Missing, presumed dead.

Those three words had etched themselves onto Severus’ soul the moment his tear-raw eyes had landed on that awful headline. His hands still shook, just as they had when he had first held that dreadful edition of the Daily Prophet, blindly watching the pretty photograph of Lily Potter holding her one year old son, Harry, tucked onto her slim hip. She had been wearing a green jersey, one which clashed gloriously with her auburn hair and matched the two pairs of gleaming eyes, smiling out of the photograph.

Missing, presumed dead.

Gone. Just gone. He’d searched everywhere, screaming her name until he tasted blood. But neither Lily or Harry were in any room of the little house at Godric’s Hollow. They had gone.

But how? There had been anti-apparition wards around the house, Severus could sense them quite clearly, the windows were all closed, there were no footmarks outside. Three brooms, one of which was pathetically small, still lay forlorn in the cupboard.

Besides, James was dead, slumped in the hallway, and Severus had seen the Dark Lords robes and wand in the nursery, before the fallen, splintered crib. Something had happened there. Could Lily have killed the Dark Lord and run? In the first few days some had timidly suggested that she could still be hiding, afraid, not knowing who to trust. But as the hours crawled, flew, past the hope dwindled like a candle in winter. No one had heard from her, not even Sirius…

Sirius… poor bastard. Severus could not find it in his heart to hate the ex-auror, he had even learnt to respect him. Black had, after all, copied Severus into every report of every potential sighting of Lily, possibly on Dumbledore’s request. And the man was still searching for her, after three years, when even the werewolf had lost hope. Hardly eating (Severus made him nutrient potions), hardly sleeping (some of which were spiked with dreamless sleep), never giving up.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. Insanity ran in the Black family: they had thought it had missed Sirius: despite the languid sadism of his youth, he had been amazingly well-balanced. Well, the late bloomer is always the most magnificent. Sometimes Severus envied Sirius, it would be lovely to be able to give into madness and hare around for the rest of his life, expecting to find her, alive and well, at any moment.

Severus, however, knew she was gone. He had felt it in his soul, the very moment his eyes had fallen on her home, now visible since the wards had fallen. At first, he’d had reason enough to hope Lily lived, the Dark Lord had been a man of his word. That was the one crumb of comfort that He’d offered his followers- if He said someone would live, they would be spared. He could send a stun as effective as the draught of living death, after all.

Why had He not spared her? Why were their bodies never found and what on earth could have killed the Dark Lord? It was a mystery even the Prophet had tired of, there was no answer! Well, no answer sane enough to print in a respectable paper. The Quibbler had enough ideas. Some of the rag's readership had even thought Lily had run away with Pettigrew. (Remus had seen to the traitor, sniffed him out like the wolf he was. Ever since the werewolf had brought the backstabbing rat to justice, Severus had sent him batches of his improved wolfsbane potion, anonymously of course.)

Severus laid aside the yellowing paper and rubbed his eyes. He had soaked in misery long enough, there were draughts to make, papers to mark and a plethora of other little jobs that made up the life of a Hogwarts master. He was just pulling his aching bones out of his green leather armchair- how long had he sat, woolgathering- when a large dog patronus appeared.

Sirius! His patronus was easy enough to recognise, but one glance told him that it was not good news. The ghostly dog was prostrate, clawing at its fur, its mouth open in a rictus of agony.

“Found her!” It shrieked “Inferi. Pups! Pups! Merlin! Help!”

OoOoO

In hindsight, Severus felt that he had been foolish to believe that the worst moment of his life was seeing the house at Godric’s Hollow, door open, gaping, like a corpse’s mouth.

This was worse.

A skeleton, barely covered with leather-like skin, tufts of auburn hair hanging ragged from her skull, sat on a rock, her eyeless gaze on a two year old baby playing with a chubby four year old.

It had been Lily.

In the background Sirius gibbered, wrenching out chunks of his greying hair. Severus, cruelly, unbelievably, sane, watched the children, apparently happy and healthy and hissing to each other in Parseltongue, both naked as the day they were born.

To add to the nightmare, the youngest child, with his thick black hair and pale, pointed face, was a dead ringer for the young Tom Riddle in all aspects but his olive green eyes.

They could not stay here, they had to take them to Hogwarts. Dumbledore would know what to do. Thankfully, both the inferi and the children were relaxed, unafraid of the presence of the two strangers. The inferi Severus could understand, it was charmed to be submissive, but the children... "They fear not men in the woods because they see so few." the slip of poetry flutted ghostlike through his mind, setting Severus even more on edge. They had to leave before his sanity gave out.

