The Worm That Turned

Chapter 8 -Vienna

Consciousness crept over Severus gradually, with a slow realisation that he was lying in a bed, in a strange place. He was aware of a dull pain in his stomach, which felt as though it had been hollowed out. Hardly daring to do so, he thought of Lily, and at once his heart swelled. He felt the usual giddy spiral of confused emotion, followed by disappointment. It hadn't worked. With a surge of adrenaline, he opened his eyes.

He was in St Mungo's, in what appeared to be Joseph Fingles ward - potion and plant poisoning. Next to his bed, Lucius was sitting reading the newspaper. The sight was so familiar, right down to the way he sprawled in his chair with his legs stretched out, that Severus couldn't help but smile. But what was Malfoy doing there? Clearly something had gone badly wrong with his plan.

Some sixth sense must have alerted Lucius to the scrutiny, because he looked round suddenly. 'You're awake then,' he said, rather coldly, sitting up a little straighter and laying the paper down on his lap. 'How do you feel?'

'A bit woozy,' responded Severus, sitting up a bit. 'What the hell happened?'

'I was waiting for you to tell me.' Lucius' voice was still cold, and Severus could tell his friend was really angry.

'I don't know. I drank some of the potion and then...' his voice trailed away. 'I must have made a mistake. I must have made it wrong.'

Lucius was looking at him very hard. Eventually he said in a tight voice, 'I found you on the floor, nearly dead, next to a cauldron full of poison.' There was a definite note of accusation in his tone, and Severus suddenly realised that Lucius thought he'd done it deliberately.

'I didn't mean to top myself, if that's what you think,' he said quickly. 'I was making a potion I'd never made before, and I must have made a mistake. It was lucky that you came when you did. You saved my life.' Lucky. Perhaps it had been the Felix.

He could tell that Malfoy didn't believe him. 'You, make a mistake with a potion?' He made an incredulous sound. 'I find it hard to believe there can be a single potion that you haven't made at some point. What was this rarest of concoctions?'

'It doesn't matter. Listen, you know I can very easily and successfully make any number of deadly poisons that would finish me off instantly. If I'd intended to kill myself, Lucius, believe me, I would have succeeded.'

'Really. And yet you are always so successful at potion making, Severus. I would have thought you virtually infallible. How odd that you would make a mistake over something so crucial. And you still haven't told me what this potion is.' Lucius' voice was still tight with emotion, though whether it was pure rage or something more complicated Severus wasn't sure.

Severus didn't like the thought of Lucius imagining him suicidal, so he decided he'd better go for an approximation of the truth. So he took a deep breath and said, 'It was a Hate potion.'

'A what?' Lucius looked as though he was starting to wonder if his friend had gone mad.

'A Hate potion. Like a Love potion, but in reverse. If you drink one it makes all of a person's worst faults and failings apparent to you. There isn't much call for them, but I found the recipe in an old book. I was a little... distracted when I made it, I must have overdone the armadillo bile. In fact, do you think the cauldron's still there? It might have spoiled by now, but it would be fascinating to work out where I went wrong.'

'Never mind your researches,' snapped Lucius, his short patience apparently having worn thin. 'Why the blue blazes were you drinking a reverse Love potion in the first place?'

His lie now worked out, Severus made a great play of reluctance, glancing cautiously around the room, causing Lucius to follow suit. 'There's a woman I like. Wife of a colleague. Unobtainable. But I can't get her out of my head. It was driving me mad, so I thought the Hate potion would cure me. It's a tricky potion with some nasty ingredients in, I should have taken more care. Perhaps I just got over-confident.' Blasted Felix.

Lucius seemed to be taking this in. 'Why didn't you tell me?' he asked eventually. 'I could have helped. Got this husband out of the way. Put her under Imperius. Or you could have slipped her a Love potion somehow - assuming you can manage to brew one of those correctly. Either way, we could have sorted it out without you needing to poison yourself.'

'I wasn't trying to poison myself,' he repeated. 'And it's not the point. I don't want to feel like I do about her. It's a distraction. It's a waste of my energy. Besides, we've all heard about how unrequited feelings can sap a wizard's power. I'm not giving up my power so I can feel sorry for myself over some jumped up witch who thinks she's better than me.'

