Alter Ego

Alter Ego

"Of course you can't play," James said.

Sirius and Remus nodded in agreement. Lily felt a surge of irritation. Why did they have to treat James like some kind of wonderful leader all the time? They were a group of friends, not a secret society. And why did they have to boss her around? Then she felt guilty. They were only thinking of her health.

"But it's the last Quidditch mach we'll ever play at Hogwarts!" she protested, "we've never had a match against Beauxbatons before now!"

"You've sprained your wrist," Remus reminded her gently. "I know it's tough, but you can't possibly play. You know what Madam Pomfrey said."

Lily sighed. She had been keenly looking forward to the approaching Quidditch match between Beauxbatons and Hogwarts, after being selected for the school team as a chaser a month ago. She had also been looking forward to visiting France with James, who had been chosen as Hogwarts seeker. Sirius was also playing as keeper, and Remus and Peter would be going along to support, having finished their NEWTs the previous week. She would be completely alone.

It was her own fault, she thought. She shouldn't have lost her temper in the Quidditch match a few days ago between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. But the insults the Hufflepuff keeper had yelled at her after she'd just scored a goal for Gryffindor, had not unsurprisingly made her see red.

She remembered with satisfaction the look on his face when she had punched him so hard his nose had started to bleed. Unfortunately in doing this she had lost her balance on her broom, and crashed several feet to the ground below. Being Lily Evans, who was always lucky, she had escaped with nothing more than a sprained wrist and a detention.

"Why don't you come and support us?" James asked, breaking into her reverie. "It could still be fun."

"I don't think so," Lily said firmly. Seeing his hurt expression she explained: "I don't think I could stand watching you from the sidelines when I can't play."

"Of course," said James understandingly. Remus and Sirius exchanged glances. Lily could tell they thought she was being selfish. Other girlfriends didn't act like this. Grace Dean and Helen Marr, their respective on/off girlfriends, were docile and admiring, and never insisted on playing Quidditch or seeking the limelight. They were content to watch Remus and Sirius from the sidelines, wearing pastel scarves and cheering sporadically.

Lily found herself grinding her teeth. She loved James of course; it was just she hadn't bargained for dating his friends as well as him. Maybe it would be good to have some time away from them all...

"James, have you sorted out the arrangements for Monday?" Sirius asked, with an ostentatiously meaningful look. (Do they have to take their stupid pranks so seriously? Lily thought disloyally.) She had no idea what Sirius was referring too, but the other marauders began conversing in low whispers about their latest prank, whilst Lily chewed her cereal irritably.

She looked up to find a pair of dark eyes surveying her coolly. Severus Snape was watching her from the Slytherin table. There was malicious laughter in his gaze, and something else, something vaguely alarming which she did not understand.

Lily did not associate with Snape; it would have been out of the question. She was the golden girl: beautiful, intelligent, with a perfect record and a handsome boyfriend. Snape was, if truth were told, an untouchable. Aloof, sarcastic and too clever by half, his perfect grades did little to endear him to the teachers. There were rumours, vague but persistent, that he was involved with certain unsuitable characters, and his motley gang of Slytherins were feared or loathed by almost all of the Gryffindors.

Lily was irritated by his scrutiny. What right did he have to stare at her like that, as if he knew what she was thinking? She shot him an angry look. He started slightly, he had not realized that she had noticed his gaze.

For a split second he stared at her unguardedly. It was if a mask had slipped. Lily saw something in his expression which she understood for the first time: with a feeling of horror she realized that he loved her.

Suddenly, thousands of small incidents from their schooldays seemed to make sense. She wondered at her blindness at not realizing sooner. But really, it was almost impossible to tell what Snape was thinking; his face was usually expressionless or sneering.

A moment later Snape left the Slytherin table without even looking at her. Lily sat silently amongst the chatter of the marauders, her thoughts in a whirl.

It was the next day, and Lily was feeling extremely lonely and forlorn. Most of the school seemed to have gone to Beauxbatons to watch the match, and the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Regretting her decision to stay at school, she went rather sadly down to lunch, where she found that she was the only person at the Gryffindor table, apart from a group of rather shifty-looking fifth years at the other end.

