Summary: long-concealed secrets are revealed, fears are shared, relationships are shifted.

See chapter one for full disclaimers; further notes and credits at end.
 
 

"Severus…"

"Please."  He took her hands, desperation in his eyes, and kissed her.  Despite his bruising grip, the kiss was tender, and Lily felt herself relax.

"Stay," she murmured, and was rewarded with a kiss on her earlobe and a whisper of breath:

"Thankyou."

She was relaxed in his arms, warm and exceedingly comfortable, when he turned his attention from her mouth to her neck, and his fingers moved to the buttons of her pajamas.

This is why Mum didn't want you to come, whispered the nasty little Petunia-voice in her mind. Slut, it added for good measure.

Go away, Lily told the voice, but the thought had been like a dose of cold water.

Her mother would kill her if she found out … and she would find out, for Lily would never be able to look her in the eye…

"Severus."

"Mmm?"

"We should stop."

Even in shadow, he looked annoyed.  "Please."

"I can't.  I'm sorry."

He rolled off her and lay back, staring up at the ceiling.  Lily sensed that his pride would not permit him to ask again, and she was grateful.

They lay together in silence.  Lily's side was warm where it rested against Severus, but otherwise, they weren't touching.

After a long time, Severus stirred, sitting up.  He looked down at Lily, his eyes unreadable in the darkness. "I need – you should know what—" He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, it was with his usual composure.  "I need to show you something.  Downstairs."

His voice was flat and his mouth was set.  Lily wrapped herself in his green and silver jumper, picked up her wand and allowed him to lead her by the hand.

They moved past the kitchen and further down the staircase.  At last, two levels down, the stairs ended before a new-looking door.

"Alohomora," said Severus.  The door unlocked, and opened without a noise.  Severus swallowed, looking into the darkness, and then moved forward.

They were in a cellar, and Lily shivered as her feet touched the stone floors.  It was far colder in here than anywhere else in the house, and she was glad of Severus' jumper.  The light from his wand revealed dark walls and a low ceiling.  An old table stood in the centre of the room, a deep crack running through the stone.  Every surface was covered in red-brown stains.

"Isaac died down here, then?"  Her voice echoed in the cellar.

"When we were eight.  Nearly nine."  Severus swallowed.  "It was our father."

"He killed his own son?"

"He held the knife.  He cut the flesh."

"He could he?"

Severus leaned against the stone table, speaking softly and clearly.  "To his credit, he refused when our godfather told him that the spell was most effective when it used the blood of the eldest son.  But our godfather insisted … I can remember the fight."  He smiled thinly.  "I was listening at the door, you see.  They were in the library… my father cried.  Begged for an alternative.  But my godfather put him under Imperius.  And Father killed Isaac."

"That's unspeakable."

"It gets worse.  Because my mother was eavesdropping, too, and she called the Ministry.  She'd known for years that they practiced the Dark Arts, but … I don't know.  She never did anything to prevent it until now."  He shuddered.  "She was too late.  The Aurors arrived in the middle of the spell.  The whole sacrifice was worthless."

"Where were you?"

"Hiding.  Like a coward."

"I don't think so."  Lily touched his shoulder, but he didn't respond.

"The Aurors found me hiding under the piano, cringing in the corner. One dragged me out. I was shrieking, I remember that.  My throat was sore, but I kept screaming…

"The Auror pushed me down on the couch and interrogated me.  He and his partner.  They were brothers.  They asked all sorts of questions … about my family, and about the Dark Arts.  I tried to lie, but they knew … one of them hit me."  He absently rubbed his jaw.  "My parents never hit me.  I didn't expect it … but the Longbottoms are like that.  Placid and brutal all at once.  I don't trust them."  He moved backwards, until he hit the wall and sagged to the floor.  Lily joined him, sitting in his lap and letting him hold her.

"I'm sorry," said Lily.  The words didn't begin to cover what she felt, but Severus shook his head.

"I don't want pity.  I just wanted you to know."

"What happened after that?"

"My godfather was killed in this room.  Trying to duel Alastor Moody, I heard.  My father was released from Imperius, but they found plenty of evidence of other crimes.  He was sentenced to life in Azkaban.  I can remember when the Dementors took him away from the house.  It was the last time I ever saw him.  He was still crying…

"The thing I remember most clearly was that Isaac was dead.  And it felt like someone had ripped my soul into pieces."  He stroked her hand, and kissed it.  "Like I'm half a person."

"God, Severus… I don't know what to say.  Do many people know?"

"A few.  My friends in Slytherin, of course … they visit this house, and their parents knew my father.  Longbottom knows."  Severus scowled.  "He's like his father.  Brutal inside.  And Potter knows … he said that he found the Ministry's records.  I imagine that he knows more than I do."

"He hasn't told anyone."

