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Chapter Text

Lily throws herself up the stairs, with a drowsing Harry pressed tightly to her chest. Taking the steps two at a time, she makes it to the upper landing in seconds. Her eyes flit over the master bedroom door – to easily breached, she thinks– and lands on Harry's nursery. It has the sturdiest door. It can be barricaded.

Within moments she makes it into the nursery and, using her hip, Lily shoves the wooden door closed. It shuts with a bang. With the hand not supporting Harry, she bolts it shut.

Slowly, she backs away from the door until she's stood in the middle of the room. Look at yourself, she thinks furiously, barely holding back hysterical laughter, locking the door. Futile. As if a piece of un-enchanted wood and some flimsy metal will stop a Dark Lord. Hah.

She needs to get Harry out of here.

But first, protection. Lily has to slow He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named down if they are to have a single hope of escaping. Something to strengthen the door… she's got just the spell. It will take far longer for the intruder to break through the enchantment than it will take her to cast it – at most, it'll be a matter of seconds for Lily. She reaches for her wand-

Her holster is empty.

Her holster is empty.

She left her wand in the living room.

There is no time to berate herself, but even so, a string of unintelligible grown too complacent and idiot and have I doomed us both? run on repeat in the back of her mind. Lily ignores it. Swiftly, she compartmentalises all thoughts that aren't solely focused on keeping her son alive. While she might not be skilled at wandless Apparition, short distances are fine. With a bit of rest between jumps, Lily can manage five Apparitions before reaching her limit. She'll get them down to ground level, outside in the garden- no. Even if Lily was willing to risk Apparating with baby Harry, knowing the chances of permanently injuring him (there is a reason why no one under the age of fourteen should be Side-Along Apparated), she would still have to run through the garden before reaching cover. She'd be little more than a sitting duck, rushing across the wide-open lawn until arriving by the tree line. It'd be enough time to recuperate before the next jump… but would they even survive that long?

There's a crash from downstairs.

New plan. She can–

Sickly green light spills into the nursery through the gap under the door. The following thud from downstairs, barely audible, echoes in her head.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

That. That was-

James is-

Lily forcefully presses the realisation down. Harry, Lily repeats in her head, Harry, Harry, Harry. She has to keep her baby safe.

Lily can't think of a way for her to make it out of this alive… but Harry. There's a chance…

She will save her son. She will, even if it is the last thing she'll ever do.

Two minutes at most before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named arrives, Lily estimates. She'd hidden quickly, long before the powerful wizard entered their home. The Dark Lord would be unable to use Homenum Revelio; the wards prevent it. And since the cottage is by no means small, he would have to look through all the rooms on the first floor before coming upstairs.

It will have to be enough. It has to.

Lily deposits her still-dozing son in the crib and then scrabbles for the wardrobe door. Throwing it open, she goes for the crayons Remus gave Harry during his last visit months ago now. She pays little mind to the confused growling of the cat scarcely out of kitten-hood, woken up from its slumber on a folded-up blanket between the wardrobe shelves, having more pressing matters on her mind. So long as he stays quiet.

She need not have worried; Crookshanks seems to sense the foreboding atmosphere and falls silent immediately.

Lily runs back to the crib with the crayons, the cat observing sombrely. She kicks the edges of the rug beneath the crib away to reveal the wooden floor, making the fabric bunch up awkwardly. With precise movements, Lily draws the first symbol on the wood. She needs three sets of three. All of them drawn perfectly – lest she wants a fiery explosion on her hands. There is no room for errors. Usually, she would use a ruler, maybe a compass divider, to ensure she gets the proportions right, but there's no time. Lily will have to trust her skills. She has drawn variations of this array multiple times; her memory must be enough.

What feels like an eternity later, but can't have been more than half a minute, the wooden planks are covered in bright greens and oranges.

It is a one-time-only barrier specifically tailored to withstand spells that regular magic shields can't stop; supposed to make a barrier of air thick enough to make curses rebound but thin enough to still be invisible.

She has yet to get it working properly.

There's only a minuscule chance that it'll do anything – it's magic versus some air molecules packed a little tighter than usual. Merlin, but she hasn't even had an opportunity to test this version yet! Lily has no idea what it'll do; maybe it will direct the spell away, perhaps it'll halt it, or it could stop a portion of the magic but let other parts through… or it might fail entirely.

The last option does not bear contemplation.

