To Unstopper Time

Author's Notes: Written for lesyeuxverts00 as part of the hp_holidaygen fest 2007. Thank-you to Hijja for helping me find and feed the plotbunny.

To Unstopper Time
- by Chthonia -

1976

"Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?"

Five years and four months ago she had asked him that, under this very tree, just before they'd left for Hogwarts. Should he have lied? "No," he had said. But of course it mattered – just as it mattered that his Dad wasn't a wizard, just as it mattered that he lived in a working-class area of a run-down northern town and not some ancient wizarding village or fancy manor house.

But it didn't 'make a difference'. Not to him.

Severus kicked at a pile of rotting leaves.

"You call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"

He couldn't answer that. But she was different. And now she wasn't speaking to him – hadn't been speaking to him since the summer – and he couldn't stand it. It had taken every ounce of self-control for him not to hex Avery on the spot when he'd made that taunt about 'losing his Mudblood girlfriend'...

He'd wandered to the edge of the woods, he realised. Her edge. From where the cracked grey pavement led to her side of town.

But she'd already said she wanted nothing to do with him. "I can't pretend any more..."

Had she only pretended to like him, all that time? Had she really been laughing about him behind his back, with- with Potter, and Black?

He could almost hear Avery and Mulciber jeering in his head. Stupid Mudblood. She'll be first against the wall when the Dark Lord takes over...

Or Black. Waiting for Evans, Snivellus? I don't think she has a need for greasy little oddballs today.

They were right. Why would Lily Evans look twice at someone like him?

Because she was Lily. Because they'd been best friends before Potter ever set eyes on her. Ignore them, Sev. If they think I'm going to drop you just because that conceited toerag doesn't like you, they can think again.

But that was a year ago. And then she had turned her back on him. They'd fallen out before, but never for more than a week. This was different.

If only he hadn't lost it that day! If only she hadn't been there. He'd give anything to take back what he'd said. But it was too late.

Yeah, Snivellus. Go away and crawl back into your dark little hole.

Severus balled his fists. Oh, they'd love to see him walk away defeated, would Potter and Black. And the whole thing was their fault, too! He should be thinking 'if only they hadn't attacked me' or 'if only they weren't such arrogant gits' or 'if only they didn't exist'!

So, he had a choice. He could spend the rest of the year and the next and God knew how long afterwards watching her from afar and fuelling his bitterness at how unfair everything was. Or he could try to explain – and this time, he would do it properly.

He drew his long coat around him, and set off along the path towards her house.

1990

"Oh. It's you." Petunia glared at him as she opened the door. "Can't you at least dress normally if you have to come here in broad daylight?"

Severus glanced down at his sober travelling cloak and permitted himself a thin smile. Needling Lily's obnoxious sister was one of life's few pleasures, and one that was easily come by, given that she was needled by his very existence.

"And good morning to you," he said. "Can I assume you won't want me waiting outside?"

Petunia glanced at the twitching curtain across the street. "Oh, come on in, then." She turned and called up the stairs. "Harry! Get down here now!"

The boy scuttled silently down the stairs, but his wary glance at his aunt brightened into a smile as he saw the visitor.

"Uncle Severus!"

"Hello Harry. Ready to go?"

"Almost."

Severus watched as Harry pulled on his shoes and grabbed his coat and scarf from the row of pegs on the wall. He was getting older; this time next year he'd have finished his first term in Hogwarts. And he was looking more and more like his father had at that age. As Harry ran ahead to the alley from where they would Disapparate to London, it was almost as if Potter had slipped through time to taunt him...

Except that Harry hadn't grown up thinking the world belonged to him. And as they wove their way through the shoppers foraging in Diagon Alley, he could see in Harry the same hunger he remembered from twenty years before: the hunger to be fully a part of the world where he truly belonged.

Perhaps that world would be kinder to Lily's son than it had been to her.

Harry kept his hat pulled down over his scar, but that didn't stop the usual nudges and whispers eddying round them as they passed. As usual, Severus silenced the culprits with a glare. This was supposed to be a treat for the boy; he didn't need to be constantly reminded of his mother's death.

Severus had reserved a quiet booth at the back of Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, where Harry could sit unobserved yet still feast his eyes on the witches and wizards bustling in and out of the shop. Severus had done the same at that age, sitting opposite his mother and eking out one scoop of ice-cream so he could watch the bright-cloaked teenagers laughing from behind their sundaes and bulging shopping bags.

"Uncle Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"What house are they in?"

