire dresser rattle ominously.

"What the–?!" he heard Dudley say. But then his cousin drove his shoulder into it, pushing the dented drawers out of the way without much effort.

The intent was written plainly in his eyes as they raked revoltingly over Harry's trembling form, and Harry again fought the urge to vomit. His cousin's purpose there could not have been clearer.

"You're about to have the time of your life, Potter," Dudley murmured as he closed the door softly behind him.

"And you're about to have the fight of your life," Harry growled, attempting to convince his cousin of a bravery that he definitely did not feel. "Come near me and you'll see exactly what kind of damage my magic can do."

"Your little stick is locked away downstairs, remember?"

"I don't need my wand to defend myself," Harry muttered, squaring up his small frame against his much larger cousin.

Dudley just laughed. The sound chilled Harry to the very marrow of his bones. "Oh, this is going to be fun," he said with a malicious grin.

Don't stop fighting, Harry told himself. Whatever happens… don't stop fighting.

The two of them stared at one another for a long, tension-filled moment. Suddenly Dudley exploded into momentum, lunging at Harry. But Harry used his smaller form to dive underneath his cousin's outstretched arms and dash away to freedom, and amazingly he made it.

As he ran through the doorway, Harry made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder to see if Dudley was behind him. This meant he didn't see Uncle Vernon, parked against the wall beside the door in case his son needed his assistance. Sprinting away from his vile cousin, Harry didn't see his uncle raise his own beefy arm to stop his flight. Harry's neck collided full force with the thickset muscles of his uncle's forearm, and he immediately dropped to the floor as the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Wheezing horribly, Harry's uncle and cousin both sneered down at him as he lay sprawled at their feet.

"There's no getting away, you little faggot freak," Uncle Vernon said with immense satisfaction coloring his voice. "You're going to pay for what you did to my son. It's time to account for everything you've done to this family!" And with that he grasped Harry by the collar and dragged him to his feet.

The stench of booze was strong on his breath, and in his terror Harry made the mistake of crying out, "But what have I done–?"

"DON'T pretend like you don't know, you God damned menace! Everything in our lives has been perfect with you gone! I received a promotion at work, Dudley is the champion of his boxing team, and Petunia was happy enough to stop taking her meds! But not three days after you turn up, I lose my biggest client, Dudley suffers his first defeat, and Petunia is back talking to that quack doctor! I KNOW you had something to do with things going south for us – you and your unnatural ability!" And with that Uncle Vernon shoved him hard enough back into the room that Harry once again landed sprawled on the floor.

"Please Uncle Vernon," he found himself shouting as his uncle closed the door. "I didn't! I SWEAR I didn't!"

But Uncle Vernon merely scowled down at him before locking eyes with his son. "Teach him a lesson he'll never forget, Dudley," he growled. Then he closed the door with a snap.

His cousin was grinning as he hauled Harry up from the ground and threw him facedown onto the bed. "No!" Harry cried as he tried to scramble away. "No, please!" But his pleading fell on deaf ears, and Dudley easily captured his ankles and dragged him backward until Harry was bent over the side of the mattress.

"NO!" Harry screamed, bucking and writhing as panic overwhelmed him.

But his cousin's bulk was immense, and Harry could do nothing to get away. Using his massive weight, Dudley leaned over and easily trapped Harry's body beneath his own. The proof of Dudley's arousal sat hard against Harry's backside, and as he ground his hips against Harry's smaller frame, Harry became a wild animal as he tried to break free.

"GET OFF ME! Dudley, please don't do this! PLEASE!"

"Keep screaming, you fucking freak," Dudley murmured into his ear, fumbling with his pants before reaching down to try and remove Harry's. "It makes it more exciting for me." In a last panicked attempt to free himself, Harry's bloodcurdling screams filled the room.

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

"He sent Harry WHERE?!" Snape bellowed, once again fighting with all his might against his traitorous body as he desperately tried to get vertical. That God damn old fool! What the HELL was he thinking, knowing what he does about that family?! My son, oh God… Harry, I'm coming for you, I'M COMING!

"Professor Snape, stop!" Davies cried, flinging himself forward to grasp the professor by the wrists and struggling to push him back. "You're going to injure yourself even further–"

Snape's struggles halted, but the look he levelled at the young man was enough to wither Lucifer himself.

"Get your hands offme Mr. Davies, or I will destroy you," he growled into the sudden silence.

The boy withdrew his hands as if he'd been burned, and the fear in his eyes as he gazed at his old professor was palpable. But he didn't back away.

"I… I can't let you leave, sir," he attempted to say in a forceful voice. But the words waivered, betraying his apprehension.

"You've always been an intelligent young man, Mr. Davies. It would be a shame to kill you. And make no mistake: I will kill you if you do not get out of my way."

Davies backed up a few steps, the terror in his eyes increasing. But still he refused to leave the room. "Professor, I – I won't try and stop you. But… Where…?"

Snape gave Davies an assessing, calculating look. Deciding that he could trust what he saw, Snape quietly murmured, "I'm going to get my son."

Davies' wide eyes tracked him as he slid from the bed, grasping the metal rails for support as his body swayed dangerously. The world tilted as Snape took the first step toward the door, his legs collapsing from underneath him and sending him careening toward the floor. Diving forward, Davies was able to catch him before he did any damage. When Snape eyed him suspiciously, Davies' gaze hardened on his old professor. "I told you I wasn't going to stop you. I meant it."

After the young man helped steady him, Davies took a few backward steps toward the door, as if worried that Snape would collapse again the moment he left. When he didn't, Davies looked Snape in the eyes as his hand fiddled with the door handle. "That woman, the one who was here… the Auror. I'll – I'll find her, Professor. I'll send her to you and Harry."

"Davies!" Snape called before his old student had a chance to rush off. The young man looked at him quizzically, and with genuine sincerity Snape murmured, "Thank you."

As the door swung closed Snape's eyes roamed the room. His breath hitched as his gaze landed on his wand, the one weapon he knew he could use against the muggles if need be, giving him a fighting chance to rescue his son. Stumbling to the side table where it rested, Snape grasped it gently in his stiff, throbbing fingers.

Already out of breath but refusing to stop, Snape staggered to the spacious area before his bed and prepared to apparate. Knowing the feat would be near impossible in his current condition, he took a moment to close his eyes and focus his mind, breathing deeply as he attempted to quell the pain that continued to rage throughout his body.

Harry… I'm coming…

And with that he turned on the spot and disappeared with a pop!

The fall through space was absolute agony. The normal pressure of apparition became so constricting that Snape feared his bones would be naught but shards and splinters when he finally landed.

He slammed into the ground outside Number Four so hard that he found himself in a piled heap of weakened muscle and aching bones. For a few excruciating moments, Snape feared that he had crushed every bone and snapped every tendon in his body. Finally the constriction eased, and his lungs dragged a gasping, rattling breath deep into his chest. Move, God dammit! His mind screamed at him. You need to get to Harry! But his body refused to obey. He lay helpless in the morning sun on the front lawn of Number Four, his face pressed against the spiky blades of grass and his body twitching as the taste of blood and dirt flooded his mouth.

Suddenly a terrified, hair-raising scream emanated from deep inside the house, muffled by layers of walls and glass.

"Oh my God…" he croaked, struggling to his feet. "HARRY!"

Refusing to allow the pain and dizziness to stop him, he finally made it across the lawn. Falling against the front door, Snape raised his wand to murmur an unlocking spell – but was sickened to see that his wand was no longer in one piece. It must have broken when I landed, he realized in horror. The dark pine had snapped, the shredded core of the dragon heartstring connecting the two halves with a few meager, ragged threads.

At that moment another bloodcurdling scream sounded from the other side of the door.

"HARRY!" Snape screamed.

Wide-eyed, he looked frantically around for something – anything – to use as a weapon. He was so desperate to get to his son that he didn't even notice the magic that began to grow and change inside him.

A sudden rush of adrenaline and something more surged powerfully through his veins, and Snape tossed his broken wand aside as his muscles swelled with an unnatural strength. With a roar he slammed his shoulder against the door, which gave way as if built of no more than matchsticks.

"What in Christ–?!" he heard from the landing above, followed shortly by muffled grunts and thumps from behind one of the bedroom doors. Snape bolted up the stairs, somehow managing to take them four at a time as if he had wings.

"YOU!" The bloated walrus cried, but the hair-raising scream that Snape released as he charged the bigger man had Vernon looking at him with wide, terror-filled eyes. Even with the added strength flowing through Snape, he had a difficult time overcoming the bear of a man who fought with the wild strength of a rampaging bull. Holding him with one hand by the flabby neck, Snape roared as he repeatedly struck the man hard in the face. But Vernon refused to give up, and grabbing his outstretched arm with both hands, ran until he smashed Snape against the wall.

Falling to his knees, Snape had no time to catch his breath before Vernon kicked him hard across the face. The blood poured freely, wet and warm as it streamed from his broken nose and into his mouth. Dark splotches of red misted in a wet spatter against the white walls as Snape coughed and gasped, moaning in pain as he lay on his back.

Panting, his obese opponent came to stand above him, looking down at him in triumph.

"GET OFF ME! Dudley, please don't do this! PLEASE!"

The sound of Harry begging just like Snape used to beg, broke something inside him. He bellowed as his foot shot out to connect with Vernon's knee. With a sickening crunch the huge man collapsed, screaming in agony as his massive bulk carried him crashing down the stairs. He landed with another stomach-churning crunch at the bottom, his skull caved into a deep hollow where it landed head-on against a metal banister.

Weakened and out of breath by his fight with the huge man, Snape stumbled to his feet and staggered down the hallway. Throwing open the door, he felt as if he'd been struck by lightning as he was rooted to the spot by the eerily familiar, disturbing sight before him.

Harry was bent over the mattress with his massive cousin behind him, who was struggling to divest Harry of his denim jeans. His son's face was almost unrecognizable, swollen and covered in dark bruises and dried blood. Dudley was completely exposed as he held both of Harry's hands behind his back, trapped in one of his own.

"I WILL END YOU!"

Snape hadn't realized it was his voice until Dudley glanced behind him with a baffled look on his twisted, ugly face.

"What the fuck?!"

"DAD!" Harry choked out.

With a snarl Snape charged, snaking his arm around Dudley's throat from behind. But his fight with the boy's colossal beast of a father left him drained and weak, and he struggled to drag the huge boy away from Harry. Dudley flailed about, one hand tearing at Snape's tight hold against his neck and the other beating wildly about Snape's face.

Forcing Dudley to his feet, Snape squeezed his forearm tighter around the vile attacker's neck until her heard a choking gurgle. But Dudley used his size to his advantage, throwing himself forcefully backward and sending both he and Snape careening heavily into the dresser. Snape refused to release his hold, even as the mammoth teen bashed him repeatedly into the wall.

Finding purchase on one of Snape's inflamed hands, Dudley jerked severely on his fingers to loosen his hold, causing Snape to cry out in pain. But just as he managed to slip out of Snape's grasp, Harry flung himself onto him before he could attack Snape.

"Harry don't!" Snape yelled, but too late. Dudley easily tossed the smaller boy off him, slamming him into the wall as he proceeded to punch him full force in the jaw. Harry's head lolled like a limp rag doll before he crumpled to the ground.

"HARRY! NO!"

The monstrous teen turned on him, running at him like an American football player and bashing him once again into the broken dresser. The air left Snape's lungs in a whoosh, and he too crumpled to the floor.