Gritting her teeth, Lily draws the last rune. She has to act as if it will work, has to plan for the eventuality of an after. Because even if the barrier holds – which it will, it has to – it is still a onetime defence. It will only protect her baby from one spell, one time. Which means she needs to do something to take the attacker out. To stop them from simply picking her infant son up and throwing him out the window should magic prove insufficient.

But what to use as protection… an intentional rebound? A hidden curse?

Shit, shit, shit, but Lily hasn't enough time!-

She needs a solution now!-

… there is that one thing…

Sacrificial magic is not something Lily normally thinks about, but it is – was – mentioned in multiple tomes hidden away in the ancestral Potter library. Before the Death Eaters set the mansion on fire.

But.

It is forbidden magic.

Outlawed centuries ago, and for good reasons too.

It's known to have devastating and unpredictable results. Desperate means for desperate people that neverworked as intended.

Dismissing all of the above arguments as insignificant, Lily barely pauses before viciously biting into her index finger and using her own blood to draw out a new set of runes. After all, she is desperate too. There is nothing she will not willingly do for Harry.

And so, she writes down the symbols in an order she never thought she would use (had only memorized in the first place because what if?) and then begins to outline the Name of the One who shall not breach the barrier.

Voldemort.

Lily hears the topmost stair groan.

Her time is up.

Even as she arranges the edges of the rug to obscure her work, Lily can hear the creaking of someone much larger walking towards the room. The steps are calm, the steady beat of someone utterly unconcerned. Someone who is confident in their imminent victory.

Lily's breath speeds up, and she has to use her all to even it out. She can do nothing about the knots of dread forming in her stomach, though.

In the back of her mind, she notices a steady trickle of magic – of life force? – leaking out of herself, powering up the forbidden array. It's slow going. Yet it has to be fast enough to work. It. Has. To.

Lily silently prays that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will use his characteristic spell; that he will attempt to cast the Killing Curse. If the wizard chooses to go with something more grandiose – say summoning fire, wanting to burn her baby boy alive – the barrier will not hold. And while the sacrificial magic she has invoked might be strong enough to protect Harry from burning, it can do little against smoke filling up his lungs or a burning house collapsing around him. Lily can think of dozens of ways to get around both protections. She can only hope that the runic magic will take He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named out before he can counter it.

The steps come to a stop outside the door.

And then it's blown off its hinges.

Lily staggers back from the shockwave of pure power that radiates out, a mix of light and sound and weight enough to entirely drown out the sound of the door hitting the floor. She rights herself – because she will not show weakness – blinking rapidly to dispel the spots. And then Lily's eyes zero in on him.

The black-cloaked figure of the Dark Lord strides into the room with unhurried steps.

She meets red, red, red eyes before her own instinctively swivel down to stare at the pale wand held in his hands, raised and ready.

"Step aside."

Lily straightens her spine at the words. Summoning every bit of defiance she possesses, Lily stares the man down. Turns out she has a lotof defiance to find when asked to let an evil, child-murdering bastard through. "Over my dead body," she growls back.

The expression of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sours, and Lily suddenly panics. He can't kill her yet! Lily is supposed to stall for time; the runes are still siphoning off her magic, her last defence is not at full strength yet.

So, when the Dark Lord demands she moves out of the way once more, Lily does the only thing she can think of. She begs. "Please! Please take me instead! He's only a baby," she implores, even if she knows how futile it is. Of course he won't do anything of the sort. But Lily only needs a little more time. "Please!"

It becomes evident that the wizard is losing his patience, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You silly girl. This has nothing to do with you. Leave, and you will be spared."

"I'll do anything!" Lily pleads, all the while trying to metaphysically push more magic out of herself. Willing it to work, work, work, work, work. Oh, please, please work. "I'm begging you, just let my son live!"

"Move," the Dark Lord orders. For what she suspects is the last time.

"No."

He says, in a level tone, "Avada Kedavra."

She sees the expected flash of green light.

And then she sees nothing at all.

oooOOooo

Lily opens her eyes and looks into the green eyes of her crying son. She instinctively scans him for injuries. Harry appears to be okay. There are tear-tracks running down his face, but excluding that not even a scratch is to be found.

The wailing reaches new heights, and Lily unthinkingly reaches out to scoop up her baby-

Only for her arms to pass right through him.

She blinks once, twice, thrice – looking at her see-through hand that, unlike everything around her, is near colourless. Glancing down at her body Lily is unsurprised to discover that it, too, is transparent.

