Harry finished his Transfiguration essay earlier than expected. It was amazing how much work he could get done without the occasional game of Wizard's Chess or Exploding Snap wrapped up somewhere in his study time. Hermione would be proud.

Harry took advantage of the unexpected free time to wander around the castle grounds and chose his plants for his Potion's homework. At the moment—his target was daises. They grew wild in little patches all around the grounds.

Harry took his time. The emotional turmoil of the previous day had taken its toll on him. He felt scarcely able to walk, but sky was a perfect blue and the temperature in Northern Scotland was mild even at the height of summer.

As perfect as the day was and as entertaining as it would have been to have a laugh imagining Snape-the-Flower-Child linking his daisy-chain, only one thought consumed Harry this day. He would get to see his mum's memories later that night and would finally get some real answers to his questions over what happened between Mum and Snape...of that, Harry was certain.

At one point he wondered how exactly one viewed a memory in a Pensieve, but he couldn't even imagine how such magic was done, so Harry chose not to think about that part. If it was something dangerous, he was sure his mum would have found some other way to say what she had to say.

Harry also knew that Professor Snape would be going with him to see the memory tonight. He wasn't sure if that made things better or worse. Would Snape find some sort of absolution in the memories? If he did, how would he treat Harry then?

Or would Snape find the memories so upsetting…it would only make matters between Harry and the professor so bad that there would be no chance of a resolution? How would that affect Harry learning Occlumency?

Harry asked professor Snape that morning if there was some kind of book that might be helpful, but the professor said that it was doubtful that Harry would find any useful information in the self-help books. Many of them were written by authors who were only moderately adept at the rare magic and could actually do more harm than good. Harry came to the inescapable conclusion that if he were going to learn Occlumency…he was going to have to trust Snape. Hopefully his mum's gift wouldn't make matters worse between him and the professor.

Harry didn't like the notion that Voldemort could find a way into his head. Harry's mind was enough of a mess without that bastard mucking it up even more. As insane as it sounded…Snape might be the only way Harry would keep his sanity.

Harry looked into his satchel and figured he had enough daisies for his experiment now. He would have to get them linked soon if they were to be dry in time for the term. He wanted a window to redo it if something were to go wrong.

Harry sighed to himself. That's if he returned for the term. He still had his expulsion trial coming up. If he were expelled, would he have to return to Privet Drive? Or would he have to remain with Snape because he was the professor's apprentice? It was a sticky situation and Harry couldn't think about it anymore.

Why was his life so damn complicated?

The sun was getting low in the sky and Harry knew it was time to get back to the castle. Snape would probably lay-into to Harry for skiving lunch and insist that he eat before their meeting with the Headmaster.

But Harry couldn't eat if he wanted to. In a little less than an hour he would see his mum's memories.

He would see his mum!

Somehow, Harry knew that his life was about to change. Whether it was for good or bad…well…that was up to fate.

"Come in Harry…Severus."

The ornate oak door opened at the top of the spinning staircase and Harry took a hesitant step into the office. A strange, yet haunting, music filled the room and it felt that his nerves were not quite as on-edge as they were when he came up the stairs.

That changed when he forgot that Snape was right behind him and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the professor's hand press firmly between is shoulder blades.

"Move along, Potter. We don't have all night," The Potion's Master said as he propelled Harry further into Dumbledore's office.

Professor Dumbledore stood with his back to them. The Headmaster serenely stoked the fiery plumage of his phoenix. The calming music that filled the air was coming from that lovely bird. Harry wondered if the Headmaster was deliberately encouraging the phoenix to sing its tranquil song.

"I understand that you have received a rather unique gift, Harry," the Headmaster said as he turned and gestured for Harry and Snape to sit.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said quickly as he accepted Dumbledore's offer for a chair.

Professor Snape took the chair opposite of Harry's. Harry knew the professor had to be every bit as anxious as he was. Harry could barely stand the anticipation, but the professor remained perfectly composed…the very picture of calm and indifference. Harry wondered how the professor could keep from jumping out of his chair. If Snape was this good at hiding his real emotions…no wonder Dumbledore had made him a spy.

Harry reached into his trouser pocket took the phial. His fingers tightened around it one last time before he removed it and offered it to the headmaster. "Professor Snape told me that it's a memory," Harry said timidly, unsure of what else to say.

Dumbledore took the phial from Harry and gazed at its silvery pearl essence. "Professor Snape is correct in that observation. I assume that you are here because you wish to view this memory," the Headmaster asked, favouring Harry with his twinkling gaze over his half-moon glasses.

