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Severus Snape paced back and forth, back and forth.

It was cold. The stars twinkled icily above. He could see his own breath frosting mistily in the still air.

The cold didn’t bother him, though.

He was used to it.

His long black robes trailed through the dead leaves, making a rustling noise that was loud in the stillness.

She’d said to meet her here. In the old forest where they’d used to go. They’d gone almost every day, before. Just to talk or to play or to pretend they were knights of old on a great quest to slay a dragon, like the characters out of one of her books.

She never would agree to be the captured princess and wait patiently for him to rescue her.

Once, she’d even persuaded him to be the captured prince and then she’d come along and rescued him, slaying the evil dragon herself.

And that was Lily all over.

Slay the dragon and save the weak, even if they didn’t want to be saved.

The essence of Lily.

He hated the potions recipes that called for essence of lily. It always gave him a strange pain in his chest. It had gotten to the point where he would go searching through dozens of his old books to find a substitute that didn’t require the essence of lily.

He knew all of the ones that called for essence of lily, knew their page numbers and the books they were in. He’d memorised them. He’d made every single one of them when he was younger, just to be able to read those words, the essence of lily, on the old, yellowed pages.

But that had been before...

He’d been a fool to come, he told himself angrily. His robes rustled through the leaves. Potter would never let her come. Not to meet him.

Or, even more likely, it was a trap. Set by Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters who envied him his place at the Dark Lord’s right hand. Or by Dumbledore’s little crackpot tin-soldier brigade, ‘The Order of the Phoenix.’

He sneered bitterly.

Stupid name for a group of stupid people. They had no chance of defeating the Dark Lord and his many legions of followers. They had no chance of even inconveniencing the Dark Lord.

Stupid.

He sneered again.

Really, though, it could be anyone. Everyone seemed to hate him these days. Bellatrix, Lucius, and the rest of his so-called “friends” because he was too powerful and clever. And more still because the Dark Lord had seen this and Severus Snape, in less than a year, had become the Dark Lord’s right-hand man. The Ministry and the rest of the wizarding world hated him because he scared them. He held the power of life and death over them all. The Dark Lord always encouraged his Death Eaters to follow up personal grudges. If you were a favourite, he might even hand you a few werewolves, or a platoon of your fellow mask-wearers.

The Order hated him on principle. He was on the opposing side, the shadow to their light and clearly a terrible, vile person who could not possibly have any goodness in him whatsoever.

Of course, a good portion of the Order had always hated him.

Black and Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew.

‘The Marauders.’ A ridiculous title.

He paced back and forth, back and forth. The dead, withered leaves crunched underfoot.

Even she had hated him in the end.

His robes swished across the icy ground.

Fool. This was obviously a trap. Lily hated him, hadn’t spoken to him for years, had never even contacted him. No notes, no letters, not even a Christmas card. Ever since their fifth year, she’d acted like they’d never known each other.

Like they’d never even met.

And now she had sent him a message and told him to meet her in the middle of the night near their big old oak tree.

She wouldn’t come. It was completely improbably.

Yet he stayed. Pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, wrapped up in his own grim thoughts. Dead, dry leaves crunched under foot and rustled in his wake.

In the star light, the trees glimmered with frost.

He had been a fool to come.

His breath clouded in the icy air. The rustle of his pacing was the only sound.

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, his wand appearing in his hand.

Something had caught his attention, had put him on his guard.

Silence. Not a sound to be heard.

Had he imagined it? No. He never imagined things.

There was someone else out there.

He stood still, frozen, black in the starlight, waiting for a sound. Every bit of him was tense.

For long moments, there was nothing.

Snape didn’t move, standing tense and erect under the stars, in the darkness, not moving, barely breathing.

Waiting.

A light!

A glimmer of light through the trees. Cold and clear.

Then, almost imperceptible, soft, rustling footsteps.

Moving towards him.

The light began moving closer, flickering in and out among the trees.

Only one set of footsteps? Snape’s lip curled.

It was almost insulting how much they’d underestimated him. And for one of them in particular, it would likely be the last mistake they were ever going to make.

Severus Snape was not in a merciful sort of mood.

He turned sharply and walked stealthily toward the giant old oak tree.

Not a leaf rustled with his passing. He almost seemed to glide, hardly touching the ground.

Reaching the great tree, he learned up against the shadowed side and went very, very still. His black cloak merged with the long black shadow of the oak, until he was almost invisible.