Gasping as he lay writhing on his back, Snape wasn't quick enough to escape Dudley's boot heel as he slammed it repeatedly down into his chest and stomach. Rolling over, Snape attempted to crawl away. I have to get to Harry… I have to protect my son… Seeing his advantage, Dudley aimed a furious kick to Snape's head. Stars exploded in front of Snape's eyes as the room threatened to dim into darkness.

"Harry…" Snape moaned, reaching for him.

"I'm going to end you, asshole!" He heard Dudley scream from what seemed like a great distance.

This is it, Snape realized. Please God, just protect my son when he ends it.

Suddenly there was a great commotion in the doorway, a chorus of many voices yelling as the room filled with people. Dudley went still a moment before he fell heavily to the floor with a great thud. But the room continued to darken slowly around Snape. He could barely hear the muffled sounds of people calling his name, and could not make out the faces of those surrounding them. His gaze was locked onto Harry's crumpled, beaten body as he slipped into unconsciousness, no longer caring if he lived or died, as long as his son was safe.

"Harry… Har-ry… Har…"

Albus Dumbledore's wand shook within his trembling fingers as he took in the horrendous scene before him. The horror radiating through body rocked him to his very core, and he suddenly felt every moment of his 116 years of life.

Severus and Harry lay sprawled unconscious on the floor - both loved fiercely enough by Dumbledore to be confused by strangers as his own son and grandson. Both almost unrecognizable beneath their battered and bloody faces. The air left Dumbledore's lungs with a whoosh when he realized that, although these heinous injuries had not been caused with his own two hands, they may as well have been.

This is all my fault...

Severus and Harry were completely oblivious to their rescuers and the chaos of the triage being preformed on them, for which Dumbledore was exceedingly grateful. He wouldn't want either of them awake during this horrific moment, and knew that neither would take well to being nursed or fussed over.

Dumbledore was exceptionality grateful that Harry was unconscious and therefore spared any fear or humiliation their presence would cause. Trying to calm his frantically beating heart, Dumbledore cast a shaky glance around the room. It was obvious what had happened, and a surreptitious look at Harry and his cousin told Dumbledore all he needed to know.

The bigger boy was completely exposed from the waist down, and even though it looked as if Harry had put up quite a fight, it clearly hadn't been enough; Harry was nearly disrobed, as well.

Only moments after receiving the panicked patronus message from Nymphadora, Dumbledore had apparated directly to St. Mungo's. His pounding heart threatening to burst from his chest, he had charged past an agitated Tonks and Roger Davies, both of whom were talking over each other in their frantic attempt to explain to him what had happened. As he stood in Severus' empty hospital room, there was little doubt as to where the man had gone. He'd immediately ordered Tonks to gather a rescue party of members from the Order and meet him at Privet Drive, then turned to Roger and pleaded with the boy not to say a word to anyone. The last thing they needed was a group of Death Eaters meeting them on the muggles' doorstep.

Tonks had immediately reached out to those at the Ministry she knew they could trust: Alastair Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Arthur Weasley. There wasn't time to wait for others.

The rescue party had gotten there just in time. The scene that met Dumbledore's eyes was one that would haunt him to his grave, chilling him to the very marrow of his bones each and every time he remembered...

Severus, beaten to within an inch of his life, reaching for the unconscious body of his bloodied son as Dudley stood poised above him, ready to deliver a killing blow. And Harry... The boy must have experienced absolute terror during the beating in which he received those horrific injuries. The thought of what had almost happened made Dumbledore's gut violently clench and churn, and he felt a cold sweat break out over his aged, papery-thin skin as he swallowed back the urge to retch.

Good God in Heaven, I did this! I sent my precious boys directly into this Hell!

Dumbledore's vision suddenly went black at the edges. His breathing hitched and his body began to tremble and weaken.

"Albus?" Kingsley's voice was tinged with alarm.

The small room was crowded and noisy as they hurried to heal as much as they could. But at Kingsley's obvious distress they all suddenly went silent, turning to stare at Dumbledore with wide eyes. The headmaster was in shock, it seemed. He hadn't moved, hadn't even dropped his wand to his side since entering the small room.

Dumbledore's chest constricted as his breaths began to come in quickened, panicked gasps.

I did this! If they don't survive, the deaths of my family members will once again be on my head...

Sudden understanding hit Kingsley like a punch to the gut, and with frantic movements he was able to conjure a pillowed armchair to catch the headmaster only seconds before Dumbledore collapsed.

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

Snape came awake slowly, his awareness struggling to the surface as if it were trapped in cold molasses.

"Har…ry…"

He didn't recognize the raspy, croaky voice as his. It took him a moment to realize that someone was there next to him, and that soft, delicate fingers were entwined within his own.

"Severus?" she murmured softly.

"Lily..." He murmured in relief. His eyelids were incredibly heavy, but he forced them open so he could look upon her beautiful face. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked drained and exhausted. But she was still the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on.

"Oh, Severus." Tears thickened and clogged her voice. "Thank God." Grasping his hand with both of her own, she lifted it and placed a gentle, tender kiss against his stiff, swollen fingers. He could feel the wetness of the tears upon her lips.

Snape attempted to rise, but her hand against his chest stalled him. "Don't," she said softly. "I'll get him." And she hurried to the doorway of the unknown room and called, "Harry, come quickly!"

Harry… Snape thought, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to prevent the sudden tears from falling. My boy is safe. Thank you, God.

And suddenly there he was, followed close behind by little Jilly.

My family.

Looking upon their faces – all of them safe and together once more – something deep inside him broke, and he choked back a sob as the tears flowed freely down his face.

"Dad…" His son's voice sounded as if he didn't trust what he was seeing. Harry's features were mottled with old, yellowing bruises, the blood that had covered them now gone to show only a few healing cuts.

He's safe… My son is safe.

Harry began to cry as he stumbled to the bed and threw himself onto his father's chest. As Harry buried his face into his shoulder, Snape closed his eyes and wrapped the boy tightly in his arms. Together they lay trembling and tear-stained, finding comfort from their horrific ordeal in the other's embrace.

Snape was unaware how long they stayed like that, but when he opened his eyes both Lily and Jillian had quietly gone. Harry gazed at him with wet, spiky lashes, tears continuing to dampen Snape's shirt where he'd let his cheek fall against it. Snape used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the wetness as he cupped his son's cheek.

"Are you ok?" he softly asked the boy.

"I…" Harry swallowed audibly.

Seeing his son's unease and knowing full well the turmoil of emotions he was going through, Snape wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close once again. "I know," he murmured as his swollen hands traveled in comforting motions through Harry's hair and over his back. "I know."

A long, silent moment passed heavily between them.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Harry asked against his chest.

"Tell you what, son?" Snape asked, continuing to make soothing motions with his swollen hands.

"About what your father did to you."

Snape's movements stilled, and he felt himself stiffen as his gaze suddenly sharpened and a loud buzzing sounded in his ears.

What? How did…?

Harry raised his head, his green eyes piercing as they gazed sadly down at him. And suddenly Harry was gone, replaced a particularly henious memory of his Snape's father brutalizing Snape as a boy.

Harry was showing him the dark, ugly truth that Severus had tried so hard to protect him from.

Horror and sorrow warred within him at the thought that he had unconsciously planted such a vicious memory inside his son's mind. It was a horrible burden to carry, one that he'd tried desperately to conceal from the world. And yet after all that, he'd still failed to hide it from Harry, the one person who'd had enough torment to last three lifetimes.

Confronted with his own demons, Snape suddenly found it difficult to draw breath. He couldn't meet Harry's gaze, instead looking through the window at a sea of green hills when he murmured, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, Harry." The words sounded choked as he forced them over the hard lump in his throat.

But his son – his loving, forgiving, compassionate boy – looked down at him in confusion. His brows furrowed together as he murmured, "But… you were there for me."

It didn't seem to matter to Harry that Snape was tainted goods. For some unfathomable reason, he didn't care that his father's weakness had been the cause that sent Harry back to those evil muggle Devils.

I wasn't there to protect him. I let him down when he needed me most. But still he doesn't hate me.

Snape couldn't help but feel amazed that this tragic, tender soul who had every right to despise him actually loved him enough to offer his forgiveness and understanding, without even realizing the magnitude of those gifts.

"You saved me, Dad."

He searched his son's face. "No, Harry. I think that from the moment you walked through the castle doors so long ago… you saved me."

. . . . .

Sometime later Lily reappeared, and a warm smile spread across her face as her gaze met Snape's over the top of Harry's slumbering form. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she padded quietly over to the side of the bed and ran her fingers through Harry's hair as he slept.

"He was so worried about you," she murmured after a moment, removing Harry's glasses and placing them on the bedside table, then gazing down at the boy as if he were her own. She was more beautiful to Snape in that moment than she ever had been before.

"Harry has barely left your side these past few days. He was more ghost than boy when he came home - his voice was hollow, his eyes were empty... He was..." She searched for the right word, "Broken." Snape closed his eyes as his arms tightened around his son and his mind whispered, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault...

But Lily's voice stirred Snape from his guilty reverie before it could truly begin to take hold. "This morning... Something changed. It was as if something deep inside recognized that you were coming back to us. He smiled at me. And then heasked if we could have pancakes for breakfast." Her eyes shone tenderly down at Harry before she murmured, "He and Jilly were in the kitchen when you woke up, making your recipe. It was like..." Her gaze searched Snape's own before she finished in a whispered hush, "Magic."

In that moment, with his son safe in his arms and the woman he loved at his side, Snape knew a blessed, sacred peace. For the first time in his life, he felt wholly and utterly complete.

. . . . .

Harry slept like the dead for hours, as only those who have known the deepest mental strain but had it suddenly melt away can do. He never moved, and Snape was happy to let him slumber on with his arm resting gently around him. Nothing can happen to him as long as he is in my arms...

Lily came to check on them every so often, smiling tenderly whenever her loving gaze met his own content look. It was as the sun was nearing its highest peak in the sky that Snape's eyes finally closed and he slipped into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

His eyes opened slowly sometime later to a darkening space and voices in the next room. Harry must have woken and slipped from the room while Snape was sleeping, for he was nowhere in sight.

Feeling hungrier than he could ever remember, Snape gingerly slid his legs to the edge of the bed, only releasing the breath he didn't realize he was holding when he was steadily on his feet. Although he was still weak, the feeling was nothing like when Snape had woken in St. Mungo's, and he couldn't suppress his relief when he was able to move gingerly around without incident.

The door was slightly ajar, and with a frustrated sigh he admitted that he was having trouble using his hands to lift the robe down from the hook behind it. Feeling extremely foolish, he finally got it down and slipped his arms through, deciding to leave it untied as he walked out to his family.

The room he entered was large and round, he noted curiously. Through the large windows Snape could see a beautiful sunset over the lake with miles of Scottish highlands behind it, and he decided they must be in one of the towers.

Snape rounded the corner and smiled to himself at the view before him. Jillian and Harry were sitting in front of the massive fire place, playing a friendly, giggly game of gobstobes. And there in an overstuffed armchair reading an old, magical textbook on medicinal potions and techniques, was Lily. Behind her were multiple bookshelves lining the walls, the shelves completely full of many different titles.

Not like my old library, but it's a start...

Jillian spied him first. "Severus!" she cried, jumping up and running to him. Harry flashed a bright smile, but was slower to rise. Lily came to help him to his feet before they too came to Severus' side.