"Well, yes," Harry snapped. He didn't mean to sound so impertinent, but why did the Headmaster have to ask when the answer was so obvious.

From the chair next to him Harry noticed Snape role his eyes but the professor said nothing. Harry wondered if the gesture was in criticism Harry, Dumbledore, or just the entire exchange in general.

The Headmaster then turned to Professor Snape. "Am I to understand that you wish to view this memory as well, Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster." Once again, Snape seemed to be completely unreadable and Harry couldn't help but wonder what the dour professor was thinking.

"Then shall we?" The Headmaster gestured to his right and a panel opened from the dark-wood-panelled wall, revealing a pedestaled stone font carved with intricate runes and Latin phrases Harry knew he would never understand.

Harry and Snape followed the Headmaster to the Pensieve.

With a soft pop, the Headmaster uncorked the phial and Harry watched in silent awe as the metallic-like liquid poured an un-detached steam into the basin.

Dumbledore turned to Harry and Snape, and then asked, "Would you like to do this alone or together?"

Harry looked to Snape. "Alone?"

Snape nodded and gestured his hand, indicating that Harry should, indeed, go alone. Harry was relieved. He was anxious enough as it was. He didn't think he could stand to share such a deeply personal moment with Snape. No doubt Snape felt the same way about Harry.

Harry stepped forward and looked into the Pensieve. He found the silvery vortex mesmerising. Without knowing why, compulsion took over, and Harry felt the sudden urge to immerse himself.

His heart panicked, but he found no voice to scream, as he fell into the abyss.

Harry landed hard on his bum, inside a softy moon-lit room, decorated with white and blue and frilly lace. Through the dapple shadows he saw a white cot in the corner with mobile adorned with snitches and brooms magically suspended above it.

He was in a baby nursery.

And when Harry recognised the pretty red-headed woman rocking a baby, he knew whose nursery it was…

It was his nursery.

She was rocking him.

Harry pushed himself up from the floor and quietly approached his mum, as if his presence would disturb the idyllic scene. He stopped only a couple feet away.

It was all very surreal. He could see and even hear his mum sing to his baby-self a sweet lullaby but the memory brought no other sensation. He could not feel the soft evening breeze that gently blew through open window, smell sweet fragrance of the flowers that bloomed just outside, nor feel the warmth of his mum's nearby body. None of it was truly there, but Harry still easily found himself wrapped up in the moment.

As Harry watched his mum rock the tiny version of himself, he was struck by how young she was. She barely looked old enough to be out of Hogwarts.

Harry couldn't have been more than three months old, himself. The only feature that he recognised of himself was his unruly mop of raven hair. Harry stood there, with his eyes transfixed on his unblemished forehead and without realising, raised his hand and touched the mark that had cursed his life.

Harry mourned for the baby and the normal life that would be so tragically ripped away from him.

Harry turned his attention back to his mum, rocking him so gently as he slept.

She was singing to him.

Harry's mum had a lovely voice and though he had no recollection her voice before now, a spark of recognition stuck him. He did know that voice…and though he did not know the words, he knew the tune well.

Harry gasped a sob and covered his face to hide his tears. It was his first real memory of his mum that did not involve her death.

…Soft the drowsy hours are creeping…
…Hill and vale in slumber sleeping…
…I my loving vigil keeping…
…All through the night…

Harry composed himself, if just barely. He chose a spot to sit on the floor and waited for what would happen next. She had to say or do something eventually because thus far, Harry could see no reason why any of this involved Snape.

It wasn't until she finally finished her lullaby that Harry's mum finally began to speak.

"Harry…Dear Heart…I have a confession to make to you, my little love."

Harry's heart almost stopped. Was she really speaking to him here…now? No…she couldn't be. But it almost seemed to Harry as if she was.

She was actually speaking to baby-Harry. But Harry the teenager could still pretend…Couldn't he?

"You are not who people think you are, sweetheart. I had to hide your true identity to protect yourself and your father."

Harry was baffled. How was she hiding his identity and how exactly did that protect his dad? Actually…where was his dad? Why wasn't he here?"

"Harry dear, Daddy James is not your real daddy. Daddy James and I are only pretending."

Daddy James?

No…NO! Harry was not hearing this! This can't be right! Someone must have sent him the wrong memory! This had to be a mistake!

"I'm so sorry, but we had to do this to keep you and your real daddy safe from some very bad people," she whispered into baby Harry's ear, as if to make sure no bad people would hear.