A blob of chocolate ice-cream slipped from Harry's spoon to the table as he gestured towards the front of the shop. Severus turned to look, failing to suppress a grimace at the group of noisy red-heads.

"Gryffindor."

"All of them?"

"All of them so far." He fixed Harry with his most serious stare as the youngest Weasley let out a peal of laughter. "Don't go emulating them. Even between them, they've barely half the brains your mother had."

Harry frowned. "But won't I be in Gryffindor, if both my Mum and Dad were?"

"Not necessarily."

"Does it matter, which house I'm in?"

Severus sighed. He wouldn't lie to Lily's son. "It matters to some people, Harry. But it didn't matter to your mother, and it shouldn't matter to you."

He saw Harry glance at the Weasleys again.

"But what if you don't like the people in your house?"

"Then you make the best of it."

Harry looked down and steadily spooned his ice-cream.

Wrong thing to say, Severus. He was only a child, after all – a child to whom life had not been fair so far and who was pinning all his hopes on Hogwarts.

Just like he himself had.

And where had that got him? There was little point in letting the boy build up unrealistic expectations.

But no point in making him scared of the place before he even set foot in it, either.

"Harry."

The boy looked up warily.

"Do you remember me telling you about the Sorting Hat? It tries to put you in the place you'll fit best, so don't worry about making friends in your house. And you can still be friends with students in other houses... it's just more difficult sometimes."

Harry nodded. "Like you and mother?"

Severus tensed. "Perhaps. Now finish your ice-cream. Your aunt will be expecting us."

1976

"What are you doing here?" Lily's sister swept her gaze haughtily down to his boots.

Stupid Muggle, thought Severus. But he forced himself towards politeness.

"Is Lily in?"

She hesitated, then called up the stairs. "Lily! Your freak friend is here!"

There was a brief pause, then: "Tell him to go away!"

"No!" Severus leaned into the house. "Lily! I just want to-"

Above them, a door slammed.

Petunia shrugged. He stared at her, in that moment not caring how much his desperation showed.

She glanced across the road. To his surprise, she smiled.

"Do come in," she said, saccharine-sweet. "I'll get her for you."

Lily's mum was sitting in the lounge, next to a gaudily static Christmas tree.

"Severus!" She smiled at him. "We haven't seen you for a long time."

"Um. Hello." He shuffled his feet. She gestured him into an armchair as Petunia's voice sounded from the hall.

"Why do you have to invite them here anyhow? It makes everyone think we're odd! I do have to live here, you know."

"I didn't-"

"Girls, that's enough!" Mrs Evans strode towards the door. "Petunia, didn't you have some homework you needed to finish? And Lily, Severus is in here. Can I get you both some tea?" She glanced back at Severus.

"Er, yes... thanks..." He wished he could sink through the floor.

Lily sat down stiffly on the sofa opposite. "Well?"

"I-"

"I told you, Sev. I have nothing to say to you."

He swallowed. "I know. But I have something to say to you."

She folded her arms. "What? You're sorry? Sorry you hate me? Sorry your little Death Eater friends would happily do away with me and my family?"

"I don't hate you!"

"No? You could have fooled me, the way you go mouthing off."

"You don't understand! You know what it's like in Slytherin – you have to say those things, or they think you're a blood-traitor!"

"But you think like that too. Or else why would you care what they think?"

The door opened; Mrs Evans was holding a tray with a china tea-pot, china cups and two china plate bearing slices of home-made Christmas cake. She accepted the two forced smiles and polite thanks she got in return, and withdrew.

Neither Lily nor Severus moved towards the tray.

Severus took a deep breath. "I care," he said, emphasising every word, "because I want to get out of Hogwarts in one piece."

She looked at him in disgust. "That's just... weak, Severus. I never thought you were such a coward."

He drew himself up. "Yeah? If I were a coward I'd have stopped talking to you after Bellatrix Black hexed me for it in first year."

She blinked. "You never told me that."

"Well. Perhaps I should have. Then maybe you'd believe me now."

"But you still believe that stuff, don't you? About wizard superiority and all that?"

He shrugged. "Come on, Lily. You know what my Dad's like. And your sister hates me – and you – just because we can do magic. You can't blame me for-"

"What about my Mum, then?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, "your Mum's nice."

"And my Dad?"

"Your Dad's okay."

"The trouble with you, Sev, is that you just see what you want to see. Like you've hated Potter and Black since first year-"

"Leave them out of it."