"Hi Jilly-Bean," Snape murmured with a warm smile, gently patting the young girl on the back of her head when she threw her arms around his legs. "I've missed you.

"I missed you too, Severus," she said, her bright face shining up at him. "I came to see you every day. Did you hear us reading to you? Madam Pomfrey said it was our responsibility to keep your mind busy. Harry and I took turns."

Snape glanced at his son in question, and as their eyes met, Harry yet again used legitimacy to show him without words. A scene flashed in his minds eye. Harry and Jilly were on the sickbed beside him while he was still unconscious, one on either side as they read aloud from a book propped up before them. As Jilly passed the book to Harry, he caught a glimpse of the title: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll. Snape had read it as a young boy before Hogwarts, even before he'd met Lily. He recalled the feeling of wishing he could escape with Alice down, down, down through the rabbit hole… Strangely, the memory didn't pain him or cause any panic like it once had.

"You know, I do think I remember," he murmured with a smile. "Something about a smoky caterpillar and a Mad Hatter."

"Yes!" Jilly cried in excitement. "We were reading all about Alice's adventures in Wonderland!" Her face suddenly sobered. "Were you in Wonderland, Severus? Is that why you couldn't wake up?"

He ran his swollen fingers through her hair as a sad smile crossed his face. Thinking of everything he'd fought against to get his family back, he murmured, "I was fighting the evil Red Queen."

She gasped and her eyes widened. "Did you win?" She whispered.

Love for his children overflowed his battered soul as Snape looked at both of them and whispered back, "I did."

At that moment the floo flared to life, and Poppy Pomfrey walked through the flames. A happy smile lit her lined face as she gazed at the four of them.

"It's wonderful to see you back amongst the living, Severus. You've had us all very worried over the past few weeks." He acknowledged her kindness with a nod, as the floo flared to life again behind her.

Dumbledore unfolded his long frame from the emerald flames, followed closely behind by a woman Snape did not recognize.

"Albus, look how well he's doing!" Poppy called enthusiastically. As she shared a happy smile with Lily, she missed the dark look that passed over Snape's features as he gazed at the older wizard. Dumbledore met his glare with sad, steady eyes. He, too, looked drained and exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his skin had acquired new lines. It looked so thin as to make his face appear almost skull-like in the dim light of the setting sun.

The headmaster seemed to know that Snape blamed him for Harry's ordeal, and did not shy away from the rage radiating from the younger man. Indeed, he seemed to feel that the anger was well-deserved. To Snape he suddenly looked younger like a lost child, and older like a veteran that had seen too many wars, all at the same time.

"Ouch!" Harry suddenly cried, rubbing at his scar.

"Are you alright, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, and Snape had to fight down an urge to snap at the man not to speak to his son. His eyes rested upon Harry inquiringly.

"M'fine," Harry murmured. "It's... nothing serious," he said meaningfully. Snape took a mental note to speak to Harry later, wanting to know for sure if they were 'nothing major'.

After a moment, Dumbledore turned his heavy blue gaze back to Snape. "I'm glad to see that we have not interrupted your much-needed rest, Severus," He spoke quietly. "But when Dr. Gunderson heard that you were awake, she came from St. Mungo's directly."

With effort, Snape swallowed back the scathing retort on the tip of his tongue and turned his attention to the the doctor. She was an older woman with rectangular spectacles, perhaps Minerva's age, whose confident, smooth movements belied her advancing years.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," the doctor spoke, moving forward and readjusting a heavy black doctor's bag in order to offer a small, but strong hand. Snape's fingers were still incredibly sore, and he appreciated the obvious care she took not to further injure his swollen appendage as she shook his hand. "My name is Dr. Gunderson. I specialize in neurology, and have been working on your case since you were first brought to St. Mungo's. I'm actually well acquainted with your family," she said with a warm smile directed at Harry, Lily, and Jillian. "They were all great assistants in your physical therapy routine while you were with us."

"It's nice to see you again, Dr. Gunderson," Lily said with a genuine smile. Noticing that the living room was getting rather crowded, she continued, "Would everyone like to take a seat? I'll be happy to put on a pot of tea."

"Thank you, Lily," Dr. Gunderson said with a smile. "That would be wonderful. May I request that we sit at the kitchen table, Professor Snape? I need to take a look at those hands, and good lighting will help."

"Jilly," Harry muttered, "Why don't we finish our game while they work?" But the boy was unable to hide his nervousness behind the smile he gave the girl. His eyes flicked toward Dr. Gunderson, who gave him a friendly nod.

As they settled across the table from each other, Dr. Gunderson continued to look upon Harry before she quietly murmured, "Roger Davies explained why you left the hospital in such a hurry. I'm relieved to hear that Harry is back with you, where he belongs."

"I appreciate the sentiment," Snape quietly replied, also gazing over at his son.

As Lily came to stand beside them, he was amazed to see her take out her wand and easily produce a delicate, beautiful china pot filled with tea. "Dumbledore taught me," she said with a half smile. But as she poured the first cup, she realized it was lacking the proper amount of steam. Lily made an impatient noise, saying, "I just can't seem to get the temperature right."

"It's the flourish at the end," Snape explained, slipping easily back into teaching mode. "There's a twist that takes some practice. Here, I can show you." Without thinking he reached for her wand, only to have it clatter to the floor due to the pain that shot through his joints when he attempted to grasp the wood between his fingers.

With a dismissive wave and a quick peck on the cheek as she scooped her wand off the floor, Lily tried to put him at ease. "It's alright. We'll work on it."

Snape gazed out the large window beside the small breakfast nook, watching the setting sun and trying to fight the frustration with himself and his inability to complete even the simplest tasks that involved his hands. He could feel Dr. Gunderson's eyes on him, but refused to meet her gaze.

The silence lingered at the table, broken only by the sounds of Jilly and Harry laughing softly as they continued their game.

Finally, Snape spoke into the silence, still scrutinizing the view out the window and refusing to meet anyone's gaze. "My hands did not pain me at all when I arrived at the Dursley's. Strange, because they were agonizing when I awoke in St. Mungo's. Now, however..." His challenging look landed on Dr. Gunserson's unblinking, understanding one. "It hurts to even move them."

"I see," Dr. Gunderson murmured, and her look changed from one of understanding to one of determination. She removed her wand from an inside pocket.

"Harry tells me that you're a potions master, Professor," she said conversationally, as she gently slid her hand beneath one of his own and raised it carefully off the table. Snape merely nodded. "I'm astonished," Dr. Gunderson continued as she performed an intricate bit of wand work. "You're so young – it normally takes a century or so of study to achieve master status."

As she continued her wand work, a warmth spread throughout Snape's hand and certain areas from his wrist to the tips of his fingers began to glow. "Have you worked on anything I might know?"

"Perhaps," Snape quietly replied. "I recently modified the Wolfsbane Potion to prevent–"

"–The victim from losing their awareness during the transformation. They become a warewolf but retain their human faculties and emotions." She turned his hand this way and that, examining his stiff movements and gently touching her wand to different points on Snape's skin. "That was a very skilled bit of potioneering. I'm impressed." She repeated the entire process on Snape's other hand and continued, "It's a shame that the ingredients to that particular potion are so costly. It could help a lot of people."

"I'm currently testing in an attempt to replace ingredients to those that are more widely available for specifically that reason," Snape responded. "Or, I was before all of this..."

"Well," Dr. Gunderson replied, placing his hand gently back on the table and finally meeting his eyes. "The good news is that you will eventually gain back full dexterity of your fingers."

Snape only cocker a brow, and she continued, "You were lucky – your magical core projected enough strength to allow you to get your son back. But I must say, those muggles must have put up quite a fight, because you severely inflamed your injuries; your core magic may even have unintentionally worsened them. I'm not sure how well they will respond to standard magical treatment after being flooded with that amount of core power. I don't want to take any risks – we've taken too many as it is. And gaining your dexterity and movement back is vital in your line of work. So I'm afraid we'll have to do this the old fashioned, muggle way.

"Madam Pomfrey," she said, glancing at the matron. "I will give you the movements and exercises that I wish the Professor to complete three times a week. I still want to see him once a month to check his progress. And Lily my dear," she said, turning to face her. Lily had a resolute look on her face as the doctor continued, "You will be a great asset in his recovery, with your experience working in muggle hospitals. But I must warn you, Professor," she intoned, her eyes glancing severely at Snape over the rims of her spectacles, her expression deadly serious. "It may take six months, or even up to a year for your fingers to regain their former responsiveness. In the meantime, I must insist that you refrain from any delicate work that you would normally do with your hands – that includes brewing potions and prepping ingredients, I'm afraid."

There was a long pause as all in attendance absorbed her words. Harry broke the silence from across the living room, his game with Jillian suddenly forgotten.

"But…" He uttered, sounding dumbfounded, "He teaches Potions! And he – he brews healing balms and treatments for the hospital wing!" His son jumped from the floor and rushed to his father's side, the guilt clear in his eyes. "Dad, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault–"

"Harry. Stop." Snape cut him off in the firmest tone he could muster, refusing to allow his son to take the burden of guilt upon himself. "I don't care about my hands. I would have gladly hacked them off myself to get to you." When his son still looked as if he wanted to argue the point, Snape attempted a comforting tone and said, "It's alright. We'll figure something out."

. . . . .

Shortly after giving her diagnosis, Dr. Gunderson was escorted by Madam Pomfrey to the mediwitch's office to discuss treatments and therapies for Snape's hands. Dumbledore had been close on their heels with some feeble excuse about vital work that needed to be completed. Snape had the feeling that the headmaster simply wasn't ready to deal with his livid potion master.

Snape say at the table, continuing to stare out the window as he contemplated his future. No potions for the next few months... Where exactly did that leave him? And not only that, but his stomach clenched at he thought about the Unbreakable Vow he had made with Narcissa Malfoy... He had yet to speak to Dumbledore about that, and after everything that had happened with Harry, he was almost angry enough to follow through with with the terms he had agreed to. Sighing deeply, Snape continued to brood on his life, which had somehow become even more complicated than it was before.

Lily suddenly interrupted Snape's dark musings. Although she affected an air of ignorance, he had a feeling that she knew exactly what she was doing when she placed her arms around his shoulders from behind and asked, "Would you like a tour of our new quarters?"

It was a large space, obviously created for someone with children. Snape supposed that the thought of someone bringing their extended family to Hogwarts wasn't too out of the ordinary - he remembered a teacher from his time here at Hogwarts that had a wife and three young children that used to accompany him to the castle during the school year. He never gave it much thought where they stayed, but now he realized it very well could have been here.

The quarters were spacious with round walls and high, vaulted ceilings. There was a large kitchen connected to the sitting room, with large windows that offered amazing vistas from all sides. Down a small hallway was Jillian's room, with a large, ornately carved canopy bed and plenty of space to play. The room after that was a modest guest room with yet another canopy bed, which Harry had been using since his arrival. Snape's sickroom was next to Harry's. There was a small bathroom at the end of the hall, and across the hall from the other bedrooms was the master suite.

"I have to admit, this is my favorite room of them all," Lily said, her eyes shining.

Snape could immediately understand why. The room was large with its own wooden canopy bed on a raised dais, as well as a writing desk and a small seating area overlooking the mountains and lake. Snape didn't get to admire the view for long however, as Lily excitedly grasped his hand and pointed upwards. It was only then that Snape realized that, like the Great Hall, it too had an enchanted ceiling.