Ah.

She's a ghost, then.

That's… disconcerting.

Lily supposes her death was violent enough to leave behind an imprint. As for unfinished business, if her desire to protect Harry at any cost wasn't enough to keep her tethered to the realm of the living, then nothing would've.

Now, if only she could comfort her very distressed son, that would be grand.

That is when she properly notices the sound coming from behind her.

Someone else is in the room.

She has a split moment of panic at the thought of the Dark Lord still being here, but then she registers that the sound she's hearing… is somebody crying. And somehow, she doubts that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is currently sobbing in Harry's nursery. Still, Lily turns to assess the potential threat. Only to draw up short.

"Severus," she says, voice deceptively flat, "just what do you think you're doing with my corpse?"

Severus instantly falls quiet, and his head shoots up. The man's bloodshot eyes widen. "Lily?"

"Severus," she repeats mockingly. And then she pointedly glances down at her lifeless body, still cradled in the wizard's arms. "Do you mind?"

Her former friend eases his grip but does not relinquish it entirely.

Lily's eyebrow twitches.

Meanwhile, Severus's gaze is still fixed on hers. "You are… upset," he says after a moment.

"You don't say," she replies scratchily, the irritation making her voice vibrate with a haunting quality. Had Lily been alive, her magic would have lashed out, but as it was, she has to settle for staring holes into the wizard across from her. "My son is howling with distress." As if to punctuate her words, Harry lets out a wail loud enough to wake the dead. Seeing her baby so upset yet unable to do anything about it hurts. At the edge of her vision, she sees her son reaching for her… it feels like the pit of her stomach is filled with stones.

With a huff of frustration, she stalks towards Severus. "Well, don't just sit there. Do something about it, you useless toerag!" After a second of thought, she adds, "And stop hugging the corpse as if it was a bloody teddy bear!"

Severus clears his throat. With careful movements, he places the empty husk that used to be her on the ground, whereafter he shakily gets to his feet. "I-" he starts to say, only to be interrupted by the roar of an engine.

Lily deflates. "That would be Sirius."

Sirius, at least, will stop at nothing untilHarry is pacified. He has a knack for dealing with children; there is a reason they (oh God, James) chose the man to be Harry's godfather.

In comparison to herself, Severus does not seem calmed by these news. Rather, he takes a single step away from Lily's still very dead body and Disapparates on the spot without another word.

At the loud crack of air rushing in to fill the void, Harry's wails grow louder.

She immediately turns back to the bassinet, heart aching. "Oh, darling, I know, I know," Lily murmurs, trying to keep her tone soothing. With no way to rock him, touch him, she begins to crone a lullaby close to his ear. While Harry always responds best to the more tactile method, the soft melody of the song her own mother used to sing usually lulls Harry into a state of calm.

It has no discernible effect this time.

Lily's arms begin to shake. She can't do anything. Has no way to help her son - and Harry keeps reaching for her, staring at her in betrayal as if wondering why she isn't doing anything-

The floorboards creak. Turning her head, Lily spots Crookshanks creeping back towards the crib. The tiny furball leaps into the basinet and settles down, pressed up against Harry. Her baby snuggles up to the cat, and, for once, the half-kneazle permits it. Lily finds herself unclenching minutely, not only because Crookshanks's presence calms Harry but because she'd been afraid he'd died in the attack. The little cat seems no worse for wear.

…however, Crookshanks has gained a minor injury right above his left eye sometime between her death and now. Leaning closer, she studies the addition. The wound is already beginning to scab over, although it is surprisingly visible even through poufy fur. The Norse rune Sowilo, if she is not mistaken.

That is… something.

There's a creak from downstairs. Lily stands up straight upon hearing someone entering the house, seemingly pushing debris out of the way if she's to go by the muttered "Wingardium Leviosa".

There's an anguished keen. "No, no, Jaime. Please, please…" Lily closes her eyes when the pleas of "be okay, be okay, oh please be okay" peters out.

Harry snivels from inside the bassinet. Lily goes to run a calming hand through his hair. She stutters to a halt when it passes through his head like smoke. Damn it, damn it, damn it. She just – she just wants to hold her son, pull Harry close to her chest – is that too much to ask for?

"Shh, it'll be okay, baby. Uncle Pads will be here any second now, don't you worry. He'll take such good care of you," she promises Harry.

