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Description
Janie waited at the window, gazing out through the sun streaked afternoon. Usually the neighborhood suffered the same gray overcast weather as the rest of England, but today everything was bathed in gold.

She was wearing a plain white shirt over her pale yellow skirt, sandaled feet almost toe-to-toe with the wall as she watched, wondering if he would even show up—and, if he did, he would even be sober? Her pale blue eyes scanned the street, trying not to get her hopes up, even though she knew she would be disappointed if he didn't come.

Janie went out to the porch, sitting on the steps, and stretching her legs to the sun. Her hair—the hair every little girl who saw her thanked God they didn't have—was pulled tightly behind her head, the pony tail a mass of wiry brown curls. A smattering of freckles crossed her nose. Once upon a time, before she was twenty six, those freckles might have been considered cute. Now they were just a nuisance.

Janie watched the little children playing across the street at the park, and rested her chin in her hands. He'd promised he would come… but she wasn't sure that meant anything anymore.

We've all got a past
and these ghosts are holding us back
I listened to your message over and over again,
thought about how I let you down,
thought about who I am

It was Lily who had introduced them, all those years ago. Lily, who went to that mysterious boarding school, who never told her anything about that school. Janie had stopped caring for Lily a long time ago.

It had been easier.

But somehow her friend, Lily's vastly unpleasant friend, had still fascinated her. Janie had still looked for Severus. She liked the way he talked, the way he wouldn't let anyone count him for being weak. And he didn't let anyone catch him up in the silly drama of school. Even though Janie only saw him three months every year, she was very fond of him.

Her parents, of course, had been less than comfortable with Janie's friendship with Severus. They didn't like that he lived at Spinner's End, or that he told Janie so much about his parents, who were always fighting. He always seemed to be able to tell Janie these things—Lily complained that he told Janie more than he ever told her, but Janie knew what he meant when he talked about his parents' fights. Her parents only pretended everything was fine, in their nice suburban home.

Janie knew better.

She also knew better when Severus insisted he was fine. Lily didn't. That was why Janie always knew more—she could ferret out a lie quicker than he could give them.

There were some things, though, where she wished he'd kept lying to her.

She sighed and leaned against the railing of her porch. The children in the park were screaming, but joyfully. She wished, in some ways, it could have been like that for her.

I felt hopeless, I got caught up in this life
I'm such a mess,
I wonder how I look through your eyes
We've all got a past

She learned so much—so much about a world she'd never even guessed existed—from Severus. He opened a door that, once open, could never be shut again. Janie supposed she had loved him for that, too.

And she had had her own share of things to teach him.

The long nights spent alone, the whispered words through the darkness… scarcely anything to what had happened in daylight. It was only for her that he would put on his best face, he said so himself, and it was only for her that Severus would pretend he was happy even when he wasn't. Janie knew very well that she was the bright spot in his life, without needing to be told, or any reason to doubt.

But would he remember that himself? Janie had begun to get the feeling that Severus had forgotten her name, let alone everything she'd ever done for him.

One summer afternoon, when they were out by the lake he'd asked her if she loved him. "Of course I do," was her reply, surprised that he'd even asked. Janie supposed she'd always thought it was obvious. They were fifteen, then.

Things, even then, were never simple. Lily avoided Severus, and no one would tell Janie why. Severus got quiet whenever she asked, and Lily would just say that he was arrogant and rude and he could suffer on his own if he well pleased.

"But if you're going to hang out with him," Lily warned, "I'm not going to have anything to do with you, either."

For Janie, the choice had been easy. She no longer particularly cared about Lily, whereas Severus… well, she didn't think she could bear the summers without him. He didn't make fun of her rat's nest of hair, or her freckles, or the fact that she was too skinny and gangly for her own good. He just liked to talk to her.

Or he did once, anyway.

Baby, take your time
stop and see for once in your life
the things you're missing out on

"Mummy?"

Janie turned, looking at the little girl behind her in the doorway. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Daddy's gonna come home soon." The little girl shuffled her bare feet—she was always taking off her shoes—and looked shyly at Janie. "He's not coming, is he?"

Janie knew what she meant. These visits—they had been their little secret for quite a while. Yet they had grown more and more infrequent. Severus thought that she had betrayed him. "Hermione," Janie called, "Come here."

Five-year-old Hermione walked across to her mother, who pulled her into her lap and hugged her. "Do you want to go to the park?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mummy."

