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Chapter Text

Severus sat in a tufted Georgian chair, in a "study" that could probably fit his entire house. He remembered, once upon a time, how he thought Lily had lived in a mansion the first time he had visited her house. His 10-year-old self would be gobsmacked if he had seen Malfoy Manor. Even now, after five years at Hogwarts, Severus could not help but feel impressed by the sheer grandeur of the place.

He felt very grubby, in his old Muggle clothes, the tell-tale bump just visible. Like some sort of Dickensian waif. The only thing left to complete the picture was for him to get tuberculosis and die. That’s what he’ll do. He’ll get tuberculosis and die. It would solve all his problems. Severus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Lucius sat at his father's desk and just… stared, his eyes glued onto his midsection. Severus could almost see the thoughts twisting through his brain. This sixteen-year-old boy had just thrown a spanner into all of his carefully laid plans. Lucius had been the only one to see his potential. He had coaxed this weird, feral child like one would a stray cat, cleaned him up and made him into something usable. But there was more to it than just what he could do for Lucius, Severus knew. Despite his insistence that he only made the effort because of the half-blood's potion ability, Lucius actually liked the kid. He thought he was funny and interesting and intelligent, something that the easily bored Lucius valued greatly. But despite all that, the truth remained: Snape's brain was his greatest asset, his only asset in the Pureblood world, and what possible use could Lucius get from him now that Severus had to drop out of school to raise some Muggle's bastard spawn?

Lucius leaned forward, his face still carefully blank. "Did you know this could happen?"

Severus shook his head. "Not at the time. I've done some research though."

A small smile bloomed. "Yes, of course you have." But the smile quickly disappeared. "Who's the father?"

"Just a Muggle," Severus said with a casual shrug.

"'Just a Muggle,'" Lucius repeated with a sneer. "You hate Muggles as much as I do. Do you really expect me to believe that you just laid down and spread your legs for some random Muggle and you didn't even ask his name?"

Severus just shrugged again.

Lucius sighed and leaned back in his chair. "The Princes were a very old, very powerful family," he said, and Severus hated when people talked like the Princes were extinct, like he didn't count. Lucius continued, "Even diluted, there is still a lot of power in your blood. I…"

He trailed off, and to Severus's immense curiosity he thought Lucius actually looked embarrassed.

"A child with both Malfoy and Prince blood would be a formidable wizard. A half-blood, yes, but still useful and there are many upstanding Wizarding families that would want to marry their children to such a wizard."

Severus felt thrown. "You want to have a child with me," he said, slowly sounding out the words to make them real. "But… you're married."

"You would be my concubine and afforded all legal protections provided by the Ministry. Any children you bear me cannot be my heirs, but they will be Malfoys and well-provided for."

"And Narcissa?"

Lucius waved away his concerns. "Narcissa is a Pureblood. Her own father had a half-blood concubine."

Severus pressed his hands against his stomach. "And this one?"

There came a scowl and a shrug. "I will pay for any expenses, we can give it to a Wizarding family to be raised–"

"No," Severus spoke out, his voice harsh. "This baby stays with me, or there is no deal."

"I'll have to speak to my father–"

"Then speak to him."

Lucius looked taken aback, but he nodded and stood up, leaving the room. Severus slumped in his chair, the situation catching up to him rapidly now that he didn't have to contend with Lucius. What was he doing? Was he really going to have sex with Lucius, bear him children? He didn't even want the one he had, and now he was going to pop out more on demand like a farm animal?

Before his thoughts could spiral into a dark cloud, Lucius returned with his father, Abraxas Malfoy. The two were very similar in looks, though Mr Malfoy's hair had lightened from pale blond to stark white.

Mr Malfoy took the chair at the desk, while Lucius came to stand behind his father. "So," Mr Malfoy began. "You expect us to not only pay for the little whelp's upbringing, but also to actually care for it?"

"No, I will care for it," Severus insisted. "But I won't have you send it away."

Mr Malfoy made a noise that belied his disgust, but underneath the put-upon act there was clear interest in his eyes. Greed. Severus couldn't say exactly how he knew, but he had always been able to read people's intentions. Who was sincere, and who meant to do harm. And there had been a lot of people in Severus's life who had wanted to do him harm.

A sheaf of parchment and a quill popped out from one of the desk drawers and began to transcribe Mr Malfoy's words. "If you agree to become my son's concubine, you will have access to a suite of rooms in the manor, as well as access to apartments in London and Paris, all living expenses for both you and your children paid for by the Malfoy estate, and an annual allowance of 50,000 galleons a year, plus a bonus of 5,000 galleons per child you bear. The child you carry now may reside with you in your suite, it's living expenses paid, but any extras must be paid by you from either your allowance or other means. That child shall not be allowed to call any of your future children it's siblings, nor will it be allowed to roam the family rooms of the manor. It will be confined to your suite or the serving quarters. Are we in agreement?"

Something was going on. Despite the hostile attitude, Mr Malfoy had capitulated too easily. He wanted Severus to agree, he was even willing to house the bastard child of a Muggle with only a token fight. Well, Severus had always been too curious for his own good. "I want assistance in completing my education and my potion apprenticeship, with all expenses coming from the estate, and an agreement that I will be allowed to work and maintain a separate account," Severus said, eager to see how this demand would be taken.

Mr Malfoy nodded, almost with a hint of approval. "That is easily done. Anything else?"

This would be the real test. "If you or Lucius, or any other Malfoy, tries to harm either me or my children, then the contract is broken. I leave, taking my children with me, and you will not get to see them again."

Mr Malfoy looked archly down on Severus at this. "Do you think us monsters, boy?"

"I've met monsters," he replied. "And if you're as good as you say you won't have anything to fear from agreeing."

He considered it for a moment, and then said, "That is acceptable. Barring self-defense, no one in this family will harm you. Of course, you will be expected to remain faithful to Lucius. Any indiscretions on your part will result in your immediate banishment, while the children you bear Lucius will remain here."

Severus nodded.

"Then if there's nothing else to discuss…?" The quill dropped from where it was floating to land in front of Severus. "Just sign here."

Severus took the quill and scrawled his name across the parchment. He tried not to wonder if he just made the worst decision of his life.

Lucius took him to the family wing, telling him everything that was to be expected of him. "You'll dine in your quarters, not in the dining room. It'd be an insult to Narcissa and her children, you see–" Severus, in fact, didn't see. He thought that the idea of her husband fathering bastards under her roof was insult enough, not whether or not they sat at the same table. "And we'll need to get you a proper wardrobe. We can get any of your personal items from your father's house in the morning."

"I don't have anything," Severus said quickly.

"Nothing at all? Not a memento, nothing of your mother's?"

"No."

"Hmm," Lucius hummed, looking very much like he didn't believe him. "Well, we will still need to visit."

"What?" Severus snapped. "What for? It's got nothing to do with him."

"You're still underage. We need his agreement." Lucius turned and saw the dark, dangerous look on Severus's face. "Enough of that. There are ways of ensuring his cooperation. He's just a Muggle." He stopped in front of a pair of double doors. "Here we are. I went ahead and had the house elves prepare it for you."

Severus reached out and opened the door without hesitation. The room was beautifully furnished. They entered a sitting room that was papered in dark blue silk, with a white marble fireplace, a desk made from black walnut, a velvet-covered sofa with matching chairs, and a chandelier that gleaned like silver. There were vases of peonies scattered across every surface, to mask the dusty, closed-in smell of disused rooms. Someone, the house elves Severus guessed, had opened the grand windows to let the room air out. He could just make out the garden through the fluttering curtains.

He moved on to the next room that held a dining table large enough to sit sixteen people. Severus arched a brow at that. "You're not planning on us having that many children, are you?"

Lucius rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "It's for guests, you wretched commoner."

There was a hall off the dining room, with four doors on either side and one at the end. Three of the rooms were very sparsely furnished, with just a bed, a chest of drawers, and a mirror. All very nice things, nicer than what he had at home, but bare compared to the common rooms. There was a nursery behind the fourth door, which Severus shut very quickly because the sight sent his not-just-morning sickness into gear.

The last door held the master bedroom.

Unlike the other bedrooms, this one was just as beautifully decorated as the sitting room and dining room. Like them, this room was also papered in blue silk and had the same style of heavy furniture of black walnut. There was a wardrobe, a chaise lounge, and a large gilt mirror. The main attraction, of course, was the bed, which looked large enough to eat and consume several other, regularly-sized beds. At least four of them.

Severus cast a glance at Lucius. He thought he had been quick, but Lucius caught the look.

"Don't look too disgusted by the thought," Lucius admonished with another eyeroll.

He had expected Severus to bite back, not to look meekly at the ground with a mumbled, “Sorry.” Severus Snape and meek were not words that belonged together. Severus Snape was a gremlin-child that had crawled out of a coal mine flinging curses. There had been no fear when he sat across Abraxas Malfoy, issuing out his demands, so what had changed? Surely it wasn’t the thought of having sex with Lucius. It wasn’t as though the boy was a virgin, there was evidence enough of that, and if his story was to be believed then he hadn’t even bothered to learn the Muggle’s name before sleeping with the man. It wasn’t Lucius himself, was it? Lucius could admit to himself that the thought of the two of them together was more than a little off-putting. He still thought of Snape as that hungry, bullied first year. Was that all it was?

“You should know,” Lucius began. “I am devoted to Narcissa, in my own way. Our arrangement is a purely practical one. When we lie together, it will be for reproduction, not pleasure. I will not make any demands of you that you have not already agreed to.”

Severus let loose a sigh, his shoulders relaxing from that unnatural stiffness that had creeped into them.

Lucius just stared at him for a second or two before nodding curtly. “I’ll leave you to settle in. Dobby will be by in an hour to bring you supper.”

Severus nodded and watched him leave. Alone, in his new bedroom, gave his rising panic a chance to settle deep into the pit of his stomach. What has he done? He’d been sleeping rough since he arrived home for the summer, only sneaking into the house when he thought his father was gone or asleep. The house was a no-man’s land, the vast stretch of empty, gray battlefields that stood between two trenches. To go into it was asking for trouble, and unlike Hogwarts he couldn’t rain down curses. He had to be careful, he had to be patient, until he was old enough. When he was old enough… he’d kill the bastard. But now all he could do was run; run, or submit. So, he ran, and only a few times had he been forced to submit.

All summer, Severus grew sicker, and he thought it was heat exhaustion and a lack of food. Used to be, he’d go to Lily’s house, but– It wasn’t an option this year. Not since the lake. Not since he destroyed what little was left of their frayed friendship by saying that single, stupid word–

He’d had all the classic symptoms. The vomiting, the exhaustion, the cravings. Then he noticed a definite curve forming in his stomach, which looked out of place on his thin body. The thought had popped into his head – Maybe I’m pregnant – and he’d laughed it off with that gallows humor that had always caught Lily off guard, made her giggle through her own shocked sensibilities. But the thing with magic is that almost anything was possible and terror quickly followed with the thought, oh no, what if I actually am pregnant?

That night, he’d gone back home to dig out his schoolbooks from his trunk while his father snored from his chair downstairs. He quickly learned that– yes, it was possible– almost always done purposefully with a potion or spell– very rarely did it happen spontaneously without either wizard’s knowledge, and that was usually the result of a magical quirk, like metamorphmagi. The chance was slim, but not impossible, and it wasn’t like Severus was able to come up with any other explanation for his symptoms. There were potions that could determine pregnancy, as well as spells, but he didn’t have the ingredients needed and he was still underage and barred from casting magic. He couldn’t go to a doctor – not a Muggle doctor anyway – which meant he’d be left in the dark until he could visit Pomfrey in September. If he was pregnant, he’d guess he was almost three months along. He’d only been caught by his father three times this summer, the first time being the day after he’d gotten home (Hogwarts made him stupid, made him careless) and then twice more almost a month after that. It had to have happened that first time, if he was starting to show already.

Severus was spared the agony of not knowing when he spotted an ad at the drugstore.

ARE YOU PREGNANT?

Every woman has the right to know whether or not she is pregnant. And to know it with the least possible fuss and bother in the least possible time.

Predictor turns the “right to know” into a reality.

Predictor is the new test for the hormone of pregnancy that you do at home, in private, in minutes. You read the results yourself, just two hours later.

The first non-magical home pregnancy test had just arrived on the market. Unfortunately for Severus, it was kept behind the counter and he very much doubted the chemist would sell him one if he asked, even if he did have money, which he didn’t. But he could read up on how it worked in science magazines. He spent the next couple of days loitering around the drugstore, reading, while studiously ignoring the death glares the clerk sent his way. It seemed simple enough to replicate, and he thought he could use the leftover potion ingredients from school as substitutes for some of the chemicals. The others he should be able to buy – or rather, steal – from some stores around town.

It took him a week to perfect it, only working on it at night when he could go home again. He followed the instructions, and waited for the red ring to appear in the test tube.

And there it was.

The red ring.

Severus braced his back against the wall and buried his face in his hands. He was supposed to start school in three days. What was he going to do? He couldn’t go to school pregnant. Black had tried to feed him to a werewolf. Potter almost stripped him naked in public. What would they do to him if they found out he was pregnant? If he was right, if he was three months along, then he was due in February, in the middle of second term. What would happen once the baby was born? He couldn’t leave it at home with his father; if the man didn’t kill it outright with his abuse, it would die from sheer neglect. If it survived long enough to be born. He knew how genetics worked, and being sorted into the house that prized blood purity above all made him well aware of the effects inbreeding could wrought on a child. Goyle being a prime example.

He wanted his mother. He wanted her to tell him what to do, to reassure him that everything was alright. But she left. She abandoned him, and she wasn’t ever coming back.

He remembered, the summer before fifth year (God, what an awful year), finding her standing in the kitchen, her long black hair looking greasy and tangled, but not gray– he’d overheard Mrs Evans complain about that once, saying, well, of course she dyes it. But she didn’t. She just stood there, breakfast only half done, and stared out the window. He’d called out to her, and it wasn’t until he touched her arm that she realized he was standing there. She blinked at him, said, “I’m going out. You be good for your father.”

She didn’t answer when he asked her what time she’d be back. Just pulled her hair into a messy bun and shoved her wand in her pocket. She gave him a last look, and said, “You’ll get by. You’re like me.” She left. And that was that.

Severus was in trouble, and he had no one to turn to. He couldn’t go to his teachers. They had never helped him, not once. Lily didn’t want to see him anymore; his roommates were useless. There was really only one person left.

And, in a way, Lucius hadn’t let him down. He had helped him, but– No, he wasn’t going to think about it anymore. It was done. He’d made his decision. There was no turning back. Severus turned sharply and got onto the bed, determined to take a nap and sleep away the lingering doubts that bubbled just underneath the surface. He was exhausted. All he wanted was a little rest. He laid down on a soft bed, let his head drop on the pillow, and all at once that thrumming of adrenaline that kept him going that summer deserted him and he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Severus woke slowly to the heavy, rich smells of food. His eyes flew open, expecting to see the green curtains and dark stone of the Slytherin dorms. Instead, there was light streaming through an open window and the shrill calls of peacocks. Severus sat up, suddenly remembering that he wasn't at Hogwarts, he was at Malfoy Manor, he was–

Narcissa stepped into view.

He had never seen her look so unkempt. She had always swanned out of the girl's dormitory with her skirt neatly pressed, not a single strand of her blonde hair out of place. But here she was, making herself comfortable at the little breakfast table beside the fireplace, piling sausage and eggs and toast onto her plate, wearing only a pink robe over her nightdress, her hair thrown into a messy braid.

"You slept through supper," she said, apropos of nothing, and cut into her sausage. "It's morning." She waved her knife vaguely at the window.

Severus didn't move. Maybe she was like a cat; her hunting instincts wouldn't trigger if he kept still.

Narcissa rolled her eyes at him. "Stop acting like a scared little rabbit. You're better than that. Come. Sit."

Severus felt rankled at being ordered like a dog, but he obeyed nonetheless. He remembered Narcissa from school, and he wasn't nearly as convinced as Lucius that she would take this whole situation lying down.

"You should eat more," she said as soon as he slid into the chair. "You're skin and bones. It's not healthy for the baby."

His stomach felt cavernous with want of food, but he kept his hands in his lap. He wondered if she had poisoned it.

Narcissa seemed delightfully amused by his caution, and she braced her chin in her hand and smiled at him. "You certainly have an overdeveloped sense of self-preservation."

"I've needed it," he answered back.

"Well, rest assured, you will never need to fear me. I'm not one to cast blame on a desperate, pregnant child for the things done to him." She took a bite of her toast. "My dear father-in-law on the other hand…"

Severus took a small, cautious helping of the sausage in front of him. "Lucius said you wouldn't care if he took a concubine. He said your father–"

Severus didn't finish the sentence because Narcissa smiled again, but this time it looked more like an animal baring its teeth. "My husband made a promise that he would be better than my father. And what does he do? As soon as Abraxas decides you're worth keeping around, Lucius folded like a house of cards."

"But why even bother? I'm a half-blood, this child is more Muggle than Wizarding. It seems to me that the embarrassment would outweigh anything they might gain from me."

Narcissa put her fork down and leaned forward. "That's where you're wrong. Your mother never told you much about your family, did she? Well, let me explain some things. Many old Pureblood families tend to develop extra powers. Salazar Slytherin's descendants were famous for producing parselmouths. The Blacks–" Narcissa gestured to herself. "Have developed a reputation as shapechangers. We've had many metamorphmagi in our family line. Supposedly it's easier for us to become animagi as well, though I've never tried it. Too much hassle, what with needing to get registered. But the Princes… they weren't known for just one thing. They were wildcards. Weather manipulation, illusions, broomless flight… Anything might pop up in a Prince, and not just known magics either, but new abilities. Abilities not seen before." She gestured to his stomach. "That there proves that despite the mud in your blood, there's still the old Prince power in you. And who knows? Maybe fertility isn't your only gift. That's happened before too, in Princes. Multiple gifts."

Severus leaned back, trying to take everything in. "Lucius never said anything about this."

"Of course not. Abraxas doesn't want you getting above your station. He wants to keep you ignorant and easily manageable. The truth is, you've now got a lot of bargaining power and you better learn how to use it if you want to end up more than just a broodmare."

"And I suppose you want to help me with that," Severus mocked.

Narcissa smiled brightly. "Of course. Most wives would be threatened by you. They'll spend their entire lives butting heads with the concubine, too blinded by petty rivalries to notice that the only one who's winning is the husband. Divide and conquer. But we can achieve more if we work together. So, how about it?"

She held out her hand and it only took him a moment to decide. He grasped it, sealing them together as allies, and maybe, eventually, as friends. 

"Excellent! Now hurry and eat. Lucius is taking you to meet with your father."

Just the thought turned his stomach. "Is it necessary? I'll be seventeen in January."

"Of course it's necessary. You're underage, already pregnant, and living in our house. How do you think that looks to others? They're going to think Lucius got you in the family way and is now trying to legitimize it to avoid legal repercussions. Can you imagine the scandal this is going to cause? I wasn't being hyperbolic when I said you had a lot of power. Abraxas is willing to drag his family name in the dirt to chain you to him. So unless you can find whatever gutter your mother has crawled into, you're going to have to deal with your father."

Severus stood in Spinner's End, wearing new clothes and with clean hair, but he still felt small and weak. Lucius wrinkled his nose as he took in the neighborhood. The trash in the gutters, dirty children running wild. The poverty of the people, the hard bitterness in their eyes. 

The sun was bright and despite it being the height of summer, he felt cold. He hadn't even let Lily see where he lived. He wanted no one to know. Oh God, what if Tobias said something? What if Lucius found out that he–

Severus was shaking. His hands felt like ice. He watched Lucius rap against the door with his cane and a minute later the door swung open and there was his father, bleary-eyed and stinking of alcohol.

He scowled when he saw his son and the man with him. "I told you not to bring any freaks to my door."

"Mr Snape," Lucius said in a dark, silky voice. "I have no desire to stay here any longer than necessary. All I need is your signature and I'll be gone."

Tobias stepped back, letting the two of them enter. Severus felt his face heat in embarrassment at the state of the house. Tobias had obviously not bothered to clean. There were old bottles scattered across every surface. One had tipped over and was leaking beer across the floor. What must Lucius think of him?

"What's this about?" Tobias demanded.

"I'm here to take your son as my concubine," Lucius said, his tone casual and unbothered despite the shocked swivel of Tobias's head, convinced he hadn't heard right.

There was something mortifying about Lucius's tone. It wasn't like a man asking his girlfriend's father permission to marry. It was more like a customer walking into a store and demanding an item off of the top shelf. Tobias just stared for a moment or two before turning to look at Severus. Something dark and cruel twisted his mouth and he grunted out a laugh. "Told you that was all you were good for."