The last part is not even an exaggeration. Sirius might not be what she would call… the most mature adult, but who is? Sure, he can be terribly impulsive, too harsh with his words… and of course, it troubles her, but Lily does not doubt that Sirius will do his outmost to care for Harry. And he has proven to be a surprisingly competent babysitter. Perhaps the skills come from practice (occasionally minding a young Metamorphmagus such as Nymphadora Tonks can't be easy,) or maybe the effortless way he has with children was innate. Either way, he'll- he'll take good care of Harry now that she and- and James can't (oh God, oh God, oh God - don't think about it, don't think about it ).

Her words prove true when only moments after having found James; she hears Sirius let out a low, "Oh Merlin, Harry," before the tell-tale sound of him jumping to his feet.

Lily knows she only has seconds to decide how to proceed because, unlike He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Sirius knows Lily well enough to realizewhere she'd flee – he is already running up the stairs, heading for the nursery. Sirius will arrive within moments.

She glances down at the bassinet; Lily wants nothing more than to stay with Harry, make sure he's safe. That he is happy. But Harry needs to be alive to enjoy a childhood filled with laughter, and that will not happen while there is a Dark Lord still running around, inexplicitly after Harry's head.

Thus, Lily reluctantly backs away from her baby (in a manner of speaking – her legs are moving, but seeing as she is floating five inches above the ground, Lily supposes drifts is a better adjective than backs. Being a ghost is strange). She reaches the wall separating the upper floor bathroom from the nursery and, taking a shuddering breath, Lily makes herself take another step backwards. Through the wall.

It feels like nothing in particular. There is no resistance, not even something as small as the sensation of walking upwind or trudging through water – no, passing through the wall feels no different from passing through air. Lily emerges on the other side. Excluding the eery glow she emits, the bathroom is dark; the blinds pulled down.

She stands there. Alone. Silent.

Silent enough that she has no issues listening to Sirius choke when he spots her body. Hears with perfect clarity as her friend whispers soothing words in a wavering, clogged-up voice as he desperately tries to stay strong as he picks up Harry…

She does nothing when his voice fades away. The steps grow quiet, but she continues to stand there. Outside the cottage, an engine roars to life. Lily is still. And then the sound of Sirius's motorcycle, too, is something of the past.

Lily sinks to the floor. She presses her palms against her closed eyes and tries to quell the pressure behind them. Didn't know ghosts could cry, she reflects humourlessly as wet tracks appear on her cheeks as she continues to hover above the floor. Trying to blink them away proves futile.

She does not know how long she sits there, staring unseeingly at the dark wall. Taking a deep breath, Lily attempts to centre herself. Harry. She has to make sure that nothing – no-one – comes after Harry. Only-she can't- she has a plan, but- what is she even supposed to-

Lily is jolted out of her thoughts by the creak of the bathroom door as it's cracked open. A section of the floor is cast in the warm orange of the light from the still flickering candle in the hallway.

A feline body sneaks into the room.

"Crookshanks," she croaks out when the orange fuzz ball comes to a stop by her translucent legs.

The young cat meows.

Lily's resolve strengthens. There is a reason she hid from Sirius. A reason for not following and ensuring that Harry is alright as her heart yearns to do.

She has a self-appointed mission.

…

Lily wavers. It's simple enough to say that she will find He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… but how? No one in the Order knows the exact location of the man's stronghold. And even if Lily does find him, what is she supposed to do? Stalk him to death? Haunt him into running off and leaving Harry alone? Ha.

Well, maybe she can make him sleep-deprived enough to commit a mistake. There is no known way to exorcise ghosts, so it's not like anyone could make her leave. Nor does she know of any wards capable of keeping them out for long-

Crookshanks gives another meow.

Lily exhales forcefully. Maybe she won't be able to do much, but even her worst attempt will be better than the nothing she is currently doing. It can only go up from here. Lily exhales again and gives the orange fuzzball a sad smile. "Guess it's just you and me, huh?"

She tries to push herself up, but her arm – in hindsight, unsurprisingly – passes straight through the floor and almost sends her tumbling down to the story bellow. Lily hasn't thought much about how the area between floors is designed, but she knows now. What with having spent the better part of a minute trying to pull her head out of the space. Willing herself to stand after escaping the floor proves… difficult, but she prevails. With a bit of manoeuvring (alright, with a lot of manoeuvring), she finally manages to "stand up".