"Dumbledore said he thought Jilly and I would appreciate the space in these quarters," Lily murmured, still staring up at the puffy clouds through the enchanted ceiling. "But really I think he remembered how much I loved the ceiling in the Great Hall." Her beautiful green eyes flicked to Snape's subdued black ones. "I know that technically you and Harry have your own places to stay during the school year. And I know that you have a role that you have to play around everyone else. But maybe..." She blushed prettily. "Maybe we can be a proper family on weekends. And you can come stay whenever you'd like, like at night when-"

Snape leaned over and kissed her full, sweet lips, cutting her off. "Is that all I am to you?" He asked quietly after a moment as he pulled away. His voice was serious but his eyes were filled with mischief. "A quick romp in the night?"

Lily smiled coyly, her eyes dancing. "I can find a replacement if you'd like. There are plenty of other-"

Snape kissed her again.

Snape brooded for days, taking meals alongside his family and refusing to leave Lily's quarters. He wanted to avoid displaying the weakness in his hands to his nosy, overly-intrusive peers. Or at least, that's what he tried to tell himself.

But as usual, Lily was able to see through his rationalizations with a single discerning look. This afternoon when he requested - yet again - to eat with the family in the tower, Snape noticed that although she didn't look at him, he saw Lily's body tense for the space of a heartbeat. It was not worth the migraine, he explained, that would surely be evoked by having to suffer through the attention of their dunderhead coworkers. Or worse, he thought to himself, have to see the pity in their eyes as I struggle to feed myself like an infant.

Turning to face him, Lily cocked her head and shrewdly narrowed her eyes for a long moment. "You know, giving Dumbledore the silent treatment is just as pointless as asking Hagrid to swap pants with Professor Flitwick."

Snape pressed his lips together in a thin line, evoking a very McGonagall-esque expression while attempting not to smile. He had a very vivid mental picture of Hagrid's big toe dressed in Flitwick's trousers, while the minuscule professor tried to escape a sea of fabric, dragging it behind him like the train of an extremely hairy, ugly wedding gown.

Snape couldn't be sure in that moment if he wanted to throttle Lily for knowing him so well when he treasured his privacy, or kiss her senseless for understanding his complicated moods.

"Sev, I'm behind you no matter what you do," she said quietly. "But it's time for you to decide if Dumbledore's faults where Harry is concerned are too disastrous to forgive."

A few minutes later, Snape had been unceremoniously kicked from the tower and was on his way to see the headmaster. He was constantly reminded of what he'd almost lost every time he looked upon his son, and as such still didn't trust his ability to keep calm around the man.

So in an attempt to calm his simmering rage, Snape made an abrupt turn toward his office. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, as up to this point he still wasn't even sure what he'd be doing when term started. It's not as if I'll be teaching Potions... He thought, somewhat bitterly.

Snape briefly considered the position that was open yet again this year since the students had driven The Toad to an early retirement. Umbridge's undoing had mainly been thanks to the Weasley twins, he thought sullenly. I'll have to remember to thank them.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was the one teaching position that students believed Snape wanted badly enough to kill for. He couldn't help the satisfied smirk that crossed his features when he thought of all the scandalous whispers he'd heard throughout the years. Snape himself had been the one to start that particular rumor all that time ago, when he had first switched allegiances and tuned spy for Dumbledore. He'd needed a believable cover story that the Dark Lord would accept without question - and the idea that Dumbledore would be cautious enough to keep Snape away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was surely that.

In all honesty, Snape wanted nothing to do with teaching DADA. Although he excelled in the subject, it no longer held the appeal it once had when he was a bullied teenager longing for revenge. Not only that, but he was well aware that the Dark Lord would be much more interested in his day-to-day activities here at Hogwarts if he began teaching the subject, and would have many ideas about how to gain sway over the young, impressionable minds here. The last thing he needed was the Dark Lord constantly looking over his shoulder in the one place he felt somewhat in control of his own life.

Potions had always been the perfect solution - a safe haven for Snape, and a foolproof way to offer 'inside information' on Dumbledore while at the same time keeping the Dark Lord apathetic enough to allow him freedom of movement at the school.

But now he may not have a choice. If he wanted to stay at Hogwarts he may be forced to teach DADA, as his hands were getting better thanks to his physical therapy sessions. He now could lightly grasp a wand, although the intricate finger and wrist movements needed to cast spells were still extremely difficult, and thus he usually ended up dropping it.

Snape grimaced as he admitted that he did indeed need to meet with Dumbledore, as it would be crucial to discuss how they would explain this new turn of events in such a way so as not to blow his cover.

But Snape wasn't looking forward to sitting across from the man that was responsible for his son's near-miss with the Devil. Stalling in an attempt to give himself more time to prepare for that dreaded moment, he finally arrived outside his office door. Placing his contorted hand upon the rough wood, Snape murmured the same string of Latin incantations that had unlocked the wards at Spinner's End. The planks glowed beneath his swollen palm and the door opened with a soft snick.

He shouldered his way into the room, stopping just inside the doorway to take stock of the small office and all its supplies. Snape's sharp gaze traversed the rows of glass jars and bottles, quickly alighting on something that didn't belong: his wand, laying perfect and pristine on his desk as if he had only ever imagined the dark wood snapping in half.

What…?

Relief and confusion warred within his brain. He'd felt naked these past few days without his wand, on edge as if he was going to be attacked at any moment, and grief-stricken as if he'd lost a close friend.

He ran his fingertips almost lovingly over the familiarly worn bumps and grooves of the thin wooden stick, and only noticed the other item laying beneath it when his caress made the paper crunch beneath his swollen hand. It was a folded newspaper – grayish and dingy like old worn socks – doubled back to a particular page and obviously placed there for him to find. Curiously, none of the pictures plastered across the page moved.

His eyes scanned the page in his hand for a long moment. Suddenly Snape's heart stopped in his chest, and his gaze narrowed dangerously upon a picture of the filthy abuser muggles that he'd hoped he'd never have to see again. 'LOCAL TEEN KILLS FATHER IN DRUG-FUELED RAGE', the title screamed up at him from above the picture.

Snape was riveted by some twisted sense of morbid curiosity. His mind revolted at the sight of them, but he wouldn't have been able to look away had the Dark Lord himself barged in and started firing Unforgivables his way:

Dudley Dursley, 16, a local teenager from Little Whinging, Surrey, murdered his father Vernon Dursley Tuesday afternoon in what officials are saying was a drug-induced fit of rage.

"It looks as if the two of them entered into a physical altercation, and Mr. Dursley suffered a severe head trauma, which ultimately killed him," an anonymous source from the Surrey police department says. "We've come to the conclusion that drugs were involved, after young Mr. Dursley tested positive for an unknown substance and an anonymous community tip led us to the young man's drug flat. The flat was raided, and the rest of his gang have been arrested for Class A drug trafficking, as well as possession with intent to distribute."

Members of the gang were also implicated in a string of rapes that have recently taken place in the area on both men and women young and old. "These people were animals," continued our source. "It wasn't about sexual gratification – it was a bid to instill terror throughout the community so there would be no resistance over their impending drug business."

When asked what kind of drugs were found, all our anonymous source would say is, "Whatever that stuff was, I'm glad we were able to get it off the streets. [The deceased] had over eleven stone on his son, and the extent of his injuries looked as if he'd jumped in front of a moving bus. I wouldn't want to answer a call with people high on drugs that allowed them to do that to our local law enforcement."

The body was found by Mrs. Petunia Dursley, wife of the deceased and mother of the perpetrator, when she arrived home later that afternoon. Neighbors reported they could hear her screams as far as three streets over.

Mrs. Dursley was taken to the local hospital, but was later transferred to West Park Mental Hospital in Epsom, Surrey when police arrived and she was unable to give an accurate account of what had happened. "The woman must have snapped," our source tells us. "Husband dead, son in the process of overdosing on his drugs upstairs... She was babbling about all kind of things - black magic, teachers from some pretend school who were out to get the family. She even went as far as blaming her husband's death on a fictitious family member that we could find no trace of. None of the neighbors we spoke to ever saw anyone other than the three Dursleys living there."

Mrs. Arabella Figg, a neighbor living across the street from the Dursleys, tells us that she had suspected that teenager Dudley was up to no good for some time. "The boy was a menace within the neighborhood," she says. "He was coming and going at all hours of the night, and could be downright scary if you crossed him. I'm not surprised something like this happened... Not surprised at all."

When our source was asked if the community had anything to fear, we were told, "The Surrey PD doesn't think so. This looks like an isolated incident, as both the drugs and the gang were taken off the streets before they could do any more harm. Nevertheless, we are still searching for any victims they may have attacked before the police knew of their existence within our quiet community. We ask anyone who has any information to please come forward and help us put these young men in prison where they belong."

Dudley Dursley and the other members of the gang are scheduled to be arraigned on Thursday on drug charges and multiple counts of rape.

Snape stared down at the page, the last word of the article screaming up at him in its horrifying simplicity. Rape. Harry was almost raped. That word didn't even begin to explain the exquisite, lifelong anguish that it brought upon its victims. Harry's petrified pleas echoed through his brain, mingling with horrifying memories from Snape's own childhood, of whimpers and screams and nights filled with terror.

Suddenly it was no longer the memory of a young Snape and his evil father that flashed through his mind. Instead those disturbing images had morphed into Harry and his demented, horrific cousin.

Snape's vision filled and twisted into an ugly shade of red. The blood pounded through his ears as a grotesque rage overtook his every nerve ending and sent him into a spiraling fury. His rage focused on one single point, and it echoed painfully, repeatedly throughout his mind.

Dumbledore. This was his fault.

How DARE he send my boy directly into the jaws of Hell?!

Snape was moving before he'd even thought about doing so. It began as a brisk walk, but by the time he reached the dungeon steps, he was practically running in his haste to confront the old fool. His rage propelled him faster through the stone hallways and up the staircases until he was standing before the ugly gargoyle sentinel. Heavy breaths tore through his lungs, and Snape wasn't sure if it was because of his frantic pace throughout the castle or his burning rage to confront the headmaster.

Realizing that he didn't know the password, Snape forced his body to calm as he closed his eyes and took deep breaths through his nose. He would need his wits about him if he didn't want to be talked into one of Dumbledore's traps.

Guilt suddenly rose within him, cutting quietly through his anger like an ancient water serpent through a Scottish loch. It tried to convince him that his rage was unwarranted. The headmaster has done so much for Harry. And for me. The decisions he makes, no matter how faulty, are always well-intentioned. It's all for the greater g–

"NO!" Snape hissed out loud as his eyes flew open. He fiercely crushed the urge to see things from the old fool's point of view. "The man almost got Harry killed! I will not feel guilty, dam–!"

But he was stopped dead in his tracks, as the gargoyle had suddenly leapt to life when he uttered the word, 'guilty'.

The water serpent in Snape's mind attempted once again to get his attention and whisper how odd that fact was. In all sixteen years that I have taught here, Dumbledore has never had anything other than sweets as his passwords. Why would 'guilty' be…? But Snape cruelly wrenched his thoughts away and paid the niggling worry no heed.

