Unfortunately the pain cream did not work for longer than a few hours, and in fact became less and less effective if used more than a few times a day. However Snape was making good use of the small window of pain-free time it did provide him; it became a personal priority to help accelerate Lily's education about spells and potions that could help her in the hospital wing. Snape also began the meticulously complicated brewing process for the powerful golden elixir, something which he knew Dumbledore would need continuously in order to help contain the curse in his hand throughout the time he had left.

There was also the theory regarding powerful phoenix properties that Snape had been contemplating but had yet to test…

Although he was still easily weakened, the headmaster was getting stronger by the day. In the hopes of keeping knowledge of the curse from reaching the Dark Lord's ears, it had been put to the remaining staff in the castle that the headmaster was traveling. This not only kept him out of sight while he recovered, but was also a very believable scenario since the man had been traveling often throughout the past few school years.

The only ones who knew the truth about his condition were Harry, Lily, and Snape.

After a long conversation that fateful night which had lasted well into the wee hours of the morning, Snape and Lily had decided to keep Harry away from the headmaster the first few days in order to prevent the boy from seeing the powerful wizard at his weakest point. Although Harry was well aware that some dark magic had affected Dumbledore, they did not want him agonizing about the man's impending death – not with the literal weight of the wizarding world already on the boy's shoulders.

The thought of Albus Dumbledore's death was something that Snape constantly obsessed over. Even with the curse and the Unbreakable Vow ominously hovering in the back of his mind, he refused to believe that there was nothing left to be done, and threw his analytical and logical mind into overdrive for hours on end in a desperate attempt to think of a solution.

But the days seemed to get shorter as additional chores and preparations needed to be completed for the approaching school year, and he found that there was less and less time to dwell on the dire situation.

With Snape's expert guidance, Lily prepared large batches of health restorative potions, which were then bottled into small vials which Snape or Lily brought to the headmaster twice a day. Lily often stayed to have long philosophical discussions with Dumbledore, or to read to the man to keep him company. Snape preferred to settle in for a game of Wizard's Chess, which didn't require him to move his hands and made him feel like he could still be of some use. He won just as many games as he lost against the old man, but had to admit he was proud to see that the two of them were equally matched.

It was on one such occasion, as the two wizards sat quietly analyzing the chessboard before them, that Dumbledore questioned Snape about his hands.

"Rook to A6," the headmaster directed quietly, and the small turreted tower slid across the board to rest dangerously close to one of Snape's bishops. "How are you getting on with your therapy, Severus?" he asked suddenly.

"Fine. Bishop to D4," Snape retorted gruffly. He hated any mention of his hands – it served to remind him of all he still couldn't do, which just made him feel incompetent and like less of a wizard. "Why do you ask?"

"Your joints are getting better? You are now able to hold a wand?"

"You've seen me do so on multiple occasions," Snape growled.

"Indeed," the headmaster answered warmly. "And I know that you have surpassed what Dr. Gunderson and Poppy expected from you, even with therapy. You seem to be recovering faster than anticipated, no doubt thanks to that wonderful cream of Lily's." His eyes fairly sparkled as he gazed warmly at the man across from him.

Snape only grunted, but secretly he agreed with Dumbledore. Lily's cream not only helped him deal with the pain, but also maintained his dignity as both a man and a wizard. "What exactly is this about?" he asked the headmaster suspiciously.

"Well, I've been thinking–"

"Merlin help us," Snape sighed, awkwardly pinching the bridge of his nose with his swollen fingers.

Studying the chess pieces laid out on the board before him, Dumbledore continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Although I'm ecstatic to see that you are on the mend, I don't believe you will be able to continue teaching Potions – not with all the delicate work that preparing, brewing, and eight hours of daily teaching requires."

"I'm fully aware of my current inability where potions are concerned," Snape murmured darkly.

"Indeed," Dumbledore answered apologetically. But then he continued, "Even so, your worth still needs to be uniquely unmatched in Voldemort's mind. There is safety in that. So it occurred to me that perhaps you should accept the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

Snape was quiet for long moments, studying the headmaster as he attempted to control his breathing and sudden racing pulse. Yes, he had considered the possibility of becoming the new DADA professor – in all honesty it looked to be the only plausible option. But even so, the thought of attracting even more of the Dark Lord's deadly attention – as this new position was sure to do – made Snape's iron-like composure seem to crumble like sand against the pounding surf.