All the while, Crookshanks lies on the floor, occasionally licking his paw and staring at her silently. If she didn't know better, she'd assume that the newly scarred cat was judging her.

On second thought, he probably is.

"Alright, let's go," she says and takes a tentative step towards the door (this walking business is so much more complicated now that she is actively thinking about it). Crookshanks quickly overtakes Lily, slinking out the door ahead of her. She follows the half-kneazle back into the nursery.

It's. Chaos.

Only now does Lily fully digest the destruction wrought upon the room. It looks like an explosion has gone off; the roof is half torn apart, the outer wall is barely more than rubble, and rain is slowly darkening the floorboards where nothing is sheltering them from the elements. As she watches, another part of the wall crumbles in on itself, taking a little more of the roof with it. The only thing unbroken is Harry's crib.

"Magical backlash, no doubt," she notes out loud. Studying the wreckage with critical eyes, it becomes clear that a shockwave had spread out in a circle around the crib. Not evenly, though. If she is to guess, the backlash was most potent on the side He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was standing. But even the weaker part has wreaked havoc. While only one wall has been blown out, cracks run along the remaining surfaces, and broken furniture litters the floor.

Crookshanks makes a soft sound, and she moves her attention his way. The young cat is pawing at a piece of black cloth. Inching closer herself, Lily identifies it as the remains of the Dark Lord's cloak. "I suppose it's too much to hope he perished in the explosion?" The cat scrunches his nose in what might pass for agreement. "Yeah," she sighs, "doubt it'd be that simple."

She peers into the night; the weak glow emanating from herself and the far-off light posts doing little against the darkness. What now, she muses.

Lily hasn't any idea how to go about finding a Dark Lord.

The tattered remains of the curtains pass through her body, startling her. Lily's planning session gets side-tracked by this, yet another aspect of her new state of being. Because while she can see what remains of the scarlet fabric fluttering in the wind, she can't feel it. It dawns on her that, aside from her sight and hearing, she has been largely disconnected from the living world. Most of her senses… are gone.

And she hadn't even noticed.

But then, why would she? Lily can still sense the cotton of her long-sleeved shirt, feel the weight of her hair, and she certainly notices how her teeth are currently cutting into her lower lip... But even as she tries to focus on the wind blowing through the giant hole in her home, the wind she should be able to feel-

There's nothing. Lily has no perception of it.

No perception of anything real.

Because. She's dead. Lily is dead.

That is… yeah.

Certainly, it's mindboggling to wrap her head around. But at least she is not panicking over this new lack of senses – which is in itself a little weird. Being a ghost must be doing something to the psyche because Lily knows she would not have coped well with this yesterday. Merlin, but it should be more unsettling. Like, sure, it's unsettling, but not cripplingly so.

"This is so strange," Lily tells her feline companion seriously, looking down at him where he's retreated to the doorway, "I hope you realise that."

Crookshanks does not look impressed. Instead, he meows at her from where he's sitting next to the piece of the Dark Lord's cloak - almost insistently, sounding like he's been at it for a while. Had he been trying to get her attention? Ah. Judging by how the cat is positively glaring at her, Lily will go with a resounding yes. "I'm coming, I'm coming."

And then she follows Crookshanks down the stairs.

It is not like Lily has any leads; why not follow the cat? There's the piece of fabric, too – who knows, perhaps Crookshanks has picked up a trail. He is a kneazle, after all, and that has to count for something.

Really, following a juvenile cat around isn't even close to the strangest thing she has done.

Lily feels tempted to pick Crookshanks up. Not that she can, but watching the little thing jump over debris (while resolutely not looking at James's body) and walk out into the cold night on his tiny paws makes her feel like a bad owner. She is basically looking at a child wandering the streets on its own.

When she tells Crookshanks this, the cat gives a condescending sniff.

"I know," Lily says lightly from where she is float-walking next to him (rain falling through her – so strange), "you're as fierce as a tiger, no help needed." After a moment of thought, she adds, "Thanks for staying with me, Crooks."

It isn't that big of a surprise. Crookshanks is her cat, even though she and James originally got him for Harry. It had felt like fate, the fact that Crookshanks was born on the same day as her baby boy. And as a part kneazle, chances are Crookshanks will be around until Harry's thirty – longer still, should he be a familiar. She and James had plans, is what she's getting to. Of course, those went out the window when the kitten instantly attached himself to Lily.

And now, here they are.