The footsteps drew closer, the light growing ever brighter.

Darling Bellatrix and her group of homicidal psychotics wouldn’t underestimate him like this. They knew what he was capable of. And the Ministry was too terrified to send anything less than a full battalion of Aurors for a Death Eater of his caliber.

The Order then. Probably under the influence of Black or Potter. That was how those two remembered him, wasn’t it? Weak.

He could feel his knuckles going white as he tightened his grip on his wand. He bared his teeth.

Please let it be Black.

Just this once, let the tables be turned.

The light came closer and closer, bobbing uncertainly.

It was definitely wand-light. He could almost see the figure behind it now.

Every line of his body was tense, expectant, eager. Like a hound who scents prey.

Nearer and nearer...

He leaned out, dangerously close to the edge of his protective shadow.

Please let it be Black.

He could make out the shape of the figure now, but it was hooded and cloaked and the face was hidden in shadow. All he could make out was a thin white hand, holding the wand-light higher.

Please let it be Black. I want him on his knees in front of me, begging for mercy.

The figure came closer. It was almost to the edge of the little clearing now.

It’s time the tables were turned...

The cloaked figure was at the very edge of the clearing. It paused, its head turning this way and that.

Looking for him.

Cautiously, it stepped forward. Snape noticed something. The figure appeared to be carrying something large held tight against its stomach, but the wand-light wasn’t bright enough to make out what it was.

He moved slightly to get a better look.

The figure stiffened suddenly, its head jerked up to stare into the woods, just a few feet from his left. There was a muffled whisper of “Nox!” and the light went out.

He blinked rapidly to try to restore his night vision, then had to peer around for the hooded figure. Now that the wand-light was out, it seemed to become almost part of the lights and shadows behind it. Like a shadow that had misplaced its tree.

That voice, though. Even at a whisper, it had sounded unexpectedly high. A woman’s voice, then. Not Black.

His face suddenly contorted into a snarl.

Every time. Every time he thought something was going his way. Every time he dared to hope that something good could possibly happen, the universe threw it back in his face.

And there was this person – this woman – who had likely never even seen him before, who was now coming after him to make his life even more of a misery than it already was, who thought she could beat him by herself. She’d probably volunteered. Volunteered to go after the nasty, disgusting Death Eater, volunteered to try to kill a man she’d never met.

How could any of them say that they were better than him?

The figure’s head moved from side to side, still poised and alert. Finally she relaxed, apparently deciding that the danger was past.

Her second mistake. Her first had been showing up.

This mistake though, would very likely be her last.

He considered cursing her from where he stood. It would be an easy shot. She would be dead before she even knew that she was hit.

But that would be too easy. In his present mood, he wasn’t going to let her off so lightly. He wanted to see the fear in her eyes. He wanted her to realise how foolish she’d been to come, how little chance she’d ever had of defeating him. If she begged at his feet for her miserable life, all the better. There was no way in hell that Severus Snape was going to let her keep it.

There would be blood spilled tonight.

There was movement and his head immediately swung around, focussing intently. The figure was reaching for her hood.

Snape leaned forward. He wanted to see her face. See who thought that she could beat him.

And, added the cautious whisper in the back of his mind, see how careful he would have to be.

The figure threw back her hood, sending red hair cascading down her back.

Severus Snape stood completely still, his black eyes wide in his thin, pale face.

“Lily,” he breathed.

Instantly, she stiffened, glancing around. “Severus?” she whispered, staring into the darkness.

Suddenly, he was afraid. Horribly afraid. Afraid to see her again. Afraid to face her.

“Severus?” she whispered again.

Fool. You came here to meet her. And now you’re scared. Scared of what? Of a red-haired girl who used to be your friend. Of a girl who married your enemy.

Fool. Idiot.

Coward.

“Severus? Are you there?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped forward, out of the shadow.

Her wand was up in an instant, pointing straight at his thin chest, a fierce, wild look on her face.

“It’s – it’s me, Lily.”

Curse my quavering voice. He raised his hands in a placating gesture.

His hands were shaking. He could feel it. Hopefully it was too dark to tell.

“Severus.” Her face relaxed into the old happy smile, the one that could light up any dark night as bright as day and make you think the sun had come up early.

He inclined his head. “Yes,” he managed to say. He didn’t want to risk anything longer.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

“I almost didn’t.”