Their eyes locked. Lily was the first to look away.

"All right."

"Look, Lily," he said. "About last summer. I've been wanting to say-"

"You're sorry you insulted me in front of the entire school?"

He looked at the carpet. "No. I mean yes, I am sorry, of course I am. But that's not what..."

Why was it so hard to say? But he had to. If he didn't he'd blame himself for the rest of his life.

He raised his head. "I should have said thank-you." He could feel the heat rise up his face. He hated thinking about that day, how bloody helpless he'd been, how Potter had humiliated him in front of everyone. In front of her.

He focussed on her green eyes. "Thank-you for sticking up for me."

She looked at him, her head tilted to one side. "You could have said so at the time."

"No I couldn't!"

She pursed her lips. "Well, if you're going to be like that..."

"No. I'm sorry..." He twisted a lock of hair round his hand. "I just... I hated you seeing that. I wished you weren't there. But I didn't mean..."

He had wanted her to think he was strong, that he could look after himself, look after her. And now she would think he was weaker than ever.

"I shouldn't have needed your help," he said.

They looked at each other in silence.

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Sev," she replied.

She reached out and poured the tea.

1992

He poured the black liquid into the green and watched the mixture glow red.

"Unc- Professor Snape?"

Severus turned. Harry was standing in the doorway. He looked pale.

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry swallowed. The boy still found it difficult to traverse the gulf between professor and honorary uncle. As for himself – well, it was clear enough in the classroom. Out of it, however...

Well, no one was around today. Those brave or desperate few staying at Hogwarts for Christmas despite the mysterious monster in the Chamber were likely outside pelting each other with snowballs.

Severus turned back to his bench. "How's your knifework doing, Harry? Would you like to give me a hand cutting up these valerian roots?"

Harry climbed onto a stool beside him. They worked in silence.

It was strangely... pleasant, working together like this, unhurried by the need to return to Privet Avenue or the fear of interruption by other students.

"Professor?" Harry's head was still bent over his cutting board.

"Mmm?"

"You know how you told me about the Sorting Hat?"

"Mmm."

"Does it... Is it always right?"

"Allegedly."

"What if it's wrong? What if I shouldn't really be in Gryffindor?"

Severus turned to the boy. Harry was looking up at him, eyes rounded in anxiety.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because... well... Hermione said that Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes, and now all the Hufflepuffs are saying that I'm the heir..."

"And since when did you listen to what the Hufflepuffs say?"

Harry looked down.

Severus tried again. "All right. Do you like the idea of being Slytherin's heir?"

Harry stared. "No!"

Yes, thought Severus: Gryffindor through and though. "Well then, you've nothing to worry about."

Harry didn't look convinced. Severus sighed. Albus would have put it so much better.

"Look, Harry," he said. "Your father came from a long line of Gryffindors. Your mother was Muggleborn. It is highly unlikely that you're related to Salazar Slytherin. And even if you were – you still have a choice. Slytherins aren't all bad, you know."

The boy still looked dubious. Severus sighed. "Well, if you think that badly of us, what are you asking me for?"

He was rewarded with a nervous smile and a cautious nod. Severus passed him another pile of roots.

Harry wasn't such bad company, when he kept his mouth shut. He hadn't shared such companionable silence since... but he couldn't think about that. Harry was not his mother.

For one thing, he hadn't expressed the slightest curiosity about what the roots were for. Which, all things considered, was just as well.

1977

"You're not correcting the textbook again, are you?" Lily smiled as she peered over his shoulder.

Severus bristled. "Why shouldn't I, if it's wrong?"

Lily's smile froze. "Why do you always have to be so serious?"

He turned back to his potion with a shrug. Surviving Slytherin in 1977 was a serious business, and it didn't look as if 1978 would be much easier. Sometimes he wished she understood. Mostly he was glad, for her sake, that she didn't.

"Are you doing anything on Monday?" he asked. "We could go for a walk along the river..."

She looked down. "Oh... Sev, I can't. I'm sorry. I'm not going home for Christmas."

But... that meant a whole three weeks without seeing her! The bright promise of the coming holiday dulled.

He picked up a phial, tried to sound casual. "Why not?"

"I'm staying with James for the holidays."

The phial shattered on the stone floor.

"You're staying with Potter?"

She clutched her book to her chest. "I knew you'd react like this, Severus. That's why I couldn't tell you before..."

It was as if she'd punched him in the gut and sent him hurtling down a dark bottomless well.