"I don't have to be here for this, do I?" Severus asked Lucius, while his gray eyes flickered between father and son in confusion.

"No," he said. "Go collect your belongings. This won't take more than a minute."

Severus hurried up the stairs to the second floor, his feet silent as he unconsciously dodged over the steps that squeaked. At the top of the landing there was a short hallway with only two doors on either end. He went to the one on the left, above the kitchen, and entered what had been his room, though he had hardly slept there since second year.

He could hear Lucius and his father talking from downstairs as he made a slow circle of the room. There was nothing in there, nothing worth keeping. Just some old clothes, and his school supplies. A few books were scattered across the floor, most of them old paperbacks that he had picked up here and there, and a few books he had checked out from the library and never bothered returning. There was one that stood out, however.

A pretty, hardcover edition of Anne of Green Gables. Lily had given it to him to read years ago, before they had gotten their Hogwarts letters. She told him it was her favorite book, because the heroine was smart and feisty and had red hair just like her. Despite their similarities, Severus hadn't liked Anne Shirley one bit. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He could admit it now that he had been horribly jealous of a fictional character. How she, despite her orphaned past and all the problems she caused her adoptive parents, still had people who loved her, cared for her. Severus had kept the book anyway, though. Of course he kept it. Lily had been the one to give it to him.

He grabbed Anne of Green Gables and tucked it under his arm. He was about to creep back downstairs when he stopped and stared at the other door. His parents' bedroom door.

He walked over and pushed at it, peeking through the sliver of a crack as it creaked open. There were more bottles, and Tobias hadn't bothered to close the drawers to the chest after digging out his clothes that morning.

There was a framed picture of his mother on top of the chest of drawers. It was a Muggle picture, so she didn't move. Just stood there, leaning against a fence, her face frozen in a smile. Severus tore his gaze away and focused on the bed, still unmade.

Phantom fingers clutched at his hair, dragging him down the hall and into this bedroom while Severus clawed and kicked. He could feel the blanket twisting in his hands, his nose pressed hard against the mattress while those fingers shoved him down. He couldn't breathe. Every time he tried to lift his head those fingers would just press him back. He was going to suffocate.

Severus was yanked from his memories as flames erupted from the bed. He watched as they danced across the sheets, toward the pillows, consuming everything as tendrils of black smoke curled toward the ceiling. Severus snatched the picture of his mother from the dresser and shoved it into his book before walking back downstairs.

"Ah, good," Lucius said as he tucked away some papers. "We've just finished up. Is that all you're taking?"

Severus nodded. "The house is on fire."

Lucius blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"The house is on fire. Shall we go?"

Lucius grabbed him by the shoulder and apparated away as Tobias screamed obscenities.

The Ministry official did not look very impressed. "Severus Snape cast magic while underage–"

Lucius cut him off. "Severus did no such thing. I was the one who started the fire."

"You? Whatever for?"

"There was a spider," Lucius said.

"So you tried to kill it with fire?"

"I have an irrational fear of spiders and as your records show it was a small fire. Now, please, I am a very busy man. If you have any other questions regarding the incident – or any fines that require payment – I'm sure my father would be glad to assist, but right now we must speak with the registrar."

The official sighed and led them to the registrar's office. A plump, middle-aged witch sat at the desk. She looked startled when Lucius walked up, leading Severus along with one hand braced against his back as if he thought the boy might make a run for it. The alarm grew when Lucius informed her that he was taking Severus as his concubine. She looked like she wanted to protest, but everything was in order. The contract that Severus had agreed to, Tobias's signature signing away his rights as father to Abraxas. She even double-checked to make sure there was no lingering magic clinging to the ink, not a hint of the Imperius curse or anything else that might implicate Lucius Malfoy. As Severus leaned down to sign his name in the registrar's book, the witch whispered, "You don't have to do this. No matter how powerful or rich someone is, you can still say no. No one can force you. It's against the law."

Severus shot the woman a glare and finished scratching out his name. What did she know? Against the law. Lots of things were against the law, and they still kept happening. Severus lived in the real world, not some make-believe fantasy where the good guys always won and the bad guys were punished.

Chapter Text

There was something weird and off-putting about arriving at Hogwarts a week late. He hadn't gone by Hogwarts Express, hadn't ridden on the thestral-drawn carriages, or sat with his classmates in the Grand Hall and watched the first years get sorted or gone over his schedule with Avery.

Instead he woke up around nine o'clock, ate breakfast with Narcissa, got dressed in a set of new robes, and used the portkey Lucius had given him. It felt wrong, like that time he had gone with Lily to Diagon Alley to pick up their books for second year and saw Professor Flitwick just doing his shopping out in the world. Excuse you, he wanted to say, why aren't you at Hogwarts where you belong?

He silently followed Professor McGonagall through the castle. The halls were mostly empty; most of the students were in class. Severus felt self-conscious that he was out of uniform, nevermind that these were the finest clothes he had ever owned, richer than his old, patched school robes.

Lily had to have noticed by now that he wasn't in school anymore. Was she worried about him? Did she even care? He realized with a jolt that she probably knew everything that had happened. Lucius Malfoy taking a concubine would have spread like wildfire through Pureblood circles, and Severus knew for a fact that Narcissa had told Bellatrix. Bellatrix probably would have mentioned it to Regulus, and if Regulus knew Sirius Black knew. Which meant Potter knew. He probably blabbed the whole thing to Lily the first chance he got.

McGonagall led him to the Headmaster's office. He had been there before, but the memory was hazy. It had been after the werewolf attack and his world was covered in fog. He couldn't follow along to what was being said, all he knew was that by the end of the meeting he had somehow sworn to keep Lupin's secret and owed a life debt to Potter.

The gargoyle leapt aside and Severus was escorted through. The office was filled with delicate instruments and gold gadgets that whirled and clinked, and there sat Albus Dumbledore himself looking serene and unruffled in pale blue starry robes. "Ah, Mr Snape, please, have a seat."

Severus took the chair across from the desk, and he couldn't stop the soft sigh as he sat down. He was barely four months along, he really didn't think he should be this tired.

Dumbledore kept the bland, placid smile, but McGonagall looked downright agitated. If she was a cat, her tail would be swishing back and forth in barely restrained energy. She moved to stand beside Dumbledore and her gaze kept flickering down to his midsection, trying to find the bump that was mostly obscured by his new robes.

"How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fine," he said, and then, only half-remembering Narcissa's continuous admonishment of manners, he added, "thank you."

"I am glad to see that you are making an effort to continue your education. When I heard about your circumstance I was worried you would be forced to drop out completely. You were at the top of your class last year in your O.W.L.s. It would be a shame to throw away so much potential."

And because Severus had no idea what to say to all of that, he just repeated, "thanks."

It apparently wasn't the answer Dumbledore was looking for because he simply stared at Severus, as if waiting for something more. Severus stared back at him.

Dumbledore let the smile drop and folded his hands in front of him. "Severus, my boy, I have to ask… are you being forced into this arrangement?"

"Lucius isn't a monster," Severus insisted. "He's not hurting me."

Dumbledore looked gravely at him from above his half-moon spectacles. "Would you know it if he was? I don't think you're aware of the reputation Lucius Malfoy has made since leaving Hogwarts. If you feel trapped, or scared, we can help–"

That sent the flames of anger licking up his throat. Severus couldn't stop himself from snapping. "I told you that I was scared! I told you I needed help! Every single fucking day I was here, I asked for help! And you said I was overreacting, that I was too sensitive! " He took a deep breath, trying to calm the thrumming rage. "I'm doing the best I can. All I want is to get the materials and paperwork I need to study from home. Please."

Dumbledore nodded and spoke no more about his situation. Severus was glad. First the registrar, now the Headmaster. With each horrified look he received, Severus felt more and more like he was walking toward the edge of a cliff. Well, what did they expect him to do? What other options were there? He had begged to be allowed to stay at Hogwarts over the summer his first year and Dumbledore told him no. It wasn't allowed. If he was that unhappy at home then the Ministry could do a welfare check and, if need be, find relatives to place him with. The Princes were all dead, but Severus had met some of his father's relatives and in the case of the Snapes the old saying was true: the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. His cousin Seth was nineteen and Severus was eight when the other boy had pushed him down into the ground behind his uncle's house. He told him to keep quiet and that it wouldn't hurt and he only stopped because his aunt had spotted him from the window, gave it a hard rap with her knuckles and told him to knock it off. Then she had yelled at Severus, told him to stop his crying and to just stay away from Seth if he didn't like it, that it was his own fault for getting caught. That was all the Wizarding World could offer; the Ministry didn't believe in meddling in family affairs or domestic disputes. Otherwise, there was just the Muggle World, which meant either a children's home or foster parents and Severus would rather take the devil he knew than the one he didn't.

He was loaded with study plans, and the names of private tutors; everything he would need to take his N.E.W.T.s in two years. McGonagall led him out of Dumbledore's office and classes must have been let out because he could hear voices below the stairwell. One in particular stood out, a girl's voice crying out, half-chastising, half-laughing, "James!" But before Severus could look, the portkey deposited him back at Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa was sprawled across the sofa in his sitting room, thumbing through his Transfiguration textbook. "Your class load is ridiculous. Why are you bothering with Transfiguration? You don't even like the subject."

"I want to take it," Severus insisted.

"You're just being stubborn. You're pregnant."

"So?"

"Severus, you're going to pop out a baby in a couple months and you pretend like it's just this minor inconvenience. Be realistic, do you really think you can do all this on top of taking care of an infant?"

Severus plucked the book from her hands and set it with his other textbooks. "I'll figure out. It's not a problem."

Narcissa rolled her eyes and sat up. "No one can tell Severus Snape anything," she muttered. "Has to figure it out all by himself. Watch him reinvent the wheel."

Severus was about to give a scathing reply when Dobby appeared. "Master Abraxas wants to see Severus in the study, sir," he said, twisting the end of his pillowcase with his hands. The house elf looked very uncomfortable.

Narcissa stood up to follow him, but Dobby spoke up. "Just Severus, Miss."

Severus threw a glance over his shoulder as he left. Narcissa remained standing by the sofa, her arms crossed, her mouth twisted in a scowl. Abraxas had hardly said more than a handful of words to Severus since he came to live there, other than to remark that Severus had an ugly face and he hoped none of his children inherited his looks.

When Severus arrived he found that Abraxas wasn't alone. There was a man standing next to him, a mediwizard if Severus had to guess from his robes. The chaise lounge from the parlor had been dragged into the study and a white sheet placed on top of it.

"Good, you're here," Abraxas said with hardly a glance in his direction. "Disrobe and get on the chaise."

"What? No!" Severus took a step back, ready to run.

"It's just a routine exam–" the mediwizard began, at the same time Abraxas said, "Don't be difficult, boy. I want to ensure I'm getting my money's worth out of you."

The mediwizard shot Abraxas a glare. "You haven't received any medical attention since your pregnancy started, correct? We need to see how you're progressing. This is obviously going to be different from a standard pregnancy. We can relocate to St. Mungo's if you'd like–"

"No," Abraxas interrupted. "We're Malfoys, and I'll not have the whole of Wizarding London gawking at him."

"Just you," Severus shot back before he could think better of it.

"Watch your tone," Abraxas warned. "All medical examinations will be done here, at home, as it was for my wife and my mother and all the rest of our line."

Severus folded his arms, clutching at his robes. "You can't stay. I won't go through with it if you don't leave."

"Don't you dare think you can order me about, you little slut–!"

Narcissa's words flooded back to him. She told him he had power, well now was as good a time to see if she was right. "Or what? You'll force me? The contract we signed was magically binding. You can't hurt me."

"You also have to fulfill your end of the bargain. If you don't earn your keep, you won't get kept!"

"Fine." Severus brushed back his hair and made toward the door. "I'll go somewhere else. There's always Regulus Black. I'm sure he would take me in."

Abraxas did not call his bluff.

He huffed. "Fine, but I expect a full report," he called to the mediwizard without so much as a glance in Severus's direction as he brushed past.

The mediwizard smiled once he had left. "You don't have to undress completely, we can determine the progression of the pregnancy with a few quick spells, but there is a short physical examination that must be done, so if you will remove everything that you are wearing underneath your robes we can get started."

Severus did as he was told and laid down on the chaise. The mediwizard sat on a chair beside him and slipped his hands underneath his robes. "Part your legs for me," he said and Severus jumped when he felt a gloved hand press against his knee to get him to move into position. He continued his exploration, moving past his cock and balls to press at the space just behind. Severus was stiff as a board; he expected it to hurt, and it did in a way, but the man kept his movements slow and made sure to tell him everything he did beforehand. "Good. Do you feel that? That's where the birth canal will develop. Looks like everything is coming along nicely. Now let's check baby."

He stood up, helped Severus rearrange his robes to his liking and took off his gloves. Then, with a flick of the man's wand, a soft green glow settled over Severus's stomach.

The mediwizard smiled. "Perfect. That's the color we want to see. Your baby is perfect."

Chapter Text

Severus tore through his textbooks, devouring the information with a hunger that alarmed his tutors. Severus Snape was crawling out of his skin. People were dangerous, they couldn’t be trusted, the only person who had ever touched him with kindness was Lily, and everyone else was an enemy, even his own mother. He slept outside when he could, hidden among thickets at the park, in his bedroom at home when he couldn’t, his dresser pushed in front of his door to barricade it, or else he was at Hogwarts, where he drifted off to the sounds of Mulciber telling his friends exactly what he would do if he ever got that Muggleborn girl McDonald alone. But here he was, in his own apartment, in a grand estate, and alone for most of the time. And what was he supposed to do? Just accept that he was safe and go to sleep like a little baby?

His paranoia grew along with his stomach. The vast emptiness of Malfoy Manor stretched out in every single direction, the grounds sprawling until it finally hit a forest that seemed to go on forever. What if he needed to run? How would he get away? He bit at his nails and paced in front of the grand windows that lined his sitting room, watching the peacocks as they fluttered across the snow, their calls shrill and piercing.

There was a part of him, some saner corner of his brain that had somehow come out unscathed after years of abuse, that pointed out he was probably just bored. Abraxas might have his own plans regarding Severus, but that didn’t mean he actually liked the boy. He wanted to see as little as possible of him. Lucius was often away, either maintaining the Malfoys’ interest at the Ministry or at a meeting with certain “friends.” That left Narcissa in charge of actually running the estate and the various charities and businesses the Malfoys were involved in. With nothing to occupy his mind, the dark shadows were given a chance to grow. He felt more and more like a caged animal. He had to get outside. He had to get away.

And if those damned peacocks didn’t shut up, he was going to cook and eat them.

Severus shoved his feet into a pair of boots, not bothering to even attempt to tie them. He had about three weeks left in his pregnancy and his stomach was huge. His feet – and anything else that close to the ground – might as well not exist as far as Severus was concerned. He grabbed his gloves and cloak from his wardrobe and stormed out of his suite, down the grand staircase and through a hidden door behind a tapestry that led to the servants’ entrance, where he could escape into the forest. Narcissa was safely tucked away in the morning room, writing letters, which left Severus free to roam where he pleased. She’d scold him if she knew, which wasn’t the deterrent she seemed to think it was. It only ever made him more determined to do what he wanted. He’d practically raised himself all these years, he didn’t need someone’s misplaced maternal urges trying to parent him now. He was an adult, as of twelve days ago.

He took his wand, and his knife, hoping to find something to harvest for his potions. It didn’t matter what. Just so long as it was something. Something to do, something to distract him. Something not baby related.

The baby in question was demanding his attention more and more lately. He could feel it moving in his stomach, an elbow or a foot pushing against the stretched skin as it turned and shifted, preparing for its eventual birth. The mediwizard had assured him every visit that the pregnancy was progressing just as it should, that the baby was healthy, that the colors his spells cast would have changed if there was anything wrong. But Severus had accepted the fact that this baby would never be normal. It couldn’t be. Something was going to go wrong. Its father was also its grandfather, its mother was also its brother. How could it ever be normal? It was better to accept the fact now, than to get his hopes up.

Severus entered the woods, slipping a little on the snow but always managing to catch himself before he could fall. He started stripping away the white, paper-like bark of a birch tree. Useful for healing potions. His mind started turning to experimentation, at the wintery smell of birch smoke, if he used birch bark as kindling for a cauldron fire could the smoke be infused with a potion’s essence? He barely noticed the pain that crept through his back and hips, pulsing every half hour or so. He was used to pain, especially this pain as of late. Another false contraction. He still had three weeks to go.

He had managed to collect a thick bundle of bark that he kept wrapped up in his cloak when he realized that the pain wasn’t going away. In fact, he was starting to think the hot pulses were coming closer and closer together. Severus clutched at his bundle and started to make the long trek back to the house. A thirty-minute walk took close to an hour, his steps slow and cumbersome through the snow, the pain sometimes stopping him in his tracks, leaving him doubled-over. He’d just reached the steps leading up to the servants’ entrance when his waters broke.

“Dobby!” He screamed and, as if to mock him, the peacocks screamed back at him.

That was the final straw. Rage slammed into him, and he didn’t even think, just cast out a hand and a wave of fire erupted from his fingers, too blinded by pain and anger to even realize that he used neither wand nor incantation. The peacocks scattered as a lash of flame whipped towards them, their feathers singed but no worse for wear.

Dobby appeared just as Severus reached the top step and it didn’t take him more than a second to realize what was happening. With a snap of the house elf’s fingers, he found himself back in his own suite, being guided towards the bed while Dobby tried to wrestle the bark away from him. “Just here, Severus, sir,” he said when Severus stopped in place, his hands clutching the bedpost in a death grip as another contraction ripped through him. He tried to tell himself that this was nothing. He could handle a little pain, but then he felt another tear into his body, and he couldn’t stop the scream from crawling up his throat.

He wasn’t sure exactly when Narcissa and Abraxas showed up with the mediwizard. The mediwizard was trying to help Dobby get him on the bed, but Severus refused to budge. Moving hurt too much. He wanted to stay exactly where he was, thank you very much. Narcissa, beautiful, collected, unflappable Narcissa had tucked herself into a corner and was staring in wide-eyed terror at the scene in front of her, while Abraxas heaved a very put-upon sigh.

“Stop being an unreasonable child. Get on that bed.”

He took a step forward and Severus whipped his head around at him and growled, “Touch me and I’ll bite your face off!” He still had his knife. He thought about grabbing it, but his body had a mind of its own and he felt himself sinking as his legs lost the ability to support his weight.

Magic pulled him back up and for a second he was weightless before he was gently placed on top of the mattress. His cloak was removed, and so were the trousers he wore underneath his robes and his underwear. The mediwizard pushed back his robes and Severus jumped when he felt a hand touch him. He didn’t think, just reacted, his fist swinging back to strike the man only to find it frozen in place. His entire right arm was suspended mid-punch. Severus cast a wild gaze around the room and saw Dobby casting. He always forgot just how powerful house elves really were.

“Well, shit,” the mediwizard said.

“What? What is it?” Narcissa asked, her voice hoarse. She looked pale, almost bloodless.

“I’ve got a foot.”

“What does that mean?”

“The baby is breach, and I think the other foot is still tucked up against its body.” The mediwizard looked up at Severus. “I am very sorry. This is going to hurt.”

“It already does, you idiot–!” Whatever else that might have come out of his mouth, strangled in his throat and died as the pain sucked whatever air was left in his lungs. He could feel the mediwizard reach inside him, into that birth canal that had developed over the course of several months and still felt new and aching. He was doing something, adjusting, and Severus felt something slip out of him, and the mediwizard called out–

“There’s the other leg! Okay, now, we’re going to do little pushes. Gently, gently, we don’t want her arms to get stuck.”

“‘Her?’” Severus asked, but the mediwizard said, “Push!”

Severus did as he was told and pushed. He pushed, and stopped when the mediwizard said to stop, waiting for him to turn the baby, making sure the arms were tucked against the body, and then pushed again. He gave one last push, and finally it was out. He briefly sagged against the headboard, but then there was something small and wet and bloody being placed on his lap and Severus tensed up again. It was the baby. It was his baby. His daughter. She was small and very red and had a funny, wrinkled old man face. He could see a sliver of her eyes as she cracked them open, just to cry and close them again. He clutched at her, worried that she might fall, and checked her over. She looked like a normal baby, but– “What’s wrong with her?”

The mediwizard blinked in confusion. “Nothing.”

“Something is wrong with her.”

“There is nothing wrong with her. She’s perfect in every way.”

Severus held onto her and tried to believe it.

Lucius visited later that night, after his meeting. Severus couldn’t sleep. He had spent all day cataloguing every inch of his baby, memorizing every tiny detail. There was a heart-shaped mark on her knee. Was that a birthmark? Or a bruise? Her eyes were a dark grayish-blue. Would they stay that color, or would they deepen until they were as black as his own eyes? His body was exhausted; the world seemed fuzzy, and out-of-focus, but he couldn’t sleep. What if something happened to her? He needed to be awake.