"Best go get your shoes on, then," Janie said, giving her daughter a little push toward the door. "Can't go if you're barefoot."

As her daughter went to put on her shoes, Janie looked back out across the street. He was nowhere to be seen, and he wouldn't dare show up while her husband was home. She sighed, and went to make sure her daughter was putting on her shoes.

It hadn't been in her plan to get married—and had it been, her fist choice would have been Severus. She loved her husband, yes, but… not in the way she loved Severus.

Perhaps that was why he wasn't there—because of her marriage.

That night she went out with some friends for drinks. They sat next to a window, and as she sipped at her martini, Janie watched the window, wondering.

Had he forgotten her? Janie couldn't bring herself to believe that he had.

Was he avoiding her? Somehow she suspected he was.

I look out on the city lights,
wonder where you are tonight

"I'm going out for a breather," she told her friends. She stepped out into the cool night air and sighed, looking skyward. There were no stars in town. Too much light.

In the morning she'd go back to her job as a dental hygienist, and it would be as if all of yesterday's waiting had been for nothing. There would be no Severus—as far as her husband and friends were concerned no such man existed. The less they knew, the better, Janie thought.

A voice startled her from her thoughts. "I didn't think I would be so late."

She turned sharply. He was wearing clothes that were as muggle as he could bear—the effect being that he looked as though he had just come from the office. Severus gazed at her a moment, and then at his feet. "Why do you even bother anymore?" he asked in a low voice.

Her voice caught in her throat, and had a harsh edge. "Is it such a crime to want to see my friend?"

The look he gave her was dark. "A friend you will never tell your other friends about. A friend you keep a secret. I must mean something to you," he said caustically.

Janie rubbed at her eyes. "I miss you," she whispered.

So much that I want to say
Will you ever let me?
And if I pour my heart out,
do you want the truth?
Yeah, I pour my heart out
I at least owe that to you

"You miss me," Severus spat mockingly. "Do you miss me when you're at home f***ing your husband?"

It wasn't fair of him to say that. He didn't understand—she'd gone through too much already. Her daughter had needed a home. Her husband had provided that. "Stop it," she said quietly.

He was the only man in the world who would listen to that command, but he would only listen to it from her. He glared off into the night, his hands in his pockets. Janie gazed wistfully at him, wishing he'd smile just once for her, and knowing at the same time that she didn't deserve it.

"I didn't think you were going to come," she said, hugging herself against the chill of the night.

"Neither did I," he replied crisply. "I didn't want to see her."

Hermione. He meant Hermione. Janie bristled. "Why must you refuse to believe me?" she hissed. "I told you the truth, Severus."

"What makes you think the truth means anything anymore?" he asked coldly. His eyes cut through her, slicing her to the bone. Janie wanted to weep, but she refused to do so. She knew Severus hated weakness.

"Don't you ever miss me?" she asked.

Severus looked away, and didn't answer. Somehow, that hurt the most.

Baby, take your time
stop and see for once in your life
the things you're missing out on
Like me, like me and the sunshine
The summer's almost over,
we're running out of time

"Why did you even bother to come then?" Janie cried. "If you don't care anymore, why are you here, Severus?"

The look her gave her chilled her to the bone. "Because I wanted to say goodbye," he replied flatly. There was no emotion in his voice, in his eyes.

He was dead walking.

Janie's voice stuck in her throat, unable to voice a reply. Tears trickled down her cheeks, against her will.

Was this what she had waited for? For this they had spent five years with no more than touch and go, a word or two whispered between the times he disappeared? Just so that he could toss her away like a child's unwanted plaything?

I at least owe that to you
Open up your eyes,
I'm right in front of you
There's so much I have to say,
will you ever let me?

Finally, she found her voice again. "W-what?" she whispered.

"I can't go on with this," he said, gesturing in the air. "You're a married woman, for god's sake, and you obviously have no intention of leaving your husband." His tone was cold, logical. This was not the Severus she knew. He has clamped down on all his emotions with teeth of ice, and he was not going to let them show.

Janie forced herself to breathe, and looked him in the eye. "So this is it," she whispered, "This is how you're going to get rid of me—without even so much as a kind word to the girl you fathered. Because you don't want to see her."

"She's not my—"

"She is your daughter, she is!" Janie shouted. "You're just too stupid to see it." Janie wiped her tears away furiously. "And now you're going to give me an ultimatum, just like Lily did! Choose one or the other. Decide your life on someone else's foolish pride."