"You're... you're going out with him, aren't you?" It was hard to get the words out. He was numb enough already.

Her eyes were wide and bright. "Yes," she said quietly.

He stared up at the ceiling, feeling sick. He was twisting tighter and tighter inside and if he didn't keep control he was going to say something he'd regret forever. But... Potter! How dare he? Every vicious little trick they'd played on him paled to insignificance now. Lily was his! She'd hate him thinking that, he knew, but he'd loved her for years, had helped her settle in to the wizarding world, helped her with potions, been there during the holidays when Petunia got too much... Potter had no right!

"Severus?" She touched his arm. "We- we can still be friends, can't we?"

But they could be so much more!

He wanted to shout at her, ask how on earth they could be friends when she'd chosen his chief tormentor over him? If only he'd told her the truth about Potter and Black this last year, instead of pretending they were leaving him alone! But he hadn't wanted her to think him weak, especially since that awful day by the lake.

He breathed deep, and gave her a small smile, ignoring the no no no screaming inside.

"Always, Lily." He could wait. He would wait forever if he had to.

But he couldn't understand it: ever since they'd come to Hogwarts she'd gone on about how annoying Potter was. She'd see through him soon enough. She had to!

The unfairness of it all came crashing over him; his smile crumbled as he stared at her in desperation. "But why, Lily? What do you see in him?"

She shrugged helplessly, but kept her ground.

"He makes me laugh."

1994

Evidently, the Weasley laugh had evolved specifically to grate on Severus's nerves. If it wasn't the one, whirling Miss Johnson round the dance floor in a manner calculated to cause the most obstruction to as many others as possible, it was the other, taunting his younger brother and Harry about their lack of anyone to twirl at all.

Severus had noticed Harry watching Miss Chang. The boy appeared to lack his father's inexplicable ability to charm the female students – or perhaps he just didn't care enough. Though Severus had noticed Harry's gaze follow her on more than one occasion, he had never seen the two of them together. To Severus, it seemed a curiously shallow attraction.

Not that he knew enough to judge. He had half expected the boy to turn up at his rooms one evening, pull up a stool and share a half-hour chopping potions ingredients before relaxing enough to confide in him. But that happened less and less these days. The boy was growing up, and Severus found himself missing his company.

The youngest Weasley's long red hair was streaming out as Longbottom spun her. Incredible as it seemed, given the general ineptitude of her partner, she actually seemed to be enjoying herself.

If only there had been a Yule Ball during his time at Hogwarts! Then it might have been Lily's hair flying out as he proved to her once and for all that there was more to him than a quick brain and a shared background. Even if she'd only danced with him as a friend, he could have held her in his arms, to guide her and protect her...

Harry was right. He, Severus Snape, was the last person to dispense advice on love.

Scowling, he turned away from the bright-robed dancers and stalked towards the rose garden.

1979

His breath clouded in the frost-laden air as he scurried away from the Hog's Head, fixing the Seer's words in his mind.

After weeks of following Dumbledore on the Dark Lord's orders, he hadn't expected much to come of that visit to the seedy pub. He had even started to wonder whether the Inner Circle had given him the task to keep him out of the way. Oh, they were happy to receive the fruits of those weeks of research in Malfoy's library, but that didn't mean they were happy to have him there.

But now they would have to accept him. Yes, it would have been even better if the oafish innkeeper hadn't chosen that moment to come upstairs, but the Dark Lord would still want to hear the message he was bringing. Half-blood or not, his loyalty could not be questioned now, and the Dark Lord promised to reward his loyal servants...

Not that he was in it for glory; he was not one of those who flaunted the Mark on his arm at every opportunity. It proved he belonged to something, that was all. It gave him a place in a world in which Muggles crossed the road to avoid him, the Ministry valued blood over ability, his teachers had judged by house before heart, and his rival had stolen away his one real friend.

He had received an invitation to the wedding. For months afterwards he had thrown her letters in the fire before he could be hurt by the words inside.

She would hate him for the path he was taking. But at least this way he could protect her.

1995

"Don't you want to protect yourself? You need to concentrate!"

"I'm tired!" But the boy picked himself off the floor and stood ready.

Severus sighed. "We're all tired, Harry. But that excuse won't stop the Dark Lord, and we can't let it stop us."

"I know, but..." Harry rubbed his forehead.

Severus's eyes narrowed. "It's hurting again?"

"A bit." He was clearly unwilling to elaborate. "All right – I'm ready. Let's try again."