'For goodness sake, Severus.' Lucius shook his head. 'I will never understand you if I live to be two hundred.' He folded up the Prophet with sharp crackle of paper and rose to leave. 'I've got jobs to do. When they let you out, come to the Manor. Cissy and I are off to Vienna on Tuesday for the International Confederation of Warlocks annual do. You should come with us.'

'Come with you?' he echoed, astonished. 'Lew, I don't think Narcissa is going to like that.'

'Leave Narcissa to me, I need to keep an eye on you. You've been working too hard, and we both know how bizarrely you can behave when you're overworked. You could do with a holiday. I'm sure this place will let you have some time.' He hitched his cloak around his shoulders. 'And no more drinking mystery potions. Next time I find you gasping out your last breaths, I'm leaving you to it.'

Severus watched his friend stalk away along the ward, and then reached for his wand. He realised he must have been pretty close to death for Lucius to be so rattled. He remembered how he'd felt whilst making the potion, giddy and feverish. He shook his head at his own stupidity. Ruled by emotions. Maybe this would teach him a lesson. Thoughtfully, he summoned the medical notes from the end of his bed and began to read.

*****

'...supposed to be a nice holiday, just you and me - it's hard enough to get you to go anywhere these days...'

'Cissy, I've heard this a million times before,' interrupted Lucius, sounding weary. 'He's coming, and that's final.'

'If he wants to kill himself I don't know why you don't just let him get on with it. All this running around after him, that's exactly what he wants. It's just attention seeking. Dobby, how many times do I have to tell you to be careful with those!' There was a sharp shriek of pain from the elf, which caused Severus to wince. His eavesdropping spell magnified loud noises to a painful degree.

'Listen, we'll get lots of time alone. He doesn't have to go everywhere with us. I'm sure he'll want to go to all the boring lectures. There'll be plenty of time to do things-' there was an unpleasant squelching sound, which Severus recognised as kissing - 'we want to.'

Hastily ending the spell, Severus returned to sit in the parlour. His trunk, packed with his meagre clothes, was waiting by the fireplace. The Malfoys were taking an eternity to pack. It was beyond him what could possibly take so long. It had taken him less than five minutes to find and throw into his old school trunk some clean underwear, a toothbrush, and a couple of his favourite books.

He picked up the glossy brochure on the coffee table and read for the fiftieth time the embossed title, 'International Confederation of Warlocks Annual Conference, 1979'. The pages inside described the seminars, the guest speakers, and the endless dinners and balls. From what Severus could see, his path would rarely cross the Malfoys'. He had no intention of attending any of the tedious social events that were their main reason for going, and he would be extremely surprised if they would want to sit through 'Innovations in Transfiguration,' or 'An In-Depth Exploration of the Arithmetic Properties of One-Hundred-and-Eleven.'

'Iron these properly, you worthless little beast!' came a scream from upstairs, accompanied by a wail and a thump. Dobby the house-elf had just landed face down at the bottom of the stairs. Narcissa had a mean hex on her when she was angry.

'Bad elf! Dobby is bad bad elf!' wept the creature, banging its head against the floor.

'You can punish yourself later, just get on with the ironing,' shouted Narcissa from upstairs. Clearly whatever canoodling Lucius had attempted had not improved her towering rage.

It was another two hours before they were ready to leave. Narcissa was dressed in a beautiful purple dress and a cloak trimmed with white fur. She would have looked stunning if her features hadn't been set into a sullen pout. They went by floo to the London central hub, a hot and bustling hall lined with fireplaces. A wizard carrying a small dragon was arguing with a witch behind a desk marked 'Customs', whilst a group of young people in scruffy robes bent over a map, talking in an incomprehensible language.

Severus looked around in wonder as they crossed from their point of arrival to a large archway labelled 'international connections'. This appeared to lead to a long corridor, painted in the same sterile white, brightly lit by unnatural magical light. A line of uniformed wizards blocked the entrance, and a desk stood at the left end. A long line of downtrodden witches and wizards, laden down with bags, were queued up at it. They had a weary, despairing look. Some were sitting on the floor, surrounded by children and possessions. He noticed some strange items amongst their luggage, kettles and portraits and in one case, a sideboard.

Lucius and Narcissa ignored the queue entirely. Queuing was something that happened to lesser mortals than the Malfoys. But Severus was intrigued. 'Where are they all going?' he wondered aloud to Lucius.