“You look dead on your feet,” Lucius said as he came into the room.

Severus ignored him. He continued to clutch at the crib, staring down at his daughter.

“Have you thought up a name?” Lucius tried again and sat down at the breakfast table.

“Yes, I’ve got a name.”

“Well, so long as you don’t name her after that mudblood girl, I suppose any name will do.” Lucius didn’t have to elaborate which girl he was referring to. They both knew who he was talking about.

That finally got a reaction from Severus. “Why would you care if I named my baby after Lily? She isn’t yours!”

“But you are! Do you know how humiliating it would be to have my concubine name his firstborn after some mudblood he's obsessed with?”

“I’m not obsessed with her! And I wasn’t going to name her Lily!” Severus lied.

“Oh? Then what are you going to name her?”

Severus scrambled to come up with a new name. “L…eeeee…ah. Leah Anne Snape. Anne with an e.”

“Leah?”

“It’s a good name! It’s Hebrew, I think.”

“It is. It means ‘weary.’”

Oh. Well, then. Too late to change it now. Severus looked down at his daughter, who was a little less wrinkled, and no longer very red and tried out the name. “Leah,” he said. Her tiny fists, raised high near her head, twitched in her sleep. “It’s much better than being named after a star, or a Roman emperor. At least you can’t get any embarrassing nicknames from Leah.”

Lucius sniffed. “I think Roman names are perfectly serviceable. Mine has done me just fine.”

“Sure thing, Luscious.”

"Sometimes you make me regret ever befriending you. Here. Take this. It's to replenish your strength." He pulled out a potion vial and set it on the table. Severus glanced at it but didn't budge from where he was standing. "Well?" Lucius demanded, his voice taking on that impatient, almost whining quality that drove Severus mad sometimes.

"That's a sleep potion."

Lucius sputtered. "What?! I- no it isn't! It's red, not purple!"

"It is. Word of advice, if you want to sneak someone a sleep potion, don't try to dye it. You might get the color right, but the luster will stay the same. Look at the way it shines in the low light. You can't hide that."

"Thank you so much, I'll remember that the next time I go to drug you." Lucius folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "You should drink it, though. You're exhausted."

Severus grunted in reply, and they were silent for a moment, and then Lucius asked, “Why did you ever even like that mudblood girl anyway? She was just like any of the other Gryffindor girls.”

“She isn’t.” Severus smiled, watching as Leah’s eyes moved beneath her lids. She was dreaming. “In fact, she’s a lot like me. In more ways than she’ll ever admit to. Lily can be just as ambitious, and dark, and vicious as me, she just hides it better. Or maybe it’s just because she’s so pretty, that no one wants to admit that someone so beautiful isn’t a perfect angel. Oh, I don’t mean vicious in a bad way. I kind of liked it. I thought it was exciting. Everyone always blamed me when we got into trouble, but really she was the mastermind. I just figured out the how to her what if. We were an amazing team. I often wonder how different our lives would be if she had been sorted into Slytherin.”

“A mudblood in Slytherin?” Lucius scoffed. “They would have broken her.”

Severus’s smile grew wider. “Or instead of James Potter and Sirius Black terrorizing the school, it would have been Lily Evans and Severus Snape.”

Chapter Text

It was amazing the difference two years could make, the thoughts and opinions Lily Evans held sacred at sixteen versus Lily Potter at eighteen. She had made a plan for when she returned to Hogwarts for her sixth year. She was going to prove to Severus Snape that he needed her more than she needed him, she was going to make him sorry for ever saying that hateful word, for choosing the Slytherins over her, that she was fine, she was fine and she didn't need him or his friendship. But she didn't see him at the station, or on the train, or in the Great Hall. And then James told her what had happened, told her that Snape was pregnant and married (except not really, he was a concubine, which was worse).

Well, sixteen-year-old Lily Evans thought with a sniff, trying not to show how much the news had affected her, Sev always made stupid decisions when he was emotional.

The general consensus among the student body was that Lucius Malfoy had knocked Snape up and was now trying to legitimize their relationship. Snape had always hung around Malfoy, at least up until third year when the other boy graduated.

"Though why Malfoy wanted to fuck that greasy dungeon bat when he already had Narcissa Black is anyone's guess."

"The ugly ones are always the most desperate. They'll let you do anything to them," Sirius Black had laughed.

(Lily started poisoning his pumpkin juice with Pimple Potion after that, and she told herself it wasn't because of Snape, it was because Black was a chauvinist pig who deserved it. He spent two months covered in horrible boils before he finally connected it to the juice. Now he was convinced he had a pumpkin allergy.)

Now, at eighteen, Lily had lived a little more, experienced a little more. The world was becoming a dangerous place. There were reports of attacks against Muggles almost every week in the Daily Prophet. Muggleborns were disappearing; some, Lily knew, had fled to Australia, Canada, or the States. Others were just… gone. Sometimes their bodies would turn up. Or parts of them.

Then, a week before graduation, the Headmaster had asked to see her in his office, along with James and Remus and Peter and Black. Voldemort's power and influence was growing every day, Dumbledore explained. The Ministry, that bastion of Pureblood culture, was crawling with Death Eaters and their supporters. It was time to take matters into their own hands. He was building a counter-organization, a secret order to fight Voldemort and he wanted them to be a part of it. They said yes. Of course, they said yes. They were young and idealistic and they wanted to save the world.

It was amazing, the frankly reckless and ill-thought decisions a mind will make when a person is convinced they're going to die. So, when James said, "Let's get married," Lily didn't even hesitate before saying yes. They were going off to war, they were going to die, she was a Muggleborn and she had a target painted on her back. She was never more in love than she was at that moment.

They got married right after graduation. She wore her normal, everyday clothes and marched into the Ministry with James at her side, and didn't once think about the white wedding dresses and orange blossoms she had dreamed about since she was a little girl. She didn't even have her parents with her, or her sister.

It was in the quiet hours, late at night, next to her new husband in their marriage bed, in a richly furnished home paid for by his parents, that it really hit her: she's just a kid. A stupid kid. And she had felt so grown-up, so brave in the daylight, but now, alone in a big house with a man she had only gone on a handful of dates with, all she wanted was to go home, crawl into her bed in that house in Cokeworth, eat her mom's cooking, watch television with Tuney, go to the park with Sev.

It was easy to keep up appearances most of the time. There was always something to do, a battle to fight, Muggles to rescue. In the heat of the moment, with her adrenaline pumping, blood running from a cut on her forehead, she can look at James and think: God, I love this man. But when it was just the two of them, and Lily had burned dinner again, and James was complaining ("Lily, this is stupid, you're Mrs Potter, you don't have to cook, why won't you just accept the house elf my parents offered?" "Because they're sentient people, James, who shouldn't be given away!"), or when James skipped off to hang out with his friends while Lily stayed at home because "good married witches don't do that"-- that was when she thought, I could smother James with a pillow.

It happened after an argument. She couldn't even remember how it started, but she finally got the courage to blurt out, "Maybe we should take a break."

"'Take a break'?" James parroted, his voice mocking and for a second it sounded just like it used to when he would say Snivellus. "Do you think this is Hogwarts? We're not dating, Lil, we're married!"

"Well, maybe we shouldn't be! I can't be the perfect Pureblood wife you want me to be!"

"You think I'm not struggling!? You're not the only one with problems, but you don't see me giving up and throwing in the towel!"

It was a revelation. All this time, and James had never said anything. Well, he never could admit when he made a mistake. But this was her chance, this was her way out. There was light at the end of the tunnel. "We don't have to be married, James! It's okay to say we made a mistake."

James shook his head, not wanting to hear her. "No, it isn't. We're not Muggles! Divorce isn't something that's easily done. Do you know how humiliating it would be if we got divorced? Do you know how ashamed my parents would be?"

"What is even the point of fighting this war if nothing changes?" Lily demanded, her face growing red with anger. "You can't keep the Wizarding World free of Muggle influence forever!"

"It's not just about us!" James roared back. "We're a symbol of something greater: I'm a Potter, a Pureblood, and you're Muggleborn. Our marriage is everything the Light represents! If we got divorced it would just prove You-Know-Who right!"

"You're proving him right all on your own! You won't accept anything Muggle! I can't even wear my Muggle clothes because married witches don't wear short skirts! It always has to be your way, James! 'You're a Potter now, this is how we do it.' You might as well just come out and say it: this is how Purebloods do it! "

She thought maybe she had pushed him too far, maybe he would unleash all that viciousness that he had kept tucked away after Snape left. Let him try, she thought. If he thought Sev's curses were bad, just wait until he tastes mine. But he hadn't. He didn't even raise his wand. He grabbed his cloak and stormed out of the house and with that tell-tale pop! she knew he had apparated away. Probably to Black's apartment, where they would get drunk and chase Muggle tail. Black was sure to have had a passel of half-blood bastards by now.

Lily collapsed on the sofa, and that was when the stray thought popped into her head: Mum was right. I'm too young to be married. I don't know how Sev went through with it at sixteen.

She had not thought seriously about Severus Snape in over a year. His name sometimes floated through her brain whenever she read an article on potions or saw a black cloak hanging in a shop window, but she didn't let herself dwell on him. He had made his choice, just like she had made hers. She wouldn't let herself doubt. She'd only get hurt again.

But tired, angry, and hurting, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about him even if she wanted to. At sixteen, Lily had not given much thought to Severus's age when she heard the news. After all, in their minds, they were only technically minors. In their hearts, they felt just as grown-up as any of the adults at the teachers' table. But just two years later, Lily already felt ages older than her sixteen-year-old self and yet still too young, and the thought, God, Sev was just a child, slammed into her. And what was worse: Lucius Malfoy had been twenty-two at the time. There were some students who had been jealous that the older and more sophisticated Lucius Malfoy had chosen Severus Snape of all people. Jealous? How could anyone be jealous? It was creepy. Malfoy was a grown man, and Severus was a sixteen-year-old boy. How long had it been going on? Had it started when Malfoy was still in school? Third year? Second year? First year? No, Sev would have told her. He told her everything.

Except where he lived. Except what went on in the Slytherin dorms. Except where he had gotten those bruises that would inevitability reappear every summer.

God, she felt sick. Why hadn't anyone stopped it? The Ministry? Dumbledore? And Malfoy – Everyone knew he was a Death Eater, and a high-ranking one at that. They could just never pin anything on him. What must it be like for Sev to be chained to a man like that? Lily felt the sudden need to see Severus, to make sure he was okay, that he wasn't hurt. But how? This was bigger than just him being in another House, neither brave enough to cross the Great Hall and sit at the other's table because of some stupid house rivalry. They were on opposite sides of a war. She had to be smart about this, or she might end up getting them both killed.

Chapter Text

On June 1, 1979, Severus Snape received his N.E.W.T. results.

Leah had eaten her breakfast, and had her subsequent face-washing, and was now sprawled across the floor beside the breakfast table coloring indiscriminately. Severus watched her work while he picked at his toast. He saw a lot of himself in her: tall for her age, and lean, with midnight black hair that curled at the ends, dark eyes, and although her nose looked more or less like every other baby’s nose at this stage in her life he knew it was only a matter of time before it grew long and hooked. He sighed, “I suppose it really was too much to hope you’d be spared that nose. You inherited it twice over.”

Leah didn’t bother to look up at him, not understanding and not caring what Severus said. She clutched her crayon in one fist and dragged it back and forth across the paper. Then she stopped. She glanced at the parquet wood floor, and then at her paper. Back at the pretty wood floor, and back at the paper. She shifted her gaze to Severus.

“Don’t you even think about it,” he growled.

By the age of 1 ½ years, Leah had grown completely inured to her mother’s threats. Whereas he could send lesser children screaming to their parents with a single glare, Leah remained defiant. She removed the crayon from her paper and placed the tip against the wood floor.

There was a pop, and what had been a crayon was now transfigured into a feather duster. Leah stared at it in confusion, rubbed the floor with it, and was very put out to find that not only did it not make colorful marks across the pretty hardwood, it in fact cleaned it. “There. Make yourself useful,” Severus said and turned back to his toast.

There was another pop, and the feather duster was gone, replaced with a paintbrush. “Cissa!” Severus scolded as Narcissa stepped into the room.

“What? She’s not a house elf. It’s not like it matters if she marks the floor. Magic, remember? Stop acting like you’re still living in that Muggle hovel.” Narcissa took her usual seat across from him while Leah painted the dark wood a vibrant yellow.

“She should learn that actions have consequences, and that magic can’t fix everything,” Severus said. “Besides, I hear enough from Abraxas about her. I don’t want to give him anything else to complain about.”

“Maybe if she annoys him enough, she’ll drive him completely insane. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, Leah?” Narcissa cooed at her. “It’d be so nice if he were to jump out a window.”

Leah dropped her paintbrush, splattering paint up and down her legs, pointed to the table and said, “Snack!”

“Most children learn to say ‘Ma’ or ‘Da’ before anything else,” Severus complained. “You say ‘snack.’”

“Snack!” Leah insisted once more.

Severus sighed and gave her the rest of his toast.

“I heard Lucius visited last night,” Narcissa said, raising one delicately plucked brow in his direction.

“Yes, he complained to me about the Ministry for two hours. I had to pretend like I was actually listening. Keep your husband confined to your bedroom, please. This is the fourth time this week he’s shown up wanting to talk.”

Narcissa hummed, and turned her gaze back onto Leah. Severus narrowed his eyes at her.

“In fact, he’s been coming around for months now.”

Narcissa shrugged. “It must be your charming personality.”

“Narcissa…”

She suddenly turned to look at him. “Why don’t you give Lucius a child? That would certainly get Abraxas off your back.”

Severus stiffened at this suddenly pointed question. “Lucius and I have decided to wait two years before trying. I need time to heal–” He cut himself off when he noticed Narcissa’s already pale face grow white. “Why don’t you give him that heir he needs?”

“Well, I– it’s just not a good time,” she explained. “Lucius understands.”

“Does he? Is that why he’s always hanging around here?”

“I might have… sometimes I lock the door.”

Severus leaned forward, shocked. “You what? You lock him out of the bedroom? Why? I thought you had a good marriage!”

“We do!” Narcissa insisted. “I just think… I don’t know if I want children.”

Severus knew what each word meant individually, but to hear them come out in that order from a Pureblood girl’s mouth just… didn’t make any sense. It was what a Pureblood girl was born to do. Sure, she might be allowed to have a career, even a life outside the home, but her first job – her most sacred job – was to provide more Purebloods. Not wanting children was unthinkable. “What about a Malfoy heir? I can't give Lucius that, only bastards.”

Narcissa waved her hands helplessly. “It’s not children themselves, really. I like children. I want to be a mother. I just… don’t want to be pregnant.” Seeing the dumbfounded look on Severus’s face, Narcissa hurried to explain. She needed him to understand. She wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t sick. She was still a good Pureblood woman, it was just… “Seeing you give birth… it terrified me. You were completely out of your mind, and there was so much blood, and the smell… They never tell you about the smell. It smells like death, all that gore. And the mediwizard. His face. He was terrified too. I thought you were going to die.”

“Cissa,” Severus sighed. “You know Lucius needs an heir. He won’t stay married to you if you can’t provide him with one, no matter how much he might care for you.”

“I know.”

“And if you get divorced, your family won’t take you back. You’ll be blasted off the family tree, like your sister Andromeda.”

“I know. I know. I’ll figure something out.” She leaned back in her chair.

An owl flew in through the open window and Narcissa sat up when she saw it was from the Wizarding Examinations Authority. They both made a grab for the letter, and Severus shot her a triumphant look when he used his longer reach to snatch it right above her head. He tore open the envelope and his face dropped when he saw his results.

"Well?" Narcissa demanded.

"I made straight O's on my O.W.L.s," he complained, throwing down the letter in disgust. Narcissa picked up the letter and read through it. The only O he made this time was in Potions. There was an E in Herbology, two A's (one in Care of Magical Creatures and Astronomy), and the rest were P's, except for his Transfiguration score which was marked D for Dreadful.

"You're too hard on yourself. I think you did wonderfully for someone in your circumstance," Narcissa said.

"I would never be able to get a potion apprenticeship with scores like that."

"You don't need grades, you have money. Your apprenticeship is already bought and paid for."

Severus was distracted from whatever else Narcissa might say when Leah toddled to him, dropping her shoes into his lap. "Do you want to go to the garden?" He asked her as he picked her up and adjusted her on his knee so he could put her shoes on. "Do you want to go with us?"

"I promised my mother I'd go shopping with her." Narcissa stood up, brushed back Leah's black curls, and waved goodbye. "I'll be back sometime this evening."

Narcissa left and Severus finished getting Leah dressed. He took her by the hand and led her out of the suite. She wanted to go down the main staircase, but he pulled her back, toward the servants' stairwell. "We have to go this way," he said and helped her down the dark, steep stairs. Abraxas would throw a fit if he saw the "whelp" as he called her in any of the family rooms.

Outside in the bright sunlight, Leah broke off into a run as fast as her stubby legs could take her. They were in the kitchen garden, and Leah wandered between the rows of herbs, pressing her face into the rosemary. "Look!" She cried and held up a weed for his inspection.

"Good job. That's dragonsbane. I can kill a man with that… Don't eat that snail!"

Alas, it was too late, Leah already had it in her mouth. Severus could hear the crunch of its shell from where he stood. He sighed. It wasn't poisonous, just gross. He took her hand again and they walked and played until it was time for her nap. He carried her back up the servants' stairwell and took her into the nursery. He put her down in the crib and watched as she drifted off. She kept rubbing her eyes, trying to fight it off, but within a minute she was out like a light.

"I always assumed you would eat your young, like a spider," Lucius's voice came from somewhere behind him.

"Spiders eat their mates too. You've still got a little over six months to back out of the contract if you want." He turned around to face Lucius, who gave a snort of laughter. "Don't you have business that needs attending?"

"Not today, my time is my own until tonight." Meaning, at best, Lucius would be meeting with the Dark Lord. At worst, someone was going to die tonight. Lucius might like his pretty euphemisms when he talked to Severus and Narcissa about what went on, but Severus couldn't pretend he didn't know the truth. Something squirmed deep inside his chest at the thought, but he ignored it. Those people were strangers. Who cared if they got hurt? He owed Lucius.

"I was thinking…" Lucius began, tapping his cane against the floor. "You've been stuck inside this house for too long. You need to get out more. Why don't you accompany me to the opera?"

Severus laughed. "What? Like a date?" He mocked.

But Lucius said nothing, he didn't laugh back, and Severus saw that his face was beginning to turn pink with color. "You don't actually mean a date, do you?" Severus demanded, his alarm making his voice crack like he was thirteen again.

"Is that so hard to believe? You're not that strange, gangly boy anymore. You've grown up, Severus."

Severus shook his head. This was ridiculous. Lucius was just feeling lonely without Narcissa and was looking for something to fill in the gap, that was all. "Go talk to Narcissa and leave me out of your marital spats."

That pink coloring Lucius's cheeks was quickly darkening into red. Like a child, he hated being told 'no.' "How can I do that when you're a part of this marriage? You are my concubine. You are required by law to serve and honor me."

"We had a deal. I would give you children and that was it. No romance, no sex outside of reproduction."

"Well, you haven't done that either!" Lucius snapped and Severus turned around to cast a quick silencing charm over the crib to keep Leah from waking. He looked down at her, watched her sleep while Lucius continued to rant somewhere behind him. "I've been taking care of you and that brat all this time and what do I have to show for it? Both you and Narcissa are denying me my right as a husband! What good are the pair of you if you can't give me children!? I don't care what I said before. You're healthy and I expect you to do your duty."

Severus turned back around, his hands gripping the edge of the crib in an effort to keep from pulling out his wand. "I won't. I have six months left. Go ahead and try to force me. See what happens."

Lucius stood there for a second, but didn't take him up on the challenge. He stormed out of the room and Severus heard the door to his suite slam closed.

Severus didn't see Lucius again until the following evening. Leah had been put to bed and he was waiting for Dobby to arrive with his dinner when Lucius appeared. "What do you want?" He asked. He had his wand hidden in the pocket of his robes. He'd even been sleeping with it since his fight with Lucius.

Lucius waved him off and sat at the head of the dining table, the chair Severus usually took when he ate alone. "Just dinner."

At the word "dinner" a small feast appeared on the table, even grander than what he usually ate and meals at Malfoy Manor were in no way lacking. Severus took the chair to Lucius's left. "What's all this for?"

"A truce. We were friends before all this, weren't we?"