Crookshanks confidently leads her to the outskirts of Godric's Hollow and then beyond, guiding her into the surrounding forest. Even though the rain lets up, dark clouds still cover the stars. This, coupled with the thick foliage, means that little light reaches them. Lily keeps expecting to stumble over a root or run headfirst into a low-hanging branch. She doesn't, of course, having become an insubstantial and portable nightlight, but the feeling is still there.

After a while, moving becomes more natural… if somewhat boring. Walking about in a forest where you can scarcely see more than a foot in front of you is a little monotonous – especially since Lily doesn't even get the distraction of walking.

It gets slightly brighter once they reach a small country road. And sure, floating along an endless stretch of gravel is not the hight of entertainment, either, but it isn't dull enough to make her complain – Lily is sure she could do this for hours if she had to. Might not enjoy it, but she would do it without whining. But the slight increase of ambient light shows that Crookshanks has begun to look worse for wear, fur matted with dirt and his legs moving sluggishly as his little paws carry him onwards. Lily is worried.

The half-kneazle is far too stubborn to stop, though. He would probably continue until falling of exhaustion (Lily would know. The one time she locked him out of the bedroom for… reasons, the then kitten continued to scratch the door. Relentlessly. Needless to say, she and James caved before Crookshanks did).

"Maybe we should rest for a while?" Lily suggests as delicately as she can.

It takes some needling (how has her cat managed to get even more obstinate in these last few hours?), but she finally manages to convince Crookshanks that breaks are good. Watching him burrow underneath a bush by the side of the road, Lily is terribly relieved to have added an Optimal Temperature Charm to Crookshanks's collar. Simultaneously, she feels like the worst pet owner ever. Her cat nearly died, and now she's somewhat compelled him to walk off into the middle of nowhere. Do cats get traumatized? They can, can't they? Good god. Merlin. Whoever.

Lily truly is the worst.

Lily swears that once this is over, she's making Sirius treat Crookshanks like the king he is. And possibly reading up on what to do with animals that have been through harrowing situations.

oooOOooo

"Where are we going?" Lily asks the next day. A bit futile, granted, since there is no way Crookshanks will reply, but she feels better having stated it out loud. They have been walking down the same road since first light. Which means that Lily has seen nothing but trees and tiny, identical villages for four hours now. It is becoming a little repetitive. Travelling is more entertaining when you have a way to while away the time and, wonderful as Crookshanks may be, a great conversationalist he is not.

As if to prove her point, Crookshanks meows loudly. And then goes back to ignoring her.

"Aren't you growing weary of walking?" she continues, perhaps pointlessly. "There must be a better way to reach our goal, wherever it is located. Surely?" Lily looks down at what feels like an endless stretch of gravel with distaste. Moving by foot is such a slow mode of travel.

Apparently, Crookshanks feels the same way.

She hears the rumble before she sees it. Turning around, Lily spots a car driving towards them and automatically steps out of the way. Shaking her head at the instinctive reaction, she watches the car (a Ford Cortina, like the one her dad had, if she's not mistaken) approach, glancing between it and Crookshanks to make sure the young cat won't accidentally get run over. The poor thing is a wizarding cat, after all. Hasn't come across many cars yet in his life. Soon, the car has drawn level with them – Crookshanks, thankfully out of tire-range, is currently perched on a sign next to the road.

And then Crookshanks leaps onto the car's roof with a near-inaudible thump.

Lily's jaw all but hits the ground. She can't do anything but watch silently as a smug Crookshanks makes himself comfortable on the green Ford Cortina as it speeds off.

What.

No, seriously. What?!

"Crookshanks!" she yells after him, but the cat only gives a self-satisfied flick of his ears to indicate that he has heard her. And then the cat is nearly out of hearing range. "Oh, I cannot believe you," Lily says, still stunned.

How in the world is she supposed to keep up with a car?

Lily takes off at a run, feeling exceptionally stupid even as she does it. She is moving faster than she would have alive, granted, but against a motor-driven contraption going thirty miles per hour, that does not say much. Not to mention that the bloody thing is speeding up!

Crookshanks's fluffy tail waves tauntingly at her from where he is still lying on top of the car, pleased as punch. Lily hisses in irritation as she, too, speeds up, pushing herself harder. The cat is enjoying this.

She doubts Crookshanks will be jumping down from there anytime soon. For a half-kneazle that thinks it the height of entertainment to accompany James and Sirius on broom-rides (otherwise known as suicidal frolicking), hitching a ride on a car is nothing.