She had nothing to say to that. Then again, what could you say to something like that?

When she finally spoke again, she sounded awkward, uncertain. He couldn’t remember her ever sounding unsure of herself before. “I – I’ll make some light so we can see each other.” She hesitated. “Is that okay?”

He nodded his acquiescence.

He was content, for now, just to watch her, even though each movement brought back old memories. Memories that he’d tried his best to bury. Old memories of when it was always him and her. Just the two of them. Lily and Sev.

She muttered a few words and flicked her wand up, sending a white ball of fire to hover above their heads.

In its soft white light, Snape realised for the first time what Lily had been carrying. Even with his long habit of hiding his emotions, he couldn’t quite contain his surprise and dismay. His black eyes opened wide and his face went white as paper.

Lily saw his expression and laughed, a sound that sent a million memories fluttering behind his eyes.

“Why are you so surprised, Severus? Yes, I’m pregnant. I have been married for almost a year, you know.”

She didn’t have to remind him. When he’d heard the news, read the announcement in the Daily Prophet, it had put a stake through what was left of his torn and blackened heart.

He looked down at the ground, at the dead leaves, brown, dry, and frosted with white. “I know,” he managed to say, almost whispering.

“We’d like to name it after you, if you’re willing.”

He glanced up quickly, his eyes wide again. Of all the words he had expected to hear, those were not them.

“I’ve persuaded James,” she said. “He’s fine with it. Well, sort of fine.”

“No.”

“Severus—”

“No. Severus is no sort of name for a child.” He could feel his mouth setting back into its familiar harsh lines, strict and severe. He couldn’t allow that inheritance to pass to Lily’s child.

“Tobias, then.”

He flinched, as if struck. “No,” he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “Absolutely not.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her swollen belly. It looked like some sort of unnatural growth. His Lily had always been willow-thin.

But then he saw the way that she smiled.

“Come on, Severus,” she was saying. “Come and meet the baby.” She patted her stomach.

He shook his head. He was afraid to touch it now. Afraid that he would somehow poison the innocent new life in his Lily, if he touched her, with his red-stained hands and his black heart.

She sighed. “Oh, come on!” She grabbed his long-fingered hand – he had to stop himself from panicking and jerking backwards – and guided it to rest on her stomach.

For a moment, they stood like that, neither one moving. Finally, he glanced up at her.

“Wait,” she said, smiling mysteriously.

He did.

Minutes passed. Then he felt it, a fluttering kick.

He snatched his hand away and Lily laughed, a cool, clear, alive sound.

“He likes you.”

“Really?” he asked, then cursed his voice for sounding so eager. Like a five-year-old promised a new toy.

She smiled at him and took his hand again, placing it on her stomach. But this time, she left her hand pressed over his.

“Really.”

It was her proud expression that did it. Her proud expression as she looked down at the tiny life growing inside of her. Her baby.

Potter’s baby.

He pulled his hand away and took a step back.

She looked up at him with her green eyes, her brow furrowed, not so much hurt as confused.

She didn’t know, then.

He wasn’t sure whether to be glad and grateful, or disappointed.

“No,” he said again. “It wouldn’t like me.”

Her eyebrows came together and she looked for a moment like she might cry. “Oh, Severus –” she said, reaching out towards him.

“No,” he repeated, taking another step backwards, flinching away from her touch.

Now she looked hurt. Her hand fell back to her side, the other still resting on her stomach. Protecting the baby. Potter’s child.

He straightened, drawing himself up to his full height, composing himself, re-establishing the distance and the aloofness that he’d painstakingly created. “Now,” he said, his voice completely expressionless, “why are you really here?”

“Severus –”

“You wouldn’t ask me to meet you in the middle of the night in the old forest unless there was a very good reason for it. You’re not a fool. And these are dangerous times.”

Lily sighed. This time the sound was full of sadness. “I don’t...” she trailed off, then tried again. “I didn’t...”

Snape stood there, staring at her implacably.

“It – It’s hard to explain,” she said finally.

Snape didn’t move. He was quite prepared to stand there, radiating disapproval, until he got his answer.

She looked up at him, all green eyes and white skin, but still with that scattering of freckles across her nose. And she tried to smile.

He had to look away. The sadness in that smile caused him more pain than all the tears in the world could have. It made his chest ache.

“I never really hated you, you know.”

His head shot up to stare at her pale face, all pretence of unconcern forgotten. “What?”