Lucius was looking at his plate, refusing to meet his eyes. He looked sorry, but Severus knew the man would never apologize. He was a Pureblood. He was taught that the whole world owed him. This was the best Severus was going to get from him. Severus relaxed a little and started to cut into his lobster thermidor. "How are things with Narcissa?" He asked, taking a bite.

"Tense. She doesn't want to have relations. My father isn't pleased with her at the moment."

"Maybe the problem is having your father involved in your sex life at all," Severus muttered darkly.

Lucius watched him for a moment while he ate. "Are you scared?" He asked.

"What?" Severus asked, shooting Lucius a glare.

"Are you scared of getting pregnant, like Narcissa? Is that why you're so reluctant to have sex?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not scared of getting pregnant."

"But you still don't want to have sex. You know, a man could develop a complex living with you."

"I promise you, you're very pretty," Severus mocked. His tongue felt strangely heavy and numb. Was it the spices? He licked his lips, noting an odd taste.

"I'm a generous lover. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Was Lucius still talking? His vision was getting fuzzy around the edges. "What?"

"There are ways to get around your fear. You don't even have to be awake for it if you don't want to."

Severus pushed his plate away and tried to stand up, his knees buckling dangerously. "What did you put in this?" He slurred.

"Just a sleep potion," Lucius said soothing. "I put it in your food this time since dying it didn't work. You'll get a nice, full eight hours of sleep. You won't notice a thing."

The potion worked fast. He stumbled, tried to catch himself on the table and collapsed. He felt Lucius's hands on his shoulders. He couldn't break free. He felt numb. Darkness rushed over his vision and he was out.

Severus awoke the next morning to bright sunlight and the sound of the peacocks trilling in the distance. He was naked and sore and the room smelled of sex. Lucius had gotten everything he wanted.

Chapter Text

That morning, Severus marched down to Gringotts and demanded the tattered remains of the contract he signed. He had plans for it. Maybe use it as kindling to set the house on fire. But when the goblins brought it out of the vault, it was intact, gleaming with magic. It hadn't shattered. Why hadn't it shattered?

"Why would it? You weren't physically harmed," Lucius stated when Severus returned. "That was all you asked for."

"You violated me!" Severus screamed.

"You gave your consent when you signed that contract! You can't take it back!"

"I want out! I don't care about the consequences, I want out!"

"Not until you repay me for your tutors, the food you ate, the roof over your head– and I expect my payment in kind. You promised me children, Severus, and I will get what I am owed!"

He barricaded himself in his suite. He drew runes across the floor to stop anyone from apparating inside, and sent a letter to the Ministry requesting his fireplaces be removed from the Floo Network. Leah stared at him, wide-eyed and shaking, when he pushed his writing desk in front of the door. He should comfort her, he knew, pretend it was all just a funny game so she wouldn't get scared, but he couldn't. It didn't matter how tall he had grown, how many spells he had learned, Severus was a child again. Shadows crept into the corner of his eyes, and more than once he had to do a double-take because he was sure he saw a man half-sprawled across his sofa, drunk. He could even smell the stench of his father's favorite beer, and shivered when he felt his sour breath against his neck. But he would turn, wand already raised, only to find no one was there.

The house elves managed to circumvent all of his efforts to deliver food and clean the rooms, working silently and invisibly. The part of him that wasn't going mad with fear knew he should be grateful, but the other part of him felt the ghost of hands touching him and grabbing him every time he found something out of place, or a meal laid out for him and Leah without Severus ever seeing someone come in.

Leah lasted all of all three days before she came into the sitting room where he was securing the wards, carrying her shoes. "No, Leah, we're not going to the garden. We're staying inside today."

She stopped her foot and Severus snapped at her. "I said, no! Go play with your toys!"

Leah burst into tears, tossing one shoe on the ground, and then the other, before running off. Severus didn't have time to chase after her; he needed to make sure they were safe.

He heard a popping sound and, turning to look, he saw the white paint he had used to mark his runes flake off, scattering in the wind. His wards were disappearing all around him and with a deafening shriek followed by a thud! he saw the writing desk shoot across the floor and collide with the opposite wall.

The door pushed open and there stood Lucius. "Really, Severus?" He asked. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

Severus didn't answer, just crossed his arms and thought about his chances if he attacked now.

Lucius rubbed his forehead. "This is my home, Severus. You can't keep me out. Honestly, you're acting like a child. I would have thought you'd be grateful to sleep through the whole thing, since the very idea of having sex with me seemed to disgust you so much."

He stepped into the room, and Severus took a step back.

Lucius held up his hands. "I won't touch you, not for another nine months at least if it took. Have you taken a pregnancy test?"

"No," Severus spat out.

"Well, then, let me have the honor," Lucius said and lifted his wand.

Severus flinched bodily away and Lucius hesitated, the hand gripping his wand hovering mid-cast.

"I'll do it. I can make the potion. I'll do it," Severus insisted.

Lucius stared at him for a heartbeat, not speaking. He slowly lowered his wand and said, "Alright. You do it. I'll wait here, if you prefer." He took a seat on the sofa, his back turned to Severus.

Severus thought about blasting a hole through that pretty, blond head of his and painting his sitting room with the whole gory mess. The only thing stopping him was Leah. What would happen to her if he was sent to Azkaban for murder? The Malfoys wouldn't keep her; would she be sent to live with their father? He kept his shaking hands by his side and crept into the spare bedroom that he had converted into a work space.

The bed and dresser had been replaced with a large worktable. Suspended inside the fireplace was his cauldron and everywhere were shelves filled with potions and dried herbs and bottled animal parts. Severus went to his cauldron and waved his hand over the ashes with a muttered incendio, watching in pleasure as the long-dead flames sprang to life. He was getting better at casting that spell without his wand. Soon, he didn't think he would even need to say the word.

He started grabbing ingredients off of the shelves. It was a simple potion; it would take him only a half hour at most to finish it. Longer than a spell, but… safer. If only for his own peace of mind.

He threw in each ingredient, barely taking the time to check if the color was correct. This was like child's play to him; he could have brewed this potion by second year if he wanted to. Towards the end of the process, Severus took a strand of his own hair and tossed it in, and waited to see what color it change to. Gold if he was pregnant, blue if he wasn't.

The clear, pale green liquid darkened into a deep, dark blue.

A spiteful thrill shot through him at the sight. All of his machinations, and Lucius still failed. But it was quickly followed by fear. Lucius will try again. He will try as many times as he needs to. For so much of his life, Severus felt that his actions and motivations were dictated by his fears. Less the dark, evil mastermind the Marauders liked to paint him as, and more of a scared animal that just reacted without thinking. He wasn't thinking now when he grabbed a bottle of felix felicis from a shelf littered with potions and marched into his sitting room.

Lucius stood up. "Well?" He asked.

Severus held up the bottle of gold liquid, and Lucius, not knowing any better, only saw the color. He broke into a smile.

"You've made me very happy, Severus," he said.

Even with Lucius's assurances that he would not bother Severus for the duration of his "pregnancy," Severus kept to his rooms, hidden from everyone except Leah. Lucius had made a lot of promises, both to him and Narcissa, and he had broken every single one the moment it was no longer convenient for him. He didn't trust him. He couldn't trust him.

Narcissa, as far as Severus knew, was still locking him out of their bedroom. So far, Lucius hadn't forced her into submitting the same way he had forced Severus. Whether or not it was because she was his Pureblood wife instead of just a half-blood concubine, or if there was something in their marriage contract preventing him, he didn't know, but he was glad she was still standing her ground.

Severus was sitting curled up on his sofa late one night, flipping through a book and doing everything in his power to not think about the hole he had dug for himself. Sooner or later, Lucius will find out he lied, but Severus wasn't going to think about that right now. Leah had been put to bed hours ago, and it was just him and his thoughts. He could hear the faint sounds of people talking from downstairs, floating up from the dining room. He assumed it was one of Narcissa's parties. He didn't know; he was never invited. As friendly as they were, Narcissa couldn't let her husband's concubine dine with the family. It would make her look weak.

Which is why it came as such a shock to him when Dobby appeared, saying that his presence was required in the dining room.

"You're mistaken," he said.

"No, sir," Dobby answered back, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. His eyes were wide with fear. "He wants to see you."

"Lucius?"

"The Dark Lord."

Severus felt his heart stop. He knew Lucius had spoken to the Dark Lord about him back when he was still a student at Hogwarts, had sang his praises to Severus's delight. As smart as he was, he rarely received attention for it. Even Slughorn, his own head of house, had passed him over when picking students to join his Slug Club because of his clothes and his unfriendly personality. It was flattering then, having someone that powerful interested in him, despite his blood status. But then he got pregnant and that was that.

What could the Dark Lord possibly want with him now? The lie he told about Leah's father, claiming to have slept with a random Muggle, was shameful enough to keep him firmly on the outside of Pureblood society.

Severus left his suite for the dining room, his curiosity overruling his fear. He saw Lucius first, sitting at the top right of the table instead of the head where he belonged. His gaze drifted to the person who had claimed Lucius's rightful place.

The Dark Lord.

He looked nothing like how Severus envisioned him. His skin was white and waxy, his eyes unnaturally red. There was something almost reptilian about him. He smiled at Severus and said, "Severus Snape, a pleasure to finally meet you. Lucius has told me that congratulations are in order. Come, sit down beside Narcissa."

Narcissa was next to Lucius, her face half-hidden by her blonde hair in shame. Didn't the Dark Lord know how humiliating this was for her? Severus obeyed, and took the chair. There were others seated at the table, some masked, some not, and more standing in the shadows, watching silently.

"You are a credit to Lucius," the Dark Lord continued, piercing Severus with his gaze. "Every day, more and more mudbloods infiltrate our world. We should all be doing our duty, whether that is on the frontlines or here at home, bringing up a new generation of witches and wizards."

The Dark Lord finished his speech. Narcissa had bowed her head even lower. Unsure of what was required of him, Severus remained seated as dinner continued. The Dark Lord didn't bother to say anything else to him and after a while, the people at the tables stood up and began to mingle. Severus took that as his cue to slip away back upstairs, but he had only gotten about ten steps toward the door when he heard someone say, "Severus."

He turned and saw Regulus Black walking up to him, a smile on his face. "I haven't seen you in years," he said. "You've changed a lot."

"So have you," Severus said. He still remembered him as that fourteen-year-old boy, and now he was almost an adult. He looked a lot like his brother. "You've joined then?"

"Yes." He pulled back his sleeve to show him the same mark that was branded into Lucius's arm. "Though I don't get to do much, since I'm still in school. You know–" a wicked smile spread across Regulus's face. "Don't tell anyone I told you this, only a few people are allowed to know, but–" he dropped his voice to a whisper. "You remember my brother and those bullies that used to torture you in school? Well, one of them has joined us. Pettigrew's our man on the inside. It won't be long before the whole lot of them, and that mudblood, are dead. Yeah, I thought you might like it. It's justice as far as I'm concerned. What goes around comes around."

Severus did feel a sort of vindictive glee at the thought. All those years and they called him a Death Eater-wannabe, when really they were best friends with one. He might have gone to bed then, content with the thought that maybe there was some justice in this universe, except… "Mudblood? What mudblood?" He asked.

"That red-haired mudblood you used to always hang around with. Lily Evans. Didn't you hear? Did Lucius and Narcissa not tell you? She married James Potter."

A roaring ocean pounded in his ears as his mind was split in two. There was the part of him that screamed Lily was in danger, that Peter Pettigrew was going to lead her to her death. Then there was his other half, the darker side of his personality, that stewed in twisted thoughts. So what? He asked himself. So what if she dies? She betrayed him. She was beautiful, popular, and intelligent and she could have anyone in the world, and she chose James Potter. It was a slap in the face. Did all those years of pain mean nothing to her? How could she even look Potter in the eye, knowing what kind of man he was? That black rage washed away his sympathy. They all deserved what they'll get in the end.

The party dispersed, slowly, in ones and twos and threes, the Death Eaters apparated away from the Manor, leaving only Severus, Lucius, Narcissa, and the Dark Lord himself. The Dark Lord was talking quietly to Lucius, and Lucius looked very grave and serious, but also… proud. Excited. And then the Dark Lord left too, vanished with hardly even a snap.

Narcissa stood up from the table. She didn't look at Severus as she said, "Come, Lucius, let's go to bed."

Severus lingered by the dining room door as he watched Narcissa lead her husband to their bedroom, too ashamed to continue barring him from it, her chin cocked proud and haughty, but even now Severus could see she was afraid. Was this really the world he wanted to protect? What kind of life would he and Narcissa have if the Dark Lord won? The rage still thrummed through his veins, but… he didn't want this life. He didn't want Leah to live this life.

Severus returned to his suite and drafted a letter to Albus Dumbledore.

Chapter Text

Severus was struck with déjà vu as he followed McGonagall through the empty school, to Dumbledore's office. He carried Leah up the stairs, who looked at everything with wide eyes, past the gargoyle and into the room hidden behind it. McGonagall turned to leave and Leah waved at her, yelling "Bye!" in a voice that echoed loudly against the stone. That broke McGonagall's stern facade, and a smile spread across her face. Not even she could resist the urge to wave back at a baby.

Leah, of course, was enchanted by the spinning, golden gadgets that cluttered Dumbeldore's office and Severus wondered if that was the point of it all: to dazzle children, make them easier to trick. Leah reached out to touch one, but Severus pulled her back. "No. Don't touch."

"It's quite alright," Dumbledore said from where he sat at his desk, looking for all the world like a doting grandfather. "Between you and me, I don't even know what half of these things do."

Severus ignored him and set Leah down. He pulled out a tiny, shrunken stack of paper and crayons from his pocket, enlarged them, and handed them off to her. "Sit down there and color." Severus felt a swell of pride when Leah resisted the temptation to touch and did as she was told; he wasn't going to raise any spoiled brats.

Severus took the seat across from Dumbledore, who simply watched Leah color with that genial smile still plastered on his face. "Do you think it wise, Severus? Bringing her here?"

"She knows all of five words, most of them some variation of 'food.' I think your secrets are safe with her," Severus said.

Sitting in that same chair, across from that man, Severus waited for the fear and anxiety to wash over as it had when he was a child. But it didn't. Maybe it was because he no longer needed Hogwarts, maybe it was because he was actually taller than Dumbledore now, or even just because Leah was there and it was always easier to stand up for someone else than for yourself, but Severus felt calm and unbothered by Dumbledore's piercing gaze. 

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked.

"Absolutely not," Severus said. "I'd rather take Veritaserum straight, if you don't mind."

Dumbledore's white, bushy brows lifted into his hairline. "I don't lace candy with potions, Severus," he said as he reached inside his desk to pull out a vial of veritaserum.

Severus sneered and took it, bolting it down in one neat gulp, like his father used to take his whisky.

"How have you been?" He asked, as soon as Severus swallowed it all down.

He set the vial down on Dumbledore's desk. "I thought I was here to talk about Pettigrew," Severus said.

Some of that bland geniality dissipated. Those twinkling blue eyes dulled and he looked hard at Severus. "I hardly know anything about you, other than the fact that you became Lucius Malfoy's concubine and bore him a child. How can I trust you?"

Severus pulled back his sleeves to show his bare, unmarked arms. "I'm not a Death Eater, and do you really think I can overcome Veritaserum? Everything I'm telling you now is the truth. Peter Pettigrew is a spy."

"You don't have to lie to sow chaos, you don't have to bear the mark of Voldemort to serve him–" Severus couldn't help but flinch at hearing the name. "Do you know what a poisoned pawn is, Severus? It's a strategy used in chess. You allow your opponent to capture one of your pawns, but in doing so they end up losing valuable time and resources. Peter Pettigrew could be a poisoned pawn; by directing my focus on him, I might allow something far more dangerous slip into my ranks," Dumbledore said, levelling his cold, blue gaze at Severus.

Severus couldn't help it. He threw back his head and laughed. He would never understand why people kept overestimating him. He could be innocently sitting in the library, reading a book, and people would say he was plotting some nefarious scheme. "I'm not doing this on the Dark Lord's orders. I want to help."

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," Severus mocked.

It was the truth.

Somehow, Dumbledore did not appreciate this answer. Severus could feel the change in the air, like right before a thunderstorm. The magic emanating from Dumbledore was powerful enough that Severus could almost taste it. For the first time since he arrived, Severus felt that spark of fear, but he kept still, his face neutral. He told himself Dumbledore wouldn't do anything to him so long as Leah was in the room.

"Do you think it's funny, all those innocent lives slaughtered?" Dumbledore demanded. "You were always a cruel boy."

"I was cruel!?" Severus snapped. "How can you sit there and say I was cruel when Potter and Black bullied me almost every day I was here!?" He shook his head. "I don't know the person you saw when you looked at me, but that Severus Snape doesn't exist. He only existed in your head. I'm my own person, with actual thoughts and feelings!"

Severus leaned back in the chair, feeling suddenly out of breath. He watched Leah for a moment, and he could feel the Veritaserum working through his veins, pushing him into telling the truth. "You were wrong."

"Wrong about what?" Dumbledore asked.

"When you said I bore Lucius Malfoy a child. I haven't. Leah isn't his daughter."

Dumbledore looked genuinely surprised. "I had heard rumors that her father was Muggle, but didn't think it was true–"

"It is true. Her father is a Muggle. Do you want to know who he is?" Severus leaned forward, his heart thundering in his ears. He had never actually said it out loud before. "Her father is my father. Tobias Snape."

The room was silent, except for the soft whirring of the golden instruments that surrounded them. But the gate had been opened and soon a flood of words poured from Severus's mouth, like a lanced wound, he couldn't have stopped it even if he wanted to. "It started when I was about seven or eight, I think. My mother knew; she must have known. But she preferred to pretend that everything was fine, that we were a good and loving family, until she couldn't anymore and then she just left. That's when it got really bad. I came home for summer break after fifth year and he wasn't there. He'd gone out, where I don't know. I thought I had gotten lucky. I was an idiot. I was unpacking my trunk and didn't hear him come in. Seeing my school things set him off. He started in on my hair, telling me it was too long, that it made me look like a girl. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me into his bedroom. He liked it when I cried, and of course Snivellus always cried. He pushed my face into the mattress, and he–"

Dumbledore raised his hand and uttered a strangled, "Stop."

"What? I thought you wanted to know about me. How can you trust me if you don't know everything?" Severus asked, his words biting and cruel.

Dumbledore sagged in his chair and stared at Leah, who was still happily coloring. He looked like a frail, old man. "Why didn't you tell someone?" He asked.

"Who was I supposed to tell? You? You wouldn't even stop a couple of children from bullying me, how could I ever trust you enough to tell you?" He shook his head. "You told me what my options were my first year here: either go live with relatives who were no better than my father, or a Muggle orphanage. I still think I chose the lesser of those evils by staying with Tobias." He stood up. "Do what you want with Pettigrew. I wash my hands of it."

Dumbledore reached out and grasped his wrist, holding him in place. "I am sorry, very sorry that wasn't able to– that I didn't help you. I can't fix what has already happened, but I can help you now. Please."

"How can you expect me to trust you?"

Dumbledore let go of his wrist to pull out a second vial of Veritaserum from his desk. He drank it down, looked Severus in the eye, and said, "I want to help you, Severus."

"That's dangerous. What if I worked for the Dark Lord? I could ask you anything."

"You could," Dumbledore said with a nod and Severus sat back down.

"Just how exactly do you plan on 'helping me'?"

"That's up to you. Are you… happy as Lucius Malfoy's concubine?"

"No," he admitted.

"I could help you break your contract, or…" Dumbledore hesitated. "You could remain with him for the time being, and serve as a spy for the Light. We need you, Severus. You have access to places we could only dream of going. If we win, I give you my word, I will do everything in my power to make sure you are rewarded for your contribution. I will have your contract broken, and whatever else you might ask."

"If you win," Severus repeated. "I could die doing your dirty work, and what would happen to Leah?"

"There are many people in the Order who have children. It's a question we all must wrestle with."

Severus leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "If I do this, then I want your word that Narcissa will face no repercussions and will still inherit the Malfoy estate if Lucius is convicted."

"Done."

"I want… I want change. I don't want anyone else to go through what I did."

"I can't make any promises on future Ministry policies, but I will make changes to Hogwarts policy."

Severus nodded. He supposed that was as good as it was going to get. "Alright. If I learn anything else, I'll tell you. But I'm not usually invited to their meetings, and Lucius doesn't like to talk about what goes on to me."

"Whatever you can give us will help." As Severus stood up again, Dumbledore asked, "Please, don't be offended, but... why did you keep your daughter? No one would have blamed you for giving her up."

"Because I'm not my mother," Severus said. "And who knows where she might have ended up if I didn't."

