Ten years.

It was almost ten years since Lily saw her son. She'd missed everything; each inch taller, and every Birthday, Christmas, or milestone. She didn't even know what he looked like – but was about to find out.

Brushing dark hair from her face, still not used to its shorter length, Lily scanned the crowd of Muggle shoppers. It was August, and the success of her plan rested on Petunia. Lily had waited until the Hogwarts letters were sent, knowing there'd be no reason for an owl to visit Privet Drive before then. Petunia hadn't replied, but it was August and Lily stood anxiously outside the cafe. It was pastel and Victorian-themed, bearing no resemblance to where Petunia announced her pregnancy with warm delight.

Those days were gone, replaced with resentment and pain, as Lily forced her anger down. One loss of control, and everything she'd prepared for her son would fall apart.

Lily scanned the busy London crowd again, half expecting it to rain just to match her mood.

Ten years she'd wondered – trying to picture her little baby as a child. A boy who, in one month, would be attending Hogwarts for the first time. What classes would he enjoy? Would he want to play Quidditch? Which house would he be sorted to? How many friends might he meet on the train? Would he hate her for abandoning him? Had his father figured it out yet?

'So, you're here.'

Lily turned sharply, instinctively flexing a hand to her concealed wand, then exhaled a long breath to calm herself. There stood Petunia, pale and scowling, as if Lily was the one showing up three hours late.

'Hello,' Lily said.

She had no idea how else to begin, but kept her gaze firmly on her sister and not the smaller form beside Petunia. She wasn't ready yet – ten years, and Lily still wasn't ready to be reunited with her child.

'You'll take him,' Petunia said.

'Yes.' Lily nodded, clenching fists.

She had to remain civil, no matter how difficult; Petunia had no idea who she was. Lily, having supposedly died, could not risk appearing as she once had. Her brown hair, hazel eyes, and slightly taller height formed her mask among those who may otherwise recognise her.

As far as Petunia knew, Lily was acting on Dumbledore's orders to “take the boy off her hands”.

'Is this everything?' She carefully avoided the boy, indicating to his trunk and owl cage.

'Yes.' Petunia nodded, frown deepening.

For a second, a shoot of fear jolted Lily – had her sister recognised her?

Petunia stared intently, carefully taking in her appearance, and Lily quickly glanced away. She rattled off everything pre-planned, glad her mouth acted on her own because Lily couldn't remember anything else of importance.

Finally, as Petunia left without so much of a parting glance to her nephew, Lily looked at her eleven-year-old son. It took every ounce of control she possessed not to break into sobs and apologies the instant Lily met his emerald eyes.

She'd almost forgotten the colour.

'Hello,' Harry said, biting his bottom lip.

'Did anyone explain to you who I am?' Lily, marvelled at her ability to talk, reached for his trunk and cage to shift it beside an outside table. She nodded him to sit in one of the rickety chairs.

'No.' Harry frowned, sitting. 'Only that I'll be living with you. When I'm not at school, that is.'

'That last bit was an assumption on their part.' Lily sighed. 'I'll be at Hogwarts with you as well.'

'Oh.' Harry fidgeted. 'Who are you?'

Lily winced. She signalled a waitress, waiting until the food arrived before considering how to unravel ten years of information and apologies.

Seething rage remained under the surface, threatening to boil over in urge to run after Petunia and hex her sister until nothing remained. She hadn't seen her son until now, but Lily knew. Oh, she knew everything – the cupboard under the stairs, lack of full meals – or any sort of meal at all, and the cast-off clothes from Dudley.

She knew Harry was bullied, belittled, roughed around, and neglected beyond what her stomach could handle. And, after the violence she'd both witnessed and caused in the past five years – that was saying a lot.

'Eat what you can.' Lily pushed the plate of sandwiches across their table. 'I know you're hungry; I know what they've done to you.'

Harry stared at her, then shyly looked away and nibbled at a corner of bread.

'You asked who I am.' Lily waited for her son to look up. 'The answer is very long and painful, but you deserve to know. However, if I tell you who I am and why you're going to live with me from now on, you must not tell anyone. Not a single other person, unless I say so – do you understand?'

'Why?' Harry winced. 'I mean, yes. Sorry. I promise.'

'To the world, I am Ellen Aster,' Lily began, 'but to you, and now only you, I am Lily Evans. Or Lily Potter.' She hadn't quite decided which she was, even then.

'What!' Harry yelped, leaning back. 'You...You're...'

'I'm your mother, Harry.' Lily braced herself. 'I'm not dead.'