"He hasn't told you, you mean.  But I imagine it was a topic of much mirth in the boys dorms."

"Severus…"  But she knew, instinctively, that the boys still had secrets from her, and she couldn't – wouldn't – defend James if she wasn't absolutely certain that she did so in good faith.

"I can't talk anymore," he whispered, and pulled her closer.  "I've never told anyone…"

They sat in silence, wrapped around each other on the cold stones.  The air was stale, and Lily fancied that there was still a tang of blood in the atmosphere.

This twisted family saga was far beyond her understanding, Lily realised, a melodrama more appropriate to gothic novels.  But it was Severus' life, as routine as preparing a potion or cooking a meal.

No, she thought, it wasn't routine.  If it were, he would have been able to cope, eventually.  Instead, he was damaged, possibly irreparably.

She stroked his hands and wondered if she'd ever be able to make it better.

This thought reminded her of something, and she said, "Severus?  What happened to your hands?  And how'd you get those bruises?  Really."

He was silent, and she thought that she'd offended him.

Then he began to speak.

"You can learn a lot from books, but magic is different.  It's a rare witch or wizard who can learn magic entirely from books.  These summer house parties … they're social events, yes, but they're also a chance for leading Dark witches and wizards to teach the next generation."

"My God…"

"Not all of them.  Some.  Enough."

"What do they do?"

"The Dark Arts are taught best in darkness.  That's what they said, the first time."

"Cellars.  They locked you in cellars."

"Well, the Malfoys have dungeons.  They're famous for it.  But yes, we were locked in, without wands.  Sometimes in groups, sometimes on our own.  But we were never truly alone.  There were always Boggarts, or Pogrebins, or whatever they had for us.  But it was bad enough to be in solitude."

"How long were you in there?  You were only gone for a couple of weeks each time."

"Lucius has a Time Turner."

"Oh, Severus…"

He shook his head.  "I survived.  I did well, even.  And my injuries were self-inflicted, for the most part."

"Not all of them."

"No.  Not all."  Severus exhaled slowly, and said, "Igor Karkaroff.  Has an idiosyncratic attitude towards courtship, and odd taste in lovers."  He sounded almost amused as he said, "he told me I was beautiful.  Admittedly he'd been drinking, but I'm still worried about his obvious blindness.'

Lily refused to be sidetracked.  "What happened?"

"Nothing.  Or at least, not what Karkaroff wanted.  I fought him off, eventually.  I'd have tried a bit of blackmail, but I was worried about memory charms."

"Severus…"

"Don't.  I'm fine."  He shook his head.  "You're Gryffindor.  You don't understand.  Abuse like that has been traditional in Slytherin for centuries."

"It's awful."

"It's improving.  Eighty years ago, not even I--" he gestured vaguely, taking in his face and body-- "would have been able to go six years without duelling one potential – protector.  Spawforth would like to take credit for the changes, but it's really all Crowley."

"Why?  How does she make the difference?"

"She cares.  She listens.  She takes action.  She should be the Head of House – she does all she can, but she lacks Spawforth's authority.  And Slytherin needs a Head of House that cares."

"I don't see the point of all this abuse.  Don't you just end up with a lot of Dark witches and wizards who hate you?"

"Half the fun, I imagine.  And there's … a certain amount of incentive for the student to become the master."

"So you can become the bully, you mean?"  And why do you consent to this, she didn't ask.  This was more than an academic interest, this was a full-blown apprenticeship.

Severus said nothing more for the rest of the night.  Lily settled into his embrace, wondering how she could save this boy she loved from falling further into darkness.

***

They emerged from the cellar late in the morning.  The house was empty; Madam Snape had evidently left for work.

Lily was stiff and sore from the hours in the grim chambers below.  Severus, who had been sitting directly on cold stone, should have been in even more discomfort, but he was almost light-hearted, by his standards.  He kissed her passionately as she prepared her breakfast, and kept a hand tangled in her hair or resting on her arm as they ate.

His good mood evaporated, though, when Isaac appeared as they made their way upstairs.  Severus froze, his grip on Lily's hand tightening.

"She didn't let you sleep with her, then?" said the ghost.

"Fuck off, Isaac," Severus snapped.

"You've been telling our secrets."

"I had to tell her."

"It's none of her business."

Lily had had enough.  "Oh, for heaven's sake," she said, "by what right do you have any say in Severus' life anymore?"

Isaac stared at her.  "I'm his brother."

"You're dead.  You're a nasty, sadistic little boy, and you have no right to play these games with your family."

Isaac hovered at Lily's eye level.  In a whisper that reminded her of the Bloody Baron, he said, "And what family do you claim, that you speak to me like that?"