Severus had swallowed and told Sirius to pick up the children. Sirius, with dog like obedience, had knelt and gathered the unresisting children into his arms whilst Severus approached the inferi. She- it- looked up, a smile forming on what remained of its lips. His heart trying to crawl out of his throat, Severus gently took hold of her ice cold arm. It had been Lily. Sirus grasped his old enemy's other arm and apperated.

0o0o0

Later, in Dumbledore’s office, when Sirius' weeping had faded, the grey faced headmaster had asked Severus for his theories. Severus had not hesitated: Voldemort had been considering an heir in those last, awful months. (Voldemort, he could say his name now, after this all respect had gone.) The dark wizard was unable to cope with any kind of rejection and all living women were capable of rejecting him, even if coerced by fear, the imperius or potions. So, to satisfy his perversions, Voldemort stole the corpses of beautiful women after raids. Only a fool would believe his excuse of needing more inferi, it was necrophilia. All of the inner circle knew. Everyone.

And the child was the heir, Voldemort must have animated Lily’s corpse to act as a caretaker. Inferi were not all for the purposes of attack: for most of recent history inferi had been guards and warriors but, earlier on, dark wizards had created all sorts of slaves from the corpses of their dead enemies.

When Voldemort had died, the inferi had sensed danger, taking off with her child and, in the depths of the woods, given birth to Voldemort’s…

As to how Voldemort had died, all Severus could suggest was that, somehow, the curse on Harry had backfired: Lily must have bartered for his life with hers, Severus had explained woodenly. Supplemented by the bad karma of breaking his oath to Severus, the breach of magical contract had reflected the killing curse which the dark wizard had aimed at the child. Contract magic was dangerous enough to have been dubbed a dark art (and would have been, if it wasn’t so damn useful.)

Severus’ monologue faded out and the three wizards sat staring vacantly at the inferi, tenderly playing with the two children.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Dumbledore whispered hoarsely “I have a contact in Egypt. He has seen many things which I prayed I would never see. He will be able to help her.”

“Can nothing be done?” Sirius asked, his mouth working frantically.

Severus shook his head, too drained to curse him for an imbecile “Nothing can bring the dead back to life.”

"But the kids, she's their mother!"

"She is an inferi!" Seveus stated baldly "This situation cannot continue."

Dumbledore steepled shaking fingers “Lily must be laid to rest. As for the boys…”

To Severus’ surprise, Sirius interrupted “We can look after them. Me n’ Severus.”

“Us?!” Severus heard someone answer. It must have been him, it had been Severus’s voice.

Sirus turned, his eyes dead but for a spark of determination. “Us. I’m Harry’s godfather and you because you know mind magic, can heal and, besides, you speak parseltongue.”

“I… a parselmouth!?”

“Some of the aurors who fought him, the ones who returned, knew that mind magic thing.” Sirius replied “They said his mind was a mess, apparently half of his thoughts were English, half parseltongue, all mixed up together. But you got us information from Him and, besides, everyone knew you were a swot at languages, all those books in funny writing. You must be able to understand a bit at least.”

Severus nodded “Well deduced.” He looked over at the boys, then at Dumbledore, whose expression was suddenly appraising. The idea of them, two bachelors, one obviously insane and the over covertly insane, trying to raise too emotionally broken children was foolish. It had to be stamped out. Before it took root.

“Harry must have relatives, people who would contest…”

Dumbledore broke in “Harry’s only adult blood relative is Petunia Dursley… I do not think, after what has happened… although I could raise blood wards if we were to place Harry and his brother…”

Severus shook his head firmly “Petunia is out of the question, she abhors magic.”

“Besides, she’s a right spiteful bitch” Sirius added “She made Lily miserable, couldn’t get over that her sister had magic and she didn’t, and it would be the same with Harry and the baby. Me n’ Snape have had our differences but at least we’ve grown up!”

“Black…” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “We. Are. Not. Suitable. You have had a mental breakdown…” Severus cursed himself, now was no time to behave like a brash Gryffindor.

“I know I did but I’m better now. I’ve found them!” Sirius replied “It messed my head up not knowing what happened but now I do, its horrible but at least I know.” Sirius looked at him, determination bringing back some of the old strength and resolve to his face. “Who else could do it? Who would want to do it? Even without… without their upbringing, that kid is the child of He Who Must Not Be Named! Who would want them?”

Dumbledore stood up, pacing the room. “Severus, Lily died for Harry and this child, the baby is an innocent, regardless of his parentage.”

Severus shook his head “The son is not the father. I am aware… but…”

“And he is Lily’s son. They both are Lily’s sons.” Dumbledore added

“No one else would want to take them and, besides who else could protect them like we could? I was a crack auror once, and you were…” Sirius raised his head proudly, determined to say tell the truth “you were one of the best duellers in our year!”

Severus swallowed.

“We can do it!” Sirius insisted.

“Yes, I suppose we can…”