I will be even closer to the Dark Lord than I am already. And for once in my life, that thought is agonizing. His stomach lurched so violently that he feared he would be sick right there in Dumbledore's office. My family… What horrific tortures will the Dark Lord inflict upon them if he discovers the truth?

"Severus?" Dumbledore intoned softly, and Snape's gaze snapped up to collide with a piercing blue look that was tinged with concern.

His dark eyes narrowed as he attempted to place his terror behind his shields. But no matter what he did, Snape could no longer escape the feeling that the walls were closing in around him and leaving him nowhere left to run.

"You do realize that the position is cursed?" he sneered, leaning forward to pluck a black knight off the chessboard. Watching the edges of the obsidian piece reflect the light as he examined the carved stone, Snape murmured, "Making me DADA professor means that my tenure here at Hogwarts will come to an end within the next year."

There was a note of sad acquiescence in the headmaster's voice when he quietly responded, "In a year's time, I don't believe it will matter."

. . . . .

Snape stood on the edge of the Quidditch pitch, arms crossed tightly against his chest as he squinted against the bright afternoon sun. The pitch was still and quiet, and Harry's voice carried clear across the lush grass to where he stood.

"Put your hand there – a little higher… Yeah, right there. Now hold on tight, because you're going to kick off hard from the ground and go up, ok?"

After Snape's conversation with Dumbledore, he obviously hadn't been thinking clearly. Somehow the two of them had convinced him to allow Harry to give Jilly her first flying lesson. Snape must have been more distracted than he realized, because for some reason he couldn't explain, he'd said yes.

After much whining, begging, and pleading from them both, he had absolutely forbade Jilly from riding the Firebolt until she was at least ten-years-old and could prove to Snape that she could handle the 150+ MPH speeds. He wasn't that far gone, after all. So Harry had been forced to borrow one of the school's old Shooting Stars, and in fact admitted to Jilly that this was the same broom he had ridden after his Nimbus 2000 had been destroyed by the whomping willow.

Hovering above Jilly about ten feet off the ground, Harry called down, "Ok Jillian, kick off hard! I'm right here, I won't let anything happen to you!"

Snape couldn't help the small half-smile that crossed his lips as the girl successfully kicked off for the first time, and she and Harry whooped and cheered.

"Look, Harry! I'm flying! I'm actually flying!"

"Way to go, Jilly! You want to make a couple laps around the pitch?"

"Not too high, Harry!" Snape yelled. "And not too fast! She's still learning!"

"Don't worry, Dad. I've got her!"

"Yes, that's what worries me," Snape grumbled to himself.

"I heard that!" Harry called as they flew past directly above him.

As the lesson continued and Snape began to relax, he started mumbling to himself like he always did when he was alone and concentrating. "Watch it, Harry – that might be a tight turn. Even out a little, Jilly… There you go. Good job, kid. You know, the boy isn't half bad at teaching–"

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind, and Lily couldn't stop herself from laughing.

"Woman…" he growled, scrubbing his face with his hand to cover his surprise, but still tucking her firmly underneath his arm against his side. "I thought you were working with Pomfrey in the hospital wing."

"Minerva came by and told us what was happening. Poppy shoo'd me away after that so I could come watch. You're right though – Harry is a remarkably good teacher," she announced in a cheeky tone, as if his mumbling had been meant for her. But her eyes glowed lovingly as she glanced up at him and murmured, "I bet he gets it from you."

"Humph," Snape mumbled, but secretly he was pleased by her words. "Well Jillian is not the typical little dunderhead that normally graces these halls. I'm sure that is a big factor, as well." Lily chuckled, but her arms tightened ever so slightly around his waist.

Together they quietly stood watching their children, and Snape tried to memorize everything about this moment: the sound of Harry and Jillian's laughs echoing on the breeze; the feel of the woman in his arms pressed tenderly against him; and the pure, undeniable love he felt for all of them. With the Dark Lord determined to wage war on the wizarding world – and more importantly on his son, and by default, his entire family – Severus knew that moments like these would grow fewer and farther between. But he vowed to himself that no matter what happened in the future, he would do everything in his power to remind them all that this was what life was truly about. He especially wanted to give Harry many more memories like these, so that the boy would never feel alone again.