Lily drew herself to her full height.  "I am Liliane Alexandra Madison Evans, witch and Gryffindor.  And alive.  Very much alive."  She dropped her voice and whispered, "and you will stay the hell away from me and the people I love."

Isaac stared at her, wide-eyed.  Then he disappeared.

They didn't see him again for the rest of her visit.

***

Several days later, they were sitting under a tree with their feet dangling in a rocky pool of water.  Lily asked, "Is your mother really planning to get married again?"

"Possibly.  She speaks of it, sometimes."

"I just wondered.  She seems so – so—"

"Unlovable?"

"I didn't like to say it…"

"Personality is irrelevant, apparently.  Nathan Pascal has been her devoted slave for as long as I can remember."

"That's rather sweet, really."

"It's pathetic."

"Where would you go, if she remarried?"

"Go?  We'd stay here. This house belonged to her family, not my father's."

"Really?"  Lily shook her head, wondering why she hadn't thought of that.

"Really.  You know the statue, down in the second courtyard?"

Lily frowned; there were quite a few statues around the house and courtyards.  "The man in breeches?"

"That's my great-great-grandfather."

"Oh.  It's, um, very well-made."  Which was really the nicest thing she could find to say about the statue, aside from the fact that it was a remarkable portrayal of a man experiencing pure terror.

"No, I mean it really is my great-great-grandfather.  He was something of an aficionado of Muggle culture – he gambled with them a great deal. I believe it began as a means of funding his wizarding games, it being easier to swindle a Muggle than another wizard.  But he became quite enamoured of Muggle culture.  This was in the late 1700s – I don't recall the exact year – and the Muggle world was mad for the Classical world.  This infected my ancestor, who took himself off to Greece and married a Gorgon."

Lily stared.  "But – but – a Gorgon?  I know they're officially Beings, but then, so are Centaurs, and I wouldn't rush to marry one of those, either.  At least a Centaur can't kill you with a look."

"Yes, well, that was my ancestor's downfall, if you hadn't guessed.  At first, his wife was happy to wear veils, but she grew homesick, and he wouldn't allow her to leave."

"So she turned him to stone."

"Yes.  I suppose a Mandrake potion might restore him, but it would be cruelty, really, bringing him back after so much time… And in any case, he wasn't a popular man.  His creditors wanted to sell the statue to pay his debts, but they didn't get past the family retainers."

"What happened to his wife?"

"She was already pregnant by that stage, but she went back to Greece, and the property passed on to another branch of the family.  This was the half-blood branch, in fact, and the magic grew weaker and weaker, until they were essentially Muggles.  By the time the last one died, no one in the family even believed that they had once been magical."

"And then it passed back to the Greek branch?"

"Eventually.  There were a few Muggle owners – you should have seen what they did to the house; it took my grandfather years to restore it to something respectable – but it passed back to my family eventually.  There was something of a legal dispute with Black's grandfather—" His lips pursed – "he felt that his claim to the property was better than ours.  Needless to say, the solicitors disagreed."

"Do you like your home?"

"Not the house.  But the land, and the area – they please me.  We worked very hard to reclaim this land.  We're tied to it.  Even the Muggles must have understood that somehow – various illegitimate sons resorted to murder and fraud to get the house.  But then, some things are in the blood.  Even after they'd forgotten all magic, my mother's Muggle relatives still remembered the significance of the Grim."  He scowled.  "My family has lots of legends about spectral hounds.  It's the area, I suppose."  He leaned back.  "I hate dogs," he muttered.  Something about his tone made Lily giggle, but his eyes were deadly serious.

Lily rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of the sun and his bare skin.  She absently played with the coarse black hairs that lightly covered his chest and stomach.  "Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"About the other night…" She felt his muscles tense slightly.  "I'm, um, I'm sorry."

He shrugged, an almost convincing display of nonchalance.  "I shouldn't have asked."

"Because it might have made me uncomfortable, or because you might have been rejected?"

Severus said nothing.

"I'm sorry," she said, "that was nasty."

"But perceptive.  I don't like being rejected."

"I don't know anyone who does."  Lily shifted so that she was lying on his chest, looking down into his eyes.  "I just need some time."

"To decide if you can stomach me?" he asked with a trace of bitterness.  Lily kissed him fiercely, her hair making a curtain around their heads.

"You know that's not true.  Whatever your family tries to do to you, you know I love you."

"I know it.  I'm just … still adapting to the idea.  It's taking a little time."

"Well, I'm still adapting to the idea that sex might have any bearing on my life at all."

"I … suppose I understand that.'

"I keep coming back to my mother, you see.  We used to be very close, and I wonder what she would do, what she would allow me to do."

"And if you had a different mother?  Or none at all?"

Lily imagined a small boat, cast adrift in the ocean.

"I … guess I'd do things differently.  I suppose I'd be a different person."