Oh, no! Harry wasn't stupid. He could see it now. He knew exactly where this was going, but he held himself transfixed on every word his mother said, praying that he was wrong.

"I hate myself for having to do this, but I even had to lie to your real daddy," His mum's face was now wet with unabashed tears, and so was Harry's. He knew what she was going to say, he but it wouldn't be true until she said it.

"I promise you, if he only knew, he would be so proud of you. He couldn't help but to love you as much as I do."

Really, Mum? Harry thought sardonically.

"Your daddy is a very brave man Harry, but his job is very dangerous. He is trying to make sure that the people who killed your Gran-da and Gran Evans never hurt anyone else again. But if the bad people found out, they might kill him and they might even come after you too. I don't know if I could live if something happened to either of you," she pulled baby-Harry tight to her. He squirmed in protest, but his mum lovingly cooed to him and baby-Harry drifted peacefully back to sleep.

"You were a surprise, my heart," continued his mum. "At first, I did not know how to keep you and your daddy safe. But you see, Daddy James is a good friend of your mummy's. I went to him and asked him to help me hide you from the bad people. I told him that even your real daddy couldn't know. Not right now, anyway. Daddy James did not like the idea at first. He thinks I should have told your real daddy. But I told him that your daddy's job is so dangerous he doesn't need to worry about protecting us too. The worry would only put him in more danger. So Daddy James claimed you as his own, married me, and I charmed you so that you would look more like Daddy James so no one would ask questions…Pretty clever, huh?"

Harry grabbed the hair at the top of his head, and squeezed the fist with his other hand. His whole body shook with overwhelming sadness and suppressed rage over what his mother had done.

"No, No, No! Mum…how could you!" Harry cried. "It was so clever, it practically ruined both of our lives and made my own father hate me!"

Harry desperately wished he could make his mother hear him so she would realise that she was making a very big mistake.

"But I promise you Harry, once this war is over, you and your daddy will know the truth. Like it or not, I'll have to tell you both sometime. If I don't remove it myself, this little charm," she said as ran her fingers through baby-Harry's hair, "will only last fifteen years."

"I'll tell you another secret, Love. You were really named after your gran-da and your daddy." She leaned in and whispered into baby-Harry's ear. It was secret meant only for him. "Your real name is Harold Severus Snape."

Remember to breathe, Harry, he had to remind himself.

The memory had ended. And now Harry found himself staring down at his feet whilst he still held an iron grip on the Pensieve. He was breathing heavily and sweating buckets from the physical and emotional exertion.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Harry turned around, startled by the intruding voice.

From behind his desk, the Headmaster looked on with concern. Snape…his father…also stood, staring at Harry, but the stern professor's body language remained impassive and Harry had no clue as to what he was thinking.

Harry stood—fixed in his place and met the Potion Master's black gaze. Harry thought the professor had started to say something, but then decided he must have imagined it.

Feeling that he could stand no more Harry said hoarsely, "I think I need to get out of here," and ran out of the Headmaster's office as fast as his tired legs could carry him.

Severus' eyes followed as Potter fled the office. The heavy oak door slammed behind the boy and the echo reverberated off the stone walls. Neither Severus nor the Headmaster commented on the boy's reaction to the memory.

He and Potter had locked gazes for a tense moment. The boy's turmoil was palpable and Severus had been tempted to ask him what he had seen, but thought better of it. Severus could not afford to become affected by Potter's emotions before he had a chance to see Lily's memories for himself.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster," he answered numbly.

"It is time."

Severus stepped up to the Pensieve. He grasped the edge of the stone basin and held tight lest he begin to quake. His Lily dwelled somewhere within. Severus stared into the Pensieve and allowed it to draw him in.

Severus violently pulled himself from the Pensieve. His grip on the font was hard enough, it threatened to crumble the stone.

Severus said raspingly under his breath, "Lily…what have you done?"

"Severus? What did you see?"

Before Severus could answer Albus, he had to regain his composure. He took a hesitant step back from the Pensieve then turned towards the Headmaster.

"He is my son, Albus."

Severus bowed his head and allowed his black hair to curtain his face, else the Headmaster see his remorseful tears.

By the time Harry reached the stone gargoyle at the bottom of the Headmaster's spinning staircase, the nausea finally overpowered him. He stood on the bottom step and doubled over, clenching his stomach as he heaved out what little food he had managed to get down that day.