'Mudbloods and blood traitors, trying to get out while they can,' said Narcissa contemptuously, as they sailed past the line. 'But nowhere else wants them. France has closed its borders, so has Belgium. It's really very tiresome. Visiting anywhere in Europe is such a bother these days.'

They were now level with the helpdesk, where a weeping witch was pleading with the official. 'We have gold,' she was sobbing, 'we'll pay our way. My husband speaks a bit of French.'

'I'm sorry Madam, I'm under strict instructions. No more emigrants allowed past this point. Only those who can prove they are short term visitors only.'

'Please, please!' she begged.

He shook his head and his voice was heavy. 'Madam, even if I let you through, the French guards would turn you back. There's nothing I can do. If you must leave the country, I'm sure there are Muggle means of doing so.'

'We don't have papers a Muggle would understand! My children don't exist as far as Muggles are concerned. And if we get to France, we won't be able to work or live in the magic community! Our children couldn't go to a wizard school. We could even be arrested and deported for just using magic, if we got caught! We can't live as Muggles now, we don't know how to!' Her voice was rising higher and louder with hysteria.

'Then you must stay, Madam. Please move along now.'

'What do you suggest we do?' she demanded. 'I've got three children. The Death Eaters could come for them any day!'

The wizard closed his eyes for a moment. 'I suggest you go home and put up protective wards, now move along, please.'

A man rushed past them, throwing himself headlong at the entrance. He was thrown back by an invisible force field, landing heavily. A sort of collective groan went up from the waiting people. A guard appeared and dragged the man away, pushing him towards the exit.

Lucius spoke to a guard. 'Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and our friend Severus Snape, attending the Conference in Vienna.' He flipped out his apparition licence carelessly for inspection.

'Oh, Mr Malfoy, of course, go right on through.' The guard made a movement with his wand and waved them onwards. Severus was a little hesitant about stepping through, but they met with no resistance. After the hurly burly of the hall the corridor was very quiet and calm.

'Someone ought to get rid of them,' Narcissa was saying. 'It's embarrassing, all those dirty stupid people grovelling around. That's the first impression people are getting of our country. No wonder no one wants to visit here anymore.'

On arrival in Paris, they were ushered into a small room by a polite but firm official. Severus gathered, from the huffing Narcissa was doing, that this wasn't usual protocol. They were kept for some time whilst the officials carefully went through their papers. Lucius spoke courteously to the guards in French. He must have answered their questions to their satisfaction, because eventually they were allowed to go on, via Munich, to Vienna.

Severus had never left the UK, so had to try very hard not to gawp foolishly as they arrived in Vienna. With its wide streets and grand buildings with verdigrised copper domes, it was at once alike and different from London. Like London, there was a whole wizard area of the city, hidden from Muggle eyes and technologies by magic.

Seeing it made him realise just how badly wizard London had deteriorated since he'd first visited there as an excited eleven year old. Just like Diagon had once had, there were brightly decorated shops, cobbled streets, and witches and wizards everywhere, talking and laughing. He felt a pang of sorrow for the drab, fear filled place their country had become.

The sight of so many shops seemed to cheer Narcissa up, and as soon as they'd checked into the hotel and unpacked, she joined up with some other witches she knew and headed out for a full exploration, carrying a moneybag containing more than Severus earned in a month. Lucius insisted on taking Severus to the bar, to meet some of his contacts.

Severus watched his friend moving round the room, full of casual confidence. Whilst he knew that the sort of contact base Lucius had took work, no matter who you were, he couldn't help feeling resentment towards the social ease Malfoy had. There was no way you could learn that, it was just a gift possessed by a lucky few. Severus had the reverse ability, a talent for making any conversation as awkward and embarrassing as possible. Sometimes he felt like Lucius was a different species altogether.

For the next three days they fell into a pattern, eating breakfast together in the morning, then going their separate ways. Severus remained unsure of what Narcissa did all day, whilst Lucius 'networked', a vague term that seemed to involve talking to as many people as possible whilst participating in leisure activities. Severus meanwhile sat through lectures, making copious notes, full of wonder and excitement as a whole world of innovation that he'd known nothing about was opened before his eyes. He heard of research into a potion to cure lycanthropy, work to subvert the elemental laws of transfiguration, and even a talk from a crank who was trying to invent a ball-shaped wand.