"Very well," said Severus, preparing himself to focus. "Legilimens!"

Images flashed across his mind – Miss Chang biting into an apple, Arthur Weasley in a hospital bed, Draco sneering from a broomstick – as he searched for the tension that would indicate the places Harry preferred to keep secret. He felt it like scar-tissue distortion of the mind, and pushed on through to find himself standing in a graveyard looking at the Dark Lord's burning eyes; he hurried past to see the Weasley daughter lying lifeless on a stone floor but it felt like moving through fog now, from which loomed the slavering jaws of Hagrid's three-headed dog... Harry's cousin pushing him against a wall... and nothing.

Severus blinked. Harry was standing with his fists clenched, a look of utter determination on his face.

"Better," Severus told him. "But not good enough. It's no good stopping me after I've seen what you're trying to hide."

"But how can I stop you before I feel you pushing?"

Severus pursed his lips. "It's difficult to explain it when you aren't experienced enough to understand the explanation," he said. "This is something you have to learn by doing. By needing to do it."

If only it were possible to master Occlumency from a theory in a book! Perhaps then he would have perfected his defences in time...

He shook the thought from his mind. He was more tired than he'd thought.

"Why don't we try it the other way round?" he suggested. "That might help you understand what you're trying to fight."

Harry frowned nervously. "You want me to read your mind?"

"No. I want you to try to read my mind."

"How?"

"Say the spell, then try looking at me without focussing your eyes. You're trying to look with your mind, to see past what is physically in front of you..."

Harry's forehead was scrunched in confusion. Severus shrugged. He should know by now that the boy was no theorist.

"Just try it," he said.

He was skilled enough, he knew, to make his mind a rock to Harry. But it was impossible not to feel a twinge of apprehension: too many times he had faced this spell when the price of failure was death.

Harry raised his wand. "Legilimens."

He could feel the other mind probing uncertainly, looking for something it didn't know how to see. He would have to show it what to look for... He kept his gaze fixed clearly on Harry, and relaxed his defence.

Harry's untidy hair and green eyes were still there in front of him; he anchored himself to that awareness and let the memories come... the Potions classroom filled with students, his younger self making notes in the back row, Potter and Black whispering and a surge of anger that he suppressed but Harry felt it too and followed it and they were tripping him with a jinx so he was falling in front of Lily and she put out her hand to help him up and they were walking by the river and he was watching her on the swing and Harry was looking for memories of his mother, Severus realised. And with that realisation Harry's eyes became hers...

"I'm pregnant."

"I heard. Congratulations."

"Sev... Can I ask you a favour?"

"You can ask me anything, Lily. You know that."

"Well, I know this is a lot to ask, and if it's too much you have to say no, but... would you be his godfather?"

"Me?"

"It's okay if you don't want to, it's only..."

"No, it's not that. But won't Pot- James want someone else?"

"Well, he's asked Sirius, but Sirius can be a bit reckless sometimes. I'd feel a lot happier if someone reliable was there too – so I was thinking, perhaps both of you could do it?"

"I can't see either Potter or Black being happy about that arrangement. But if you get them to agree, then I'd be honoured."

"Oh, thank you! I knew I could rely on you!"

"When are you due?"

"July, they think. So I've still plenty of time to get used to the idea!"

"Yes."

"Severus...? What's wrong? Are you sure you don't mind?"

"No. No, it's nothing. Sorry..."

Severus pulled his mind free of the other's. He turned away, leaning over his workbench.

When he turned back, Harry was still staring at him.

"You loved her," he said.

Severus made no reply.

But I betrayed her...

1980

"You love her." The Dark Lord's cackle coiled around him. "Love is a weakness we cannot afford, Snape."

Severus frantically tried to seal his mind, but the damage was done. If only he hadn't thought about Lily so much, perhaps he would have managed not to so do this time.

"You disappoint me, Snape. You kept this from me, when I could have used it to sway the girl to our cause."

But Lily would never have come over – surely the Dark Lord had seen enough to know that!

Unless...

Would she, if she thought he was in danger? Far back, in the most private recesses of his mind, he was glad she had not been put to that test.

"My Lord, I-"

"Silence!"

The Dark Lord paced across the room, his long robes whispering against the floor.

"Who else knows of your – feelings – for this woman?"

"No one, my Lord."

"Hmmm." The Dark Lord pulled out his wand, bleached bone-white by Merlin knew what darkness. It balanced across his palm, quivering. He raised his head, gazing at Severus almost thoughtfully.