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "You said I never saw you, that I saw a Severus Snape that I had made up in my own head. I want to tell you, you were right. I didn't see you. I saw a poor, half-blood Slytherin who hated Muggles for the things done to him, bursting with ambition, a need to prove everyone wrong, intelligent and powerful. I saw Tom Riddle… I saw Voldemort. Not you. He asked me once, if he could stay here over summer holidays, just like you did. I told him no."

The Dark Lord was just a half-blood like him? "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had helped him? If you could have stopped this entire war from ever starting if only you had been kinder?"

"Sometimes," he quietly admitted.

Severus picked Leah up, settling her over his hip. "Goodbye, Headmaster."

Severus arrived back at Malfoy Manor to find it quiet. He traveled through the servants' quarters, making his way upstairs to his suite when he ran into Dobby. "Where is everyone?" He asked.

"Mistress took Master Abraxas to St. Mungo's," the house elf said. "He was having trouble breathing, sir."

"Is he alright?"

Dobby shrugged. "A package arrived for you, sir, it's in your sitting room."

Severus nodded and continued on. When he arrived he found the package on a side table next to the sofa. It was large, rectangular, and almost flat. He stared at it in complete bafflement. He had no idea what it was; he hadn't ordered anything. He ignored it for now, and went to get Leah her snack. He played with her for a little while, then laid her down for her nap. He came back to the sitting room, and circled the package, not quite trusting it. A few quick spells showed that it wasn't hexed, or cursed to come alive and bite him the moment he touched it.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he picked it up and opened it to find… a Celestina Warbeck album. "The Singing Sorceress," as she was called. Severus was more confused than ever. He didn't even like her music.

Holding the album in his hands, looking at the winking, laughing face of Warbeck, a memory floated to the surface of his brain. Lily, age 10 ("and a half," she insisted) dragging him up to her bedroom. There was a milk crate full of albums in one corner of her room and she dug through them, eventually pulling out one.

"'The Bay City Rollers'?" Severus read, his voice dripping with disgust.

Lily shot him a sly smile and pulled the record out of its sleeve, only to reveal the secret the smiling Scottish boy band was hiding: Jefferson Airplane. "Don't tell my mum," Lily begged. "I'm not supposed to listen to them." He promised and they spent that entire afternoon lying on the rug in her bedroom floor, sharing her headphones between them, listening to her secret rock and roll collection.

He pulled the record from the sleeve and saw that it was Jefferson Airplane's Surrealistic Pillow. He didn't actually have a way to play it; it was an LP and the Wizarding World had only just gotten over its moral panic over the phonograph. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that it was from Lily. She wanted to contact him, wanted to speak with him. The anger he felt at her marriage evaporated in the face of his aching want to see her, and he couldn't help but hate himself a little for giving in so easily. But he couldn't help it; if she wanted to see him, he would go to her, no matter what.

Chapter Text

The sick were crammed into every available space within St. Mungo’s, spilling out into the hallways, shivering and coughing. Severus kept the kerchief pressed against his nose and mouth to keep from contracting dragonpox as he pushed his way through the crowd of bodies. There were always a few cases of dragonpox every year, especially around this time now that summer had ended and autumn was just starting, but Severus had never seen anything like this.

It wasn't hard to spot Lucius and Narcissa; they always managed to stand out in a crowd. "What's going on?" He demanded as he came to stand next to them. "Is your father alright? You two never came home last night."

"Severus, you shouldn't be here. Think of your condition," Lucius chastised, but the words lacked any heat, the man was too distracted to give Severus more than a cursory glance. He looked rough; there were dark circles underneath his eyes, and what was clearly stubble darkening his jaw. He was clutching what looked like a plain, leather-bound book to his chest like a child might with a stuffed animal. Lucius Malfoy never looked anything less than perfect when in public. "Father has got a mild case of dragonpox. Don't worry, it's nothing to be concerned about. We'll be taking Father home soon. We can give him better care there."

Severus shared a glance with Narcissa, who gave a slight shake of her head. So, Abraxas was bad off then, and Lucius was fooling himself. He waited with them until a nurse came to fetch them. She ushered them into a private room, pulling back the curtain that blocked the hospital bed from sight. As the sheet moved back, long swaths of green, pus-filled flesh were revealed. Abraxas was almost completely unrecognizable; his face was bloated, his eyes bloodshot, and there was a constant, rhythmic whistling as he struggled to draw a breath.

"Narcissa." Lucius turned to his wife. "Levitate my father. I'll get the portkey ready."

The nurse protested. "I want to make you understand that you are doing this against the recommendation of the mediwizard. Your father is very sick–"

"And do you expect him to get better surrounded by all this filth?" Lucius sneered. "He will improve once he's home."

"Lucius, maybe you should listen–" Narcissa started to say, but Lucius quickly cut her off.

"My family has always taken care of their own. At home. Now come."

With a sigh, Narcissa obeyed, levitating her father-in-law out of the bed, and within seconds they were back at Malfoy Manor. Lucius began rushing around, barking orders at the house elves, converting one of the downstairs guest rooms into a sick room. He waved Narcissa forward, and she levitated Abraxas onto the bed as soon as the house elves had magicked fresh linens on it. Severus hovered by the door, watching. One of the pustules that had sprung all along Abraxas's neck had burst and was oozing something dark green onto those clean, white sheets.

With nothing left to do, Lucius collapsed in a chair beside his father's bed, still clutching that book until his knuckles were white. Narcissa patted the sheets, shooting Severus another look that plainly said, it's your turn to deal with him, and left the room. Severus repressed a sigh. The last thing he wanted was to spend any length of time with Lucius, but like it or not he was the head of their family while Abraxas was sick, and they couldn't have him falling apart. Severus didn't imagine the Dark Lord would be very understanding if Lucius showed up to a meeting looking like this, regardless of the circumstances.

Severus came to stand beside Lucius, who continued to stare dully at the shallow rise and fall of his father's chest. What was he supposed to say? He wasn't good at comfort. "Do you want me to take that to the library for you?" He asked, reaching for the book.

He blinked in surprise when Lucius flinched away from him, pressing the book firmly against his chest. "No! That is– I– it was given to me. By the Dark Lord. I'm supposed to keep it safe."

Severus looked at the book in surprise. It didn't appear to be anything special, just a thin, battered volume without even a title. What could possibly be written inside? "Why don't you take it upstairs to your bedroom then? You should rest while you can, Dobby will tell you if there's any change."

"No, I'll stay. What if he needs me?" Lucius asked.

"Your father is strong–" Your father is an arrogant prick. "He will get better."

Lucius nodded solemnly. "He is strong. Stronger than me. What if he dies?" He suddenly asked, turning to Severus with wide, gray eyes.

I'd do a happy jig. "Lucius… we all die," he said. It wasn't the syrupy lies he was supposed to tell at a time like this, but the only comfort Severus had been good at was cold comfort, and Narcissa should know better than to leave this to him. "Your father is old. It's natural for children to bury their parents. You'll grieve, but it will get better over time."

Maybe it was because Severus had never loved his father, but he found himself unable to relate to Lucius's panic. "I don't know what to do. He's always been there for me. People don't respect me like they respect him. You never disobeyed my father, but you treated me like I was just your schoolmate–"

"We were friends, Lucius."

"It wasn't proper anymore! My father said it was an embarrassment, the way you talked back to me. I am the paterfamilias! He said I needed to put you in your place! And I did, didn't I? You obey me now, don't you?"

Even the false sympathy that Severus had put on evaporated in the face of this confession. "I never respected your father. And I don't respect you. Not anymore. You have my obedience, Lucius, but you've lost my friendship. I hope it was a worthwhile trade."

The days crawled by, and slowly the Wizarding World ground to a halt as the sickness spread. Classes at Hogwarts were suspended, and most of the students had been sent home. The only ones who stayed were the ones too sick to be moved. St. Mungo's was overflowing with new patients, and hardly a household remained untouched. His plans to contact Lily had to be put on hold, but at the very least it meant the war had ground down to a standstill while both sides contended with their sick.

Severus patted Narcissa on the back while she vomited into the toilet for the seventh time that day. She couldn't bury her head in the sand and pretend it wasn't happening anymore: she was pregnant. "This doesn't seem right," Severus said. "I don't think you should be throwing up this much."

She looked up at him with glassy eyes. Her skin was yellow and waxy. "You don't seem to have any morning sickness at all."

Severus shrugged. "Every pregnancy is different."

"Oh, and now you're supposed to be the expert?"

"I've got one up on you." He helped her to her feet. "You should rest."

Her legs shook with effort. "I have to go to Grimmauld Place."

"What for?"

"I haven't heard from Regulus in a week. He's not responding to my letters. He's all alone in that house right now, with Aunt Walburga gone off to Paris. What if he has dragonpox? What if he's dead?"

"I'll check on him, you rest." He guided her to bed, and she must have been feeling terrible because she stopped protesting. She sank into her mattress and within minutes she had drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Severus went to his suite to grab his cloak and gave orders to Dobby on what to feed Leah for lunch in case he was late getting back. He apparated away from Malfoy Manor and appeared in an alley in London. He had only been to Grimmauld Place once after Orion Black's funeral. Walburga had been just as nasty to him as her son Sirius had been and made it clear that the "half-blood slut" wasn't welcome in her home, regardless of who his husband might be. But she had fled London for Paris when the epidemic broke out, and as far as Severus was concerned what she didn't know wouldn't kill her.

It took him a moment to find the hidden house among the dark and dreary Victorian rows and he rapped his knuckles against the door. Several long minutes passed before the door opened and there stood Regulus's house elf, Kreacher.

"I'm here to see Regulus," Severus said.

"He's not here!" The elf snapped back and tried to slam the door closed.

Severus pushed back with his magic and stepped fully inside. Kreacher glowered hatefully up at him from the shadows. "Then where is he? No one can get in touch with him. Narcissa is out of her mind with worry."

At Narcissa's name, Kreacher's attitude changed. He became anxious, twisting the hem of his rucksack between his hands. "Master Regulus ordered Kreacher not to tell the family what happened."

Severus folded his arms. "Well, I'm not part of the Black family."

That was apparently all Kreacher needed, because his face lit up like a light. He disappeared, only to reappear a second later with a silver locket in his hands, rambling about some cave and the Dark Lord–

"He said the Dark Lord required an elf and Master Regulus volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do… and then to c-come home."

Kreacher started to rock, his breaths coming in sobs. Severus got a sinking feeling in his gut. What had happened to Regulus?

"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave there was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake, a boat, and an island. There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it. Kreacher drank… Kreacher's insides burned… Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed… he dropped the locket in the empty basin and he filled it with more potion. And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island."

The elf quaked from head to foot.

"Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake... and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface… Kreacher came back though, because Master Regulus said to. Master Regulus was very worried, very worried. Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then... it was a little while later ... Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell... and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord… M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had," said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose.

"And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets… And he order-- Kreacher to leave-- without him. And he told Kreacher-- to go home-- and never to tell my Mistress-- what he had done-- but to destroy-- the first locket. And he drank-- all the potion-- and Kreacher swapped the lockets-- and watched... as Master Regulus... was dragged beneath the water... and..."

And Regulus drowned. Severus stared in horror at the 'S' emblazoned with green gemstones. Regulus was dead? That boy he used to tutor in Potions, that boy who comforted him after one particularly nasty prank had sent him to the infirmary, was dead? Oh God, what was he going to tell Narcissa?

"He told Kreacher to destroy it, but it. Won't. Break." He grabbed the locket from Severus's hands and smashed it against the ground with each word he spoke.

"Stop that!" Severus exclaimed and made a grab for the locket, only to miss. "We don't know what will happen if you keep bashing it like that!" Whatever the locket was, it had something to do with the Dark Lord, and that alone made it dangerous.

“Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to destroy it!”

“I will help you destroy it. Narcissa and I, together. You know how much Narcissa loves her cousin. She’ll help.”

Kreacher clutched the locket to his chest, thinking, but then he swallowed and nodded and passed the locket to Severus. He took it and placed it in his pocket. It felt oddly heavy, resting against his thigh. "I will destroy it," he promised again, before turning around and walking out the door.

He left Grimmauld Place, his thoughts swimming. What was he going to say to Narcissa? Not the truth. He couldn’t. He almost felt bad, lying to that pathetic creature, but he had no idea how Narcissa would react to Regulus turning against the Dark Lord. He couldn’t risk it. Should he give it Dumbledore? He didn't even know what it was. It could be a trap.

And then there was Lucius. The Dark Lord had given him an old book. A book, and now a locket, and while the locket looked ancient and expensive, it was still just a locket. What could the Dark Lord possibly be doing with these mundane items?

Severus returned to Malfoy Manor, and the weight in his pocket felt warm, almost as if it were alive. He could hear moaning from somewhere nearby and stepped across the foyer towards the sound. He followed it to the sick room, pausing in the doorway to stare at Abraxas Malfoy. Lucius was gone, either finally to bed or bending his knee to the Dark Lord, Severus didn’t know which. The only one there was Dobby, who was trying to spoon soup into the old man’s mouth. This was the man Lucius wanted to be? Heartless, controlling, uncaring… A monster, maybe not in the same way Severus's father had been, but a monster just the same. Put me in my place, put me in my place. The thought spun around and around, and the heat against his thigh burned hot. Severus would show Abraxas exactly where his place was.

“Dobby, go see to Narcissa,” Severus ordered. “She isn’t feeling well. I’ll tend to Abraxas.”

Dobby nodded and with a pop he was gone.

Severus approached the bed and leaned over to look Abraxas in the eye. They were half-closed, bloodshot, but they were tracking Severus, following his movements. He was aware of his surroundings. A low whine whistled from his chest as he mouthed something out. It might have been 'water.' Severus brushed back his hair and patted Abraxas on the forehead. “You’re looking a little better,” he said. “The boils are draining well, no sign of infection. Maybe Lucius was right. Maybe you can beat it.”

Which was a shame. Dragonpox was a terrible way to go. Abraxas didn’t deserve a quick death, but needs must.

Severus ripped the pillow out from underneath Abraxas’s head and held it down over the old man’s face. He felt a hand push weakly against his arm, heard the shuffle of legs moving underneath the blanket, but Severus held fast. He felt Abraxas twitch underneath him, like he was having a seizure. And then he was still. Severus remained where he was, with the pillow pressed firmly against Abraxas’s mouth and nose. He counted, and after about twenty seconds, Abraxas’s unconscious body began to twitch again. It was his death throes. Eventually that too passed.

Severus removed the pillow and placed it gently back underneath Abraxas’s head, smoothing out the wrinkles where he had gripped it so fiercely. His face looked strange; as sickly as he was, there had still been life to him, but now his flesh hung limply from bones. The death pallor was quickly overtaking the corpse as his blood began to settle along the bottom of his body, no longer being circulated through a pumping heart. A mediwizard might cast a few preliminary spells to make sure Abraxas hadn’t died of a curse, but no one would think to check for non-magical causes of death. After all, he was just an old man with a case of dragonpox.

Chapter Text

Lily held his hand during the funeral, and it was the most she had touched him in weeks.

James watched as his parents were lowered into the ground. The sun was too bright, it made the polished wood of their coffins shimmer. He wanted the sky to be dark, like in stories. They lived a wonderful life together, he told himself over and over. It almost made up for their deaths, how they writhed in pain, the dragonpox spreading its green necrosis across their skin, filling their lungs with liquid until they couldn’t breathe, until they drowned without a drop of water around them.

He looked into the two yawning chasms, at the coffins, at the tombstone that bore the names Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, and remembered how much they had loved him, all the things they had done for him. What was he going to do now? How would he make it in this world without their support? The thought left him feeling horribly guilty; God, he really was spoiled, wasn’t he? They were dead and all he could think about was himself. How it affected him. They were his parents, for Merlin’s sake, he should– he should–

He didn’t know what to do.

Padfoot had his head bowed, half hidden by his hand, and cried. James’s parents had taken him in after he ran away from home; he was like a second son to them. James felt Moony clasp him on the shoulder, a mumbled “sorry,” from Peter, and Lily was there, squeezing his arm, “Come on, James, it’s time to go.”

He followed her like a lost puppy, to the house his parents had paid for, let her take off his tie, his robes, his shoes, and he sat on their marriage bed and let her. She did it the Muggle way, with her hands, instead of with just a quick flick of her wand. Everywhere she touched, his skin burned. She turned away from him and, afraid that she was leaving forever, reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head against her stomach. Her fingers felt soft as they ran through his hair and she made little shushing noises, like he was a child.

“We should have a baby,” James said, his voice muffled by her robes.

It must have taken a second or two for her brain to catch up with the words he said, because she kept stroking his hair and then… stopped. Frozen. Her entire body grew stiff beneath his hands. And then she was gone, ripping free from his hold, shaking her head as she stared at him like he had grown a second head.

“No,” she said. Just that one word: no. No discussion, no compromise, just an unyielding no.

“Why not?” He demanded. “We’ve been doing so much better lately. I thought– I thought you wanted to stay.”

“James, your parents were sick. They were dying! I wasn’t going to leave you to face that alone. But that doesn’t mean I want to stay married. We’re getting a divorce, James.”

“I never agreed to that!”

“You don’t have to agree!” She snapped. “You can’t control me! God, it used to drive me crazy at school. The way you competed with Sev, like I was something that could be won– ”

“When did Snivellus suddenly become ‘Sev’ again?” James mocked, standing up to face her. “And don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the attention. You let yourself be a prize.”

“Fuck you, James,” she said and turned around to leave, but James wasn’t finished.

“Are you having an affair?” He demanded to know.

She whipped around, her red hair flying. “What?”

“Are. You. Having. An. Affair?”

“No!”

James stormed past her, across the hall and into the guest bedroom that Lily had been sleeping in these past few months. “I know you’re sending packages from a secret address in London, and I know you’re receiving packages too. Like–” He looked around, found what he was searching for on her nightstand beside her bed. “This!” He held up a green book, old but well-taken care of, something called Anne of Green Gables. “Who sent you this? Why go through the trouble of hiding it!?”

Her wand was out before he could even blink, and with a quick Accio the book flew from his hands and into hers. She clutched it to her. “It’s mine! Tuney found it in our old bedroom and sent it to me.”

“Then why didn’t she mail it here? Why go through the trouble of using a proxy address in London?”

“And how would you even know that, James?” She demanded, twisting the accusation back onto him. “Are you stalking me?”

“You’re my wife!”

“A wife is not a possession!” Lily screamed. She snapped her mouth shut, her teeth clicking together, and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m going to stay with my parents.”

She grabbed her purse and began shrinking down her possessions so that they would fit inside. James bitterly noted that she took Anne of Green Gables with her.

After she had finished packing, she turned and walked out the door without even so much as a backwards glance at him, and that sent a shock of fear through his heart. “What am I going to tell the guys?” He asked as he followed her downstairs.

“Tell them whatever you want. Tell them I’m a bitch. Tell them I cheated on you. I don’t care what you do anymore.” And with that she apparated away before he could reach out and touch her.

James said nothing to the Marauders. If he didn’t say anything, then it wasn’t real. And, anyway, she might come back. She was going to come back.

He threw back his drink, warily eyeing Padfoot who looked as if he had started early that night. He didn’t want him to pass out on the table, or piss himself, both things that had happened before because Sirius never knew his limits, never knew when to just stop. And he had been doing so well lately too. But now–

Well, James didn’t blame him for falling off the wagon after a day like today.

“I just don’t know what I did wrong–” Wormtail was complaining, while Moony listened sympathetically. “Dumbledore won’t give me any more missions except for milk runs. I’m not even told about most Order meetings. I mean, I know I’m not the best duelist or whatever, but I don’t think I’ve ever messed up too badly. Why doesn’t he trust me anymore?”

It was weird, he had to admit. It was subtle, but it was there. McGonagall had always been kind to Peter, he had always needed the extra help, but now she was short with him. Brusque. Moody’s false eye seemed to follow him everywhere, and Dumbledore… James had asked Dumbledore about Peter and his old Headmaster had just said, “I’m not sure if Peter is right for the Order. I need people I can rely on.”

“Then why not just tell him?” James asked. “Why string him along?”

Dumbledore had just given him an enigmatic smile and said, “Who knows? He might surprise us.”

James planned on getting completely, thoroughly drunk that night. Drunk enough to forget his parents, drunk enough to forget Lily, when all of that flew out the window. Each Order member had been given a token, something small and innocuous that could be used as a signal. His was an old knut that was so worn it was completely smooth. It rested in his pocket, and most times James forgot it was even there until he felt it pulse with magic. He stiffened at the sensation. Dumbledore was calling for him.

He glanced around, but his friends remained oblivious. Sirius’s head was sinking closer and closer to the table, Remus was patting Peter on the back while the other man continued to whine. Dumbledore wasn't calling for the Marauders, he was calling for James. He quickly finished the rest of his drink and stood up. “It’s been a hard day, guys, I’m just not up for it. I’ll talk to you all in the morning.”