After sicking-up for what was only about a minute, but what seemed like forever to Harry, he shakily took his wand from his sleeve and Scourgified his mess from the stone floor.

Now his only thoughts were on escape. He could not leave the castle grounds but had to find someplace where the Headmaster and Snape couldn't find him.

He bounced on his heals with nervous energy, hitting his fist against his thigh, whilst he tried to think of a place he could hide.

"Where…Where!" Harry frantically muttered to himself.

He did not have access to the common rooms. Harry would happily hide in the Slytherin common room if he had the damn password. He didn't care where he was, just as long as nobody found him.

Despite his still aching legs, Harry would have run up to hide in the Astronomy Tower if he didn't know that was the first place they would look for him…after Snape's quarters, that is.

Then it struck Harry. His broom was is Snape's chambers. Nobody could get to him on his broom. If he hurried, he could run down to the dungeon and grab it before Snape was finished with Mum's memory.

But the professor wasn't 'Snape' anymore, he was Harry's father.

Harry couldn't afford the luxury of thinking about that yet. Not until he had hold of his broom.

Harry kept chanting to himself, "Not yet…not yet, " as he raced up the corridor with his broom in hand.

As he approached the entrance, Harry ran as hard as he could, jumped on his Firebolt, and took off like a shot into the evening sky.

Harry climbed almost vertically with speed fuelled by anger, fear and uncertainty. He headed straight towards the stars and when Harry had finally reached as high as the wards would allow, he levelled his broom. He leaned forward, wrapped his arms around the broom handle, and depending only on his Firebolt for support, Harry cried with everything he had in him.

"Take this, Severus."

Severus sat in one of the chairs across from the Headmaster's desk. Albus reached around from behind him and offered Severus a crystal tumbler filled with a good measure of his strongest Scotch.

Severus took the glass and Albus settled in the chair previously occupied by Pott...

But it wasn't Potter anymore…was it?

Severus ran his hand through his stringy hair as he swallowed the elixir in one hard shot.

Severus knew how dejected he must look to his mentor. He couldn't stand the look of pity that began to form across Albus' face but Severus felt far too defeated to say anything about it.

"I am at a loss, Albus," Severus said with deep uncertainty "I don't know what to do?" It was more of a question…a plea for advice, than a statement.

It had been years since Severus sought counsel from Albus Dumbledore. But the ancient wizard was still his mentor and for the first time in fourteen years Severus would welcome his advice.

The Headmaster sat in his chair, nursing his own glass of Scotch. He asked Severus in a voice wrought with sympathy, "Tell me, Severus. What did you see?"

Severus took a cleansing breath. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing before he had the strength to say anything. "It was a ruse…Her marriage to Potter."

The Headmaster remained silent for a moment, almost as if he were wondering if he heard Severus correctly. "Why?" Albus finally asked. "If I heard this from anyone else but you, I would be disinclined to believe it. Why would Lily and James do something like this?"

"To protect me and Po...Harry," Severus corrected.

"From Voldemort?"

Severus nodded, "Yes. She was afraid that if it became known that Po…he…was my…my child, my life and theirs would have been forfeit to the Dark Lord."

"And would they have been, Severus?"

Severus couldn't contain his rage any longer. He jumped out of his chair and paid no attention as the crystal glass that once held his liquid courage, shattered into tiny shards on the floor.

"Yes!" He cried out in anger, "But I would have done everything within my power to see that the situation never went that far!"

Severus turned towards the Pensieve and shouted as if Lily could hear him beyond the grave, "I would have found a way to keep them safe! She should have trusted me!"

Albus seemed unaffected by Severus' outburst and Severus' could see the serious contemplation behind his wise, old eyes as the Headmaster chose his words deliberately. "As determined a man as you are Severus, do you think you're being realistic?"

"Are you defending her?" Severus asked in outrage. "What other choice would I have had? I know my family would have had to be kept secret! But I would NEVER have denied my responsibility to my wife and my son!"

"I'm not saying that I like what Lily did any more than you do, Severus, but look at this from her perspective. What if you had been exposed and what would the consequences have been?"

A cold chill ran down Severus' spine as he thought of what could have happened to his family had the Dark Lord found out. "Too gruesome to contemplate," he admitted more to himself than to the Headmaster. The Dark Lord would have 'made examples' of Severus and his family if he had been exposed.

"Misguided though she was, perhaps Lily's course of action was more understandable than you care to admit."