Rushing up the spiraling staircase, he burst through the door at the top without bothering to knock. The headmaster sat hunched in his throne-like chair behind his desk, looking worn and deeply exhausted, and seeming older than Snape could ever remember seeing him. His lined face was grave, his brows drawn into a troubled expression, and he never took his gaze from the window and the sweeping views below. He was quiet for long moments, and as Snape stood still and silent on the threshold, he began to wonder if Dumbledore even realized he was there.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Dumbledore suddenly muttered into the silence.

He didn't even have the decency to look Snape in the eye, and instead continued to gaze morosely out the window. The sight of his self-pity when Harry was the one that had been most affected was almost too much for Snape to handle.

"Sorry for what exactly, Headmaster?" He replied in an icy, dangerous tone. He wanted nothing more than to slam the door, and only just managed to close it softly behind him. "Sorry about the fact that my house burned down, and all my worldly possessions along with it?" He stalked slowly, menacingly forward. "Sorry that Bellarix crippled my hands badly enough that I will not be able to teach for a full school year?" Reaching the desk, he leaned painfully forward onto his ruined fingers, not caring about the ominious cracks he heard as he loomed threateningly over the old man. "Or are you sorry for sending my son back into the Devil's lair with those sick, twisted muggles?!"

Dumbledore finally deigned to look up at him, although the movement was sluggish and drawn out. As their gazes connected, the headmaster suddenly seemed extremely feeble and frail, and for some reason Snape wanted nothing more than to attack him.

"You're absolutely right, Severus," Dumbledore replied meekly, staring up at Snape like a pathetically useless pet, long past its prime and needing nothing more than to be put down. "Harry was not safe there - I should have seen it. Instead, I sent him to a prison where he was beaten, bloodied, and abused. There is no excuse for what I did to him. I may as well have inflicted his injuries myself."

Snape's entire body began to tremble as his vision tinged with red. "Don't you dare sit there and pretend that his suffering means anything to you!" He snarled, and Dumbledore flinched as if Snape had struck him. "You, who always encourage Harry to dash headlong into danger, even if it means heinous injury or death. As long as he dies in the name of 'the greater good', then Harry is nothing more than a sacrificial lamb to you! SO DON'T SIT THERE AND INSULT ME BY PRETENDING OTHERWISE!"

Snape couldn't stand to be in the man's presence a moment longer. Storming to the mantle place, he almost knocked the container of floo powder off its stand as he tried multiple times unsuccessfully to scoop the green, glittery powder into his stiff palm.

Finally able to cup a small bit between his fingers, he yelled out, "Lily Prewett's quarters!" And with a glare at the headmaster that burned worse than the scorching flames of Hell, he was gone.

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

Dumbledore was unable to sit there a second longer, and he upended his chair with a clatter in his haste to flee the confines of the room that seemed to be shrinking by the moment. Hurrying up the stairs to the castle ramparts above his quarters, the headmaster stood as still as the stone beneath his feet while a sudden, punishing summer storm began to tear at his robes and hair.

It's as if the wind is trying to shove me over the edge, he thought. Perhaps I should let it...

Dumbledore was usually not prone to fits of self-loathing, always knowing exactly why and how he was needed within the universe's master plan. But after these past few days, and especially after this, he couldn't help thinking that Severus might be right in his harsh opinion of his motives; perhaps he had allowed his constant battle for 'the greater good' to cloud his judgment.

The thing Dumbledore yearned for most was to rid the world of the greatest evil it had ever seen, and in turn make it a safer place for wizards and muggles alike. But was he really willing to sacrifice Harry to do so, as Severus claimed?

The short answer was yes, he was. Or, he had been. Before...

Before I fell in love with Harry, as if the boy were my own kin.

Harry and Severus were now his family, unintentionally becoming the son and grandson Dumbledore had never been blessed to have.

The sudden storm caused a gathering darkness to overtake and invade the sky above him, blocking out the sun and making it seem far later than it actually was. The hair on Dumbledore's arms and the back of his neck stood on end as the air tingled with electricity. Lightning suddenly splintered across the sky, dangerously close to the tower. But Dumbledore refused to move, almost hoping it would strike the stones beneath his feet and take the decision he was contemplating out of his hands. The coward's way out.

He stepped slowly up onto the parapets. His toes curled over the edge of the stone blocks as he looked calmly down into the shadow of the castle walls. There was nothing below him now but the punishing wind and the abyss of hundreds of feet of empty air. As Dumbledore stood contemplating plummeting to his death far below, his thoughts drifted once again to Severus and Harry, the family he had never intended to create.

Family...

He'd had a family once. A loving father and dedicated mother. A brother that looked up to him. And a sister...

No. It was too painful to think about his poor, sweet sister.

I sacrificed them all for the greater good. Where had it gotten him? His brother couldn't even stomach the sight of him. Had it been worth it? Had the terrible price he'd been forced to pay helped to make the world a better place? Had the sacrifice of those he loved even changed a thing?

A step. Just one step, he thought, his toes sticking out into space as he gazed down from the dizzying height. Then they can tell me if I'm a good man... If my actions have made a difference and the greater good has been achieved. A single tear trickled beneath his half-moon spectacles as he looked at the ground far below. It traveled down his long, crooked nose before it was whipped by the fierce wind into empty space.

Father… Mother… Aberforth… He choked out a sob at the last. Ariana… Please forgive me. I was selfish and aloof, but all I ever wanted was to help the world.

Just one step.

Then he could talk to them and it would all start to make sense again.

The rocks beneath his feet began to crumble and fall away as his chest heaved with despair. A heavy gust of wind caught him from behind, billowing his robes like a sail and pushing him ever further over the edge. He could almost feel hands at his back, forcing him toward the precipice. His pockets suddenly felt heavy, as if they were filled with stones.

Pockets feel heavy with stones...

Stone... That's it!

Why hadn't he thought of it before?! The stone in his pocket! The ring that he had taken to carrying since finding it in that decrepit old cottage all those days ago. Severus had still been unconscious and Harry had been safe behind the blood wards, or so he thought... In that time of quiet desperation as he worried for his family, Dumbledore had nothing but his mind and his obsession to keep him company, dwelling every minute of every day on how to defeat Tom Riddle. Kill him. Have to kill him. Have to find the Horcruxes.

And then, miraculously, he'd found one. It had been buried under the crumbling floorboards of that old house, and after pulling it from its resting place inside the small box, Dumbledore had placed the ring in the palm of his long-fingered hand. He'd stared at it until realizing that the sun had disappeared below the horizon and there was no more light to see it by. After apparating home to Hogwarts, he'd sworn to destroy the ring the very next morning. But before the sun had risen he'd once again found himself turning the stone over and over in the palm of his hand, watching it twinkle darkly as he'd obsessed upon how to bring down the most evil wizard that had ever lived. Looking up, he realized that darkness had descended yet again, and once more swore that tomorrow, he would destroy the cursed ring.

Tomorrow…

Every day was the same. Dumbledore would wake before dawn and stare at the ring laying docile and unassuming, nestled within his palm. And he could never bring himself to destroy it.

But suddenly Dumbledore knew. This was why he couldn't bring himself to destroy the ring. This moment - now - so that he could talk to his family and beg for clarity and forgiveness.

As lightning streaked across the sky above and the wind continued to whip around him, Dumbledore pulled the ring from his pocket. It shone with an unearthly, eerie glow that promised redemption from those on the other side. All he had to do was put it on...

He slipped the ring onto his finger.

CHAPTER 34

Harry was supposed to be in bed, but instead sat hidden beneath his invisibility cloak listening to his father. A lightning bolt from the sudden summer storm lit the darkened room, throwing Snape's enraged features into harsh profile. A chill went up Harry's spine, and the longer he sat listening to his father's angry murmurs, the more confused and conflicted he became.

"The man is a danger," Snape hissed, attempting to keep his voice down. "His first priority is to everyone but Harry! As long as it serves the greater good, then Dumbledore will gladly sacrifice my son's safety, or even his life!"

No, that… that isn't true! It CAN'T be! Harry silently denied. Dumbledore would never use him like that. He cared about Harry! Why was his father saying such things?

"But... how can you even think that?" Lily asked in an anxious tone, sounding unsure what to believe. "After everything you've told me he's done for you... He loves you. Both of you!"

"I don't think the man even knows what love is anymore," Snape replied coldly. "Bringing down the Dark Lord has been his sole purpose for over half his life. I've trusted him without question for sixteen years. But how can I continue after everything he's done to Harry?"

"What are you talking about?" Lily asked. "What has he done?"

Snape was quiet and distracted, as if he hadn't heard her. A sudden, loud bang made Harry jump, and he realized that Snape had brought one of his injured hands down hard upon the tabletop. His insides lurched at the wave of guilt that sprang up inside him. It didn't matter what Snape said… His father's painful, mangled hands were all his fault. He expected to see Snape wince as be abused the contorted, painful appendage, but his father didn't even seem to feel it.

"How can I not have seen it?!" He snarled. "It's never been about keeping Harry safe! It's been about keeping him alive to fulfill Dumbledore's God damn agenda!"

"Severus, stop!" Lily replied, her worried voice drowned out by another crash of thunder. "Don't do this! Harry is safe and you're finally recovering. You've both made it out of an impossible ordeal, and... We're here. Watching over Harry – together." Lily reached up, cupping his face softly between her palms, pleading. "Please Severus... I love him, too. He is my son as much as yours. Neither of us is going to allow anything to happen to him."

Snape's anger only seemed to increase at her words, and for a long, tense moment Harry thought he would knock her hands away. But then his shoulders drooped, as if it all had suddenly become too much in his exhausted state.

He placed an injured hand over one of her own. "I would do anything to protect my family," he said quietly, but Harry almost missed it as the gale-force winds beat themselves against the outside of the castle walls.

"I know," Lily murmured. "But tonight your family is safe. You've done enough."

Sighing, his father closed his eyes and gently touched his forehead to her own.

They sat like that for long moments, both taking comfort in the other's presence. Finally, their gazes met and held, and without another word they made their way past Harry down the hallway toward Lily's bedroom. Harry sat as still as stone, hardly daring to breathe as they walked within inches of where he sat. But as their bedroom door clicked shut, he couldn't bring himself to rise. So instead he sat with his back against the wall, the churning nerves and roiling guilt heaving within his stomach. Swallowing hard, Harry felt like he was going to be sick as he reflected upon the conversation he had overheard.

What was his father talking about when he spoke of, 'Dumbledore's agenda'? Weren't all of their agendas the same? Was it not their ultimate goal to take out Voldemort once and for all? Harry had no choice in the matter – because of the prophecy he now knew that if he wanted to live, he would be forced to kill Voldemort. And he was convinced that somehow, Dumbledore would help him do that.

But why did Snape think the headmaster was dangerous? The old wizard was singularly focused on his goal of defeating evil, Harry would admit. But wasn't that the reason they all looked to Dumbledore to lead them in this fight? The headmaster was brilliantly clever, craftier than anyone Harry had ever known... But wasn't that yet another reason to trust him in this battle of good and evil?

If Dumbledore is so clever, a traitorous corner of Harry's mind whispered, would I even recognize if I was being manipulated? He chewed nervously at the inside of his lip. The churning in his gut intensified to match the ferocious storm raging just outside.

Why am I thinking like this? Harry suddenly thought, desperately trying to convince himself that he was being paranoid. After everything Dumbledore has done for me, how can I even be considering that he isn't on our side... On my side?