Severus was silent a moment, his face yellow in the glow of the neon lights of the pub. "As I recall," he said quietly, "You did make a choice back then."

"And I won't do it again," Janie snapped. "I've made too many decisions that can't be undone, and now you'd have me leave behind this life I've made for myself for your sake—haven't you ever considered that I have others to take care of?" She looked at him ferociously, hurt burning in her breast.

Severus didn't waver. "I am not going to force your hand, Jane. I can only make my own decisions."

Jane. He never called her Jane. It was always Janie.

"So this is goodbye," she whispered.

It's too cold for June
How come I only hear from you when you're liquored up?
I've heard all about the others
and this side of you that you discovered
this summer

Severus left her standing there on the sidewalk. Janie didn't even go back inside—she just hailed a taxicab and went home, crying all the way. She wouldn't tell anyone what had happened, ever. He would never, ever come back.

She knew, she didn't hope for anything. Severus would not come back.

He was final.

She let herself into the house quietly, her eyes still red and puffy. She slipped off her shoes, and padded silently to her daughter's room.

Hermione was fast asleep, and didn't stir as Janie perched on the edge of the bed and stroked her daughter's hair. You'll meet him again someday, she thought bitterly, you'll meet him again, nine months of every year, and I'll be stuck wondering if he ever accepts you.

Silently, Janie rose and returned to the kitchen, pouring a glass of wine. As she looked out the window, a movement caught her eye.

A raven, taking flight. Her last chance.

Time was up.

Twelve years later, Severus's last chance was waiting for him. Seven years he'd let pass without a kind word to that girl, that girl with Janie's hair and his own mother's eyes.

He barely saw her past Potter's shoulder, conjuring the flask that would collect his memories as he lay dying on the floor. This, then, was his last chance. He could tell her the truth, a truth she would neither believe nor accept.

A truth that, at this point, would ruin her life.

Baby, take your time
stop and see for once in your life
the things you're missing out on
Like me, like me and the sunshine
The summer's almost over,
we're running out of time

"She is your daughter, she is," Janie had insisted, begging him to believe her, never knowing that he had, he always had. He just didn't want to.

Twelve years. Twelve wasted years.

Severus fell back, and as the last breath left him, her face was Janie's.

Time was up.

Song: Clocks and Timepieces by Search the City

Description
Janie waited at the window, gazing out through the sun streaked afternoon. Usually the neighborhood suffered the same gray overcast weather as the rest of England, but today everything was bathed in gold.

She was wearing a plain white shirt over her pale yellow skirt, sandaled feet almost toe-to-toe with the wall as she watched, wondering if he would even show up—and, if he did, he would even be sober? Her pale blue eyes scanned the street, trying not to get her hopes up, even though she knew she would be disappointed if he didn't come.

Janie went out to the porch, sitting on the steps, and stretching her legs to the sun. Her hair—the hair every little girl who saw her thanked God they didn't have—was pulled tightly behind her head, the pony tail a mass of wiry brown curls. A smattering of freckles crossed her nose. Once upon a time, before she was twenty six, those freckles might have been considered cute. Now they were just a nuisance.

Janie watched the little children playing across the street at the park, and rested her chin in her hands. He'd promised he would come… but she wasn't sure that meant anything anymore.

We've all got a past
and these ghosts are holding us back
I listened to your message over and over again,
thought about how I let you down,
thought about who I am

It was Lily who had introduced them, all those years ago. Lily, who went to that mysterious boarding school, who never told her anything about that school. Janie had stopped caring for Lily a long time ago.

It had been easier.

But somehow her friend, Lily's vastly unpleasant friend, had still fascinated her. Janie had still looked for Severus. She liked the way he talked, the way he wouldn't let anyone count him for being weak. And he didn't let anyone catch him up in the silly drama of school. Even though Janie only saw him three months every year, she was very fond of him.

Her parents, of course, had been less than comfortable with Janie's friendship with Severus. They didn't like that he lived at Spinner's End, or that he told Janie so much about his parents, who were always fighting. He always seemed to be able to tell Janie these things—Lily complained that he told Janie more than he ever told her, but Janie knew what he meant when he talked about his parents' fights. Her parents only pretended everything was fine, in their nice suburban home.

Janie knew better.

She also knew better when Severus insisted he was fine. Lily didn't. That was why Janie always knew more—she could ferret out a lie quicker than he could give them.

There were some things, though, where she wished he'd kept lying to her.

She sighed and leaned against the railing of her porch. The children in the park were screaming, but joyfully. She wished, in some ways, it could have been like that for her.