She sat down glumly, and wondered whether to ask if she could take a late portkey to Beauxbatons. And if being left behind wasn't enough, she now also had to deal with the disturbing knowledge that Snape of all people was in love with her.

She had not told James or his friends what she had discovered. For one thing she was not entirely sure how she felt about it yet. She also felt an odd sympathy for Severus, however mean he might be, he hardly deserved the merciless teasing the marauders would subject him to if they found out. (Remus and Sirius would have disagreed with her about this.)

It was quite flattering, in a way, she thought. Admittedly Snape wasn't a great catch; according to rumour he was one of the select band Slytherins who were already being initiated into the service of Voldemort. And he was hardly good looking, she thought. He was mean, and arrogant, and could never take the trouble to wash his hair, but some girls were prepared to overlook this because of his aura of danger, the disturbing intelligence of his dark eyes and his voice, which was both cultured and seductive.

Lily suddenly realized what she was thinking. How could she be considering of Snape like that? He was James' enemy, she told herself firmly. She stood up from the table like one in a dream, and left the hall. As she was heading for the Gryffindor common room he thoughts were interrupted by a large barn owl swooping through one of the open windows and dropping a postcard in her outstretched hand. It was from James. Lily recognised the slanted, almost illegible scrawl. So different from Snape's neat flowing script, her brain reminded her. Brushing aside this irrelevant and faintly troubling thought, she concentrated on the postcard:

Dear Lily,

I bet you wish you'd come now! We're having a great time, we're just about to start play now, so wish us luck! Everyone's having a great time, there's this stunning girl on the Beauxbatons team called Estelle Delacour & we think she's part veela. Sirius, Remus and Peter are all completely smitten!

Anyway, missing you, see you tomorrow!

James

Lily was touched that he'd remembered her. But did he really have to tell her about the girls at Beauxbatons? And why had he just signed himself "James"? Why not "love James"? Sirius had probably been reading it over James' shoulder, she thought crossly, ready to mock any sign of sentiment.

She sighed, and returned to the Gryffindor common room, which she discovered was full of bottles of various alcoholic drinks. Lily would normally have been disapproving to see the common room filled with crates of butterbeer, but at the moment she was too preoccupied to give it her undivided attention. She picked up a bottle of butterbeer with a puzzled expression.

Then she caught sight of the group of fifth years who had not gone to the Quidditch match. They were seated in front of the fire wearing vague smiles and sipping butterbeer out of mugs. They seemed to be in the middle of a game of strip exploding snap. They had obviously decided to catch up on some illicit boozing whilst the castle was more or less deserted.

"Help yourself," one of the Fifth years called. Lily was about to refuse, she didn't normally drink much, and besides, they were breaking the rules, but then she changed her mind. Why shouldn't she have a bit of fun? James was probably getting to know the gorgeous Estelle Delacour. (Had he mentioned her deliberately to make Lily jealous?)

Lily smiled indulgently at the inebriated Fifth years and opened a bottle of butterbeer. It was the first of many. A few hours later, Lily left the Gryffindor common room with an unsteady gait, leaving the fifth years more or less unconscious on the common room floor... She needed to get to the kitchen to get more alcohol, but somehow she couldn't seem to remember the way.

The corridor seemed to spin slightly, and a black shape loomed out of the shadows. Lily gave a slight gasp. It was Snape.

"You were at the match," she said stupidly.

"I came back," he said unnecessarily. Lily swayed on the spot. Snape's customary sneer changed to a look of concern.

"Are you alright?"

"Drank too much." Lily said thickly, "James is off with gorgeous veela girl."

Snape looked at her mockingly.

"You're the head girl," he said tauntingly "You should be setting a good example to us mere mortals, instead of turning into an alcoholic."

"Don't lecture me," Lily retorted angrily, "you're the one who's a death eater."

Snape paled, and gave her a look of sudden fury. Lily realised he would have liked to hit her, but then he just said

"You're not yourself." Then he turned away. He was halfway down the corridor when Lily said:

"You love me."

Suddenly the whole thing struck her as ridiculous. She gave a faint giggle. "James would kill you if he found out."

Snape stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly he turned around.

"I don't know if this is a delusion you've been harbouring for some time or just the butterbeer talking, but rest assured, I certainly don't love you," he sneered. But he could not completely disguise the expression in his eyes. Lily said nothing. She was enjoying the rare spectacle of Snape at a loss. Something in her face annoyed him, and prevented him from walking away.

