Lily sometimes wondered what would have happened if she had not attended her nephew's belated christening. If she had snubbed her sister's invitation, as Petunia had done to her so many times over the years, staying at home to tend to her husband and son. Petunia's eagerness for her son to be admitted to an exclusive Church of England primary school had called for an impromptu trip to St Barts parish church, where a wailing Dudley had cried for his television throughout the entire ceremony. Lily had been forced to attend the shambolic affair by her parents, leaving Harry at home with chicken pox- and James, his reluctant babysitter. It pained her that she could not remember her final words to her first husband- nor his to her. She often felt as if she had abandoned him, guilt rising like bile in her throat when she thought of how easily she came to accept Severus into her life, uprooting herself and Harry into the home of James' childhood enemy.

If she had stayed at home that fateful night she would have undoubtably died. Following, she supposed, that primordial instinct to protect her offspring- leaving Harry an orphan before the age of two, in the care of reckless Sirius or spiteful Petunia. It wasn't that Lily had a morbid preoccupation with death, she just sometimes wondered what James would think if he could see her now. If he would blame her. Would he accuse her of failing him when he needed her most? With these questions at the back of her mind she found herself time and time again craving the peace and quiet that Harry and Severus continually denied her.

She smiled fondly, remembering how Severus had swooped into Godric's Hollow, much like how James used to imitate his bat like movements. Severus had smuggled her and a sleeping Harry away from the sharp scratching of Rita Skeeter's quill and the violent hysterics of a grieving and bereft Sirius. Severus' love for her had not faltered despite her choosing James over him. No, Severus loved her with a fierce passion that Lily found difficult to comprehend. He had protected her and Harry without question, installing them in his heavily warded house in Spinner's End. Albus had offered him a teaching position at Hogwarts soon after, and he in turn extended the invitation to include Lily and her child, unearthing his Mother's old wedding ring and promising to love, honour and protect Lily for the rest of his days.

The teaching staff at Hogwarts doted on young Harry. From the moment he arrived at the school he had been burdened with a never-ending supply of of Uncles and Aunts, something that immediately irked Severus who hated nothing more than a spoiled child. Lily had been wrapped up in a web of self-absorbed grief, leaving the responsibility of caring for the child to Severus (the eternal bachelor). He tried at all times to view the boy as Lily's, to see nothing of James in him. A task that he almost always succeeded in, for Severus Snape was not a man who failed.

For the most part, Severus kept a tight rein on his stepson. He strove for perfection in his own life, and expected obediance, respect and decorum no matter how young the boy was. He'd been a presence in Harry's life for over five years- in comparison to James Potter's fifteen months- and yet the boy was willful, reckless and continually in and out of trouble. The boy may call him "Dad" (somewhat begrudingly he felt- if a seven year old could be begrudging...) but it often felt like the pair were embroiled in a constant battle of wills.

Harry was the type of child who had dirt under his finger nails however many times he was instructed to wash his hands. He was that child who fought tooth and nail against taking a bath and had a bad habit of seeking out mischief wherever he went. Aged seven, the boy was on his way to becoming a menace- a fact that Severus loudly proclaimed to be due to his parentage- running around planting dungbombs in Filch's filing cabinet, smiling toothily at Albus then proceeding to pull the feathers out of Fawkes golden plume: he was the epitome of a happy, healthy, (albeit unruly) little boy. He spent the mornings at a day school for magical children in a village north of Hogsmead. The afternoons, however, were another story.

Lily was now almost back to her former self, rising like a phoenix from the ashes of her heartbreak. She could look at her child, seeing the sacrifice of her deceased husband torn into his forehead, without tears brimming at her eyes. Unfortunately, she was now focused on resuming the research that she had embarked upon before the birth of Harry. She was recently apprenticed to Filius, assisting in the teaching of younger pupils in return for his advice and imput into her thesis on controversial charms, leaving Harry in the care of an elderly house elf from lunch to dinner time. Harry was something of an expert at evading his guardians, and Severus now found himself in a state of constant vigilance- utilising the deatheater skill of stealth in order to quash his stepson's mischief as quickly as possible- with Lily abdicating the discipline of the child to him. He was certain he would have a nervous breakdown before the age of thirty.

It had been a day much like any other. Harry had gone to school, Severus to class, and Lily to her study. They had lunched in the Great Hall, and then each gone their separate ways. Harry had feigned tiredness, and Lily had dismissed the house elf- throwing her studies aside to enjoy a moment to herself, soaking in a steaming hot bath. She woke up hours later to cold water and the almost slightly feminine shrieking of her beloved.

"Boy! Get out here this instant!"

Lily heard the a crashing noise from her son's room, reached for her wand and muttered a heating charm on the water, summoned a glass of wine, and began to play her favourite Celestina Warbeck song at a seriously loud volume.