Severus felt defeated. He hung his head, not ready to face the reality of what he just had learned. "I cannot help but to feel robbed of my family, Albus. My wife…my son…If only I would have known. I would have backed out of my duties as a spy for them. It was for me to take care of my family—not Potter. Even after…it happened. Things would have been much different, had I known." Severus had only just managed to choke out his last words. It was taking much more energy than he cared to admit to keep himself from breaking down into tears in front of the Headmaster.

"Severus, I am sure that Lily would not have kept this from you forever," Albus said sagely.

Severus shook his head. "No, she wouldn't have," Severus reluctantly admitted. "In the memory…she said that she would someday tell me."

"Then it was a matter of her dying before she had the chance. It is obvious that her deception was not fabricated out of a sense of malice."

"But why now?" Severus asked desperately. "She could have sent this message sooner. She could have sent it to me! Why wait until the bloody charm began to lift? It's been fifteen years, Albus!"

"I did not see the memory, Severus, and I certainly cannot claim to read Lily's mind and know her rationale, so I am afraid I can't give you a reasonable answer." The Headmaster finally took a sip from the glass he had been nursing. Severus thought the old man looked as if he needed a drink.

The Headmaster seemed to ruminate on some thought, and Severus felt as if he would scream if Albus didn't say something soon.

Finally having enough of the interminable silence, Severus was about to go off on another tirade when the Headmaster finally spoke. "As distressing as I find Lily's actions to have been, I am afraid what has been done, is done."

"Well thanks a lot for your sage wisdom, old man," Severus said bitterly. "You don't think I could have figured out that bit for myself?"

The Headmaster raised his hand and motioned for Severus to sit back down. Severus returned to the chair. He thought about another drink, but the temptation to get drunk was too strong, so he decided just to lean back and listen to whatever useless advice his mentor had to offer.

"Please, let me finish, Severus," Albus began. "The question I have for you, is now that you have been enlightened to the truth, what do you intend to do about it?"

Severus turned to the Headmaster and said incredulously, "What do I intend to do about it? Mr Potter is almost a man, Albus, and there is too much bad blood between us. What do you think I am to do? It's a bit late for bedtime stories and fatherly advice now, don't you think?"

Severus covered his eyes, and pressed his hand into his throbbing temple. He couldn't allow himself to think back on all of the lost years and missed opportunities.

How could Lily have done this to him? She knew he had always wanted a son. But as angry as Severus was, he still loved her. He had never stopped loving her. But nothing Lily had done could equal Severus' sins. Severus had done more to ruin any chance of a relationship with his son than Lily's mistake ever could.

Severus had mercilessly harangued an innocent boy for four years, simply because the child had the unfortunate kismet to resemble Severus' school-yard bully. Whether Potter…Harry…was his son or not, did not matter. Severus had been so very, very, wrong to abuse his authority for the sake of revenge on a dead enemy.

Severus hung his head in shame and he could no longer hold back the treacherous tears.

"Oh, Albus…What have I done?"

Severus felt his mentor's comforting hand rest between his slumped shoulders. "Nothing that cannot be fixed should you put your mind to it, I assure you," Albus said, seemingly knowingly.

Severus still couldn't look Albus in the face. He kept is head hung as he lamented, "Albus, haven't you listened to…"

"I have excellent hearing, Severus. I heard every word you said," Albus said evenly. "Here, take this."

Severus looked up from his hands to see that the Headmaster was offering a handkerchief. Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, Severus snatched the handkerchief from Albus' rheumatic fingers and hid his face once again. It wouldn't do to have the Headmaster see Severus blow his nose.

"Now as I was saying, and I appreciate if you would hear me out," Severus heard the Headmaster begin, "I have no doubt, that had there not been a war, today you and Lily would be happily raising your family together. But as it happens, there was—and still is a war. It will not do you service to dwell upon 'what if.' You… my dear lad, need to focus upon the here and now. The woman who would have been your wife is gone, never to return, but your son, Severus…your son…is alive…and here today. You were not robbed of your son…he has only been missing…and tonight…you found him."

Severus lifted his head and stared at Albus in disbelief.

"You obviously haven't heard a single word I've said, " Severus said harshly through his dry throat. "It's too late Albus. The wounds run too deep and there are scars that may never heal. I cannot hope that Potter…the boy…could forgive me for my treatment of him over the past four years. I've done too much damage. You are suggesting the impossible."

"You're wrong, Severus," Albus said with certainty. "Harry is one of the most forgiving souls I have ever encountered, and I have encountered many."