"I mean it!" he said exasperatedly, stepping towards her.

Lily remained silent, but her expression was both sceptical and taunting.

"I don't love you," he repeated. They were almost touching. In a sudden gentle movement Snape bent and kissed her.

"I could never love you," he said softly.

There was a sense of unreality about it. Snape, whom she loathed and feared in equal measure, had just kissed her. Lily stood motionless in shock.

"I hate you," she whispered. The tone of her voice made it seem more like an endearment.

"Well you'll have something to laugh about with James when he gets back." Snape retorted with a sudden bitterness. His expression had reverted to his habitual sarcastic disdain. Lily felt a sudden irrational surge of anger at this tall, smug youth who could just kiss her and then walk off with a gibe. Before she knew what she was doing her hand flew up and she slapped him. It sounded frighteningly loud in the deserted corridor. Snape stood motionless, one side of his sallow face redder than the other. A flame flickered in his usually emotionless black eyes. Lily felt a faint satisfaction.

"I'm sorry." she said, more to break the horrible silence than as an apology.

"You will be."

Snape had already turned and was leaving. His reply was somewhere between a threat and a promise.

Lily clenched her fists in anger. Aloof annoying bastard! What's come over me? she thought wretchedly. She seemed to making a habit of attacking people, and it was not like her to be violent. It was not like Lily to toy with anyone's affections, even Snape's (whom the marauders would have said deserved it). Nor was it like her to be unfaithful to James. Perhaps that was the problem. She was tired of the role people insisted in casting her in. She didn't have to be nice all the time. She loved James, she enjoyed being head girl and was proud of her high grades and good reputation. But that wasn't all she was.

She began to feel guilty. James loved her, and she loved him. The complicated mix of loathing and desire she felt for Snape was not love, she told herself firmly. How could she have acted like that? It's the alcohol, she told herself. Alcohol and self-pity.

The Gryffindor common room seemed drearier than ever when she returned. The fifth years were still sprawled snoring on the floor, and the fire had burned low. It was nearly midnight. I'll go to bed, she told herself, get some rest. James is coming home tomorrow. I can forget this ever happened. Telling herself this, she climbed the darkened stairs to her empty dormitory. There she undressed and got into bed. She lay there sleeplessly for half an hour. Then she sat up in bed and groped for her wand.

"Lumos," she whispered, and her wand lit up. She retrieved her dressing gown and slippers, before conjuring several candles to light up the room, which was unpleasantly spooky without its usual inhabitants.

Lily decided to go down to the common room. If the fifth years were still there she would wake them up and see if they wanted another drinking session. If she was going to become a heavy drinker she might as well have company.

But when she got downstairs she found the common room deserted and in darkness. Irritably she pointed her wand at the fireplace and magicked a new fire. Then she pulled up one of the armchairs and sat herself down. Hot chocolate, she thought, that might send me to sleep.

She conjured herself a mug of hot chocolate, and sipped it slowly, staring into the flames. Her sprained wrist ached faintly. James was probably sleeping soundly now, she thought, or having some kind of high jinks round Beauxbatons.

Why did Snape come back?

The question slid into her sleepy brain as suddenly as if another person had asked it. Had he known she was lonely? Or was he up to something? Perhaps he wanted to be with me, she thought.

The silence of the common room became suddenly unbearable, every shadow seemed threatening. Lily felt an urgent need for human company. She stood up, and made for the common room exit. She made her way through the deserted corridors, ignoring the voice of reason, which was telling her to go straight back to bed. She made her way steadily towards the Slytherin common room.

She was almost outside the Slytherin common room, wondering what to do next, and what the hell she was doing anyway, when a shape loomed out of the darkness, shrouded in shadow. She screamed.

"Shut up!" an irritable voice hissed. Lily subsided, her hands shaking.

"Snape," she said, realising who the voice belonged to. "What are you doing here?" she asked as an afterthought.

"This is the entrance to my common room, in case you've forgotten," he replied dryly. "Paying a social call, are you? Or did you have something else in mind?"

"If you're implying that I came looking for you, than you're even stupider than you look." Lily retorted sharply, glad that the darkness hid the fact that she was blushing. Snape didn't reply immediately, but Lily was aware of his infuriating smile, even in the semi-darkness of the corridor.