I felt hopeless, I got caught up in this life
I'm such a mess,
I wonder how I look through your eyes
We've all got a past

She learned so much—so much about a world she'd never even guessed existed—from Severus. He opened a door that, once open, could never be shut again. Janie supposed she had loved him for that, too.

And she had had her own share of things to teach him.

The long nights spent alone, the whispered words through the darkness… scarcely anything to what had happened in daylight. It was only for her that he would put on his best face, he said so himself, and it was only for her that Severus would pretend he was happy even when he wasn't. Janie knew very well that she was the bright spot in his life, without needing to be told, or any reason to doubt.

But would he remember that himself? Janie had begun to get the feeling that Severus had forgotten her name, let alone everything she'd ever done for him.

One summer afternoon, when they were out by the lake he'd asked her if she loved him. "Of course I do," was her reply, surprised that he'd even asked. Janie supposed she'd always thought it was obvious. They were fifteen, then.

Things, even then, were never simple. Lily avoided Severus, and no one would tell Janie why. Severus got quiet whenever she asked, and Lily would just say that he was arrogant and rude and he could suffer on his own if he well pleased.

"But if you're going to hang out with him," Lily warned, "I'm not going to have anything to do with you, either."

For Janie, the choice had been easy. She no longer particularly cared about Lily, whereas Severus… well, she didn't think she could bear the summers without him. He didn't make fun of her rat's nest of hair, or her freckles, or the fact that she was too skinny and gangly for her own good. He just liked to talk to her.

Or he did once, anyway.

Baby, take your time
stop and see for once in your life
the things you're missing out on

"Mummy?"

Janie turned, looking at the little girl behind her in the doorway. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Daddy's gonna come home soon." The little girl shuffled her bare feet—she was always taking off her shoes—and looked shyly at Janie. "He's not coming, is he?"

Janie knew what she meant. These visits—they had been their little secret for quite a while. Yet they had grown more and more infrequent. Severus thought that she had betrayed him. "Hermione," Janie called, "Come here."

Five-year-old Hermione walked across to her mother, who pulled her into her lap and hugged her. "Do you want to go to the park?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mummy."

"Best go get your shoes on, then," Janie said, giving her daughter a little push toward the door. "Can't go if you're barefoot."

As her daughter went to put on her shoes, Janie looked back out across the street. He was nowhere to be seen, and he wouldn't dare show up while her husband was home. She sighed, and went to make sure her daughter was putting on her shoes.

It hadn't been in her plan to get married—and had it been, her fist choice would have been Severus. She loved her husband, yes, but… not in the way she loved Severus.

Perhaps that was why he wasn't there—because of her marriage.

That night she went out with some friends for drinks. They sat next to a window, and as she sipped at her martini, Janie watched the window, wondering.

Had he forgotten her? Janie couldn't bring herself to believe that he had.

Was he avoiding her? Somehow she suspected he was.

I look out on the city lights,
wonder where you are tonight

"I'm going out for a breather," she told her friends. She stepped out into the cool night air and sighed, looking skyward. There were no stars in town. Too much light.

In the morning she'd go back to her job as a dental hygienist, and it would be as if all of yesterday's waiting had been for nothing. There would be no Severus—as far as her husband and friends were concerned no such man existed. The less they knew, the better, Janie thought.

A voice startled her from her thoughts. "I didn't think I would be so late."

She turned sharply. He was wearing clothes that were as muggle as he could bear—the effect being that he looked as though he had just come from the office. Severus gazed at her a moment, and then at his feet. "Why do you even bother anymore?" he asked in a low voice.

Her voice caught in her throat, and had a harsh edge. "Is it such a crime to want to see my friend?"

The look he gave her was dark. "A friend you will never tell your other friends about. A friend you keep a secret. I must mean something to you," he said caustically.

Janie rubbed at her eyes. "I miss you," she whispered.

So much that I want to say
Will you ever let me?
And if I pour my heart out,
do you want the truth?
Yeah, I pour my heart out
I at least owe that to you

"You miss me," Severus spat mockingly. "Do you miss me when you're at home f***ing your husband?"

It wasn't fair of him to say that. He didn't understand—she'd gone through too much already. Her daughter had needed a home. Her husband had provided that. "Stop it," she said quietly.

He was the only man in the world who would listen to that command, but he would only listen to it from her. He glared off into the night, his hands in his pockets. Janie gazed wistfully at him, wishing he'd smile just once for her, and knowing at the same time that she didn't deserve it.