"You have not been honest with me, Severus Snape," he hissed softly. "For that you should die." One languid wandflick and Severus sank to the floor, unable to move.

The Dark Lord crouched beside him and rested a hand on the back of his neck.

"Still," he murmured. "In other matters you have served me well, and we have need of your skills. So I am minded to let you earn your second chance. You will tell no one of this."

Severus's relief was edged with apprehension. "What would you have me do?"

"Why, you will come with me when I go to kill her son and the Longbottoms', of course. Perhaps you can keep her occupied while I do what is necessary?"

Severus closed his eyes. He was dead, then; he would kill himself before harming Lily. If only his personal researches in Malfoy's spellbooks had been successful! But there was still time. There was always time.

"As you wish, my Lord."

"Good." The Dark Lord released him and signalled for him to rise. "And then, I think I will send you to Dumbledore: he will believe a tale of 'love'. A remorseful Mudblood-lover will make a most effective spy..."

1997

Sometimes, thought Severus as Amycus Carrow left his office, he played his part too well. Living surrounded by hundreds of people who knew only his mask, it could be difficult to remove it, even when alone. In some ways that made it safer – in other ways not.

And anyhow, the times he'd felt most real were not the times he'd spent alone.

He rubbed his head and conjured a pot of strong tea.

The current situation had at least one advantage. Hogwarts held secrets open only to its Headmaster, including books available nowhere else. At last, he was drawing near the end of his quest to brew a potion that many believed existed only in legend – though now that it was within his reach, he was no longer sure he could bring himself to use it.

The office door opened. Severus jumped up, wand at the ready.

A hooded figure was pointing a wand straight at him.

"How did you get in here?" snarled Severus. "Show yourself!"

The other pushed back his hood. Severus stared.

"Harry? What are you doing here?"

Harry kept his wand steady. "I've come for Godric Gryffindor's sword."

Severus eyed Harry's wand. "Don't you trust me, Harry?"

"Should I?" The boy's voice was flat. "Didn't Professor Dumbledore trust you?"

Severus's eyes narrowed. Dumbledore had brought his death upon himself the moment he had touched that ring, and Harry knew it as well as he did.

"What's your favourite ice cream, Harry?"

It was Harry's turn to stare. Then he laughed. Too grim a laugh for one so young.

"Come on, Uncle Severus," said Harry. "Aren't you past the age for Ministry guessing games?"

Severus tightened his grip on his wand. "Answer the question."

Harry sighed. "Oh, all right. It's chocolate. Now can we-"

"Where did I take you on your ninth birthday?"

"You didn't. Professor Dumbledore owled to say that you'd been injured in an accident with a potion. Aunt Petunia was complaining about the feathers for days."

"Some good came of it, then," Severus replied dryly.

Harry smiled and lowered his wand slightly. Severus did the same. Neither of them put their wands away.

"So how did you get in here?" asked Severus.

Harry shook his head. "It's best you don't know. And I don't have time to explain." He glanced at the sword in its glass case.

Severus frowned. "Do you know what you're going to do with it?"

"I can't tell you that. I'm sorry."

So, the boy had learned some caution, at least, irritating as it was to be left in the dark.

Severus moved towards Dumbledore's portrait. "It's behind here."

"But-"

"That one's a fake," said Severus. "At least, I presume it is the true sword you want?"

Harry was looking at him suspiciously. "In that case, I'll take them both."

Severus sighed. "And make it clear to everybody that the sword has gone? Use your head, Harry!"

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Did you trust Albus Dumbledore?"

Severus had been expecting an instant affirmation, but it didn't come. Instead, the boy looked stricken for a moment.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I suppose so."

Interesting. Harry's hero-worship appeared to have lessened. Perhaps that would make the final betrayal easier to bear.

"Well, if you expect me to believe that Dumbledore told you how to use the sword, I can expect you to believe that he trusted me to keep it safe for you."

His words were more bitter than he had intended. He wasn't sure exactly how or when Dumbledore had usurped his role as Harry's confidant, but it had irked him more than he cared to admit.

Harry finally nodded.

Severus held out the sword.

The office door exploded. Severus's wand jerked out of his hand and hit the wall above Harry.

"Entertaining visitors, Severus?" Amycus Carrow was leaning on the door frame, his sister behind him.

Severus glanced at Harry, who had grabbed the sword. He no longer had his wand, but Severus's own had landed not two feet away from him. He hoped Harry had seen it.