Moony stood half-way out of his chair, but James waved him back down. “Are you sure?” He asked.

“Yeah, you guys stay. I’m tired. See you.”

As soon as he left the pub, he apparated just outside of Hogwarts, a few feet into the Forbidden Forest. He pulled out the Invisibility Cloak that he almost always kept on him and threw it over himself before making his way to the castle, where Dumbledore was waiting.

The castle was empty, most of the students having gone home to ride out the dragonpox epidemic there, but despite this James wasn’t taking any chances. He didn’t take the cloak off until he had reached Dumbledore’s office, where he found the man pacing in front of his desk. “What do you need, Headmaster?” James asked.

Dumbledore stopped his pacing and turned to look at James with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re an adult now, James, and no longer one of my students. I think you can call me Albus.”

James felt his cheeks grow pink. “Err, right. Of course. Albus.” It still felt weird to say.

He smiled at James, but that twinkle soon went out of his eyes and he looked at the man in front of him with a grave, heavy gaze. “You have my deepest condolences, James. Your parents were good people. I knew them for a long time.”

A stab of grief pierced his heart, and he swallowed thickly. He couldn’t think about it right now. He wanted to forget. “Thank you, Headmaster, but I don’t think you summoned me here just because of my parents.”

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t have asked you if there was anyone else–”

“I know the funeral–”

“I’m not referring to that. James, I need you to take an oath not to reveal anything you learn about this night. Not to Lily, and not to your friends, do you understand me?”

James nodded. “I swear.”

“Do you swear on your magic?”

“I swear on my magic.”

Dumbledore looked stonily at him for a long moment, and then he said, “I need you to know that if there was anyone else who was capable of performing this task, I would have asked them.” Dumbledore pursed his lips. “But there isn’t anyone, other than Sirius Black, and you are the lesser of two evils.”

James stood still and quiet, not understanding what Dumbledore was saying, until the man pulled out a torn sheaf of parchment from his desk. He handed it to James. There was a scribbled message on it, an ink blot where the writer had scratched it out in a hurry–

A. is dead, N. very sick. Have dark artifacts from YKW. I think they are influencing L. He is not acting like himself. He’s paranoid. He won’t let me leave, not even to go to Diagon Alley. I don’t trust his state of mind. I want these objects gone. Get them out of my house. I don’t care how you do it. You promised to help me, so help me.

James looked up at Dumbledore in confusion. “I don’t understand. What are they talking about? Who sent you this?”

“Severus Snape sent it to me,” he said, and he watched the expressions that flitted across James’s face in rapid succession. “He has provided me with information on Voldemort and his followers before, and now he has managed to obtain two objects of dark origin that belonged to Voldemort.”

“But– but he’s dark! He’s a Death Eater!” James sputtered.

“He isn’t. He’s proven that, and that is all you need to know on that matter.”

“Even if he isn’t a Death Eater, he’s married to one! How can you trust anything he says!?”

“I trust him, and I expect you to trust him. If you can’t, then you have no business being in the Order,” Dumbledore said, his voice cold and harsh.

James snapped his mouth shut at the sudden change in demeanor. Dumbledore had never talked to him like that before. Dumbledore stood up and continued, “This is exactly why I didn’t want you, but despite that both Severus and I need you. You are the best member I have at infiltration. You have your cloak, your Animagi form, and most importantly, you’ve been to Malfoy Manor before. You won’t be going in blind. No one except Sirius Black can claim the same, and if I don’t want you to do this job, I want him less. You need to get over your prejudices, and retrieve those dark artifacts Severus spoke of, and you are to do it without harming him or insulting him. I don’t even want that schoolboy nickname you gave him to pass your lips, am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then go. Time is of the essence. I fear what might be happening inside that place.”

There were some nights that Prongs thought he could stay a stag forever. He was powerful, and strong, his body moving rapidly through the trees with a precision and grace that he only ever felt while on a broom. Those nights, his human body disgusted him.

It was always worse in the autumn months of September and October, when he could hear the roaring of the stags from the fog-covered forest, herding their harem of hinds to grassy stands.

Cold air blew from his muzzle as he came to stand at the edge of the Malfoy estate. He could see the sprawling gardens and the outline of the house. He had come along to the side of the house where he knew the family suites must be. He’d only been to the manor a few times for appearances’ sake; he was, after all, a Potter, and before You-Know-Who came to power not even the Malfoys would snub such a rich and influential Pureblood family, regardless of politics. He remembered the first level fairly well: the parlors, the dining room, the ballroom. Not well enough to risk apparating, even if he wasn’t worried about the sound alerting anyone. And while he had never actually gone past the public rooms, he had a fair idea of how the upper stories were probably laid out. There’d be the master bedroom, joined to the mistress’s bedroom by a sitting room and maybe even a bathroom. A concubine’s suite would sit fairly close to the master bedroom, for easy access.

Prongs drifted closer to the manor, making sure to pause and rummage every once in a while, in case someone looked out the window. The air was still, not even a light breeze, and he couldn’t risk pulling out the invisibility cloak until he had cleared the tall grass. If anyone looked out, they would see it moving all on its own, but if he was a deer– that was normal. Not even worth a second glance.

He came up on the lawn, walking until he was hidden by a large stone fountain, and transformed back into James. He shook out the wrong wrong wrong feeling that crawled up his limbs and pulled out his cloak, ducking underneath it. He made his way along the grounds, coming up the stairs to the front entrance, and with a simple Alohomora the door unlocked. He was a little surprised by the lack of outside wards, but after all who would be stupid enough to break into Malfoy Manor? James Potter, that’s who.

That’s not to say there weren’t any traps lying in wait just beyond the front door.

James could feel the prickle of magic crawling over his skin as he took in the sight of the beautiful objects scattered around the vast estate. He knew the items looked more beautiful than they should– too beautiful. He itched to touch one, to pick one up. That vase there, made of bone white china and painted with gold leaf, or the silver harp glittering in one corner. A curse, he thought. A curse for thieves. He wondered what would happen if he gave into the temptation and touched one of these beautiful objects. Knowing Malfoy, it’d probably melt his eyeballs or something.

He resisted the hypnotic pull and continued on his way until he came upon the grand staircase. He climbed up the stairs, slowly, careful not to let the wood squeak underneath his feet, and made it up to the second floor. He saw a pair of ornately carved double doors that must lead to the master bedroom, and a little ways down one hall he saw another set of doors. Less ostentatious, almost hidden among the wood paneling, but still finely carved. If he had to guess, this is where a concubine would sleep. He tried the door and found it unlocked. It creaked open and he saw Snape sitting on a sofa, reading a book in a finely furnished sitting room papered in dark blue silk.

The man had changed in some ways in the intervening years since James last saw him, and in other ways he was exactly the same. There was that same nose, but it fit his face better now that he had some flesh on his cheeks. His skin was no longer that sickly sallow color, and his hair was clean, but still long enough to brush the top of his shoulders. When Padfoot first told James about Snape and Malfoy, he couldn’t understand why Malfoy would do it. No matter what kind of power the Prince line had, who would want to fuck that greasy git? This Snape, though not what anyone would call classically handsome, wasn’t that bad looking. If he didn’t know Snivellus to also be dark and kind of batshit crazy, he could almost see the appeal.

James closed the door, and the sound made Snape look up, his eyes growing comically wide when he pulled the cloak from his head. And then those dark, black eyes narrowed, his teeth gnashing like an animal. There’s my Snivellus, James thought as Snape leapt to his feet, ready to attack.

He didn’t expect him to throw his book at his head, though.

“Ow, what the fuck!” James hissed, just barely managing to doge out of the way as the heavy tome hit the door with a thud. Snape didn’t answer, just pulled out his wand, and James – not wanting to disobey Dumbledore’s explicit order this early in his mission – held the letter aloft for Snape to see. “Dumbledore sent me! I’m here to help!”

Snape kept his wand pointed at him, that wild look in his eyes never leaving as he stared hard at James’s raised hands, at the letter he clutched in one fist. “You did say you didn’t care how it was done, so long as the objects were gone,” James pointed out.

Snape lowered his wand a fraction of an inch. “Say or do anything, and I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“Come on, Snape, we’re both adults now. Shouldn’t we act like it?” James said with all the sweetness in the world, and it sent a little thrill up his spine to see the other man’s pale skin flush red with rage.

He barely had time to register the curse being flung at him until he felt his lips seal together, his flesh knitting themselves into a knot. Snape walked up to him, slow and languid, “Such manners from someone who willingly walked right into enemy territory,” he drawled, his face only inches from James’s. “Do you know what Lucius would do if he found you here? What the Dark Lord would do?”

He knew it. He knew it. That lying, greasy bastard–

Snape reached into his pocket, and James fumbled for his wand, suddenly aware that he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t recite any incantations. And then– there was something silver shimmering in front of his face. It took him a second for his eyes to focus on the swinging locket. “So, I suggest you learn to keep your mouth shut while you’re here,” Snape hissed.

The skin that had knitted itself over his mouth tore free with a painful snap. He could taste blood on his lips. Snape let the locket drop into James’s outstretched palm, and he ran a finger over the green gemstones. “Tell Black his brother died getting that,” Snape said.

“What is it?” James asked, licking his lips clean of blood.

“I don’t know. It’s dark, whatever it is. It affects people. It took me a while to figure that out. The effects get worse the closer it is to the other one.”

“Another locket?”

“No, some sort of book. I haven’t been able to get a good look at it. Lucius keeps it hidden in his bedroom, right next to where he sleeps. Come, he’s gone to a meeting, it should be safe to retrieve it.”

Snape brushed past him, and James ducked underneath his cloak again and followed him back into the hall. As soon as they had entered the master bedroom, James took it off and watched as Snape moved toward the bed. “How do you know where he hides it?”

“The locket feels warm, doesn’t it? Come here, it gets hotter the closer it gets to the book.”

James walked up to the headboard of the giant, four poster bed, and just as Snape said the locket burned hot in his hand. Snape felt around the wood panels, muttering, “There must be a secret panel here.”

“When you say it affects people, what do you mean?” James asked, while Snape worked.

“It makes people paranoid, angry, violent even.”

James ran his thumb over the gemstones again, took a breath, already regretting what he was about to ask, “You said that it’s affecting Malfoy… How is he treating you?”

Snape threw a withering glare over his shoulder. “Don’t pretend like you care.”

“Fine. Go to Hell then.” He waited a second, then two. And then, unable to stop himself, “He’s not… beating you or anything, is he?”

“Why? Upset that it’s not you doing the beating anymore?” That darkness had returned to Snape’s voice, and James knew he was treading on treacherous ground. “Unlike you, Lucius Malfoy has never physically harmed me.”

There was the jab he had expected, but there was also an unexpected weight behind the words physically harming. Implying that Malfoy does other things to Snape.

Something clicked and one of the wood panels swung open. Snape reached in and withdrew a plain, leatherbound book from its depths. James took it from his hand and flipped through it. “It’s blank. It’s just an old diary that nobody bothered to write in.”

Snape stared at it in confusion. “I–” He snapped his mouth shut and they both jumped when they heard footsteps outside the room. “Hide!” He whispered and leaned over the bed to close the secret panel once more. James dove into a corner of the room, throwing the invisibility cloak over himself, just before Lucius Malfoy entered.

James forced himself to control his breathing, trying to ignore the burning in his hands as he clutched both book and locket to his chest, while Snape remained standing beside the bed. Malfoy looked terrible. His eyes were hollow, and his yellowed flesh sagged off his cheekbones. He looked like a man who had been hitting the bottle hard… or a man poisoned by dark, cursed objects. He did a double-take when he saw Snape standing there and gave a snort as he threw his outer robes onto a nearby chair.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Waiting for you,” Snape said, and if James thought he was going to distract Malfoy by playing the coquette, he was sorely mistaken. “You can’t keep us locked in here forever, Lucius. Bring down the wards so we can apparate, or restore the Floo Network. Narcissa is sick. She needs to go to St. Mungo’s.”

“She’s better off here, and so are you! I’m not risking either of my children! This discussion is over. If there’s nothing else, you can return to your own suite.”

Either of his children? Was Snape pregnant? He saw Snape glance in his direction, could almost see the thoughts turning in his brain. He couldn’t just leave; James would be trapped. He’d be found out, and then it would be both their hides. You-Know-Who would kill them both, pregnant or not.

“Lucius,” Snape tried again, making his normally harsh voice sound softer. James had never heard Snape sound like that before. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“That’s your own fault.”

“Please… I miss when we were friends.”

Malfoy paused and looked up at Snape. “You said you didn’t respect me.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

“We can’t go back to the way we were, not until you learn to respect me.”

“Then earn it,” Snape said with a defiant tilt of his chin. “Treat me the way I should have been treated. No potions.”

Malfoy stared at him for a moment, then crossed the room in great, ground-eating steps until he was standing in front of Snape, cupping his face. “Do you mean it? Do you want to?” He asked, over and over.

Snape reached for the door, twisting it open. “Let’s go to my suite–” he said, pulling Malfoy by the waist, trying to lead him out of the room, while Malfoy tangled his fingers in that black hair.

He tore one hand away from Snape to close the door forcefully shut. “No. Here.” He pulled open the collar on Snape’s robes, kissing down the long column of neck that was slowly revealed.

“It’s not right. Narcissa–” Snape tried again. He had to get Malfoy out of the room.

“She can’t hear anything.” He pushed Snape toward the bed and James realized, oh, this is really happening. His mind felt torn in all different directions. He knew it must be humiliating for Snape, knowing that James was right there in the room, watching this all go down, and there was a part of him that was horrified on Snape’s account. Or maybe, horrified for his own sake, he wasn’t sure. He knew he should close his eyes, give Snape some privacy, however little it may be. It was the decent thing to do, but James had never been particularly decent, had he? Especially not to Snape.

Malfoy was eager, he didn’t bother removing their robes completely, just vanished what was underneath them. James watched as Snape parted his long, pale legs. His mouth was pressed in a hard, thin line, his breath coming in quick, shallow pants through his nose as Malfoy moved between those legs. He’s afraid, James thought, and then Snape let out a shriek when Malfoy ducked his head beneath his robe. He couldn’t see what was happening, the black robe obscuring most of it, but James had a good idea about what was going on. Better than Snape, it seemed. Snape looked confused, his hands moving like he didn’t know where to put them, one of them finally coming up to grip his own hair. They’d been married for years, had Malfoy really never sucked Snape off before now? Somehow, his opinion of Malfoy sank even lower.

For all their fighting and arguing, that was one thing Lily never complained about. James had always prided himself on being a generous lover. If he had Snape under him, there’d be no confusion. Snape’s fingers would be tangled in James’s hair, not his own, pulling with those sharp, quick movements that he used when dueling. He’d–

James realized how dangerous line of thinking was. He was hard and aching. For Snape.

Malfoy lifted his head and replaced it with his hand, using his fingers to stretch Snape. Hardly any time had passed, and then Malfoy was moving up the lean line of Snape’s body, pulling at his legs to get him to wrap them around his waist. James had just enough time to think, that wasn’t enough prep, before Malfoy sank into Snape with a groan.

Snape kept quiet, and James had no idea if he was enjoying it or not, but Snape’s arms came up to wrap around Malfoy’s shoulders and he buried his face in the other man’s neck as Malfoy rocked into him. Slowly at first, and then faster, harder, while Snape held on for dear life. It didn’t take long; Malfoy finished quickly and let himself sink on top of Snape, his heavy panting making that midnight black hair move with every breath he exhaled. After a few seconds, Snape pushed gently at him, and Malfoy rolled off. Snape quickly pushed his robes back down, and pulled down the blankets, arranging them around Malfoy who already looked half-asleep. Malfoy took Snape’s hand and stopped him with a mumbled, “Stay?”

“I can’t sleep here. That’s only for Narcissa,” Snape whispered back, and this time Malfoy didn’t put up a fight. He let Snape slip away.

Snape opened the door and hovered beside it, as if to watch Malfoy as he fell asleep, but James knew it for what it was: his chance to escape. He dashed as quietly as he could, and the moment he brushed past Snape, the other man shut the door behind them. James thought he should say something – anything – to make the situation less awkward, but before anything could come to his brain, Snape turned quickly on his heel and went back to his suite, closing the door quickly behind him.

James left, taking the locket and the diary with him.

Chapter Text

Severus noticed a change almost immediately. Lucius slept ten hours straight the night after Potter left with the diary and locket. He’d barely been sleeping at all before that. Napping for an hour or two, before getting up to wander the manor, checking and re-checking the wards. Not that Severus had been much better; he had jumped at shadows, heard whispers, and no matter how long he left the windows open the stench of beer permeated throughout his suite.

It only took a few days after that to get him to let down the wards and reestablish the Floo Network. “Narcissa needs a mediwizard,” Severus said to him after getting her to drink some fluids. She swallowed thickly, and from the greenish tint (not dragonpox, please don't be dragonpox, he thought) he knew it would soon be coming back up. She couldn’t keep anything down; she was losing weight and nothing Severus could brew seemed to make a bit of difference.

“I’ll send for one,” Lucius said, looking down at her with clear worry in his eyes.

“You’ll take her to St. Mungo’s,” Severus ordered, and then, just to drive the knife in, he said, “Maybe your father would still be alive if you had left him there, like the nurse suggested.”

Lucius snapped his mouth shut, guilt etched into the lines in his face that Severus hadn’t remembered being there before the diary, before his father’s death. “Alright, she’ll go to St. Mungo’s. I'll take her, you stay here. There's still an epidemic outside and I don't want to expose both of you."

Lucius pressed his mouth against his, and Severus allowed the kiss, turning his mouth into a smile when Lucius pulled away, the kind he thought couples in love might give each other. He did think it funny that after everything – after having a child – he'd finally gotten his first kiss at the age of nineteen. When he was a kid, he imagined Lily would be his first kiss. That, one day, he would finally get the courage to tell her how he felt. But… well, he wasn't a kid anymore, and he didn't think Lucius was bad at kissing, or sex. At the very least, it didn't hurt, which is more than he could say about his past experiences. But standing still while Lucius put his hands on him made his skin crawl. He wasn't used to just letting it happen. He had always fought before, even when he knew he'd come out of it bloodier than if he just submitted.

"Oh, you got another package. A Carpe Noctem album this time. It's on the side table in the foyer. I'll let you know what the mediwizard says," Lucius said as he helped Narcissa put on her cloak. She mouthed the words thank you to Severus, and then they were gone with a crack!

Severus tried not to look too eager as he went downstairs where the album was waiting. Lucius had opened his package – and he should be angry that Lucius felt entitled enough to go through his mail, but Severus had known about that flaw as far back as when they had been at Hogwarts and couldn't muster up the energy to care – but luckily he hadn't bothered to actually take the record out. He wouldn't be happy to know that Severus was smuggling Muggle music into his house, and if he ever found out who was sending them…

Severus peeked into the sleeve. Cream's Disraeli Gears this time and…

He reached in and pulled out a piece of parchment that had been stuffed inside. It was a London address.

His heart thudded inside his chest, and he felt like an idiot, like that stupid child again, that after all this time, after everything that had happened between them, marrying Potter, he still wanted to see Lily, desperately. Maybe he wasn't as grown-up as he liked to think he was. Maybe people never really grew up. But there was fear snaking through him too. Why did she want to see him now? What had Potter told her?

He called Dobby and informed he was going out, gave him instructions on what to do with Leah and apparated to London.

It took him a while to find the location, but when he finally did, he was surprised. It was an apartment in a middle-class Muggle neighborhood, not exactly the sort of the thing he’d expect from someone as wealthy and influential as Mrs Potter. He transfigured his clothes into something less conspicuous: just a black shirt and trousers. He took the lift to the fifth floor, found the apartment number and knocked on the door. He only had a few seconds to think, what if she isn’t there? I should have figured out a way to send a note first, at least give her a warning– when the door swung open and there she was.

She was thinner than he remembered, her big green eyes somehow looking even larger on her pretty face. They raked over him, taking in all the changes that could be seen from the outside that had sprung up in their years apart. Those green eyes eventually lifted – it was funny, looking down on her, they had been of a similar height once – and settled on his face, staying there. “I–” She stuttered. “You’re here! I can’t believe it! C-come in–” and he was being ushered inside a bare flat, filled with packing boxes. There were a few stacked in a corner, and he could read “dishes” and “bedroom” and “books” scrawled across the sides in her neat handwriting.

“You and Potter live here?” He asked, and he hadn’t meant to sound so incredulous, but the idea of James Potter living in a place like this, no matter how well-kept, just did not make any sense.

Lily gave a derisive snort. “How things have changed. Gotten used to Malfoy Manor, have you?”

Severus shut his mouth. He’d forgotten how sensitive Lily could be; they both were, which made for some explosive fights in their youth.