Or maybe it was Snape himself that never again wanted to feel that way…

"Harry understands what he's fighting for," Lily murmured, her green eyes reflecting the golden light of the setting sun, and once again Snape wondered at her uncanny ability to just know. "I'm scared for him too, Severus. Being here in this place, especially talking with Albus over the last week… I can't help but hear things about Voldemort. About the prophecy and what Harry must do…" Their eyes met and held as they gazed at one another – dark and light, fear and hope mingling in the glow of the setting sun. "All we can do is love him, Sev. That is the magic that will help him defeat Voldemort."

"Mum!" They suddenly heard Jilly call, and they both turned to look at her. The girl had been so busy taking direction from Harry that she had only just noticed her mother's presence. "Look, Mum! I'm really flying!" she cried excitedly as she and Harry flew gently toward them.

"She's a natural," Harry called, coming to a stop just outside of arm's reach of the adults. He hovered lazily in the air with a large grin plastered across his face, his hair windswept and even messier than normal. "She'll be on this Firebolt by Christmas," he said, reaching out and ruffling Jilly's red hair.

"Hmmm, I don't know," Lily announced, taking on an official air but with a glint of playfulness in her eyes. "Why don't you show me what you've learned, young lady?"

"Harry just taught me the Woo-long-gong Shimmy," she called down, carefully sounding out the difficult word as she looped slowly above their heads.

"That sounds like a mouthful," Lily laughed up at her.

"Yeah, but it's fun! Watch!" And the girl proceeded to slowly zigzag a foot or two to either side for roughly a few dozen meters. Harry whooped as she turned back, and both Snape and Lily loudly clapped.

"Did you see me, Severus?" Jilly squealed excitedly.

"Indeed," he answered with a smile. "You are a quick learner. We'll make a Chaser out of you yet."

"Hey, what's wrong with Seeker?" Harry asked in a playfully affronted tone.

"You haven't seen her throwing ability."

"Oh yeah?" The boy asked, genuinely interested.

Snape chuckled as he remembered their picnic and the rocks she had easily been able to toss across the wide river. "Just you wait. Trust me – she'll make an exceptional Chaser." He couldn't help but notice the proud, excited look that passed between Harry and Jilly. Two Quidditch players in the family, he thought, shaking his head. Merlin...

"Jilly, come down for a minute won't you?" Harry asked suddenly as he lowered himself gently to the ground. Jilly was not far behind, and looked questioningly up at him as he helped her off the broomstick. There was a mischievous look to the boy's features as he glanced at Snape, then looked pointedly at Lily. "Would you like to try? You and Dad can take the Firebolt, if you'd like. I'll stay with Jilly on the Shooting Star."

"Harry…" Snape glared at him with a warning note in his voice.

"What?" his son asked innocently when Snape scowled at him darkly. "You refereed that match during my first year – you're great on a broom!" He snorted in amusement, but looked away to compose himself.

"Really?" Lily asked eagerly, looking excitedly back and forth between Harry and Snape. "Can we, Sev? I've always wondered what it would be like to fly!" Harry's eyes were watering in his attempt to hold back his laughter. The boy was perfectly aware how much Snape loathed flying by broomstick – which was why he'd only done it the once during the entire time Harry had known him. And that was only to protect the little urchin after Quirrell had attempted to kill him.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

"Please, Sev?" Lily asked. "I mean, unless your hands are hurting too much–"

"My hands are fine," he growled. Stomping over to his son, he snatched the broom out of the boy's hands and murmured, "Brat." Harry really did laugh then. Lily squealed and clapped in enthusiasm. "Don't you start," he snapped as he mounted the broomstick. "Well, come on then!"

"Thank you, Harry!" Lily said as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Snape watched the woman suspiciously, as he thought he saw her wink at the boy. However he couldn't be sure, because at that moment she hopped on the broom behind him, and he had to admit that the feeling of her soft curves pressed firmly against him as she tightly held on made it all somewhat easier to accept.

Jillian got onto the Shooting Star behind Harry, and the entire family looked expectantly around at one another.

"Ready?" Snape called.

"Yeah!" Harry and Jilly cried together.

"Let's go," Lily said breathlessly. And together the family rose into the sky. As they soared through the pinkish clouds of the setting sun, even Snape found himself laughing in joy.