"You fools!" Severus shouted at the Carrows. "I had to get him off his guard before I could secure him for the Dark Lord!"

Carrow's gaze rested on the sword in Harry's hand, then on the one in the glass case.

"Do you think the Dark Lord will believe him, Alecto? Or will he conclude that Hogwarts is due for a change of leadership?"

"That depends on what we tell him, doesn't it?" she replied.

Just come past that door, Severus thought. The Headmaster's office was protected against unwary intruders, and he had augmented the defences with wards of his own.

But beside him, Harry lunged for the wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

Carrow's wand flew out of his hand. But his sister's was pointed at Severus.

She snarled "Stupefy!" and Severus fell to the floor.

1981

There was a hooded figure already waiting when the Portkey deposited Severus sprawling at the foot of a large tree. The face was in shadow. The stubby wand, aimed towards the tree, was not.

The figure spoke. "Accio wand."

Severus's wand jerked from his pocket. He scrambled to his feet, making sure his own hood was in place.

"Pettigrew."

The other jumped slightly.

"How did you-"

"I'd recognise that wand anywhere." The whiny voice was equally unmistakable.

Severus had half-expected to be disarmed, but not by Pettigrew of all people. If he could provoke the little runt, perhaps he could grab back his wand and make sure Lily was protected once and for all.

But a chilly breath of wind announced the arrival of the Dark Lord. He looked at each of them in turn, and held out his hand. Pettigrew bowed low and laid Severus's wand across his palm. The Dark Lord nodded and beckoned them to follow.

Severus watched Pettigrew from the corner of his eye. He had been expecting the werewolf, or even Black. Why had Lily put her trust in this weakling?

They arrived at the outskirts of the village, and stopped.

"Well?" The Dark Lord's eyes glowed red in dark anticipation. Severus knew that expression; never before had he hated it so much.

Pettigrew swallowed. "The- the home of Lily and James Potter is Ivy Cottage, at the end of Wheal Lane in Godric's Hollow."

The hedge beside them rustled. Branch creaked against branch – and there was the house, an upstairs window cheerfully lit against the dark night.

Run! Get out now! The words beat in Severus mind as if his desperation could transmit them to her – but they were more likely to give him away to the Dark Lord. He had to trust that Dumbledore had heeded his warning. If only Potter hadn't refused him access to the house, he could have warned them directly!

The Dark Lord turned to him. Had he heard Severus's thoughts?

But all he said was, "Go knock on the door, Snape. I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you."

Severus clamped down on his relief; if Lily opened the door, he could grab her and Apparate.

But when he rang the bell, it was Potter who answered.

"Snape? What the hell are you doing here?" He slammed the door. Severus heard him stomp up the stairs.

Stupid, stupid Potter, always getting in his way! If he'd had his wand he could have taken the bastard down!

The Dark Lord's laughter pierced the night. Severus turned, and flung himself aside as a flash of light atomised the door.

He picked himself up and rushed inside. Potter ran down the stairs, wand in hand.

"Stupefy!"

But the jet of red light came from Pettigrew behind him. Potter collapsed against a wall. Severus shoved him aside and ran up the stairs.

And there she was, breathtaking in her ferocity as she stood defiantly in front of the cot. She gasped as she recognised him.

"Sev?"

She hadn't cursed him on sight, thank Merlin. But they had only a few seconds at most.

"Can you Apparate from here?"

"What?"

"The Dark Lord! You need to get out, now!"

He tried to grab her arm but she thrust her wand in his face.

"Get away from me!"

But she was no longer looking at him.

"What a touching reunion." The Dark Lord's voice slithered into the room. Lily's wand jumped out of her hand.

"No, don't hurt him!" she cried. But she was talking about her son.

The Dark Lord spoke again. "Stand aside, girl. There's no need for you to die."

"Please, Lily," Snape pleaded. "Do as he says."

Her magnificent eyes darkened in horror. "You led him here! How could you?"

"No! It wasn't me, I swear!"

"This is my last warning, girl. Step aside!"

Severus fell on his knees before the Dark Lord. "Please don't hurt her, my Lord! I'll do anything!"

"I'd rather die than be saved by you!"

The Dark Lord smiled. "As you wish. Avada Kedavra."

She fell forwards. Severus twisted to catch her. She was warm, she couldn't be dead. He needed her to be alive... her eyes were open!

But they would never look at him again.

He stared at her, numb with disbelief.

And then the room exploded in a green light and a terrible scream that blasted out the side of the house.