Suddenly, neither knew quite how it happened, they were in each other's arms. It was like a dream, Lily thought incoherently, it couldn't really be happening.

"What am I doing?"

"Oh I think you know what you're doing," Snape said. They looked at each other.

"One night only," she said, wondering if it was she who was speaking.

"Then we go our separate ways," Snape agreed. His coldness both repelled and attracted her. Quickly he murmured the password to the Slytherin common room and they stepped inside.

"Ow!" Lily exclaimed, feeling a sharp pain in her arm. Snape looked at her in alarm. She had scraped her arm against a jutting stone ornament in the doorway. It had made a deep, thin cut on the outside of her right forearm.

"How very Slytherin," she remarked, "even the wall is out to get me."

They were inside the common room now, the door closed silently behind them. They stared at each other. Lily had the strange feeling that Snape was learning her features by heart. It occurred to her suddenly that she might harm him very badly. She felt both powerful in the knowledge and pity for Snape.

"I could...hurt you," she whispered. "I love James."

"I could hurt you," he replied. He was taller than she was, she noted, and probably much stronger.

"You could love me," he said gravely, smoothing her hair, which was dishevelled from sleep.

How strange it was, she thought, that whilst she could never contemplate liking Snape, she could imagine herself being in love with him.

"You could love me," he persisted softly.

"For one night," she said slowly. For one night, to be free of the constraints of goodness, of reason, not to have to be or do anything that she didn't want to.

Moonlight streamed through the windows as Snape led her up a spiral staircase. He pushed open an oak door, and Lily gasped in amazement. The roof of Snape's room was covered with billions of stars. He had managed to enchant the ceiling so that it showed the sky above, just like the spell in the great hall.

"How did you...?" she began. Snape smiled, a smile she had never seen before.

"Whilst your friends were taking the time to become animagi, I was rather better employed." he said without bitterness. She looked at him.

"You know?" she asked. He nodded.

"I see a lot," he said briefly. Together they stared through the ceiling at the sky above. Snape had somehow managed the charm on the ceiling so that light from the sky could actually enter the room, and the room was softly lit by the moonlight. Lily watched his face, devoid of its usual sardonic expression and made strange by the moonlight.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked suddenly. She hadn't realised he'd seen her watching this. She nodded. She had no idea why she was acting like this, but something about the darkness, the danger and loneliness of it touched a chord in her that she had never known existed.

"I don't know what James would have to say about this," he jibed, kissing her again.

She wrenched herself angrily from his embrace.

"Bastard," she hissed.

Then the came together again in a furious embrace. She wanted to hurt him, more than she had ever wanted to hurt anyone before.

They parted, both out of breath. Snape stroked his face, where she had left the imprints of her nails. He realised dispassionately that she had drawn blood. They kissed, and Snape felt a wild laughter welling up inside him at the strangeness, the ludicrousness of the situation.

Then he led her over to the large bed he had acquired a year ago through rather devious means. Lily's hair seemed almost colourless in the moonlight, the smooth symmetry of her body made him catch his breath. Their embrace was fierce and painful and neither of them wanted it to end.

It was one o clock in the morning. Snape lay motionless in the white bed, watching Lily sleeping. Her face looked different, more vulnerable, with the dazzling eyes closed. Her breathing was low and regular. He wondered if she would be able to forgive him for what had happened. He noticed the vivid red line where she had scraped her arm, and suppressed an urge to run his fingers down the wound. It was odd, this love of his, he thought.

In some moods he actively disliked her, disliked what she stood for, the goodness, the blandness, the way she belonged, something he had never experienced. He was a Slytherin, and an intelligent one at that. He was also Severus Snape, and the gift of friendship had been denied him. He was meant, he thought grimly, to be alone. He was harsh, moody, and independent. And already he was immersed in the dark side.

He had thought of James, of course, as he kissed her. He thought of the other arms which had embraced her, imagined the other's kisses lingering on the lips of the woman he loved. There was a petty enjoyment, naturally, from sleeping with the girlfriend of the person he loathed. But just as his love for Lily was tinged with hatred, his obsessive loathing of Potter might sometimes have been mistaken for love. The thought of Potter had not disturbed him.