He sat there for long minutes. The doubt was like a parasite eating away at his brain, leaving little holes that were quickly filling with suspicion. He made a split-second decision, and the invisibility cloak pooled around his feet as he jumped up and dashed to the large fireplace. Throwing a handful of glittering floo powder into the cold, dark stones, the green flames shot to life. He quietly but firmly announced where he wanted to go, tightly closing his eyes as the spinning began.

A few seconds later he was spit ungraciously from the floo on the other side. Although he stumbled, Harry somehow managed to keep from falling. The room before him was quiet and dim, the small clicks and whirs of the tiny, delicate instruments throughout the room drowned out by the fierce wind and pounding rain.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry called.

Lightning forked menacingly beside the tower, momentarily casting harsh shadows around the room. The crack of thunder that followed was so loud that it rattled the ancient window panes. Apprehension rose forcefully inside Harry, almost making him ill as his gaze fell upon Dumbledore's overturned chair behind his desk. He tried again, desperate now and past caring if he woke the old wizard.

"Professor? I need to speak with you! It's urgent!"

Suddenly a door crashed open in the headmaster's private quarters above. The wind howled through the open doorway with the force of a hurricane, blowing scrolls and parchments off the headmaster's desk to swirl through the air around Harry like a cyclone of dry leaves in autumn. He started violently as the sound of something big crashed against the wall above him – something that grunted and sounded suspiciously like a person.

"Professor?" Harry called nervously.

Looking around, he spied a flight of stairs tucked into a corner next to a tall, thin window and took them two at a time. Reaching the top, Harry's horrified gaze watched as the headmaster crumpled slowly to the floor, his weakening body braced against the wall for support. Landing hard on his knees, his body began to flail and thrash until he was completely prone against the rough stone floor. The old wizard cried out, and Harry looked wildly around, believing he was in the midst of fighting a group of Death Eaters – or possibly even Voldemort himself.

But when it soon became obvious that the headmaster was alone, Harry dashed toward the man and dropped to his knees beside him. Dumbledore looked to be having a seizure, and Harry was at a complete loss as to how to help him.

After long moments that seemed like hours the thrashing finally stopped, and Harry's frantic breathing was harsh and loud in the sudden quiet. His eyes were wide with shock as the headmaster's body lay pale and still as death below him.

"No..." Harry rasped. "NO!" His mind refused to accept what his eyes were telling him, and he desperately began to shake the old man. "Professor! Professor Dumbledore, wake up!" Sliding his arm beneath the taller wizard's shoulders, Harry cradled the headmaster's upper body so that he was no longer laying on the cold, rough stones. Harry was trembling so violently that he almost dropped the older man. "Sir–" he cried. "Oh my God, what do I–? Professor Dumbledore, wake up!" Raising his wand and pointing it directly at the professor's heart, Harry did the only thing he could think of: "Rennerverate!"

A red light shot from the end of Harry's wand and suddenly the older man gasped, crying out in agony as he clutched his hand to his chest. Harry watched in horror as the skin over the ends of Dumbledore's fingers began to wither and blacken before his eyes, like someone was forcing the old man to hold his hand within the searing coals of a raging fire. As Harry watched, the headmaster's appendage withered from a healthy hand into the decayed, shriveled skin of an ancient mummy, and Harry had to swallow back his terror.

Dumbledore rolled to the side with a groan, folding his body protectively around the blackening appendage as his trembling body curled into the fetal position. Harry was petrified. He had never seen the headmaster so weakened… So vulnerable. Witnessing it now felt morbid and unnatural.

"Wha-what do I do, sir?" He cried. "Tell me how to help you!"

"Sev...rus..." Dumbledore rasped in a painful whisper. "Get... Sev...rus."

Harry was off like a shot, flying down the stairs two and three at a time and leaping from the last few to land heavily on the office floor below. He almost fell but refused to allow his feet to stop. The fireplace seemed leagues away, but he finally reached it and threw a handful of floo powder into the flames. Shouting for Lily's quarters, he jumped from the flames on the other side even before the spinning had completely stopped and fell heavily to the floor.

"Dad!" He screamed, scrambling to his feet and rushing toward the bedroom door. "Lily, Dad! WAKE UP!"

The door before him flew open. Snape and Lily were both wide-eyed and ruffled, as if they had been startled out of a sound sleep.

"What's wrong?" Snape asked softly.

"It's Dumbledore!" Harry said, out of breath and gasping with panic. "He's hurt! I…I think he's dying!"

Lily let out a startled cry as Snape's eyes widened before he took off toward the floo, calling to Harry over his shoulder. "Where?"

"His office!" Harry answered, keeping pace behind him as they hurried back to the large stone fireplace. "The staircase up to his quarters!"

Spinning on his heel to give him a hard look, his father fiercely commanded, "Harry, stay here with Jillian. Do not leave these rooms or open the door to anyone until I come to fetch you, is that understood?" When Harry nodded, Snape turned to Lily and directed, "Come with me. I'm going to need you."

It was only when he reached for the pot of floo powder that Harry noticed the tremble in his father's fingers.

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

"Dammit!" Snape ground out as his fumbling, swollen hands knocked the glittering green powder to the floor. "There's no time–!"

Lily rushed forward, scooping up the powder from between the fibers of the thick carpet and tossing it into the grate. When the flames turned emerald Snape charged into them calling out, "Lily, follow me! Severus Snape's office!"

Tripping in his rush out of the floo, Snape hurried toward his private ingredient store. By the time Lily had stepped through, he had accidentally dropped two precious jars of rare ingredients onto the floor in his blundering haste.

"Severus," Lily said anxiously at his shoulder. "I'm here. Tell me what you need."

"A gold potion in a small bottle," he muttered desperately. Cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach, rattling his normally imperturbable demeanor and causing him to accidentally smash yet another jar of rare ingredients. Frantic now, he made a desperate attempt at wandless magic and cried out, "Accio Aurea Salutem potion!" Amazingly, it worked. The potion slid out from behind a large jar on one of the back shelves, casting a gilded, shimmering light like liquid gold throughout the small storage room.

Lily didn't wait to be told. Snatching the small vial out of the air, her hair fanned out behind her as she spun on her heel and ran to the fireplace once again. Throwing down floo powder, she dove into the flames before Snape could reach her side.

He'd barely had time to unfold himself from the fire in Dumbledore's office before Lily stumbled backward into him with a terrified cry.

A thick, eerie fog filled the normally bright office, casting a muted light and long, low shadows as a fierce battle played out within the thick mist. Three figures fired spells and curses at one another with the speed and power of a muggle shotgun. On instinct Snape protectively shoved Lily behind him and shielded her with his body.

Where in the Hell is Dumbledore?!

"Get down!" he cried, and as he spoke a fourth figure darted into the fray. Snape could tell it was a female – no more than a girl, really – petite, wide-eyed, and vulnerable. But it was as if the others didn't see her frantically trying to bring the fighting to an end. The battle raged on around her, the curses never ceasing as they whizzed dangerously past her head.

Suddenly a spell hit her squarely in the chest, and her frail body crumpled as if she were made of no more than paper.

"NOOOO!"

The blood-curdling scream startled Snape, but the gloom obscured the room enough to conceal where it came from. Above them the hazy, ghostly figures crowded around the ruined body of the girl, and one of them dropped to his knees with a choking sob. A chill ran down Snape's spine as the figures began to speak, and their ethereal voices echoed unnaturally around the large space.

"This is your fault, Albus!" The ghostly boy on the ground yelled in that strange, unnatural echo. "You've killed her!"

"No, no – I didn't –I didn't mean–!"

"Don't deny it, Albus," said another of the ghostly boys in a thick German accent. "They were nothing but a hindrance. You wanted this to happen."

Grindelwald…? Snape thought in dawning horror.

"Of course I wanted it," said the third ghostly figure in that strange faraway echo. "I was born to do great things. How could I possibly accomplish anything when I was being weighed down by them?"

"NO! That's not true!" Someone cried out within the mist. But the words sounded helpless. Despairing. "Please… No…" They whimpered, "Take me instead."

"Admit it. You wanted them to die." Grindelwald crooned. And it was only in that moment that Snape noticed there was an otherworldly gleam in the eyes of the ghostly visions. A red gleam.

Voldemort.

The unearthly mist swirled around the office, clearing away near the headmaster's desk, and Snape was finally able to catch sight of a very real, very weak Dumbledore. The Sword of Gryffindor was hanging limply in left hand, the point resting against the floor. Pathetic, something dark whispered in a corner of his mind.

"I didn't – I can't – I'm so sorry!" Dumbledore sobbed, and his entire frame shook with emotion as he swayed on the spot.

"Not yet, Dumbledore," Grindelwald purred with a wicked smile slowly spreading across his lips. "But you will be. Soon you will be very, very sorry."

And suddenly the young German boy's features began to hideously morph and change until it was no longer Grindelwald staring down at the frail headmaster, but the Dark Lord. "You make yourself out to be the savior of the wizarding world," the ghostly, snake-like vision hissed. "You're nothing but a butcher of innocents."

And then the other figures began to change beside him. The boy crying over the young girl stayed the same, but the lifeless, battered body transformed into that of Harry.

A cry of denial was torn from Snape's very soul at the terrible image. As he scrambled to his feet, his gaze was focused only on his son's lifeless eyes as his heart clenched and twisted painfully within his chest, his lungs refusing to draw breath.

"No – Severus, don't!" Lily desperately grasped at the folds of his cloak as she tried to keep him down, but he didn't even feel her frantic tugs.

And then he was no longer looking at a young teenage wizard crying over the body of his son… but himself.

"No! Please God, not my son!" The ghostly vision wept in despair. Snape watched in horror, mesmerizingly entranced by the disturbing vision of his own features twisting in absolute shone thickly on the ghostly features, and the vision's hair was wild and disheveled as its hands clenched the strands near the skull and screamed accusingly, "You killed him! You – you promised me you'd keep him safe! HE'S DEAD AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

The wretched words echoed nightmarishly around the walls. In that agonizing moment, the vision and Snape were one and the same. In a sinister daze, all he knew was that his son was dead – murdered by Dumbledore's own hand – and he wanted nothing more than to kill the weak, pathetic old wizard that had his back turned before him, sobbing in wretched grief. His feet began closing the distance before he'd even told them to start walking. A cold, high-pitched laugh sounded unnaturally around the room, but Snape didn't – couldn't – hear.

"Severus!" Lily screamed wildly, but her scream did nothing to halt his deadly progress.

Yet somehow her frantic voice seemed to penetrate Dumbledore's anguish. He turned slowly, the sword point dragging on the floor as he met Snape's hellish, possessed gaze. He didn't even try to stop the younger wizard from advancing.

In a hoarse voice Dumbledore muttered, "I'm so sorry, Severus… Forgive me. Please, forgive me for what I have to do, my son." And with a cry born of desperate strength, he turned and swung the sword over his head, smashing it mightily down upon the table.

A spine-chilling scream rent the air as what looked like blood gushed menacingly from a deep wound on the tabletop. A sudden bolt of lightning highlighted the faces of the eerie mist figures, which all seemed to be shrieking in pain. Their expressions were twisted into angry, ugly snarls, and as the crash of thunder rumbled around the room, they disappeared in a breath of ice cold air.

Whatever spell had taken hold of Snape was suddenly broken, and he blinked rapidly to clear his incoherent thoughts and fuzzy vision.

What the hell just–?

But he was cut short as his clearing gaze landed upon a weakened, trembling headmaster. The normally piercing blue eyes were now a lifeless gray, and the old wizard's skin lacked all color as he stared weakly back at Snape.