Lily must have been thinking the same thing, because she quickly changed the subject. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I wasn’t sure if, well you hear rumors about Malfoy–” Severus turned away, and Lily, catching the look, swiftly changed tracks. Severus wondered just how much Potter had told her. “Do you want anything? I have… water. No chairs yet, but uh, hold on–” she charmed the boxes to stack themselves into something vaguely chair-shaped for the pair of them. “That should do.”

“Thank you, I’m fine,” he said and took a seat. She nodded and took the other across from him.

They were silent for a few seconds. Lily kept glancing off to the side, her face growing steadily redder. Sometimes she would open her mouth, as if she was going to say something, only to close it again. He knew both she was part of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix; Potter must have told her about his mission to retrieve the diary and locket. But did he tell her what he had been forced to do? Had Potter laughed about it with his friends afterward? Had she laughed too? He couldn’t stand not knowing; it was better to just face it head-on. “I don’t know what exactly Potter said, but I had to keep Lucius distracted, it wasn’t as if I wanted to– not with him there– and—”

He trailed off when he noticed Lily’s mounting confusion. “What?” She asked. “What about James?”

Had he really not told her? Maybe Potter was just as embarrassed as he was. “I asked Dumbledore to remove a pair of dark items from the Manor. They had something to do with the Dark Lord. Potter was sent to retrieve them and– it didn’t go exactly right, but the objects were removed, and no one was hurt.”

“You’re in contact with Dumbledore?” She asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes… didn’t he tell you? He did tell you about Pettigrew, didn’t he?” And, seeing that her confusion remained, he continued, a little alarmed. “Pettigrew is a spy… a Death Eater. Regulus Black told me, and I informed Dumbledore. I thought you knew, I thought that’s why you started sending me those messages, that you approved of what I did.” He suddenly looked alarmed. “You haven’t… you haven’t been alone with Pettigrew, have you?”

Her continued silence was all he needed to know.

After a moment’s pause, she said, in a dull voice that barely masked the rage he knew that must be boiling inside of her. “I didn’t think it that strange, when Dumbledore called on Peter less and less. Peter was clumsy, Peter talked too much, and there had been a couple of… incidents on a few of his missions.”

“But why not just remove him altogether?” Severus asked, and Lily laughed darkly, knowing full well what he meant by ‘remove.’

“Maybe Dumbledore is worried that You-Know-Who will find a different way to spy on the Order,” she said and her eyes flickered to Severus.

He couldn’t help but stiffen, immediately going on the defensive before an accusation could be thrown. “You contacted me, not the other way around.”

“I know that!” She snapped and, getting defensive herself, she turned the conversation onto him. “I’m just– that man was in my house and now you’re telling me he’s a spy and that Dumbledore knew!? Why didn’t I know about this!? And you– you’ve apparently been on secret missions with my husband? And what the hell did you mean when you said that it didn’t ‘go to plan’ anyway?”

“It was nothing. Potter was under that invisibility cloak of his, trapped in a room with Lucius. I had to– I slept with him to keep him distracted, so that Potter could escape.” He glared at her. “Like I said, it was nothing.”

She softened under his gaze. “You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“What? Sleep with Lucius? I’ve been his concubine for three years now. It wasn’t like it was the first time.”

It had been the second time, and he couldn’t actually remember the first, not that Lily needed to know that.

“Sev,” she said, using that old nickname. “I didn’t ask you here just to fight.”

“Then what for? To catch up?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” She shot him a crooked smile, but it wilted under his glare. “I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking lately. About who I am, and who I was. I’m not… happy. I wanted to know if you were. If you were at least… safe.”

“Safe from whom? Lucius? The Dark Lord?” He sneered, but seeing the sad, wide-eyed look on her face, he softened. “It is what it is,” he said, gentler this time, but still dodging her question. “I made my decision.”

“When did it even start anyway?”

“When did what start?”

“You and Malfoy.” She pinched her mouth. “It wasn’t when he was still in school, was it?”

Oh, that old story again. “Lucius isn’t my daughter’s father.”

“He’s not?” She asked. “Then who…? It isn’t–” She shook her head. “Black told me there were rumors in Pureblood circles about a Muggle, but it couldn’t–”

“And why not?” Severus asked.

“Are you saying it’s true? That her father is a Muggle?” Her voice was rising again, that temper flaring. “You call me a mudblood, and then you fuck a Muggle?”

“Not by choice!” He snapped back, matching her anger. She shrank back at his words, and he thought briefly, what have I done? Why did I say that? He didn’t want her to know. He never wanted her to know, but truth was a funny thing. Having told Dumbledore the truth, he found it easier to do now. There was almost a perverse sort of pleasure in it, to force Dumbledore, and Lily, everyone, to open their eyes and see– “Being stripped by Potter, having everyone look at my body– it felt just like when he stripped me, when he looked at me. At that moment, I did hate you. I hated everything Muggle, everything that reminded me of him–”

She had her head buried in her hands, back hunched, elbows braced on her knees, her red hair fanning all around her. “Your father?” She asked, her voice muffled. He couldn’t see her eyes.

Severus hesitated, but it seemed like she didn’t actually need to hear the confirmation. She lifted her head up, eyes red. “I’m sorry.”

Severus shrugged, uncomfortable.

“I wish you had told me.”

“It was a long time before I realized it wasn’t normal, that most fathers didn’t do that. I just assumed yours did it too.” Lily looked green at the thought, and she swallowed thickly. “It wasn’t until we got to Hogwarts that I learned that wasn’t true. I was… ashamed, and angry, and jealous. You had this perfect life, and it wasn’t fair. You had a nice house, a loving father, friends– I didn’t want you to be any more ashamed of me than you were.”

"I wasn't ashamed..." She trailed off at his glare, not able to complete the lie. “Fifth year was a bad year–” Lily sighed.

“No, it started before then,” Severus corrected. “Third year, at least. Do you remember when we used to collect pond scum and newt eyes for potions behind the canal?”

Lily cracked a smile. “Oh yeah, I’d almost forgotten. I’d come home covered in mud and Mum would get so mad.”

“You were never squeamish. You’d take a pocketknife and gut the frogs right there, laughing when you'd hit the nervous system and make their legs kick, even though they were dead. But in third year, you changed. Suddenly, in potions, you no longer wanted to chop ingredients. You’d make me do it. You’d make these exaggerated gagging noises and told me it was gross. You didn’t want to be associated with the weird Slytherin boy anymore.”

“I was a stupid thirteen-year-old girl,” Lily said with another sigh. “I wanted to fit in with the rest of my roommates.”

Severus thought about how he’d laugh along to things Mulciber and Avery would say, no matter how disgusting or cruel some of those things were. “So did I.”

They were quiet again until Lily said, her voice forcefully cheerful, “Tell me about your daughter. What’s her name?”

“Leah. I have a feeling she’s going to grow up thinking her full name is Leah-Anne-Stop-What-You’re-Doing-This-Instant Snape, I say it so often.”

Lily laughed. “What does she look like?”

“Like me, unfortunately.”

“Hey!” She reached over with one leg and kicked his foot. “Don’t say that. There’s nothing ‘unfortunate’ about the way you look.”

Severus rolled his eyes.

“I mean it! I like your looks!” She blushed hotly, but Lily was nothing if not brave and she steamrolled ahead. “You don’t look like other men, but you are handsome. Your eyes… I’ve never seen eyes so dark–”

“Don’t let Potter hear you talk like that,” Severus quickly cut her off, feeling his face flame. He wished he had taken her up on that offer of water, just so he could hide his face behind the cup. “He never could stand the idea of us being friends, let alone you going on about my eyes or what have you–”

“Yes, well,” Lily coughed and looked to the side. “James and I are getting a divorce.” She gestured around her. “How do you like my new place? Doesn’t it just scream ‘no-good bitchy women’s lib divorcée?’”

Severus was thrown. “What? Why?”

“I figured you’d be happy about it.”

“Oh, I want Potter to die alone and miserable, yes, of course, but still– why?”

“I didn’t want to be a Pureblood wife, and James didn’t want to be a Muggle husband,” Lily confessed. “I wasn’t happy, and, to be honest, I don’t know what out there will make me happy. I don’t know who I am, really. Do you know this is the first time I’ve lived alone?” She leaned forward, bracing her chin in her hand again, contemplating. “I went straight from my parents’ house to my husband's. Everyone said we were perfect together, that we balanced each other out. They said he was romantic, sentimental, and a bit of a goofball, and I was practical, hardworking, and righteous. I don’t know, maybe we are those things, but we’re a lot of other things too. Things people either don’t know about, or refuse to talk about. We can both be cruel, we both have tempers, we both want things done our way and we both get so angry when the other person doesn’t follow the carefully laid plan we created for them in our heads.” She nudged his foot again. “I think that’s one of the reasons I was always so angry with you in school. You insisted on being your own person, and I couldn’t handle that.”

“Must be hard for you, knowing there's a whole world of people out there, living their lives without your input,” he teased.

“It sure has been! I’ve been getting better though. I’m just nineteen, and I still feel like such a kid. Who knows? Maybe next year I’ll be a real adult,” she laughed. “What about you? Who is Severus Snape now?”

Severus shook his head, sobering at the question as it turned over in his head. “I don’t know. I never thought about it. For so long I’ve been so focused on survival, and then Leah. I don’t even feel like an active participant in my own story. I just… react to things and hope it works out in the end.”

“Do you love Malfoy?” Lily quietly asked.

“God, no.”

A moment’s silence, and then, “Do you love me?”

“Lily–”

She stood up and walked over to him, forcing him to look up at her this time. “I’ve missed you,” she said. “More than I realized.”

“I won’t be your rebound–”

“James was my rebound, because you weren’t there anymore. I have never felt more comfortable with myself than when I’m with you. You’ve never flinched at the darker parts of my personality. You’ve always accepted me, everything about me…” She leaned down and kissed him. It was chaste, her lips pressed softly into his. Her hand hovered beside his face, hesitating, wondering if it would be accepted, but when he started kissing her back, she pressed it fully against his face, cupping his jaw, angling him upward so she could surge above him, open-mouthed, hungry. It was a strange sensation. Sex had always been something done to him, never with someone. Kissing her back lit some hidden spark inside him, and suddenly he wanted. He matched her intensity, small embers burning brighter, and–

The rush of feelings when he started kissing her back was almost enough to drown out the electric shock of magic that raced through him and suddenly he knew, knew in a way he hadn’t that morning after Lucius had drugged him– he’d broken the contract. He willingly returned Lily’s kiss; he had committed an act of infidelity. He broke it off with a gasp, squirming away from her to get to his feet. Lily was stumbling back, crying out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, don’t go! We can forget it ever happened–!”

“I have to get Leah,” he gasped, his panic growing. “I broke the contract, I have to get Leah out of that house before Lucius–”

Lily closed her mouth, realization slowly dawning on her. “I’ll go with you,” she said. “We’ll get her.”

Chapter Text

Severus shook his head. "No, it's better if I go alone."

"Let me help! It's my fault–"

Severus cut her off. "The contract didn't break when you kissed me," he said. "It broke when I kissed you back. I could have said no, I could have pushed you away, but I didn't. I wanted to kiss you. It was my choice, and I haven't had the chance to make many of those. Don't take it away from me."

He apparated away, leaving Lily standing there alone in her empty apartment. She didn't want to leave him to face Malfoy by himself; he had looked so afraid. What had life been like for him as Malfoy's concubine? Sev had always so secretive, never giving any hint to what his father had been doing behind closed doors. She didn't want this to be another thing that Severus only let slip out years after the fact, when it was too late to help. She wanted him to have someone, anyone, he could rely on, and she knew she hadn't been that person, not for a long time at least, but she wanted to be. She couldn't change what happened in the past, but she could affect the present; she could be better.

And she wasn't going to abandon him again.

She didn't like the idea of him going in alone, unable to contact anyone if anything went wrong. She had a terrible feeling that this might be the last time she ever saw him. That he would disappear like so many Muggleborns, and never knowing what happened to him. But she also knew Severus wouldn't thank her if she busted into Malfoy Manor, wands blazing. It would only put him and his daughter in danger. She had to be smart about it.

She didn't want to ask him, but she now knew there was one man who could get into and out of Malfoy Manor quietly and without being seen. 

Lily had only just appeared in the front garden when James came hurrying out the door to meet her. "Hey, I, uh, I'm surprised to see you," he said, nervously running his fingers through his already messy hair. "Did you want to–"

"There's trouble, I need your help," she said, cutting him off. Her voice held that same quality she used in Order meetings, and without any conscious thought James immediately stood straighter, his face hardening like a good little soldier for the Light.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"It's Sev. Snape," she corrected, not wanting to get drawn into an argument for using the old nickname. "I know about your mission to Malfoy Manor, I know what happened there." He opened his mouth, but Lily plowed on, not giving him a chance to speak. "Sev– Snape broke his contract with Malfoy, and he was terrified– he's gone back to the manor to get his daughter, but I'm worried there will be trouble."

James gave her a funny look. "How did he break his contract?"

"Does that even matter right now!?"

"I can only think of a handful of ways a concubine can break their contract, either infertility or infidelity and since he's already got a kid I can guess which one it was," James snapped.

"This isn't about us, James! This is about him and his daughter! He told me what he did to make sure you got out of that house safely, you owe him." James looked down, his face flushing, hands on his hips.

"Alright," he said, after a moment. "How do you want to do this?"

"I don't want to rush in. We don't know what the situation is like. Let's just get there, see what we can tell from the outside, and go in quietly if we need to."

"Alright. I'll follow your lead," he said, and she had forgotten how easy it was to fall in-sync with him, now that they had a goal to focus on. He held out his hand and she took it, letting James's magic carry her through the fabric of space until her feet came into contact with wet, autumn leaves and thick, moss-covered tree roots. She blinked her eyes, taking in the old-growth forest, the dappled sunlight haloing James's handsome face.

Her heart was racing at the thought of another mission, her blood already pumping at the possibility of a fight. She was in-tune with James, the pair of them moving silently, without the need for words, as they crept closer to the edge. She could feel her blood pumping; she could feel his blood pumping, in tandem with hers, that mounting excitement creating a feedback loop. James almost didn't look human, out here, in this forest, but something more wild. Ancient.

They could see the edge of the forest just up ahead, a grassy hill that plunged into a sprawling garden and then, gray in the misty light, Malfoy Manor.

"You know…" James said, his voice hesitating. "You know how these types of contracts work, right?"

"Of course. Your parents offered to draw one up for us, remember?"

"It's not the same. You were my wife, Lily, my equal–" she tried not to let it hurt at the use of past tense, it was what she wanted after all. "Snape's a concubine. And, despite what you may think, my family and I were radicals compared to some Purebloods, like the Malfoys–"

"What are you getting at, James?"

"He might not be able to leave. There are magical consequences to breaking a contract like that, and I can guarantee they'll be worse for Snape than for Malfoy."

"What? He'll be bound to the house like a house elf?"

"No, probably not that. But he'll have to compensate Malfoy, and it's not always money that's owed. The law is on Malfoy's side; the Ministry will force Snape to uphold his end of the deal."

Lily looked at the sprawling estate. "The whole thing is barbaric."

"Yeah," James agreed. "It's why I never insisted you sign the one my parents gave you."

Lily was silent; she kept her eyes locked on the house, but nothing seemed amiss. There were no tell-tale sounds of magic being cast, or– Lily squinted, shielding her eyes against the light. There was a plume of smoke rising up from somewhere behind one of the gables. Was there a chimney she couldn't see?

"James," she said, her voice raising in alarm. The column of thick, black smoke was growing larger. This wasn't a chimney fire.

James had already pulled out his invisibility cloak and threw it over her. "Follow me down there," he said as his coarse, black hair grew ruddy, spreading down along his neck to cover his body. Antlers burst from his skull as he fell forward, his hands and feet already gone. Prongs bounded out of the forest, racing across the field, and Lily followed behind, hidden underneath his cloak.

Chapter Text

Severus knew Lucius had already returned from St. Mungo’s when he tried to apparate inside the manor, and found himself flung back onto the marble stairs leading up to the front entrance. He fell, feeling something tear in his ankle, but any thought of pain flew from his mind as he scrambled back up, throwing himself through the door. He raced up the grand staircase, towards the family wing, to his suite where Leah was waiting, only to slow when he saw the door to the master bedroom was wide open.

“Severus, come in,” Lucius called from his desk when he caught sight of the dark-haired man hovering by the door.

Lucius didn’t… sound angry. And he didn’t look angry either. He looked… very tired. A little like he had when the diary and locket were still in the house, but without that crazed, paranoid look in his eyes. He was sitting in the chair by his desk, his elbow braced against the surface and rubbing at his temples. He waved Severus to come closer. “This conversation has been long overdue, I think,” he said.

Severus remained just inside the door, hands stiff by his sides, close to his wand.

“Honestly, I can’t even really say I’m all that surprised, just disappointed. These past few days, with you cozying up to me the way you had, I thought you might actually be coming around. But really you just wanted to throw me off your scent. Who is it? I’ll admit, I’m curious. I can’t think of anyone it might be. You hardly ever go out.”

Severus threw a glance at the closed door that led to his own suite. Had Dobby put Leah down for her nap yet? He didn't want her to be awake, and even if she couldn't understand what was being said, she'd know they were fighting. “Lucius… it was just a kiss.”

“Kissing Leah goodnight… that is just a kiss. Kissing Narcissa on the cheek… that is just a kiss. It’s your intention that matters, and you intended to do a lot more than just kissing.”

He knew he needed to keep a cool head, that Leah needed him to be smart about this, but Severus couldn’t help the flare of anger rising up at Lucius’s words. “Intention!? What about your intention when you raped me!?”

“Severus, you are not an idiot,” Lucius chastised. “Of course my father drew up the contract to favor myself. You only asked that you not be harmed; honestly, even at sixteen, you should have known better. You should have been more specific.”

“I trusted you!”

Lucius sighed. “I know. I didn’t like it much myself when Father suggested it.”

“But you were happy to take advantage of the situation,” Severus sneered.

“Severus, believe it or not I don’t want to argue with you. I was happy having only Narcissa as my wife. I only agreed to all of this because my father wanted your blood, and because I felt sorry for you. I thought this was an arrangement that would be mutually beneficial for us, and if we found pleasure along the way so much the better. But it’s clear this situation has become untenable.” Lucius lifted his head. “I’m willing to forgo any and all expenses already paid to you. I won’t come after you for that. All I want is the child you now carry. Once you’ve delivered, we can go our separate ways. I’ll even pay for that potions mastery if you still want it, just like I promised. Otherwise, you’ll never have to hear from me or our child again.”

It was a good offer. A very generous offer. There was just the one problem– Severus lifted his chin defiantly. “I’m not pregnant.”

That drew Lucius up short. “What?” He asked, in a dead, monotone voice.

“I’m not pregnant. I lied.” Pure, malicious glee filled every word.

A crash penetrated through the air as Lucius reached over, grabbed his inkwell, and slammed it against his desk, shattering the glass across the polished surface. He leapt from his chair and pointed his wand at Severus’s stomach. Severus drew his own wand, but Lucius was quicker, the spell already on his lips.

Smoke curled in a lazy oval in front of Severus, painting a picture of his insides with its white tendrils, exposing his empty womb to Lucius's gaze. With another wave of his wand, both smoke and picture disappeared, leaving Lucius to stand there in front of Severus. He started to pace, up and down, up and down, and maybe there was only so much fear a person could take before they finally cracked, because Severus found it all hilarious. He bit back a laugh as he watched Lucius spiral deeper and deeper into a burning rage.

“I am owed a child,” he snapped.

“And how do you plan on getting it, Lucius?” Severus taunted. “Is the Ministry going to throw me in debtor’s prison for non-delivery of payment? Maybe they’ll have you mount me in front of the entire Wizengamot, just to make sure it took this time.” He threw back his head and laughed. He was pretty sure Dumbledore was on the Wizengamot. He could only imagine the look on the old man's face were that to happen.

“Oh, I wouldn’t laugh,” Lucius bit back. “Maybe they’ll douse you with a lust potion to make you compliant. Wouldn’t that be a sight. Proud, frigid Severus Snape, begging for it.”

“I won’t do it. I’ll pay you back every galleon I took even if it takes me the rest of my life, but I won’t go through with it.”

“You will. Or I’ll keep Leah.”

All traces of humor vanished from Severus’s face. “You can’t! She’s not yours to keep!”

Lucius was gripping his wand so tightly, Severus was sure it was going to snap in half. “You really are completely unaware of all that I’ve sacrificed for you, aren’t you? Do you realize you’ve destroyed my reputation!? Everyone is already convinced that I’m that child’s father, that I deflowered a teenage boy and impregnated him! Do you know the looks I get when I go out, the rumors that are spread about me!? I was denied a position on the Hogwarts Board of Governors because they were convinced I’d only use it as a means to touch the children! I am owed a child, and I will get one! The contract states that I get to keep any children I father in the event you are the one to break it! I don’t even want the little mudblood, but if everyone already thinks I’m that girl’s father, then what does it matter if I publicly claim her!”