They belonged together, those two. They were the golden couple, laughing, beautiful, happy. Snape, formed out of darkness, could not come between them. But there is darkness in her too, he reminded himself, touching the marks her nails had left on his face. There might be a scar, he thought, with a faint feeling of pleasure.

Somewhere in the castle, a clock chimed. It was six o clock. Suddenly Snape sat up in bed with a start. The rest of the school would be back from the Quidditch match in half an hour: due to complications with the portkey they had been forced to arrange the departure for this ungodly hour. Lily could not be found there. Strangely enough, the thought of betraying her had not occurred to him. Although it would have been a wonderful revenge on James Potter for her to be found there, at that moment he could not have endured hurting her. Carefully he wrapped her in her discarded clothes, moving silently so as not to wake her. Then he lifted her up from the bed, and carried her downstairs.

Lily was puzzled afterward as to how she had got back in her own bed; Snape had carried her silently through the school, and into the Gryffindor common room, before laying her in one of the armchairs and wrapping a blanket around her. How he knew the Gryffindor password must remain a mystery, but Snape was as fond of midnight wanderings as the marauders, and had a gift for finding out useful information which was to stand him in great stead in later life.

He often thought of that slow journey afterwards, as he brought her secretly back to her house, guided by the faint light of the dawn. Her face had been faintly flushed, her bright hair smooth against his arms.

He laid her gently in the armchair. He did not know which dormitory was hers, so it was safer just to leave her there. He knelt beside her, and kissed her for the last time. There was a enjoyable sadness in it, the pain which he knew was to come only made the pleasure more sweet.

Half awake, she stared at him, her eyes as green as glass.

"I love you," she half whispered. And Snape believed her, something he could not understand, he who was so logical and sceptical about everything. At that moment, he thought afterwards, she had loved him.

"If you ever need my help," he said, speaking with some impulse he did not understand, "I will do anything. I swear I will protect you."

The beautiful green eyes looked into his.

"Thank you," she murmured. A few minutes later she was asleep, and afterwards could only vaguely remember this conversation. Snape kissed her forehead with a tenderness which would have astonished anyone who knew him.

Then he disappeared into the shadows, as if the darkness had swallowed him.

"The referee was clearly biased!" Remus was saying passionately.

The other three marauders nodded agreement. The Hogwarts-Beauxbatons match had not been a resounding success for the Hogwarts team; they had lost the match with a hundred and fifty points to three hundred.

Lily smiled slyly.

"Maybe they were just better than you," she suggested mischievously,

"Rubbish!"

"Impossible!"

"You're just jealous because you weren't there!"

It was breakfast, the day after the team and supporters had returned from Beauxbatons. James and Sirius had insisted on giving Lily a blow by blow account of the match, which she found faintly irritating because she hadn't been there to play it. However, she got her revenge by explaining to them exactly how they should have played the match, and pointing out each one of their mistakes.

"I should never have started dating a girl who plays Quidditch!" James joked. "I missed you," he added softly.

"I missed you too," Lily replied. Her eyes were full of love and guilt, but James saw only that they were beautiful. As it was a completely natural thing to do, he leaned forward and kissed her. She thought how much she loved him, his charm, his shyness, his kindness, even his hair, which had been submitted to every potion and gel known to wizard kind, and which would still not lie flat.

"I love you," she said quietly. Then in a normal voice she added, "so tell me what happened between Remus and Estelle Delacour...?"

She had heard rumours of what had happened, but no one had told her the full story. Remus groaned, and buried his head in his hands.

"Do we have to go into this?" he asked.

"Yes!" Lily replied heartlessly.

"Well, Moony here was rather struck by the fascinating Miss Delacour," Sirius began, trying not to laugh

"So were you," Remus pointed out indignantly, but Sirius ignored him

"So he goes over to her, starts talking to her, tries to flirt, and she seems to like him, they get quite friendly."

"Until...?" Lily prompted

"Until the intrepid Remus plucks up the courage to ask for her address. Unfortunately he doesn't notice that sitting next to her is a guy almost as big as Hagrid, who turns out to be her husband!"

Everyone apart from Remus dissolved into laughter.

"Her husband!" Lily exclaimed, as soon as she could speak

"They marry earlier in France," Remus explained stiffly.