They met again in the evening for drinks in the bar, though they were seldom alone. Everyone seemed to know Lucius, and Severus found himself introduced to umpteen witches and wizards, with whom he had to make awkward small talk until one of the Malfoys released him. On several occasions he heard Lucius saying, 'Not the sociable type I'm afraid, rather the academic. Quite brilliant, of course.' After drinks, the Malfoys would depart in a cloud of expensive perfume for the evening's busy programme of social events, leaving Severus free to roam the city.

Dressed in non-descript clothes, he explored Vienna, both magic and Muggle. He visited the cathedral, with its roof of patterned tiles, and the grand Hapsburg palaces. He soaked up the wonder of being in a foreign city for the first time - hearing the conversations in German around him, the unfamiliar street signs, the new smells, the atmosphere that was free of the oppression of London.

Perhaps Lucius was right - he had needed a holiday. He certainly felt very sorry on the final day, knowing they'd have to return the following morning. But before that they had to get through the main event of the Conference - the Grand Ball. As far as Narcissa was concerned, this was the reason they'd come, with everything else a mere diversion. She had talked about little else since they'd got there, and had spent many hours - and no doubt a small fortune - on choosing a suitable dress for the occasion.

That morning at breakfast Narcisssa sounded as though she was planning a military campaign. Severus listened in bemused wonder to the list of appointments and preparations that would go into ensuring she looked her best. Seeing the look on his face, Lucius laughed. 'It's important to make a good impression, you know. What happened with the Pillar has done a lot of damage internationally, and put back our plans by at least a year.'

'But surely Narcissa having a naff hairdo isn't going to make that much difference to what European bigwigs think of us?' asked Severus rather acerbically.

'Oh Severus, you wouldn't understand. It's all about appearances, the subtle art of politics. Anyway, come to our room this afternoon at three pm. There's a matter I need to discuss with you.'

Surprised by this invitation, Severus duly turned up at the appointed hour. Lucius opened the door to the Malfoys' suite, and showed him into the sitting room. Narcissa was standing at the window, her back to them. Her hair was piled up on her head in a gravity defying style.

'So, you've enjoyed the conference?' asked Lucius, whilst he poured them drinks. They had access to a hotel elf, but some bizarre quirk in Lucius' personal code deemed that the preparation of alcoholic drinks was a job permitted for wizards, at least when staying abroad.

'It's been great,' enthused Severus at once. 'The Japanese have some incredible ideas about potion making, this morning a chap from their university gave a talk on the Invisibility Potion they're working on - of course, it's thought to be impossible but they have had the idea that if you use a base of...' he trailed away as he realised Lucius didn't want to hear the whole story.

'I'm glad you've enjoyed it. No more thoughts about other wizards' wives, eh? Put all that out of your mind, I hope.'

'Oh yes,' agreed Severus, wishing Lucius hadn't reminded him. He was dreading returning to Britain, and finding that nothing had changed. You could run away from your problems, but they'd still be there when you got back. 'I don't know what came over me, really.'

'Well, I think I've done a good bit of diplomacy, I expect that He will be pleased. Rebuilt a few bridges. Not bad for a few days' work.' He raised his glass. 'To the Dark Lord.'

'To the Dark Lord,' echoed Severus, wishing Lucius hadn't reminded him of that either.

'I have one more task remaining, perhaps my most important yet. A particularly delicate mission, and one which must be carried out in the greatest secrecy. Which is why I plan on doing it tonight.' Lucius sipped his drink, but his eyes remained on Severus.

'But it's the Ball tonight,' pointed out Severus, shooting a quick glance at Narcissa. He had a feeling that she would consider missing the Ball grounds for divorce.

'Precisely. What better alibi could there be than half the great and good of Europe having watched me dancing the night away?' He smiled again, and went to the mantelpiece, where he removed a blue glass bottle. 'Polyjuice.'

Realisation dawned. 'You want me to carry out this mission, pretending to be you.'

Lucius gave a yelp of laughter. 'Certainly not! This is a delicate matter requiring the utmost diplomacy. No, I will carry out the mission, whilst you attend the Ball, pretending to be me.'

'What!' Severus stared at his friend in alarm. Even conducting a delicate diplomatic assignment seemed an easier prospect than passing himself off as Lucius at a ball. 'That's impossible. Have you seen me at a party?'

Now Narcissa spoke, 'Exactly what I said.'