She shuddered at the idea, and turned her attention to the sun, the water and Severus.

***

That evening, while Severus absently played the piano, Lily returned to Dementors and Darkness: the birth of the Dementor Hive.  She was using Translation Charms to find her way through the dense sixteenth-century English.  Even in modern form, the language was complicated and hard to follow: Matthew Tremayne was particularly fond of arcane magical terms, and Lily's knowledge of alchemy wasn't particularly advanced.  She was puzzling her way through the three-way split between Nicholas Flamel, the Dark Alchemists creating the Dementors and the Wizards' Council when Madam Snape arrived home.

"Well. Isn't this a charming domestic scene."

Lily glanced up to find Madam Snape standing in the doorway, an odd expression on her face.  Severus continued playing the piano.

"You're late," he said.  "Your dinner's in the kitchen."

"Thankyou."  But she didn't leave; instead, she continued to stare at her son.  "I didn't realise you still played."

"I never stopped.  I just didn't want to play for you."

"You've improved."

"I practiced at school."

"I can see you're a good influence in some respects, then, Lily," she said, and left.

"What does she mean?" Lily asked, standing behind him.

Severus stopped playing and turned to face her.  "Playing the piano was just about the only thing I could do to please her, after – after everything.  It was the only thing I could do better than Isaac.  So I'd play for her, and she'd notice me, a little."

"What happened?"

"I got older.  I became tired of being her performing monkey."

Lily rubbed his shoulders and leaned down to kiss him, toying with his hair.  "You play for me."

"You don't treat me like a possession."

He pulled her down to share the bench with him, and books, music and parents were forgotten.

***

Lily as still ploughing through the Dementor book over breakfast the next morning, while Severus skimmed a Potions paper his mother had left out.  He discarded it with a contemptuous snort and picked up the Daily Prophet.

"Lily."

He was staring, frozen, at the front page.  Lily shivered, fear clutching at her heart.

"What's happened?  Who's been killed?"  Voldemort, she knew, was still seeking James' death.  It was part of the reason he'd been given the right to practice magic as an adult.  What if he had become careless…?

Severus handed her the newspaper.

ALLEYWAYS MASSACRE, read the headline, MUGGLE-FRIENDLY BUSINESSES DESTROYED, OWNERS MURDERED.

'The magical world is in shock today, following the destruction of semi-legal business district Iron Nick Alley.  Shops and homes were destroyed, and patrons and owners murdered as He Who Must Not Be Named personally oversaw the attack on the Muggle-friendly Alley.  Only the heroism of the College of Aurors, assisted by Albus Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy, prevented the Death Eaters from advancing into Diagon Alley.

'The Minister of Magic, John Chambers, denied that the Ministry had received warning of the attack, and refused to comment on rumours that he had suggested that Iron Nick Alley was asking for trouble, and its denizens "deserved what they got"…'

There was a photo, as well: Ministry investigators crawling over wreckage which had once been a thriving street.

"My God," Lily said, feeling numb.  "We should – we should get down there."

Severus stared at her.  "Are you mad?  They're telling people to stay away from the Alleyways.  There might be more attacks."

"I need to see it.  To see – to see if it's real."

"Why would they lie to us, Lily?  You're not making sense."

"I know.  But … I just need to see.  I could go alone, if you like."

Severus opened his mouth, and then closed it again.  "I'll get my cloak."

Diagon Alley was deserted, aside from a few Ministry officials and Aurors.  There was an acrid smell in the air: smoke, dust and burnt flesh.

No one tried to stop them, and when they reached the entry to Iron Nick Alley, Lily could see why: a shimmering magical barrier blocked the way.  She clutched Severus' hand and wondered what to do next.

The air was warm, and she was glad that her robes contained cooling charms.  It seemed unnatural that this should take place on a hot summer's day; such cold destruction seemed to demand correspondingly wintry weather.

"…Utterly absurd," said a voice approaching behind them.  "Really, Albus, I don't know what you're thinking…"

Lily turned.  "Professor!"

Dumbledore ignored his oddly familiar companion's objections and moved towards them.  "How lovely to see you and Mr Snape out together," he said with a sad smile, "although the circumstances leave something to be desired."

"Professor," said Severus awkwardly.

Dumbledore gestured to his associate.  "May I introduce John Chambers, the Minister for Magic?  Minister, this is Miss Lily Evans and Mr Severus Snape, two of my students."

"Snape," said Chambers, shaking Severus' hand, "I've heard the name … some ugly business a few years back.  You'd be the – other son, yes?"

Severus mumbled something and glared at Chambers.

"I don't believe I know your family, Miss Evans."

"I'm a Muggle-born.  Minister."