She took a deep breath, her face very pale in the darkness. “I never really hated you,” she repeated, “and I’m so sorry that you ever thought I did.”

“You’re telling me this now?” he said roughly, looking back at the ground, his long black hair falling forward to hide his face.

There was silence for a moment

“I’m sorry, Sev...” she whispered.

Sev...

It was this tiny thing, this reversion to a childhood nickname, that broke a hole in his shell big enough for him to ask, “If you didn’t hate me then why—?” He swallowed. Perhaps he couldn’t do it after all. “Why did you—?”

“Why did I act like it?”

His eyes met hers and he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

She sighed again, and, for the first time, it was she who looked away, staring at the ground.

“I was a fool,” she said. “When you called me...” She hesitated.

Snape winced. The shout of “Mudblood!” echoed in his ears.

“...that name, I realised that you were already more than half-way to being someone who considered bloodlines more importance than cleverness or bravery or loyalty. I didn’t like the person you were turning into, Sev. It—”

She put her hand on her belly, as if hoping to gain comfort from the tiny life inside.

“It scared me, Sev. That you would say something like that to your best friend.”

Snape had to stop himself from flinching backwards at the raw pain in her voice.

“I... I was a fool,” she said again, “I thought I could bring you back. I thought that if I left you, you would realise how far you’d gone.” She took a deep shuddering breath. “I knew how much you cared about me—”

Snape grimaced. Had his feelings really been that obvious?

“I hoped that you would come back for my sake. That you would... I don’t know, shape up, stop practicing curses and studying those creepy old books. I thought I could stop you from becoming a Death Eater.”

Snape’s hand involuntarily jerked toward his left forearm. Lily’s green eyes caught the motion, and he managed to turn it into pulling his white shirt cuff straight.

“And then?” His voice sounded rough, angry.

Lily looked hurt for a moment, and he had to bite back the words, ‘I’m sorry.’

If only those two words still had the power to fix everything, like they had when he and Lily had been little. Best friends.

I’m sorry.

“It took me far too long to realise that I’d made a mistake. That I, my friendship, was probably the only thing keeping you from going even darker. You’d only held off that long because you’d wanted me to think well of you.”

Snape scowled. It hurt, more than he’d expected, to hear all his childish motives laid bare, to realise she’d known them all this time.

“And by then it was too late.” She was still avoiding his gaze. “I – I wanted to be friends again—I’d always wanted to be friends again—but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how. You’d changed, Sev.”

Her eyes looked into his again for a brief instant and, for that moment, he saw the hurt bewilderment in them.

“In that short time, you’d changed. And I didn’t... I didn’t know how to... How to...”

“How to change me back?”

“No!” she burst out, stung by his tone. Her green eyes fastened on his face again.
He raised an eyebrow.

Finally, she looked away, her face going a light shade of pink. “Well, I suppose that was part of it.”

Snape rolled his eyes and made a soft sound of disgust.

“But it was more than that! It was like you were a completely different person. A person I didn’t know. A person I didn’t really like. A... a frightening person. Someone I didn’t really know how to be friends with.”

He folded his arms tightly across his chest. A barrier between him and her words. He didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t want to remember how much it had hurt.

Then she looked up at him and her eyes were bright with tears. “I’m so sorry, Sev,” she sobbed.

Before he’d had time to think about what he was doing, he’d held out his arms to her and she’d flung herself at him, like when he’d found her crying after Petunia had called her a freak one too many times, and he was holding her and she was clinging to him like she would never let go.

And they stood like that, under the stars, until her tears were done and her body no longer shook with sobbing.

She looked up at him, her face will wet with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, still sniffling.

He gave her his old half-smile. “Don’t be.”

And she gently pulled away and he let her go, because he knew he had no right to keep her. Only then did he realise that he’d been awkwardly bending down to hug her—had she really always been this short?—trying to lean around her protruding stomach.

James Potter had always been the wedge between them. Now it was his son.

“We could name him Harry.”

“What?” he asked, thrown off by the transition.

“You had an uncle named Harry. I met him once. You said that he was the only relative you had that you actually liked.”

He hesitated, torn. James Potter’s son. No, Lily’s son. James. Lily. Lily, James.

“That would be fine,” he said finally. His voice sounded husky. “He cleared his throat. “If you want to, that is.”

“That’s settled, then.” She smiled her blazing smile. “Harry.”