Lucius waved away their concerns. 'Come on, old man, you've been trying to be like me for the last nine years. Here's your chance to do the thing properly.'

Cheeks reddening at this reference to his attempts to ape the older man, Severus turned away with a scowl. 'I can't do it. It won't work. People will never be fooled.'

'So you're willing to go back and tell the Dark Lord that?' said Lucius, voice suddenly hard. 'We don't have a choice about this. So you'd better find a way to make it work.'

Severus insisted on Narcissa leaving the room before taking the polyjuice. He felt her seeing him transform would be tantamount to watching him dress. Finishing off the potion and adding a single long blond hair was easy. It tasted absolutely terrible, and the transformation was agonising. When it was over, he ran his hands over himself wonderingly. He was quite familiar with Lucius' body, but it was bizarre to suddenly be in it. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he gasped, shocked to see Lucius' cold grey eyes staring back at him.

Even Lucius seemed a little disturbed by this clone of himself, examining it critically. He spent a long time reviewing it from behind - Severus suspected he was assessing the appearance of his hair. Fed up of this, he rebottled up the rest of the potion, which should be just enough to last the evening. He put Lucius' watch on, and made careful note of the time. 'Just don't forget to take it, whatever you do,' Malfoy cautioned him.

'Do you think I'm stupid?' he snapped back, stripping down to his underwear and putting on the dress robes that Lucius had laid out ready. His friend fussed around him, fastening his hair just so, tweaking the robes so that they lay correctly across his chest. Their wands were similar enough in appearance to keep their own, but Severus would keep it out of sight just in case. Narcissa was called back in, and she did a double take at the sight of them.

Severus stepped forward, concentrating on his posture, the way he held his head. 'Well, Cissy, do you think he'll pass?' he asked, in his very best imitation of Lucius' clipped tones. It was easier to do with Lucius' own body, his own vocal chords.

Narcissa looked Lucius up and down. 'He looks all right, but the moment he opens his mouth he'll give the game away,' she said eventually, causing both Luciuses to collapse in gales of laughter. She did not see the funny side, and her face became even tenser. Severus could tell she was furious.

They spent the rest of the time practising dancing. Severus was not very good, although the muscle memory of Lucius' body helped. He found he did better when he didn't think too much about it, allowing his body to do the work. Narcissa pinched and prodded him painfully, a certain satisfaction in her face. She was going to make sure he suffered throughout the evening. Lucius gave him some last instructions, and then Severus took Narcissa's hand and stepped out into the world as Lucius Malfoy.

He had to hand it to Narcissa, she was a consummate professional when it came to presenting a face to the world. Her smile was in place the moment they left the room, and her fingers twined around his. They made their way to the ballroom, and accepted delicate flutes of champagne. A beefy wizard in spangled dress robes immediately waylaid them and began to talk earnestly about pumpkin futures, but Narcissa stopped him with a hand on the arm and a tinkly laugh. 'Now, now, Ebenezer, Lucius has promised me that he won't start talking business tonight. We're going to dance and have a nice time and not let silly old business get in the way.'

Severus gave a patronising smile and a look which he hoped conveyed weary agreement to this fancy of his wife's. Ebenezer laughed heartily and said, 'Of course, my dear. Better do what your lovely wife says now, Lucius!'

On the dance floor, they fell into a waltz, Narcissa steering. Her perfect smile never faltered. Occasionally she would lean in, apparently to kiss him, in order to whisper fierce instructions. 'Left heel,' or 'Wizard in a green hat coming up, smile nicely. He's Minister for Magic in Yugoslavia.' It was exhausting, having to focus on every little movement to keep them Lucius-like, whilst simultaneously appearing relaxed and languorous. He was glad to escape to the toilets to every hour to take his polyjuice.

He felt like the evening would never end. Narcissa dragged him round for dance after dance, all of which involved whirling round and exchanging the odd pleasantry with other couples as they spun. At one point Narcissa grabbed him and covered his mouth with her own. He was so stunned that he took a moment before he remembered to act as though this was s normal occurrence. She pulled back eventually, whispering, 'Couldn't let you talk to him, you'd have given yourself away.'

It was with enormous relief that he finally followed Narcissa out, saying some gracious goodbyes, and back to the quiet and peace of the suite. Narcissa slumped onto an armchair, and he took the sofa opposite, closing his eyes. The room still whirled around him. Eventually he said, 'Do you think we fooled them?'