"Ah."  Chambers dropped her hand and dismissed Lily from his attention.  It was as if she weren't there: he turned to Dumbledore and said, "that reminds me, Albus, your solution to the – problem – is completely untenable.  We cannot possibly allow Muggles into Ministry areas."

"Then how are Muggle-born victims to be identified, John?" asked Dumbledore quietly.  He made no attempt to conceal the discussion from his students; Lily had the impression that he wanted them to hear this.

"St Mungo's—"

"Is stretched to the limit of its capacities, and likely to remain so."

"Well, they must have had friends…"

"And would you have their friends inform the families as well?"

Chambers had the grace to look abashed.  "Very limited resources," he muttered, "very dangerous, sending owls to Muggle houses."

"You can't be serious!" Lily blurted out.  "You won't even notify Muggle families?  I thought that was just a rumour…"  She turned to Dumbledore, ignoring Chambers' outrage and Severus' restraining hand on her arm.  "Professor, people have been dying for as long as I've been in the wizarding world.  You can't possibly tell me that there's no system for dealing with the Muggle-born."

Dumbledore's eyes held more sadness than Lily would have believed possible.  "The attack came in the middle of peak trading hours, Lily.  We haven't even begun to estimate the death toll, but I can tell you now, we've never had to deal with anything on this scale before.  Identifying the dead will take weeks—"

"Well," said Chambers, "if you'd supported my proposals about embedding magical signatures—"

"John.  Your system distinguished between the Muggle-born and six degrees of purity of blood.  It stank of Lucius Malfoy's influence."

Severus stiffened.

"Lucius is an upstanding member of our society!  He comes from one of the oldest families!" cried the Minister.

"That, I am afraid, is no guarantee of character," said Dumbledore, looking at Severus.

Chambers snorted.  "Well, I can't stand about chatting with you and your students, Dumbledore.  You will do as you wish, and so will I.  Good day, Mr Snape, Miss Evans."  With a reluctant, avuncular smile, he added, "you might want to learn to control that temper, young lady."

Lily scowled at his retreating back.

"You children had best get home," said Dumbledore.  "I'm afraid there's nothing you can do here, and public places are no longer safe."

"Sir," said Lily, "what about identifying the – the victims?  Severus and I – we had a friend – Danny – he owned the Muggle clothing shop—"

"Ah.  Mr Grant.  I identified him this morning, and sent an owl to his parents."

"Oh.  Thankyou."

"Go home, both of you."  Dumbledore gave them a respectful nod and added, "oh, Severus?"

"Sir?"

"You're looking well."

"Um.  Thankyou, Sir."

Severus began to lead her away, but Lily turned back.  "Professor?" she asked softly, "is the Minister a Death Eater?"

"I don't believe so.  He's just … misguided and easily influenced.  Go home, Lily.  None of this should be the concern of a student."

Back at Severus' house, they made their way up to his large, sparse bedroom.  Lily curled up and buried her head in his shoulder.

"We accomplished nothing," she groaned.  "God.  I feel so useless."

"You yelled at the Minister of Magic."

"Stupid…"

They were silent together for a long time, simply sitting, entwined.  Lily felt sick, torn and empty inside, but it was easier to bear simply because she was not alone.  This was why humans had families, she decided: because facing the world as an individual was simply too terrifying and painful a prospect.

"You called him a friend," Severus said suddenly.

"Danny?"

"We only met him once."

"Not a close friend.  But he made us laugh."

"I didn't laugh."

"He made me laugh, then."

Lily listened to Severus' breathing as he contemplated this.  "It will do," he said finally.

"I'm afraid," said Lily.  "I don't feel safe anymore … we're safe at Hogwarts, but we'll have to leave in a couple of years.  I've been so sheltered."  She shuddered.  "I don't think I'm brave enough to be a Gryffindor, Severus.  I'm so scared…"

He kissed her.  "You told Isaac to leave us, and he did.  You started lecturing the Minister of Magic."

"There's a difference between bravery and recklessness."

"Is there?  You're the first of your house I've heard admit it."  Severus touched her face.  "Personally, I think the Gryffindor ideal is overrated.  But you are … remarkable, with or without that special Gryffindor brand of idiocy."

Lily considered this.  "Thankyou."

***

Several days after the Iron Nick Alley Massacre, Lily quietly packed her belongings and made her way to Severus' laboratory.  He was concentrating on a bubbling cauldron, but acknowledged her entrance with a flicker of the eye.  Lily settled down in a worn armchair with the Daily Prophet.  The Massacre had been replaced on the front page by a Quidditch scandal: Samuel Wilson, a young Quidditch player with a bright future, had been sacked from the Chudley Cannons for possession of three illegal potions.  The potions had been discovered in a routine inspection before a match against the Falmouth Falcons.  Lucius Malfoy, owner of the Falcons, offered sanctimonious platitudes and refused to comment on rumours that the League Inspectors had been bribed.  Lily gave Severus a pointed look, but he refused to be drawn into a discussion.  In fact, he barely even noticed her presence until he realised what she was wearing.