Severus flung himself forward to protect her from the rubble.

If only he'd been able to protect her in life! Nothing mattered now she was gone. He rocked back and forth, holding her tightly as he heaved up all his hopeless love in great shuddering sobs.

"Snape?"

It was Pettigrew, intruding on his grief.

"Go away."

"What happened? Where is he?"

Severus blinked. "Who?"

"The Dark Lord! He's gone!"

Severus looked up. Pettigrew was right. The baby was standing in its cot, gurgling at them.

He should have felt curiosity, or fear, or relief. He felt nothing.

He heard Pettigrew's feet on the stairs. Then voices, and heavier steps pounding up towards them.

"Lily! Lily!" Potter's voice. Potter's footsteps, stopping dead at the entrance to the room. "Snape? Snape! What are you doing?"

Severus held her tight. Couldn't he leave them alone?

"Get away from my wife, you fucking pervert!"

Severus snarled at him. "You didn't deserve her, Potter!"

"You evil little-" Potter's hand flew to his pocket – but his wand was gone. He saw the Dark Lord's wand lying between them at the same time as Severus. Both men dived for it.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Severus had been faster. It took a long, long split-second for Potter to crumple to the floor.

Severus dropped the bone-white wand as if it had stung him. The spell had cleared his head. Had he really meant to kill...?

It was self defence, he told himself. Potter would have killed him, he knew that for certain.

And he would have deserved it.

The baby started to cry. Severus eyed it warily. He didn't know what to do with babies at the best of times.

Lily had asked him to protect it.

Lily had died hating him, despite everything.

But her son was alive, and he was the godfather, of sorts.

Downstairs, there was silence: Pettigrew was long gone. And he had done the actual betraying, after all – he was unlikely to surface any time soon. No one would know what had really happened here.

Severus picked up the baby. It grabbed a fold of his robe in its tiny fist.

He would take it to Dumbledore. And maybe he could honour Lily's wish that he look out for her son.

And maybe, even in a world forever darkened by her absence, he might one day find a glimmer of hope.

1998

Harry was gone.

Not dead, not that he knew of for certain. But Severus had heard nothing from him since he had taken the sword and nor, to the best of his knowledge, had anyone else.

They would shout it from the skies if they'd captured him, surely? Or would they keep it quiet, lest their enemies became desperate enough to act without him?

Severus was, needless to say, no longer in the Inner Circle. They had kept him at the school, though, probably to keep an eye on him. Which was ironic, considering they had no idea about his private research.

He had only managed to get out of Hogwarts twice. Neither time had he found any trace of Harry.

It gnawed at him, more than he thought it should. Not the loss of Harry Potter, the Only Hope, but of Harry, Lily's son.

If only he hadn't killed Harry's father, on that worst night of his life... If only Harry hadn't learned to trust him, perhaps he wouldn't have walked into the trap of which Severus had been the unwitting bait.

But it was too late for 'if onlys'.

The liquid in the miniature phial was deep blue: the unknowable dark combined with a promise of possibility. The ingredients he'd distilled to brew even this tiny amount had cost hundreds of Galleons.

Drinking it would cost his life. If it worked.

There was no precise formula; he knew that now. Even the Unspeakables had not mastered all the mysteries of Time.

It was said one could look beyond the linear progression of event and cause. It was said to be possible to brew a potion that would give the drinker that vision – and the power to influence any choice in his life, not just the next one in the chain. He wasn't sure whether it was history passed into myth or Lovegoodian loopiness or both, but in it he had anchored his hope for years.

Then, he had dreamed of finding the magic word or action that would have made Lily admire the best of him and overlook the worst. Of finding a way to persuade the Sorting Hat to send him to Ravenclaw, or of daring to reject Malfoy's overtures. But there were too many variables.

And he didn't deserve her. He hadn't deserved her son's trust.

No, the best thing he could do was to leave her alone. If the Dark Lord hadn't seen her as Severus's weakness, he would not have been so quick to kill her. If the Death Eaters hadn't branded him a Mugglelover, he might have been in a better position to protect her, and her son.

He could not – and would not – deny himself the golden early memories. But next time, if she told him to go away he would stay away. Perhaps he would end up not caring about her at all. But at least she would be alive.

He despised people who surrendered to despair and took their own lives, leaving everyone else to pick up the pieces. But, even had anyone been left to care about him, this was different. If he continued on now that he had the option of going back, it would be a choice born not of hope, but of fear.

Severus took the stopper from the phial, and drank.