"And the worst of it was he was insanely jealous, so Remus had to spend most of the match hiding from him and a bunch of his cronies, who wanted to tear him limb from limb!"

Remus had gone slightly red. The others were laughing so loudly that people were giving them funny looks. It's nice to be back, Lily thought suddenly. This was where she belonged, after all.

"What does that git want?" Sirius said suddenly. Lily looked up sharply and saw that Snape had left the Slytherin table and was coming towards them.

He was even paler than usual, his dark eyes had shadows under them. His face was expressionless.

"Lily," he said, "you dropped this in the library. Professor Tarquin asked me to give it back to you." he held out a delicate green necklace, made out of translucent glass beads. Green, the colour of magic, the colour of Slytherin. The colour of her eyes. Lily had never seen it before in her life. But she understood. It was a pledge: of love, of respect. He meant her to know that he would do nothing to hurt her or endanger her relationship with James. She would always have his protection.

"Thank you," she said calmly, stretching out her hand and taking the necklace. Snape saw the smile, the understanding in her eyes and was content. He turned to go, wearing his most inscrutable expression.

"Hey Snape," Sirius asked, "what happened to your face? Not that anything could make it look uglier."

Lily noticed with surprise the livid red marks on Snape's face. He had not even cried out, but she must have made him bleed to cause such deep wounds.

"Mrs Norris," Snape replied briefly, "I trod on her tail." Lily could not suppress a small smile. "Have a good summer," Snape added.

Then he left and went back to his gang of Slytherins, who had been watching him with slightly puzzled expressions.

"That guy," Sirius said emphatically, ladling more porridge into his bowl, "is weird."

**********************************************************************

The storm beat down outside the small cottage in which was the base for Dumbledore's operations against Lord Voldemort. Everyone inside jumped as someone hammered at the door.

"Is it...?" Arabella Figg began, her expression full of fear.

Dumbledore went to the window and stared out into the tempest outside.

"One death eater only," he said. "Lord Voldemort has yet to honour us with his presence."

"Who is it?" Moody growled from the fireplace, his face almost eclipsed by the smoke from his pipe.

"Someone I've been waiting for a long time," Dumbledore said, drawing back the bolts, which were secured by magic as well as more traditional locks. The rest of the Order of the Phoenix watched Dumbledore intently, wishing (not for the first time) that Dumbledore didn't make quite so many mysterious speeches. Finally, Dumbledore drew open the door.

Snape stood on the doorstep, shrouded in a deep hooded cloak. He was soaked to the skin, and shivering. As Dumbledore ushered him inside he removed his hood. His face was flushed, his eyes unnaturally bright.

The Order of the Phoenix stared at him in mingled horror and curiosity. Moody made a sudden movement and would have stunned Snape as he stood, had Dumbledore not made a warning gesture for him to be still.

"The prodigal returns," Snape said dryly. Then he collapsed.

When he became conscious, he was sitting in a comfortable armchair in front of the fire. The order of the Phoenix were talking in low voices.

"I don't care what you say," Moody was saying, "I think we should hand him over to the dementors and let them question him."

"Why did he come here anyway?" a quiet voice asked from the back of the room. It was Remus Lupin, who had only just arrived, looking rather haggard. Everyone looked at him.

"What are you doing here?" Dumbledore asked, "What about Lily?"

"Half an hour ago," Remus said, "A healthy baby boy." Snape was forgotten for a moment as everyone began interrogating him about the baby.

"How's Lily?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fine," Remus replied, smiling, "and James is so proud the midwife thought he was drunk. They sent me along so that we wouldn't miss out on what was happening here."

Snape stood up, making everyone jump. Dumbledore noted his shaking hands with concern. Before he could say anything, Moody pointed his wand directly at Snape

"Why are you here?" he demanded roughly.

"I've seen the error of my ways," Snape said dryly. Being Snape, he couldn't even reform in a pleasant manner. "I've come to bring you information which might prove useful."

"What have you got to tell us?" Dumbledore asked evenly.

"Don't bother listening to him," Moody said angrily, "it's clearly a trap."

The members of the order of the phoenix murmured their agreement.

"Let us hear what he has to say before we start making conclusions," Dumbledore said patiently.