She gave this careful thought. 'I think so. Let's just hope Lew's done what he needs to do.' She got up and went to the window, staring out at the moon. 'I hope he's back soon. I can't stand waiting.'

'Do you want me to leave?' he asked, still very aware of Lucius' body around him.

'Stay,' she said, surprising him. 'It might look suspicious otherwise.'

He sighed and closed his eyes again, hoping Lucius hurried up. He didn't have the energy to make small talk with Narcissa. Longing thoughts of the privacy and comfort of his bed kept running through his mind. The ache in his head was growing worse, and suddenly he was overtaken by the painful bubbling sensation of transformation. Pain pushed him to his feet with a gasp, and he gritted his teeth with torment as his skin and bones melded themselves back to their original form.

Finally, it was over and he sat down heavily, his body tingly and aching, the dress robes now hanging loose. Sensing someone next to him, he looked up to see Narcissa, holding out a glass of water awkwardly. 'It looked painful,' she said.

'Thanks.' He sipped the water, wondering if this was Narcissa's idea of a remedy. Or perhaps a peace gesture.

'I was so looking forward to tonight,' she said wistfully, wandering back to the window.

'I'm sorry,' he said, rather tetchily.

'You did your best. You weren't any happier about it than I was. I might have known Lucius had an ulterior motive for bringing you.' She sighed again and traced the outline of the moon on the window pane with her finger. Suddenly she said, 'Everything gets taken over by some mission or other, these days. All the time he's a... you-know-what, he'll have to put that first, and he's never going to be able to stop being a you-know-what.'

There wasn't really an answer to that, so he didn't give one. After a while Narcissa said, 'Why did you do it?'

'Do what?'

She made an impatient noise as though he was being deliberately obtuse. 'Try to kill yourself, of course.'

'I didn't try to kill myself. For the fiftieth time, it was an accident.'

'Yeah.' She laughed mirthlessly, then turned to look at him. 'Was it because of Him? Because of being a you-know-what?'

He stared at her. 'Why would it be to do with that?'

'I don't know!' she snapped. 'Why else would it be? You tell me.'

'I just told you, I didn't try to kill myself. I was experimenting with a potion, I got overconfident, and accidentally poisoned myself. It had nothing to do with being a Death Eater.' Sometimes he wondered if Narcissa and he actually lived on the same planet.

'Fine!' she responded huffily, turning back to the window. 'I just hope next time you want to 'experiment' you consider first what it was like for Lucius, finding you like that. You know he's the only other person who can get into that flat. I'm sure you were only thinking about the dramatic effect you'd have - oh sorry, I mean, your 'experiment'. But if you've got any ability to empathise at all - which I doubt - then just imagine how it feels to find your best friend that close to death, and then torturing yourself wondering what drove him to do it.'

'I didn't try to kill myself!' snarled Severus.

'Fine, have it your way. Just remember what I said, Snape. I don't like seeing Lucius hurt, and if you do that to him again - whether on purpose or not - I'll find a way to make you suffer. Believe me, I can and I will.'

He stared at her hard blue eyes and knew she meant it. 'I believe you entirely,' he replied honestly.

They remained in an uncomfortable silence until the door opened, and Narcissa jumped up to greet her husband. 'I'm fine, I'm fine,' said Lucius, patting her vaguely and looking past her to Severus. 'What's the matter? Did something go wrong?'

'No, it was fine. I don't think anyone knew. What about you?'

'Very successful,' said Lucius smugly. 'He will be pleased - with us both, of course,' he added, although Severus doubted that ensuring he got equal credit would be top of Lucius' priority list.

'I should be getting back to my room,' said Severus, rising quickly. 'I'll have to hope no one sees me.'

'I wouldn't worry about that. You can always say you were packing our trunks for us. They'll be too busy wondering if there's some sort of romantic entanglement involved to guess the truth.' Lucius grinned at the noises of horror from both Severus and Narcissa. 'See you at breakfast, old bean.'

The next day was taken up with travelling back. As they made their way out of the floo hub in London, past the line of refugees, Severus saw a flash of red hair and did a double take. His mind was instantly filled with images of Lily, even though he realised immediately the woman was nothing like her. His heart sank. Nothing had changed.