"You're leaving, then?"

Lily looked down at her jeans.  "Yeah.  Your mum's – friend – is coming tonight, and … it might be awkward."

Severus smiled thinly.  "I understand.  I'd escape myself if I could."  He contemplated his potion.  "Still, there are compensations."

"What are you doing?" Lily asked warily.

"If it works, it will make him much, much drunker than his usual two glasses of wine would allow.  If it doesn't … well, it probably won't be fatal."

Lily took a step back from the cauldron.  "Why wouldn’t it work?  There's nothing new about Intoxication Potions…"

"There is about this one."

"Oh.  Dear."

"Mother is always telling me to be more innovative," Severus murmured.

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

"I only hope she'll be rendered speechless with pride…" Severus cast a stasis charm over the cauldron, and led Lily over to the windows.  "I can't persuade you to stay longer?"

"No … no, I need to get home.  Make sure that Petunia hasn't arranged to sell me to white slavers.  You know."  Lily bit her tongue; she had almost said, you know how it is with siblings.

"You're welcome back here anytime."

"I – thankyou."

"Will I see you again before school starts?"

"I hope so.  We can meet up in Diagon Alley, can't we?  Once it's – all open again.  And my parents would love to see you."

"It would be interesting to see them again."  Severus paused for a moment, hesitant, then handed Lily a bracelet.  It was finer than any metal she had ever seen.  On closer examination, she realised that it was woven of unicorn hair.

"It's something of an heirloom in my father's family," he explained.  "And since I have no sisters, and don't intend to have children … I thought you should have it."

"Thankyou…"

He handed her a slip of parchment, covered in his handwriting.  "These are the charms which complete the Portkey enchantment.  Perform them when you get home – I've done the rest."

"But won't the Ministry--?"

"They don't monitor Portkey Charms."

"I thought that was just the Activation Charm."

"It shouldn't be … or at least, it wasn't the last time I made one."

"How long ago was that?"

"Only a year."  He chuckled quietly.  "Relax, Lily.  Even if you got caught, the Ministry's bark is a lot worse than it's bite."

"Not if you're Muggle-born," Lily muttered.  Severus became serious.

"Well, no."  He shook his head.  "Are you using the Floo network to get to London?  I'll go with you to Diagon Alley."

***

Lily caught the train home from London and returned to an empty house.  The first thing she did was sit down on her bed and examine the unicorn-hair bracelet.  She had no idea how old it was, but it couldn't have been made in the last thirty years: there were currently restrictions on the use of such things, aside from authorised wandmaking.  She drew her wand and began studying the Porktey Charm.

The charms sealed themselves with a loud click, which echoed through the house.  Lily froze for a moment, but no owls arrived bearing angry letters, and she slowly relaxed.

After a week of Severus' company, she felt rather lost on her own.  The family home seemed lifeless and dull, repressively unmagical.  And it was warm, after the unnatural coolness of Severus' ghost-ridden home. Lily reluctantly abandoned Severus' jumper, picked up a sketchbook and went outside to see if she could catch a glimpse of the fairy nest in the garden.

***

Her mother arrived home late in the afternoon, coming out into the backyard and standing behind Lily.

"What's there?" she asked, "what do you see?"

"Six fairies," said Lily, "there.  Near the tree."

"I can't see them.  Just specks of dust."

"Two of them are in the mating flight.  One of the others is chasing them – I think it's a rejected male.  The other three are playing games.  I think they're only just out of the larval stage."

Mrs Evans stared at the shimmering creatures, but it was clear that she couldn't see them properly.  Instead, she examined Lily's sketches, and with a quick, sad shake of the head, said, "Care to help me with dinner?"

Reluctantly, Lily accompanied her mother inside.

"How was Severus?"

"Good."

"Did you meet his mother?"

"Yes. But never for very long."  Lily started slicing the carrots.

"I suppose she's very busy, having to work and all."

"She is.  She's one of the most important Potions brewers in the country."

"A Potions brewer … is that something you think you'd like to do?"

"Not really.  It's quite interesting, and I'm good at Potions, but I don't think I'd be very happy."

"I just wondered … what does a witch or wizard do after school?"

"Oh, lots of things.  I mean, there are teachers, and researchers, and bureaucrats."

"And what do you want to do?"

"I’m not sure," Lily admitted, "except … I've been thinking about becoming a medi-witch.  A doctor."

"How do you become a doctor, without universities?"

"I think there's an apprenticeship.  About six years, I heard."

"Ah."

Lily watched her mother move around the kitchen, staring blindly at vegetables and biting a fingernail.

"Mum?" she asked carefully, "are you okay?"