'Yes, you are,' he said fiercely, but kept his voice low. 'Voldemort killed you.'

Lily, to her annoyance, flinched at the name. Luckily, haunting memories didn't follow – she'd had ten years to learn to safeguard her mind against the past.

'Who told you about...' Lily straightened stubbornly. 'Voldemort?'

'Hagrid,' Harry answered, taking another hesitant bite of his sandwich. 'Yesterday was my Birthday.' He said it like an accusation.

'I know.' Lily lowered her gaze, guilt spearing her heart. 'It should have been us – your father and I. We should have been there, telling you about magic and buying your school supplies. We should have baked your cakes, tucked you in at night, and kept you safe.'

Tears tried to spill, but she stayed strong. Her son could not remember this as the day his mother broke.

'What happened?' Harry asked quietly. 'Where were you? Where's Dad?'

Lily took a deep breath, and told him everything she could – which, in the grand scheme lasting over ten years, wasn't very much.

She explained that Voldemort killed James, but she'd survived with a potion that made her appear dead for years. When she woke, with the help of an old friend, she'd moved to Ireland. Lily trained to be a Healer, using her job at a magical hospital as practise blending in and keeping her real identity a secret. Most of Lily's memories of the years before Saint Mungo's were locked away, as she couldn't bear them or the consequences of her own actions.

'I thought of you every day, Harry. Every. Day.' Lily reached across the table, taking his small hands in hers. Making contact almost undid her emotions, but the marvel in his face kept her focused.

'I couldn't take care of you, not until now,' she continued. 'I will never forgive myself for letting you live how you have, but I swear – I promise, with everything I have, that we can be a family again. That's why you're coming to live with me now, so I can fix this and give you the love you deserve.'

'It's really you, isn't it?' he whispered, green eyes wide. 'M-Mum?'

He hurried around the table, nearly knocking it over, and leap into her awaiting arms. Lily hugged him tight, almost enough to squash her thin boy, as sobs broke free – she couldn't tell who cried the hardest.

After what felt like forever, yet no time at all, they parted and gathered Harry's belongings. They left the cafe, heading down the street to a bus stop.

They didn't speak until a bus arrived, and even then it was almost normal; Harry told her about Hagrid buying his owl and how amazing magic is, then asked about Hogwarts. The journey to Brighton was filled with chatter of ordinary mother and son things – albeit magical things. The pair earned bewildered stares from Muggles, while enthusing about Charms lessons and flying broomsticks.

Arriving at Brighton brought them back to reality. Lily glanced warily at the sunset, urging Harry to stay close.

The fear never went away.

'Here we are.' Lily smiled, walking ahead. The lush yard of the small house was fenced with stone, lacking a gate but not short on magical protection. 'It's not much but we'll at Hogwarts in a month, so it'll do.'

'Wow!' Harry grinned, admiring stone and ivy. 'I love it.'

Lily kept her back to him, not ready to face the truths of his earlier childhood. Anything was luxurious compared to a cupboard under the stairs.

She tapped her wand to the door and it swung open. Inside was nothing to boast of, just an ordinary house with ordinary walls and a modern kitchen despite the house's cracks and creaks.

'I'll give you a tour, but first there's something very important we need to discuss.' Lily placed his trunk by the kitchen, and opened the owl cage to allow Hedwig her freedom.

Harry smiled, watching his snowy owl fly through an open window.

'We have one month as mother and son,' Lily said sternly. 'Then we'll be Professor and student to the rest of the world. We'll get to see each other outside of class, and you can stay in my quarters from time to time, but we must be very careful. It's dangerous for me to be alive right now. I need you to trust me. It's asking a lot but-'

'I do trust you.' Harry nodded. 'I won't tell.'

'Good boy.' Lily smiled sadly. 'There's something else. James Potter, who loved us very much, is not biologically your father.'

'Who is?' Harry asked.

'Severus Snape,' she said. 'He doesn't know yet, about me or you - I'm going to need your help with that. But until he's ready, no one can know you're his son. He's also at Hogwarts; your father teaches Potions.'

'Won't he recognise you?'

Harry's question was simple, but shocked Lily so much she had to sit down. Covering her mouth, she took a moment to gather composure. Harry didn't realise his mother was wearing a magical disguise.

All those years, and he hadn't known what she looked like either.

'No,' Lily finally said. 'I...He won't. I'll explain later.'

'Did Severus...I mean, did Dad make the Potion that saved you?' Harry wondered.

'Yes.' She nodded, surprised. 'He did, but doesn't remember. And now he needs us to save him.'