"James and Lily Potter," Snape began. "Voldemort is after them. The sooner they go into hiding the better. He's going to carry out their murder himself."

Exclamations of terror and disbelief filled the small room.

"Why should we believe you?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Snape rolled up his right sleeve. His arm was horribly mangled and wounded. Dumbledore suddenly understood the reason for the limp Snape had taken pains to suppress.

"I bear him a grudge," Snape said softly. "I will not serve him any more."

Dumbledore gave him a penetrating look.

"I believe you," he said "not because of the reason you have given me, but because I know you better than you think. But the others will be rather harder to convince." He gestured to Moody, who was wearing a look of deep scepticism.

"You think it's a trap?" Snape asked. He began to laugh, horribly, mirthlessly. For a moment the room was silent but for the hideous sound.

"Wait and see," Snape said harshly, when the spasm had passed. He sank back into the armchair and closed his eyes.

"You're not going to believe him, are you?" Moody demanded roughly.

"I do believe him." Dumbledore said quietly. Snape looked at him gratefully. "But you must understand that you can only expect to be regarded with suspicion among us."

Snape nodded.

"I propose that we accept Mr Snape into our group in the capacity of a spy." Dumbledore said calmly.

Snape stood up.

"No," he said, his face full of panic, "I can't do that. Please don't make me do that."

"You want to redeem yourself don't you?" Dumbledore said. Snape nodded.

"I'm not afraid of dying," he said, "just don't send me back to that life. I can't stand it any more." The hectic colour had left his face, and in the firelight he looked almost corpse like.

"Sleep tonight," Dumbledore said. "Tomorrow we will decide." He gestured to the house elf who was stoking up the fire.

"Please will you take Mr Snape to a bedroom where he can sleep," he asked the elf politely.

Snape left the room after the elf, shooting Remus Lupin a nasty glance over his shoulder.

"Now," said Dumbledore, as the door slammed shut behind him, "let's decide how we are going to protect James and Lily."

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" Lily murmured. James looked at his wife and son with adoring eyes.

"He's wonderful," he said softly.

They both started as Sirius burst into the room in a particularly effervescent mood.

"How's my favourite godson?" he asked. He bent over the baby lying peacefully in Lily's arms. "When he's older, you've got to let him come and stay with me and I'll teach him how to fly."

"Over my dead body!" Lily exclaimed in mock anger. "Our son has me as his mother, and I'll be teaching him how to fly thank you very much!"

They began bickering amiably about what position Harry would play, and whether Lily, James or Sirius would make a better teacher.

It was much later when Remus got back. He found Sirius sitting in front of the fireplace, half asleep.

"Where's James?" Remus asked.

"With Lily of course," Sirius said sleepily, "they're taking on over that baby as if he's a miracle." Remus smiled.

"You seemed to making as much fuss over him as anyone," he said. But then his expression became grave again.

"What is it?" Sirius asked sharply.

"Voldemort," Remus said shortly. "He's after them."

"Well, it was only a matter of time," Sirius said. "What's going to happen now?"

"They'll have to go into hiding," Remus replied. "I didn't stay to find out how. Snape was there."

"Snape? " spluttered Sirius, "What they hell was he doing there?"

"He's going to be a spy," Remus said.

"Him!" Sirius exclaimed. "How can Dumbledore be stupid enough to trust him?"

"He was the one who told us about Lily and James," Remus explained. "And in my experience Dumbledore knows exactly who to trust. He took me in. Not many headmasters would have done that."

Sirius said nothing, but his expression was still sceptical.

A faint noise from the doorway made them both look up. Lily was standing in the doorway, Harry clasped in her arms.

"James fell asleep," she said softly. Remus looked at her anxiously.

"Did you hear...?" Lily nodded.

"Don't worry," she said. "I knew it had to come sooner or later."

She brushed their anxious enquiries aside, and went rather unsteadily into the kitchen to fetch herself a glass of water. She had not thought about Snape in a long time.

Outside the storm was still raging.

One good turn... she thought. He had promised to protect her at any cost. Snape was the sort of person who kept his word. She thought of his loneliness, the sacrifice he must have made to go to the people who he knew would despise and distrust him, for her sake.

Clasping her cherished baby tightly, she looked out at the storm. Not everyone was as lucky as she was, she thought, staring out into the darkness.