Silence fell between them. Neither wanted to go. But neither knew what to say.

Lily glanced at the sky, absently rubbing her belly. Snape stared at the ground.

“I know you got it.”

Snape jerked back, caught off guard. “I’ve – I’ve got what?”

“The Mark.”

His hand reached automatically for his left forearm. It had hurt. It had hurt more than any physical pain he’d ever experienced before. But he hadn’t made a sound.

“You could leave him, you know.”

He just stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

“You-Know-Who. You could leave him.”

“He would kill me,” Snape said flatly.

“Not if you told him that you could spy on Dumbledore for him. That you would offer to be Dumbledore’s spy but really be spying for him all along.” Her face was lit up with excitement. “Not if you told him that you had gained my trust and had access to the Order.”

“You’re part of the Order of the Phoenix?!”

She looked surprised at his tone. “Yes. Why?”

“It’s too dangerous! You simply can’t risk your life like that!”

She stiffened, straightening to her full height and sticking her chin up in the air. “I don’t need your permission, Severus Snape!”

“Think about—” He couldn’t quite bring himself to call it ‘Harry’ “—the baby! What do you think it will do to it—him!—growing up without a mother?”

“It’s for him I’m doing it!”

He took a step back. “What?”

She was blazing with indignation now. His old, fiery Lily.

“Do you think I want him growing up in a world like this? Where there are lies and fear and you could come home any day to find the Mark hanging over your house and your family all dead and not even know why? Do you think I want him growing up afraid all the time?”

There was a ringing silence.

“No,” he said finally, looking down so his hair fell to hid his face. “I suppose you don’t.”

And she melted back to being a girl under the stars. “Please come, Sev.”

Please...

She wanted him to come. Lily wanted him to come with her. His heart beat out joy, pounding it through his veins. He felt warm for the first time he could remember.

But then sanity returned and the joy vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving his heart withered and dry and empty. The eternal chill returned.

In his mind’s eye he saw Black’s sneers, Lupin’s mistrustful gaze, and heard Pettigrew’s sniggers. And the suspicious, watchful eyes that would be everywhere.

They would never really accept him. None of them.

And he would have to see her with Potter. The mere thought made him feel sick with fury.

“No,” he said.

“Sev...”

She sounded so sad and worried.

He hardened his heart.

“No. You’ve chosen your path. I’ve chosen mine.”

Lily opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Even she knew there was nothing left to say.

He turned to go. Then he stopped and half-turned back. “And you shouldn’t have told me that you were in the Order. That was stupid and dangerous. If I told the Dark Lord, you and Potter would both be dead by morning.”

She straightened. “I trust you, Severus.”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” he snapped. “Goodbye, Lily.”

He turned away again.

“Sev?”

He looked back.

She seemed so small and alone. Like the young girl she’d been when he’d first met her. The girl who had been worried that she was a freak.

“If – if you ever change your mind...” she said hesitantly.

“I won’t.” He was already back in his cold, implacable persona. As emotionless as the bone-white mask hidden inside his robes.

“But if you do,” she persisted, “go to Dumbledore. He’ll be able to help.”

He stared at her a moment, then nodded once. “Thank you.”

“Severus?”

He turned back again, carefully keeping his face expressionless. “Yes?”

Then her arms were around him and her blazing red hair was all he could see.

He stood stock still for a moment, then put his arms around her and held her tight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

He never knew for sure if she’d heard him or not, but he thought she hugged him a little tighter.

Finally, after what seemed like both long hours and mere seconds, she looked up at him.
And her green eyes were full of stars.

“In case we never see each other again,” she said.

And then he felt her warm lips on his cheek.

He froze, afraid to move. Suddenly afraid that his was all a dream.

She pulled away to stand in front of him, proud and tall.

“Goodbye, Severus Snape.”

She turned and walked away, never glancing back. He watched her until she disappeared among the trees.

There was a soft crack.

She was gone.

The black-clad figure stood motionless for a long time. Snow began to fall around him, drifting gently down.

Then, slowly, almost unconsciously, his hand moved to his cheek. As if he was trying to keep Lily’s kiss and the feel of her lips from flying away.

Then he straightened abruptly, gave a brisk nod, turned, and strode away.

He didn’t look back.

There was a sound like a branch breaking. Then all was still.

And that was the last time that Severus Snape ever saw Lily Evans alive.