“I’ll dispute it!” Severus promised. “I’ll take Veritaserum and swear before the Ministry that you are not the father!”

Lucius grinned viciously at Severus, as if he had just pulled out a trump card. “Then you’ll have to tell the courts who is the father, or else they’ll cast a paternity spell on the girl. Either way, the truth will come out. Claiming a one-night stand with some random, nameless Muggle? That was such an unbelievably transparent lie. Did you really think I would fall for it? Tell me, who was it really? I always suspected the real father was Narcissa’s cousin, the crazy one. He was strangely obsessed with you, back in school. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got off on torturing you. Or maybe it was that Potter boy he always hung around with. Maybe it was both. Did they catch you alone in an empty classroom, pass you around between them, double-team you–”

That deep, dark place that churned somewhere in the recesses of Severus’s brain exploded outwarded. It was less of an emotion than it was a gaping maw, a black hole that wanted to consume everything. It had come out that day he had gone with Lucius to get his father’s signature. He’d set fire to the bed. It happened again when he went into labor, lashing out at the peacocks with a wave of flame. Severus didn’t know if it was rage, or fear, or something too primordial to have a name. There was only a desire to protect. 

In an instant, the long velvet drapes that were hung across the arched windows burst into the flames. It ate the fabric, turning it black, and sending the still burning ashes alight to dance in the air. Soon, the fire will reach the wallpaper.

Lucius was staring at Severus’s hands. He looked down and saw fire. Blue flames flickered up and down his fingers, dancing from knuckle to knuckle. His skin was still pale, still healthy, still unburned. The flames were restricted to his hands, but he knew if he could just push himself a little, he could send that fire arching outward and wipe that smirk off of Lucius’s face.

“Pyromancy,” Lucius said, and he sounded almost impressed. “I wonder if our child will also inherit the gift.”

Severus sent a ball of fire straight towards his face.

Chapter Text

The red deer of the open hills of Scotland are unique among other populations of red deer. In autumn, during the months of September and October, a stag will claim a small area of grassland as his own. His roaring can be heard for miles, and, if he can defend his territory from other males, a herd of females will eventually come to him, to graze and mate. There can be several males all within the same field, each jealously guarding their own corner of it. Does will move in and out of their territories, visiting other herds, mating with other males, before eventually wandering back to her family group. The stags are helpless to stop her.

In Scotland, the stags do not stand idly by to watch their does mate with rivals. They'll herd them back, like a sheepdog, if they start to wander too far. They might even try to steal a doe from another herd if her stag is careless enough to let her slip away.

James sometimes wondered if location had anything to do with one's animal form when becoming an animagus, because Prongs was definitely of the Scottish variety of red deer. His instincts, always difficult to control this time of year, were made worse by Lily's scent being so near.

He couldn't see her, but he knew she was following some ways behind him. He wanted to guide her back towards the edge of the forest, to the rolling hill they had just come out of. It was a good hill. Lots of grass. He could support at least seven or eight hinds on a hill like that, maybe even ten. Lily would be safe and well-fed there. Prongs wanted her to stay put, stay safe, because he was about to enter another male's territory, he was going to increase his herd, he was going to steal Malfoy's doe–

No, absolutely not, you stupid idiot, Snape is NOT a doe, James thought, but Prongs was completely unrepentent. He had a beautiful, thick ruff around his neck, and large, curving antlers. Malfoy didn't have any antlers at all–

Nobody cares how big your rack is, you dumb horny bastard. Do you want Lily and Snape to castrate you? James forced images through their head, of Snape in school, those deft hands wielding thin, sharp blades as he gutted frogs for his potions. Lily was next to him, lighting a fire underneath their cauldron, bringing it to a boil. She dropped something into it. That'll be your testicles if you try anything.

He reached the marble stair and shifted into his human form, forcefully banishing Prongs to the back of his brain as he ran up to the front entrance. The doors had been left wide open. He didn't spare the beautiful objects that surrounded him even a glance; the curse reached out with its tendrils, trying to get a foothold into his brain, but the strands snapped free as he ran up the grand staircase. He ran towards the family quarters, toward the sound of magic being cast, and nearly fell on his ass dodging a blast of fire that erupted from the master bedroom. He scrambled back to his feet and peeked inside.

The room was ablaze. The curtains were twisting into the air as the fire devoured them, half-burned strips of wallpaper were fluttering down to the ground. Malfoy was throwing up protective spells, and Snape… Snape looked like the wick of a candle, a match that had just been struck. Pale hands dipped beneath the hem of his robes, blue flames sizzling along the lines of his knuckles, leaping from the ends of his fingertips. His footsteps had been burned into the Persian carpet, the outline of his heel perfectly captured in a ring of ash. Sparks burst from his mouth with every heaving breath. James recognized that look in Snape's eye, that half-wild, crazed animal look he'd get when the Marauders pushed him too far. He'd start slinging dark curses, not caring who saw him do it, that desire to punish them spurring him onward, consequences be damned.

It was a little strange seeing that look directed at someone else, a little frightening, a little awe-inspiring. It had always given him such a thrill, pushing Snape to his limits.

James felt something brush up against him, caught a glimpse of red as Lily started to lift the cloak, ready to fling herself into the fight. James hurriedly pulled the cloak back down and pushed her away from the threshold. He could feel Lily tense underneath his hands, ready to protest.

"That's Snape's quarters–" James pointed farther down the hall, to the concubine's suite. "His kid's probably in there. Get her out. I'll deal with Malfoy and Snape."

Whatever arguments that might spring up between them, James could count on this at least. In battle, they knew how to put their egos aside, and push everything that didn't relate to the mission to their back of their minds, leaving them free to focus on the here and now. Lily knew James was the better duelist. It only made sense for him to be the one to step into the middle of the fight.

James waited until he saw the door to Snape's suite open before creeping inside the master bedroom. They were both dripping with blood, and so focused on each other that they hadn't even noticed when he entered the room. Snape was probably the more dangerous of the two at the moment; James wasn't convinced the other man wouldn't just turn around and attack him the moment Malfoy was no longer a threat. But Malfoy still had his wits about him and James trusted Snape more than Malfoy. He at least knew how to handle Snape when he got like this. Well, maybe not exactly like this. The fire was definitely new.

He heard the door to Snape's suite open again. Lily stopped in front of the master bedroom and lifted the cloak just far enough for James to get a peek of a black-haired little girl in her arms before the pair of them disappeared again. Good, Lily will get her to safety.

"Levicorpus!" James fired the spell and in an instant Malfoy was lifted into the air by his ankles, his wand clattering to the ground. Snape wasted no time. He didn't even question Malfoy's predicament. He reached out with one hand to send the blue flames arcing–

"Flexio!"

The long column of fire turned, missing Malfoy by inches. Snape whirled on him then, and his eyes were darker than he had ever seen them before, his pupils blown wide.

"Snape," James said as he held up his hands in supplication. "You can't kill him. If you kill him, you'll be sent to Azkaban. Think about your child."

All at once, the flames were doused, retreating back underneath his skin. The fire all around them seemed to hear Snape's call, because it slowly died down into a smoulder, filling the room with thick black smoke that burned James's throat every time he took a breath.

"Leah?" Snape said and he took a step towards the door, ready to rush past James to get to her.

"Don't worry, she's safe and away from here," James said.

Snape did not look reassured. In fact, he looked downright murderous. "Where is she?" He demanded.

James flickered his eyes to look at Malfoy, who was trying to grab his wand from the floor. He didn't want to pass along any information that Malfoy could use. "With an old friend," James finally said.

Snape seemed to understand what he was hinting at, because he no longer looked like he was about to pull out James's entrails with a well-aimed sectumsempra. He turned back to Malfoy, and the man had just managed to grab his wand, was twisting his body in an attempt to aim it at them, but with a quick "Liberacorpus," Severus sent his husband crashing to the ground.

Malfoy climbed unsteadily to his feet, his face red with anger and the sudden rush of blood, and sneered. "Really, Severus? Him? You kissed him?" James gave a start at this accusation; had the smoke caused Malfoy to hallucinate, or was he just insane– and then his brain caught up. Snape and Lily must have kissed; that's what broke the contract, and with James rushing in like a knight-in-shining-armor he could see why Malfoy had assumed it had really been him. He wanted to deny it, but Malfoy was already enraged at the thought of another Pureblood taking what was his, he could only imagine how he would react if he learned the person Snape had been kissing was a Muggleborn.

The part of his brain that was James twisted in jealousy at the thought of Snape kissing Lily; the part that was Prongs was pleased. Harmony in his herd. What more could a stag ask for? James had to harshly remind him that having Snape and Lily "get along" would in no way increase his chances of mating with either of them. In fact, those chances had just plummeted into the negative numbers.

"I gave you everything, and you chose someone who humiliated and abused you? You really are just like your mother," Malfoy snapped.

James thought Snape was going to burn his face off there and then, Azkaban or no Azkaban. But he kept in control, glancing between Malfoy, and James, and then– to the bed and the secret panel behind the headboard. James knew exactly what he was thinking and he wanted to reach out and stop him, but he had already opened his mouth, the words flying out–

"I took the diary."

Malfoy jerked back. "Wha–"

"I took the diary," Snape repeated. "The one the Dark Lord gave to you. I don't think he'll be pleased to know you've lost it."

Malfoy didn't spare the two of them another glance. He barreled past them, to the secret panel, and opened it to find it empty. He twisted around, his wand half-raised, a look of pure hatred on his face, but James already had his wand pointed at him. "It's two against one, Malfoy," he said. "Think about your chances."

"Where is it?" Malfoy demanded, his cold, gray eyes never leaving Snape's dark, burning ones.

"I gave it Dumbledore," Snape lied. "I watched him destroy it. I could get a message sent to the Dark Lord, let him know that you failed. Whatever that diary was, it must have been important. What do you think he'll do to you when he finds out it's gone?" Malfoy didn't have to answer. They all knew what would happen. "But that doesn't have to happen. You could let Leah and I go. You'll never from us again."

Malfoy lowered his wand.

James apparated with Snape to a safehouse, not trusting Malfoy enough to go home yet. He sent his Patronus to find Lily, to bring her and the child here. It didn't take long.

Lily appeared with the girl perched on her hip and Snape was striding towards them quick, his eyes darting over the girl's face and arms, searching for injuries. He took her from Lily and the moment she was safely back in Severus's arms, she burst into tears, burying her face into his neck and clutching the front of his robes in her tiny fists. Snape ran a hand up and down her back, shushing her as she cried.

James looked at his estranged wife, at the man he had bullied, the man Lily wanted, the man Prongs wanted, and the little girl. This wasn't how he thought his life would turn out. It wasn't supposed to be this complicated. He was supposed to help win the war, marry the girl, and live happily ever after. James felt a sudden ache for Hogwarts, at how simple everything was.

"So," James said, feeling lost and confused. "What do we do now?"

Lily and Snape looked at each other, and then looked at him. They didn't have an answer.

Chapter Text

Severus and Leah were moved into a new safehouse, one suited for long-term living. They were sharing the space with a woman named Molly Weasley, and her passel of brats. Severus had heard her name before, he was sure, but if they had been at Hogwarts together he didn’t remember her. She was a member of the Order, and so was her husband; Severus didn’t know the details, but they had been compromised, forcing Molly and her children to abandon their house and live here for the time being. The two oldest, Bill and Charlie, were nine and seven years old, respectively; Bill was aware of the danger they were all in and tried to keep the younger children quiet and occupied. Charlie had the most trouble adjusting. He wanted to run around and play and explore, and it was difficult for him to keep all that energy tucked inside. There was four-year-old Percy, who seemed to have a crippling case of shyness. Severus could count on one hand the number of times he had seen him more than a few steps away from his mother. Then there were the twins. They were about the same age as his daughter and rowdy little beasts; they were teaching Leah bad habits. And Molly was already in her second trimester with her sixth child.

Severus took Leah into town, which was really nothing more than a tiny hamlet, completely Muggle and hardly anyone who lived there was under the age of fifty. He also brought Charlie with him to burn off some of that energy while Molly got some much-needed rest.

Severus took them to the library first, carefully replacing each book that Leah tugged free from its spot as she ran with wild abandon. He frowned when he noticed Charlie just standing there, looking around him with bored disinterest. It was hard for Bill and Charlie to keep up with their studies; Molly had been struggling on her own before Severus was dropped off, and he’d started helping her with their lessons in exchange for babysitting Leah. “Well?” Severus demanded. “Aren’t you going to pick out a book?”

“Do I have to?” Charlie whined. “Reading’s boring.”

“Spell ‘island.’”

“I-L-”

Severus cut him off. “That’s what I thought. Maybe if you read more, you’d know there is an ‘s’ in ‘island.’ Now pick out a book.”

“That was a trick word!” Charlie protested as he stomped into the stacks.

“Just for that, you’re going to pick out two books.”

They left the library with their books (He got a picture book titled The Snowy Day for Leah, and Charlie had managed to find Fantastic Mr. Fox and Charlotte’s Web; the boy had a fondness for animals) and continued on to the post office. The Order intercepted their mail, to make sure no curses had been placed on it, and then sent it along through the Muggle post to keep the Death Eaters from discovering their location. He glanced through them, noting Molly had gotten something from Arthur, and was surprised to see he had received three letters. There was one from Lily, and one from… Potter. Severus was still unsure of what to make of their relationship, if it was even possible to define. They weren’t enemies, but they weren’t friends either, at least he didn’t think they were. Considering his relationship with Lily, the other man’s wife – another ill-defined thing that he had no label for, were he and Lily friends again? Were they dating? Severus didn’t know, and he didn’t think Lily knew either – he was surprised Potter even tolerated him. If they were friends, Potter should at least have the decency to tell him so.

Lily and Potter wrote to him, and they visited when they could, and no insults were thrown and no murders committed, which must count for something. The third letter, however, gave him pause. It was from Narcissa. He hadn’t heard from her since he fled Malfoy Manor. He had been so worried about her health, and every day he checked the obituaries, just to make sure her name wasn’t listed among the dead.

Severus tucked the letters into his pocket and took the kids home. When he arrived, he handed Molly her mail and asked if she could watch Leah while he took a moment upstairs. As soon as he reached the room he and Leah slept in, he ripped open the letter and unfolded it.

Dear Severus,

I think this might be my only chance to contact you. Lucius refuses to even mention your name; it’s like you don’t exist. Everything has been moved out of your suite. I came home to find the furniture wrapped in sheets, and all of your potion equipment was gone. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if you and Leah are safe. I don’t even know if this letter will reach you. I gave it to Slughorn, hoping he might know where you were and pass it along.

I’m doing much better. The mediwizards said I have a condition called “hyperemesis gravidarum.” I also have symptoms of pre-eclampsia. I was so scared of getting pregnant, remember? Well, I’m feeling very justified! I don’t care what Lucius says or does, this is going to be my only pregnancy and if he doesn’t like it then he can go hang for all I care!

Well, enough of all that. I had to get this letter to you. I’ve learned something very important. While I was stuck at St. Mungo’s, I struck up a bit of a friendship with one of the nurses– an American half-blood by the name of Rhodes. Concubinage has been outlawed in the States for about fifty years now, and she was just fascinated about our life together. Wanted to know how it all worked, if we ever got jealous of each other (ha!). I told her about you, and that your family name is Prince. She told me that her brother married an English witch named Eileen Prince and wanted to know if you were related.

I know this letter will probably be a horrible shock to you. I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you this in person. I didn’t tell her that she’s your mother, but I did get an address from her. I’ve enclosed it here. I’m not telling you that you should seek her out. You’re not under any obligation to do that. You owe her nothing. But, if you do want to, here is the means. I hope you’re happy, and I hope you’re safe.

Your friend, wherever you may be,

Narcissa B. Malfoy

Severus felt his heart thundering inside his chest. He had packed all thoughts of his mother away in a dark, dusty corner of his brain the moment she walked out on him. He never thought he’d see her again and dwelling on it would do him no favors. He contemplated burning the address; she had done nothing to help him, she had left him in that house with that man, but… the more he thought about it, the more he needed answers. He needed her to tell him, to his face, why she had left. Why she abandoned him. He’d get no peace if he didn’t.

It took some convincing, what with the war and who knows what revenge Lucius might be plotting, if he’s plotting anything at all– but Dumbledore got him a portkey. Lily and Potter insisted on coming with him, as back-up, but he’d told them in no uncertain terms that they would remain outside for the duration of the visit. He thought about just showing up, half-afraid that she would disappear again if he gave her any warning of his coming, but in the end, he sent her a letter first. To his surprise, she replied and gave him a time and a date to meet.

He found himself standing in front of a middle-sized house in a small town in some state or another; one of the square ones in the middle of the country. It was a pretty house, made of white clapboard with bright blue trimmings. There were windowboxes filled with pansies and violets, and a neatly trimmed lawn. The street was clean, and he could hear children playing somewhere nearby. He suspected the house even had an indoor toilet, a luxury the old Victorian terraced house he grew up in didn’t have.

In short, it looked nothing like Spinner’s End.

He looked behind him and Lily gave him a tight, encouraging smile. He couldn’t muster one up to share with her, but he nodded, and she and Potter began a slow circular walk up and down the street to give him his privacy.

He knocked and after a moment the door opened to reveal his mother.

He expected her to look older; it had been years now since he last saw her, after all. But she didn’t. She looked well. Healthy. She had gained a little weight and her long hair was clean and tied back in a braid. She sighed when she saw him standing there, like he was nothing more than an inconvenience, but she waved him inside.

“Coffee?” She asked as she led him into the kitchen. “I’d offer tea, but my husband insists on icing it and keeping it in the refrigerator.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said as he took a seat at the table. It was a very pretty room. Bright and airy, and through an archway he saw a hallway with a row of pictures hung all around. He saw his mother, wrapped in the arms of a man about her age – a little overweight, balding, but what little hair he did have Severus could see that it was blond. His nose was small, almost button-shaped. Sitting in front of them, waving at the camera, were two young, teenage girls; clearly the man’s daughters.

His mother caught him staring. “That’s John, my husband, and those are my stepdaughters, Amy and Denise. They go to Ilvermorny.”

“Do they know I exist?”

“No, and I plan on keeping it that way.” She sat down across from him and looked him straight in the eye. “This will be the only time I let you visit. I’ve put the past behind me. I don’t want you coming here and dragging it all back up again.”

“Do you feel any remorse for leaving me with that monster?” Severus demanded, his rage mounting at his mother’s indifference.

She just looked at him with those large, dark eyes of hers and simply said, “You look just like your father. Especially when you’re angry.”

Hearing those words felt like a punch to the gut.

“What do you want, Severus?” She asked. “Why are you here? What are you hoping to get from me? Is it money?”

“I wanted a mother!”

Eileen sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I was seventeen when I got pregnant with you. I was only a child myself. I’m sorry that I wasn’t like the other mothers, that I didn’t act as grown up as you thought I should be.”

Severus swallowed thickly. “I wanted to tell you that you’re a grandmother. I have a daughter. I gave birth to a daughter. I’m sure you can figure out on your own who the father is,” he sneered.

“And you kept her?” She asked. For once in her life she didn’t deny what had happened to Severus, what had been going on for years. Didn’t bury her head in the sand and pretend it didn’t affect her. “You could have given her up. Left her at a hospital or something.”

How could he explain it to her? “When she was born,” Severus spoke slowly, trying to encompass every feeling that had passed through him at the sight of his daughter in every word. “I was terrified. I didn’t want her, but I felt obligated to her. I didn’t want to abandon her the way you abandoned me. What if she ended up in some place worse? But then she was born, and the way she looked at me… I’m her entire world. No one has ever looked at me and loved me the way my daughter does. I’d do anything for her.” He wiped at his face, brushing away any lingering tears. “I know I used to look at you like that too, but that wasn’t enough for you. My love wasn’t enough.”

Eileen remained unmoved, her face impassive. Her dark eyes looked exactly like Severus's, but they held none of the fire. “Do you feel better now, coming here?” She asked.

“No,” he said, standing up. “I’m going home.”

Lily and Potter took him back to the safehouse. They didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions he couldn’t give answers to; they just followed, a pair of pillars to help prop him up. They spoke quietly to Molly as they stepped inside, but Severus didn’t pay attention to any of it. His eyes went straight to Leah, where she sat on the floor playing with the Weasley twins. He strode over to her and swept her up in his arms, to her delighted giggles. “I want you to know,” he whispered into her hair. “That I love you very much.”