"What?  I'm fine, love."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"  Mrs Evans smiled, slightly awkwardly.  Her eyes were fixed on a point just over Lily's left shoulder; she didn't see her daughter's glare.  They returned to work in silence, as Lily struggled to keep a check on her temper.  How dare her mother complain that they were no longer close, when she herself was lying?

All of Lily's instincts were screaming: this was more than a polite social fib, and Lily was tired of walking away from deceptions, smiling politely while people either lied to her face, or hurt her with the truth.

Crowley, the Minister, Malfoy … Crowley's husband had been snide and nasty, and she just knew he was using the Longaevitas Potion, using the bodies of magical creatures, and the labour of young witches and wizards to keep himself alive.  Aurelia Snape and her cruel prophecies.  James and his deceptions, pretending to be her friend, while revealing secrets to her mother.  Oh, James was still hiding something; all at once, she was certain of it.  Petunia, with her bitchy cruelty, and Vernon, with his more overt bullying.  Severus, playing nasty games with Wilson's life and career, all because of some petty schoolyard grudge…

And her mother, and the secrets that lay between them.  Her mother, who tried so damn hard to understand what it meant to be a witch, but she simply didn't get it.

Lily scowled at the stovetop until tiny cracks appeared in the tiles on the wall.  She forced herself to relax; she hadn't done spontaneous magic like that since she'd received her wand.  She poured herself a glass of water and took a deep breath.

"You might as well tell me," she said.  "Whatever it is, I'll have to find out sooner or later."

"All right."  Mrs Evans slammed the frying pan down and said, "where shall I begin?"

"The beginning."

"The beginning is your grandmother.  Who was married to a man she didn't love, and who didn't love her."  Lily's hand went to her locket.  "Especially when she became pregnant, and he suspected that the child wasn't his."

The glass shattered into a million pieces on the floor.  It was only hours later that Lily realised that she'd opened her fingers; at the time, it seemed to happen spontaneously.

"I'll clean that up," she mumbled, but her mother caught her arm.  Glass crunched under Mrs Evans' shoes as she moved.

"Don't.  It can wait."

"Did you know?"

"About my father?  No.  Mum didn't tell me until she was dying.  And even then, she refused to name him.  She said it didn't seem necessary, and … I couldn't change her mind.  She said – she said that I'd caused her nothing but trouble, and I could go on wondering, for all she cared."

"Grandma Madison never liked me," Lily said.

"No.  She didn't."

Lily concentrated on the fragments of glass on the linoleum, as if by avoiding all contact, she could prevent what was coming next.  Her mother kept speaking, as if, having begun, there was no way to stop.

"You reminded her, you see.  I never told her, but she suspected.  That you're like me.  That you aren't Joseph's daughter."  Mrs Evans laughed bitterly.  "Cuckoos, she called us.  Said it was a family curse."

Lily looked up at her mother, whose face was pale.  Her grey eyes were suspiciously bright, but she was not actually crying.

"Who was he, then?  My real father."

"I'm sorry…"  Absently, Lily identified the tone in her mother's voice: self-loathing.  "I should remember.  I know that, but I can't.  And I've tried … God, Lily, you have no idea how I've tried.  We were friends, you see.  Joseph was away so much with work, and I was alone with Petunia.  And I thought … we were friends."  Lily's mother squeezed her arm.  "Say something."

"You lied to me."

"I know … I'm so sorry.  I didn't know what to do, or what to say.  And you're such a happy girl, and I didn't want to upset that…"

"Petunia hates me."

"She doesn't—"

"She does!" Lily shrieked.  "You know she does, she's hated me for years – and Daddy – and Daddy – does he even know?"

"Of course he knows!" Mrs Evans snapped.  "Do you think I've kept this from everyone?  I told him after you got your Hogwarts letter."  She looked at her daughter.  "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know," said Lily, feeling sick.  "I don't – I don't want to talk to you right now.  I can't be here…"

She cut her foot on a piece of glass as she left the kitchen.  The pain seemed to take over her whole body, leaving room for nothing else.  It was a sort of release.

"Lily, where do you think you're going?  You can't just—"

Lily picked up her bags, still unpacked from that afternoon, and found her wand.

"Liliane!  I forbid you to go!"

"I'll be back … I'll come back in a couple of days…"  Lily tapped her bracelet and spoke the Portkey charm.

***

Severus' room was dark and empty. The only light came from the flames of a small fire, which barely even illuminated the cavernous fireplace, let alone the enormous room.  Lily could hear voices downstairs: Severus, his mother and a man she didn't know, Madam Snape's superior and possible fiancé.  At one point, she heard Severus' footsteps on the stairs, but his mother snapped at him and ordered him to stay downstairs.