"I didn't think you were going to come," she said, hugging herself against the chill of the night.

"Neither did I," he replied crisply. "I didn't want to see her."

Hermione. He meant Hermione. Janie bristled. "Why must you refuse to believe me?" she hissed. "I told you the truth, Severus."

"What makes you think the truth means anything anymore?" he asked coldly. His eyes cut through her, slicing her to the bone. Janie wanted to weep, but she refused to do so. She knew Severus hated weakness.

"Don't you ever miss me?" she asked.

Severus looked away, and didn't answer. Somehow, that hurt the most.

Baby, take your time
stop and see for once in your life
the things you're missing out on
Like me, like me and the sunshine
The summer's almost over,
we're running out of time

"Why did you even bother to come then?" Janie cried. "If you don't care anymore, why are you here, Severus?"

The look her gave her chilled her to the bone. "Because I wanted to say goodbye," he replied flatly. There was no emotion in his voice, in his eyes.

He was dead walking.

Janie's voice stuck in her throat, unable to voice a reply. Tears trickled down her cheeks, against her will.

Was this what she had waited for? For this they had spent five years with no more than touch and go, a word or two whispered between the times he disappeared? Just so that he could toss her away like a child's unwanted plaything?

I at least owe that to you
Open up your eyes,
I'm right in front of you
There's so much I have to say,
will you ever let me?

Finally, she found her voice again. "W-what?" she whispered.

"I can't go on with this," he said, gesturing in the air. "You're a married woman, for god's sake, and you obviously have no intention of leaving your husband." His tone was cold, logical. This was not the Severus she knew. He has clamped down on all his emotions with teeth of ice, and he was not going to let them show.

Janie forced herself to breathe, and looked him in the eye. "So this is it," she whispered, "This is how you're going to get rid of me—without even so much as a kind word to the girl you fathered. Because you don't want to see her."

"She's not my—"

"She is your daughter, she is!" Janie shouted. "You're just too stupid to see it." Janie wiped her tears away furiously. "And now you're going to give me an ultimatum, just like Lily did! Choose one or the other. Decide your life on someone else's foolish pride."

Severus was silent a moment, his face yellow in the glow of the neon lights of the pub. "As I recall," he said quietly, "You did make a choice back then."

"And I won't do it again," Janie snapped. "I've made too many decisions that can't be undone, and now you'd have me leave behind this life I've made for myself for your sake—haven't you ever considered that I have others to take care of?" She looked at him ferociously, hurt burning in her breast.

Severus didn't waver. "I am not going to force your hand, Jane. I can only make my own decisions."

Jane. He never called her Jane. It was always Janie.

"So this is goodbye," she whispered.

It's too cold for June
How come I only hear from you when you're liquored up?
I've heard all about the others
and this side of you that you discovered
this summer

Severus left her standing there on the sidewalk. Janie didn't even go back inside—she just hailed a taxicab and went home, crying all the way. She wouldn't tell anyone what had happened, ever. He would never, ever come back.

She knew, she didn't hope for anything. Severus would not come back.

He was final.

She let herself into the house quietly, her eyes still red and puffy. She slipped off her shoes, and padded silently to her daughter's room.

Hermione was fast asleep, and didn't stir as Janie perched on the edge of the bed and stroked her daughter's hair. You'll meet him again someday, she thought bitterly, you'll meet him again, nine months of every year, and I'll be stuck wondering if he ever accepts you.

Silently, Janie rose and returned to the kitchen, pouring a glass of wine. As she looked out the window, a movement caught her eye.

A raven, taking flight. Her last chance.

Time was up.

Twelve years later, Severus's last chance was waiting for him. Seven years he'd let pass without a kind word to that girl, that girl with Janie's hair and his own mother's eyes.

He barely saw her past Potter's shoulder, conjuring the flask that would collect his memories as he lay dying on the floor. This, then, was his last chance. He could tell her the truth, a truth she would neither believe nor accept.

A truth that, at this point, would ruin her life.

Baby, take your time
stop and see for once in your life
the things you're missing out on
Like me, like me and the sunshine
The summer's almost over,
we're running out of time

"She is your daughter, she is," Janie had insisted, begging him to believe her, never knowing that he had, he always had. He just didn't want to.

Twelve years. Twelve wasted years.

Severus fell back, and as the last breath left him, her face was Janie's.

Time was up.

Song: Clocks and Timepieces by Search the City