Severus could almost hear the twinkle return to the Headmaster's eyes. "After all, was not the entire reason he returned to Hogwarts this summer, was so you and he could form a bond? Is it truly that far of a leap from a relationship as estimable master and apprentice to that of loving father and son."

"I have no right to expect…Harry," using the boy's Christian name felt so unnatural to Severus. "I have no right to expect him to respect me as a father," he repeated quickly. The notion that the boy could ever love him as a father was unfathomable and Severus wouldn't allow himself to dwell upon it.

"I don't think I can give the boy what he needs. We are strangers." Severus confessed more to himself than to Albus.

Unsure where it had come from, Severus felt a cup of strong black coffee warming his hands. He took a welcome sip as the Headmaster spoke, "Severus…when a child is born, it is a stranger to the world. And the miracle of parenthood is, that you can love that little stranger from the very first time you lay eyes upon him. No parent starts out knowing their child, Severus. But they do start out loving their child…in the knowing that that child is theirs."

"It's been fifteen years, Albus," Severus said weakly.

"Ah, but Severus—'Potter' may have been your student for the past four years, but you have just been introduced to your son-Harry, for the first time today."

"But, Albus…"

The Headmaster cut Severus off, apparently knowing what Severus' next argument would be. "Do not worry yourself, Severus. You may find that fatherhood will come more naturally than you think."

Severus thought hard on all Albus had just said. He thought the Headmaster was being overly optimistic in Severus' ability to affect any change, but Severus suddenly found himself with an undeniable urge to do something.

Severus looked to Albus. "I wish to re-enter the Pensieve."

Albus smiled and nodded knowingly.

Severus stepped up to the Pensieve. He gazed into the silver abyss, but this time the magic did not have to take him. Severus' compulsion came from within and with a renewed purpose, he one again delved into Lily's memory.

There they were.

She was cradling him…rocking their child to sleep.

Their child.

The baby she held in her arms was not Potter's. Harry belonged to Severus.

Severus approached the tableau, aware that he could not touch them, but knelt down before them, as close as he could without disturbing the tranquil scene.

Severus gazed into the familiar emerald eyes of the mother and son.

His son.

Lily had made a monumental error in judgment, but she had never betrayed Severus in favour of Potter.

She loved him.

She had always loved him.

How scared she must have been in those final days. Had she regretted what she had done? Did she long for Severus? How close was the end when she finally felt the need to save her memories for their son?

Lily and Potter had been in hiding for over a year—since before Harry was born. Severus knew they exchanged safe-houses many times in an effort to keep one step ahead of the Dark Lord. Albus had finally suggested that they go into hiding under the Fidelius only a week before that fateful night in Godric's Hallow.

Had Potter and Black stuck to the original plan, Lily and Potter might still be alive today. Severus had no clue as to when Pettigrew joined the ranks of the Death Eaters. Only the Dark Lord knew the names of all of his minions. No doubt if Black and Potter had not made the colossally stupendous error in judgment of making Pettigrew the Secret Keeper, the rat would have been tortured to death by the Dark Lord for lack of any useful information, long ago.

But would Severus really have been any closer to having his family back? If the Dark Lord had not of been vanquished that night, the war could have kept on indefinitely. He might never have known the truth.

But Lily would have still been alive and his son would not have been without his mother. Now that he thought on it, it was a sacrifice Severus would have made, if given the choice.

Sleep my child and peace attend thee…
All through the night…
Guardian angels God will send thee…
All through the night…

As Lily sang her lullaby, Severus gave into temptation. Severus tried to stoke her fiery hair, but his hand passed through his Lily as if she were only a shadow.

Severus then turned his attention to his son…Harry.

How much of Severus lay beneath Potter's image?

Would he ever know? Of course he would. Harry would change.

Severus imagined himself in the room with them…as he should have been.

…O'er they spirit gently stealing…
…Visions of delight revealing…
…Breathes a pure and holy feeling…
…All through the night…

Severus reached out his hand, as if to touch Harry's baby soft face, but he stopped just as he was about to touch the memory. He did not want to disturb the angelic face of his sleeping son.

Harry yawned, and Severus could briefly see those emerald eyes. "So much like your mother," he whispered in awe. Severus had never looked beyond the boy's glasses.

Sometimes…those times when Severus had dwelled upon the 'what ifs', he imagined a scene very much like this one…Lily singing their child to sleep, whilst he looked on with unabashed love and pride.

…Though sad fate our lives may sever…
…Parting will not last forever…
…There's a hope that leaves me never…
…All through the night.