It was all right.  Lily could wait.  Sitting on Severus' bed, she focussed on a spot of light shining across the moor, and entertained the fancy that it was Sirius' house.  She wondered if the boys were home.  She could Floo over, and the boys would fuss over her, and be inappropriately humorous, and the house would be warm and noisy and comforting…

She wrapped herself in Severus' blankets, leaned back against his pillows and waited.

"You're back."

Lily didn't look up.  "I told you before, Isaac.  Stay away from me."

"But—"

"Go," Lily snarled.  Isaac fled.  She leaned back, staring into the fire.  The pain in her foot settled into a dull throb, an insistent reminder of the injury.

It was almost midnight when Severus returned to his room.  He froze as he saw her.

Lily said, "My mother had an affair, and I don't know who my real father is.  It's a family curse.  My grandmother did the same thing.  And I think I'm going mad.  Can I stay here?"

"In my bed?"

"I could move."

"Don't."

Severus sat down, moving her feet and blankets into his lap.  "Was it awful?"

"Rather.  Except that nothing really happened.  We were just … talking.  And I was dying."

"Your foot is bleeding."

"I broke a glass."

Severus drew his wand and extracted the last slivers of glass.  This reawakened the pain, and he paused at Lily's indrawn breath.

"Keep going," she said.  "It has to be done."  She watched him heal the cut, a surprisingly small thing for all the blood it had shed.  His hands were firm and steady as he cleaned her foot, and although she had never imagined him as a healer, she could suddenly see him as a surgeon, dispassionately cutting through disease or injury.  He smelled faintly of lemon, and herbs, with an echo of wine.

"Better?"

"Better."

She wondered if heartbreak was nothing more than an acute awareness of every insignificant action, and the fact that everything had changed.

I'm dying.

I'm not the person I was before.

I'm changing.

Severus moved to sit by her side.  Lily burrowed back into her cocoon of blankets and wondered what she would become.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

She shifted so she was lying against him.  "I have no idea where I come from anymore."

"I know."

"There is one thing I'm certain of, though."

Severus found her hand and squeezed it.  "Tell me."

"My father … or my grandfather … or both … I'm not Muggle-born, Severus, I'm a half-blood."

"How do you—" He broke off as understanding dawned, but Lily suddenly found that she needed to say this, when she hadn't been able to think about it for years.

"The Sorting Hat tried to put me in Slytherin."

"Oh."

Severus ran a hand through her hair, brushing against her neck.  Lily shivered.

"I don't think that's a bad thing."

"Of course not.  But … I hardly know what I am anymore."

"You're Lily.  You're a Gryffindor – and the Hat doesn't put people in houses where they don't belong."  Very softly, he said, "you're mine."

"I am?"

"Always."

Lily leaned over and kissed him, creating a tangle of arms and blankets.  She allowed herself to get lost in the oblivion of sensation, as welcome a distraction as the cut on her foot.  Tentatively, she explored until she was rewarded with a breathless, "Lily!"

She looked down into his face and said, "Please?"

"Lily…"

"I understand why you came to me the other night.  Please?"

He pulled her down to meet his lips.

***

Afterwards, Lily lay awake, sore, unsettled and unhappy.  Oblivion had been replaced by an odd feeling of being broken into pieces; her mind felt completely detached from her body and her identity was torn to shreds. From daughter-sister to individual; from virgin to lover; Mudblood to half-blood.  She wanted to cry and laugh all at once.  Her jeans were somewhere under her foot, and she had a cramp in her calf.

Beside her, Severus was sleeping.  She'd seen him at rest before, but never so fully relaxed.  His face was open, and it was like seeing the person he might have been, in a different world.  Lily snuggled against him, and was rewarded with a small sigh and the tightening of his arm around her waist.

Mine.

Well, that was an identity, although hardly something that she could present to the world.  But it went both ways; he was hers, and she would protect him to the death if it would save him from the encroaching darkness.

They had each other, even if they had nothing else.

At last, tears came, and Lily wept silently and painfully into her lover's pillows.
 

to be continued

Next month: consequences and discovery.  Snape and Lily find an unexpected, unwilling ally.  And the boys make a very welcome return.

Notes and credits:

Thanks as always to Team: Beta, Jerie and Sarah.

Title is from "Cries Too Hard" by the Whitlams, from the Torch the Moon album: Torch the moon / Burn the schools / She wrote in red on her bedroom door / Nothing's pure / The paint runs to the floor.

Isaac's fate should have been obvious to anyone who recognised the Biblical significance of the name, but no one emailed me to say, "Ha ha, I guessed it!"  So either no one noticed, or no one cared.  But congratulations to PeacockHarpy and LilySnape, both of whom guessed where I was going with Lily's family.

Fifty points to the house of the person who can identify Snape's mother's Muggle relatives.
 

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