"Severus…" The man murmured faintly, taking a single, unsteady step. And then he collapsed heavily to the floor.

"Albus!" Snape cried, rushing to him and dropping to his knees by his side. Lily was beside him in a heartbeat, rolling the headmaster onto his back and falling quickly into a healer's levelheaded demeanor. Together they quickly searched his unconscious form for any indication of what was weakening him.

"Severus," Lily suddenly murmured, and there was a quaver to her normally calm voice. "His hand – look at his hand!"

The skin along the fingers and knuckles of Dumbledore's right hand was completely necrotic, as if it had been dead for many years. And it was continuing to move up, almost to his wrist.

"Oh my God," Snape whispered. "The Corporis Mortem curse…" His wide, horrified gaze collided with Lily's. "I don't know if the potion is going to be enough! We have to get it in him – now!"

Lily was moving before he'd even finished, sliding Dumbledore's head into her lap and tipping the small golden potion into his open mouth. Snape grasped his wand in his swollen fingers, not caring about the pain but still grateful that the wand only had to be held steady, aiming at the wound. "Mortis naturam vincat non est corpus," he muttered. Snape continued chanting incantations, and could feel the darkness radiating from inside the headmaster, fighting back against the potion and the powerful healing chants.

Let him die, that dark corner inside his mind began to whisper. You made the Unbreakable Vow. And he is a threat to your son. You know he will sacrifice him for–

"No!" Snape cried as he saw the dead, necrotic tissue begin to spread at a more rapid pace, past the headmaster's wrist. Lily's startled eyes shot up, but he refused to look at her as he snarled down at the darkness, "You cannot have him!" Harry is lost without him. We are all lost without him… And he continued to chant, louder, stronger – desperately fighting for the life of the only true father he had ever known.

Another bolt of lightning split the skies, but the thunder was further now, less ominous as the sound took much longer to roll across the craggy mountains and meet their ears. Suddenly a strong golden glow came from the tip of Snape's wand, and Snape could feel the darkness slithering and coiling away, subdued and beaten… At least for now.

As the glow slowly lessened, Dumbledore's eyelids fluttered and opened.

"Lily," The headmaster muttered weakly. His glazed, depleted eyes slid from Lily's face to land upon Snape. "Sevrus, my… my boy." A small, relieved laugh escaped Lily as she looked up at Snape, then gazed back down at Dumbledore and brushed the stray, sweaty hair from his eyes. Snape's shoulders slumped and he ran a swollen hand over his face as strong emotion suddenly overwhelmed him.

"Albus," he choked, still trembling as the relief flowed through his body. "Thank Merlin… You're – you're alive. Thank God." But the short-lived relief was quickly replaced with self-righteous rage, and after a moment his dark eyes snapped back to the exhausted face that suddenly looked far older than he ever remembered seeing it. "What the bloody fuck were you thinking, old man?!"

"Severus!" Lily reprimanded quietly. "He's just been through a–"

"Don't," he admonished softly, gently cutting her off even though his eyes never left the headmaster's gaze. "That was dark magic we just experienced – very dark magic." After a long moment he went on, "I could have seriously injured you, headmaster. Or worse. I wanted to kill you. I would have, without even giving it a second thought." He let the words hang heavily in the air between them all. But to his credit, the older wizard never broke eye contact. "That spell… This curse…" Snape murmured quietly, motioning to the professor's rotting hand. "It has something to do with the Dark Lord."

It was a statement, not a question.

"I…" A single tear slid down the old man's face. "Severus, if only to protect you, you cannot know–" But his words were cut short as he grimaced in pain, moaning softly as his blackened hand gave an involuntary jerk.

Lily's eyes took on a protective glint as her gaze morphed from that of a concerned friend to that of a determined healer. "Whatever it is you need to say Severus, it can wait. He needs rest." And without another word, she conjured a stretcher and hovered the headmaster toward his private quarters.

She gets better by the day as I struggle to complete the simplest of spells, Snape thought almost bitterly as he struggled to get to his feet. But after a moment he shook his head to clear it of the sullen thoughts. He was happy for Lily, truly – she was loving, bright, and exceedingly talented. And she deserves a man that can love and provide for her the way she deserves, an ugly corner of his mind sneered hatefully. What she does not need is the pathetic excuse that I have suddenly become.

Snape was pulled from his dismal thoughts as he finally made it to the top of the stairs, which opened into the headmaster's large quarters. Lily had already tucked the man into the massive four-poster bed, and Snape's gaze lingered for a moment on the intricate carvings all along the white ash. The moonlight streaming through the large window made the wood glow like bleached bone, and Snape couldn't suppress the chill that ran down his spine.

After propping the headmaster up with pillows, Lily started a fire in the grate. Yet the fire did nothing to calm Snape's growing restlessness, and he couldn't help the anxiety and apprehension that kept trying to slither deep inside his bones.

Pulling him aside, Lily gazed worriedly up at him as she whispered, "I've learned a lot training in the hospital wing these past few weeks, but I… I've never dealt with such dark magic. He's obviously in pain, Severus. I think we may have to wake Poppy–"

"Poppy isn't equipped to deal with this," Snape sighed in resignation, wishing yet again that he didn't have to reveal this ugly, repulsive part of himself to the woman he loved. Looking intensely down at her for long, drawn-out moments, he couldn't smother the nerves fluttering in his stomach as he explained, "I'm the only one at this school who has enough experience in the Dark Arts to properly treat him."

There was a long pause as Lily stared up at him with a bewildered expression. "Experience? Sev, I know you have a history, but you can't possibly have experience with something like this… That was… Severus that was pure evil. It almost made you kill him–!"

"And what makes you think I haven't killed people before, Lily?" Snape growled low and menacingly as he glared down at her. "I was–" he paused, "I am the Dark Lord's right hand man, his most trusted servant. How do you think I obtained that most 'exalted' position?" He hissed, raging against a world that seemed so dead set against allowing him and his family to live in peace.

But she seemed to see past the protective barriers he was hurrying to erect in his vulnerable state. The way her eyes probed and penetrated his defenses only infuriated him further. She saw clearly what he worked so desperately to hide, and it made him feel raw and exposed. He couldn't handle those feelings right now, not after everything he'd just witnessed and almost been compelled to do.

"You are naïve, Lily," he spat. "Completely useless in this fight. I refuse to be responsible for your corruption. Just – just leave."

"Severus–" she murmured in a wounded tone, gazing at him as if he'd slapped her.

"I said GO!" And for the first time ever, she seemed to shrink before him. Her eyes filled with moisture, but the tears didn't fall. With her full bottom lip between her teeth, she glanced indecisively over her shoulder at Dumbledore. But as her eyes flicked back up to him for a long moment, the hurt he saw in their depths almost made him apologize. Snape suddenly found himself torn between wanting to wound her further and wanting to kiss the sting away. But before he could make up his mind, Lily spun on her heel and hurried down the stairs to the office below. He ran to the head of the stairs but heard the floo roar to life a second later.

"Dammit!" he growled, embracing the pain that flared within his hand as he turned his back on the stairs and speared his fingers through his hair.

"Severus," Dumbledore called weakly. "Do not push her away–"

As Snape whirled to face him he cried out, "What the hell else can I do, you foolish, stupid old man?! I love her!"

"And she loves you, my boy. You take too much upon yourself. Allow her to help you–"

"Help me? Help me?!" Snape snarled menacingly, stalking toward the prone headmaster and barely able to control the violence that threatened to spill out from his rage. But as he approached, the older wizard simply continued to look calmly up at him. He watched him patiently, as if they were only having a friendly chat over afternoon tea, even though Severus was wavering back and forth between slaying him right there in his bed. His chest heaved with loud, enraged breaths as he stood over the old man, glaring at him.

With a roar, Snape spun away and began to frantically pace the length of the room. "God damn you, Dumbledore!" he sneered as he passed the foot of the bed. "God damn you! You meddling, manipulative– Do you not realize the danger we're all in?! The enemies you have made throughout this God forsaken fight? Are you stupid enough to underestimate the lengths they will go to kill you?"

"I am aware," Dumbledore murmured quietly, his gaze never wavering.

Snape gave a derisive snort as he continued his frantic pacing. "And yet you continue to maneuver and manipulate people like pawns on a chessboard, like the Almighty Being who can do no wrong…" He suddenly spun to face the headmaster. "We trust you, God dammit! And we need you! For Merlin's sa– You're our leader! You can't just forget that fact whenever it is convenient and allow yourself to be led astray like a lamb to slaughter!"

"You're right, Severus," Dumbledore replied calmly. "And I will die for my mistakes."

Snape whirled to face his mentor. "YES, YOU'RE GOING TO DIE YOU STUPID, GOD DAMNED FOOL!" The headmaster didn't even flinch, and Snape found himself charging toward him again, even though he'd told himself to stay away – far away – from the man. He wanted to hurt him, break him, smash his calm, detached features so that he would begin to understand the agonizing horror and raw anguish that Snape was experiencing.

With a deadly snarl, he was able to force himself to turn away – but only just – before he lashed out at the headmaster. Instead he directed his rage toward the lunascopes and other delicate instruments above the fireplace, and without a second thought swept his arm across the mantle to send the entire collection crashing to the floor. "You went up against the Dark Lord, and YOU LOST! We've failed, it's over, don't you see that?! I'm not strong enough to beat this curse – I've only succeeded in slowing the inevitable. I CAN'T SAVE YOU!"

"There was nothing you could have done, son–"

"OF COURSE THERE WAS! But I couldn't protect them, I'm not strong enough! IT'S MY FAULT!" Snape kicked a small table next to the armchair in front of the fire, smashing the spindly wood into pieces and sending the books that were stacked neatly atop it crashing against the wall next to the bed. "I had to make an Unbreakable Vow, damn you! My family – Bellatrix and Narcissa, if I hadn't sworn to assist, they would have–"

"Severus, I know," Dumbledore interrupted calmly. "I know. Draco sent word to me the same night that Spinner's End caught fire."

Snape was brought up short, the shock of hearing the headmaster admit that he knew of the Dark Lord's most secret and protected plan jolting him from his rage. Stunned, dark eyes connected with exhausted, sorrowful blue.

"You – you know?"

And for the first time since the entire sickening conversation began, Snape detected something other than calm acceptance in Dumbledore's gaze. Apprehension…? "The boy has been initiated as a Death Eater to punish his father's failures, and his mother is being kept as Voldemort's concubine." Snape was already aware of these facts, but still couldn't help himself from wincing at the Malfoy family's current plight. But Dumbledore continued, "That night an unknown patronus came bounding into my office telling me of your injuries, and that I was desperately needed at Spinner's End. Hours later, after you and your family had been transferred to St. Mungo's, I received an owl. It was a missive from Draco Malfoy, admitting everything and begging for my help to aid his parents. Although his mother is being kept close by Voldemort's side, she was somehow able to send word to Draco that you had made an Unbreakable Vow to assist him in his mission.

"It was then that I came to believe that it had been Narcissa Malfoy that sent the patronus. I cannot presume to know if she still supports Voldemort in his quest for domination over our world. However, I do know that Draco has seen exactly the kind of world that Voldemort wishes to bring to pass, and no longer wants any part of it."

"So… what are you saying?"

There was something in Dumbledore's gaze that Snape couldn't quite identify. "I think you know what I'm saying, Severus," he murmured.

They gazed at one another for a long, silent moment before the headmaster's meaning hit Snape with enough force to knock him back a few paces.

"No." The word was automatic, harshly forceful in its finality.

"You must. The Vow has been made, the curse set in motion. There is nothing more to be done other than make my death mean something. Use it to our advantage for the greater g–"

"You – you can't be serious?!" Snape cut through, aghast at what the man was asking him to do. Even after all he'd seen and done in his life, the thought was revolting. "Do you hear yourself? Do you even understand what you're asking me to do?!"

"I'm asking you to save the Malfoy boy's life. Possibly even his soul."

"What about my life?! My soul?!With all that goes through that brilliant mind of yours, you had to of realized that you are the only father I've ever truly known!" At these words a single tear leaked from the corner of Dumbledore's eye, trickling over the wrinkled face to drip onto the plush down comforter. The sight did nothing but caused Snape's to be even more severe as he hissed, "I cannot kill you! I won't! You'rethe only one strong enough to defeat the Dark Lord! If we don't have you with us – If Harry doesn't – I can't–"

Snape's chest heaved as the ice cold truth sliced through his blistering rage. The unbidden tears that sprang to his eyes threatened to choke him. As his face fell into his gnarled hands, he finally broke. "I cannot kill my own father, Albus. And I can't save Harry without you…" Tears racked his frame. Snape no longer had the strength to stand, and he sank to his knees beside the bed.

Long moments that felt like hours passed, with his soft weeping and the crackling of the fire the only sounds to fill the large room. Snape felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs and he could no longer draw breath. It is not Albus who is cursed… It's me, and all who I hold dear.

Suddenly there was the feeling of a soft touch on the crown of his head. He felt the weight of Dumbledore's uninjured hand stroking him, unsure and hesitant, as if doubtful that Snape would accept him in his most vulnerable moment.

Without realizing what we was doing, Snape rose to the bed as the older wizard opened his arms. He wrapped Snape in a tight embrace, rocking gently, and Snape could feel the headmaster's tears fall upon his own skin. "Oh, my boy… My dear boy. My son…"

They sat in silence for a long while, each taking comfort in the other's presence and embrace. Eventually the tears slowed, and even amidst the embarrassment that was attempting to creep into his brain, for this small moment in time… Snape was at peace.

But he broke slowly away as the headmaster began to chuckle, gazing at the older wizard and wondering if he'd finally lost his mind. However, the twinkle was back in Dumbledore's clear blue eyes as he returned Snape's gaze and murmured, "I can't help but see certain… similarities between you and your son." He laughed outright as Snape looked around the room at the destruction he had wrought, and realized the man was referring to the day that all of this had started – that evening in the office below, when Harry had done much the same thing as Snape, wreaking havoc all over his office.

Snape looked at the older wizard out of the corner of his eye, a rueful half-smile playing against his lips. "Humph," was all he decided to say.

. . . . .

The first thing that Snape's gaze fell upon when he rose from the floo in Lily's tower was Harry. The boy was sitting on the couch with his knees drawn up under his chin, biting his lip and staring nervously out into space. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he hadn't even heard the roar of the flames only a few feet away.

"Harry?" His son visibly flinched, but jumped to his feet a moment later as his mind registered his father's presence.

"Dad! What happened? How's Dumbledore? Were you able to heal him? Is he going to be alright?" The boy didn't even take a breath during the rapid fire questions.

"He's going to be fine, Harry." For now. "Did Lily not explain?"

"Well, she said something about… about dark magic," he muttered. "She mentioned a curse before she left, but she seemed kind of–"

"Left?" Snape interrupted. "Where did she go?"

"She… um… said she was going to her office to work," Harry answered, suddenly not meeting his eyes. Snape gazed down at his son; the boy's discomfort could not be more obvious.

"Harry," he said softly. "What?"

Harry looked up at him from beneath his fringe. Was that accusation he saw reflected in his eyes? "It looked like she'd been crying."

The implication was obvious. Snape almost smiled at his son's indignant, protective tone and what it suggested. The boy sees her as a mother…

Harry was still frowning at him and expected an answer, he realized. Although Snape knew he had been unduly harsh to Lily and had all intentions of making it up to her, he suddenly realized that the hot, prickly sensation he was feeling under Harry's intent gaze was shame at how he'd treated her.

"I…" Snape cleared his throat as he tried again. "Well, I was…" He trailed off.

"A git?" Harry provided bluntly as he raised a brow, and Snape could almost see himself in the expression.

"Yes," he sighed in resignation, still looking down at the perceptive boy. "I was most definitely agit."

The two continued to gaze at each other. Snape, for once in his life, was at a complete loss for what to say.

"Well?" Harry finally asked.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to apologize and bring her home?"

Harry gave a small yelp as Snape reached out and snatched his son to his chest, hugging him fiercely. After a moment, the boy's arms wrapped firmly around his middle as he settled into the embrace. Gently cupping the back of his head, Snape rested his cheek against the top of Harry's dark mop of hair.

"I love you, son," he murmured. His voice tightened dangerously over a lump in his throat as he considered the perilous path that Harry would be forced to walk very soon.

"I love you too, Dad," Harry's muffled voice near his shoulder responded.

"I promise I will explain more about what happened tonight. But for now, just know that Dumbledore is alright, and is resting." He gently extricated himself and held Harry at arm's length, "As you should be. It's very late. Go to bed. I'm going to get your mother and beg her forgiveness for being a git."

Harry's eyes shone with pleasure at his words. Snape smiled down at him, running his swollen fingers through the boy's hair before he sent him to his room.

"Night, Dad." Harry called softly from his doorway.

"Good night, son," Snape called back, hearing the quiet snick of the latch settling into place.

Lost in thought, he turned and made his way through the tower door, down the spinning spiraling stair case, and past the massive suit of armor seated on the equally massive armor of his war horse, which together guarded the bottom entrance to the tower.

As Snape made his way to the small office just down the hall from the hospital wing entrance, he suddenly realized that the peace and stillness he'd felt in the headmaster's quarters had lingered. Although he knew that the start of the biggest challenge of their lives lay only a few weeks ahead, somehow a warm awareness had settled in the pit of his stomach and without his notice, gently flooded every cell of his being. He understood in that moment exactly what, "The power the Dark Lord knows not," referred to, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that it did indeed give them unimaginable power over the darkness they were about to face.

Whatever the Dark Lord throws at us, we will get through it together…

He looked up, surprised to be face-to-face with the hand carved wood of Lily's office door.

Feeling calm and sure in his love for the woman on the other side, he pushed it open and quietly slipped inside.

Lily stood before a small cauldron, a mortar and pestle in her hand and random ingredients littered across her workstation. Her movements were jerky and frantic, and many of the jars were on their side spilling their contents across the table. It was only as he saw her shoulders shake, as if she were crying, that he finally spoke.

"Lily…"

Her movements stilled, but she didn't raise her head, nor did she turn to face him. Instead she continued grinding the ingredients in the bowl before her. "Severus. I… I'm working. I'll come back when I'm done."

Even from the doorway Snape could feel the tension radiating off her body, quivering nervously and reminding him of a small animal surrounded by a pack of hungry lions. Not wishing to cause her any further anxiety, he slowly moved to stand behind her and softly placed his hands on her arms to still the agitated movements of her mixing and grinding. Snape felt goosebumps form along her skin as he ran his ruined hands slowly down to cup her elbows, then continue to her wrists. No words passed between them, but some of the tension drained from her body as Lily allowed herself to slightly relax into his embrace.

"Lily," he whispered at her temple, and he felt her shudder. "I'm sor–"

"I – I've been working on something for your hands," she hurried to override him, suddenly shaking him off. "It was Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes that gave me the idea. I've been considering it for a while now, and I think it might really help. I made a cream, but it could work even better as a potion–"

"Lily–"

"It's the properties of the phoenix itself that really got me interested. Their tears have healing powers, don't they? And there must be restorative components throughout their bodies because they die and are reborn through the ashes. There's got to be something there that can h-help your hands," she rambled. "I'm sure I could – All I have to do is work harder, figure it out, I knowI can do it, I know I can–"

"Lily, stop." The words were spoken softly, but she flinched and stiffened within his arms as if he'd screamed them at her. Her loose hair covered her features as she bowed her head before her.

Snape couldn't stand to see her like this. Spinning her around, he couldn't think of the right words to say when still she refused to raise her head and look at him. "I'm sor–" he began again, but once more she cut him off.

"Can – can I show you? Please…?"

With a resigned sigh he muttered, "Of course." Is the woman deliberately refusing to hear my apology?

Reaching for a small jar of cream the color of orange poppies, she unscrewed the lid and Snape was suddenly hit with the spicy smell of sandalwood and the woodsy aroma of frankincense. It was rather rich and pleasant.

The cream itself had a silky heat to it, and after all of the extra abuse that his hands had suffered that night, it felt wonderful. A small sound of pleasure was torn from him as Lily's fingers massaged the cream masterfully into his skin, bending each hand up at the wrist and working it into the palm of his hands. There was something sensual in her touch, and although she still refused to meet his gaze, he stared hotly down at her.

When she pinched his index finger at the base of his knuckle and slid her fingers firmly down along the entire appendage, he was unable to suppress a deep, guttural moan. At the sound her gaze finally met his own and held, as she repeated the motion on his other fingers. A deep moan was torn from him with each firm, suggestive touch. Her lips parted and her cheeks took on a rosy flush as she continued to stare up at him.

"Oh God Lily," he panted. "That feels so good. The pain…" His murmured words fell away and his gaze darkened upon her own as she continued to massage his hand with seductive motions. His other hand found its way up to cup her cheek against his palm. Bending his head, he could feel her warm breath fan across his face as he whispered, "The pain is gone."

Meeting her lips with his own, he gave a satisfied groan when Lily immediately melded her soft curves against his front, winding her arms around his neck to hold his body firmly against her. Using his now pain-free hands he lifted her small frame easily, and she wrapped her long legs frantically around his waist as he pushed her roughly against the wall.

He kissed her fiercely, desperately trying to tell her without words just how much he loved her – needed her – in order to survive the coming war. He used his hands to lavish her with the kind of attention her luscious body deserved, bringing her to the brink only to hear her beg for what he'd been unable to give her since his sustaining his injuries.

Her soft mewls of pleasure was more than he could handle. For the second time that night he swept the table free of everything and sent it smashing to the floor. Lily clambered to sit on the table's surface, and both of them eagerly pulled at the other's waistbands. Their need was too great to do more than push their clothes aside, and within moments they were crying out in ecstasy together.

When it was over, Snape ran his fingers through the hair at her temples, resting his damp forehead against her own. Their panting was loud and raspy in the sudden silence as they tried to catch their breaths. Lily suddenly clenched her hands in the fabric of his robes.

"I didn't want to be useless," she whispered quietly against him, "And hearing you apologize… I just… I want to be strong for you." Snape's heart lurched.

He leaned down and kissed her softly. "You're the strongest person I know," he whispered, cupping her cheek and kissing her again. "And I'm sorry for what I said."

She smiled shyly up at him through her lashes. "Don't be," she murmured, glancing down at where the two of them were still joined. He couldn't help but chuckle at her brazenness.

But later, after the mess was put back to rights and they were turning off the lamps to leave for the night, Snape couldn't help but look back over his shoulder as the tiny flicker of an idea began prickling at the back of his mind.

Phoenix properties…