The green vehicle grows further and further away until Crookshanks is nothing but an orange dot in the distance.

Lily continues to run (floating, whatever), spitting out incensed profanities. The swears take on a new degree of flare when the Ford Cortina disappears from view behind a hill.

She continues to run.

Undoubtedly, she will find her cat in a couple of hours, once the car turns off this road, and Crookshanks is forced to leap off if he wants her to ever catch up. Which she assumes he wants. She'll probably find the cat sitting on a stone by some intersection - exuding smugness at his own cleverness.

There's nothing to do but continue to run.

Perhaps some thirty minutes later, Lily comes upon a small community by the side of the road. Behind a tall fence, she sees a young girl with her hair up in two pigtails (using quite obnoxiously coloured hair bobbles, Lily's not going to lie), playing with a blue and red clad figurine…

And Lily is hit by a brilliant idea. Because, well, why not?

Lily bends her knees in preparation – never mind that she isn't touching the ground – and tenses her muscles. Then she pushes off and wills herself to fly.

And, wonder of wonders… she does.

The houses of the village shrink below her as Lily rises higher. With nary a thought, she makes her ghostly form level out until she is parallel with the ground – moving forward at great speed through the air. With her hands clenched, and arms outstretched in front of herself, Lily allows herself to grin in victory. She is soaring!

As an avid reader of DC comics when younger, she ought have thought of this earlier. It's almost embarrassing.

But not enough to diminish Lily's euphoria as she flies, easily seventy feet above the ground.

She supposes being dead isn't all bad.

oooOOooo

Lily catches up with Crookshanks in no time.

She lands (making sure to strike a suitably impressive superhero pose while she's at it) right in front of the fallen log her cat has chosen as his perch. After she gets to her feet, she crosses her translucent arms. "Proud of yourself?" she asks sarcastically.

From how Crookshanks preens, she daresay the answer is yes.

Puffing up proudly, a now clean Crookshanks (she does not put it beyond him to have scammed a couple of people into cleaning him) jumps off the log. After making a head motion that clearly means ‘follow me,' the cat takes the left intersections and heads down a slightly larger road. This on has asphalt.

Lily isn't even surprised when Crookshanks catches a lift on the first best car passing by. At least she now has a way to keep up – and really, it isn't like she can complain about flying. Actual flying, not the lethal acrobatics James and Sirius got up to (Lily has tried to master flying – He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is rumoured to have pulled it off, so why not her? She's never gotten beyond vague floating, though. And that she's been able to do since her pre-Hogwarts years).

Lily hopes Crookshanks knows where he's going. It looks like he does, which has to count for something. And so they continue their journey, the cat hitchhiking while Lily flies above, invisible to the muggle eye.

By late afternoon, they reach the coast. Looking to her right, Lily can spot Dover in the distance.

With a sniff, Crookshanks abandons the car he had been using as a ride. He then takes them through a cove of trees and onto a small foot path. With autumn well under way, yellowing leaves litter the ground, more joining sporadically as the sea breeze pulls more leaves off the trees. However, as they get closer to the ocean, the trees fall away – instead replaced with dead grass.

Lily looks out over The Channel, the water lighting up in the twilight sun. "Nice view," she comments before turning her eyes towards the port in the distance. "What now, though? Because I hate to break it to you, Crooks, but I don't think the wizard's hiding out in Dover."

Crookshanks, being a cat, cannot answer. Still, Lily has no problem working it out for herself when her cat sneaks abord a ferry.

"We're leaving the isle?" That, she did not expect. Surely the backlash of her ritual could not have been powerful enough to drive a Dark Lord out of the country. Right?

Except… apparently it was?

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the motor reeving up. Within a minute, the boat is moving. Watching the water pass by outside, Lily shrugs to herself. She's followed Crookshanks this far; there is no way she is backing out now.

"I have always wanted to visit the continent," she reflects aloud.

Crookshanks purrs in agreement.

The young cat – and consequently Lily – stuffs away in a corner away from all the passengers.

Lily spends a brief moment worrying over watercourses and ghosts, but – well, the canal isn't actually a watercourse, and Lily has personally met ghosts that have crossed all forms of running water. It obviously isn't an issue. Thus, she settles in for the ride.

They are about halfway through the journey when a rat runs by their little nook. Usually, Lily would save the animal from Crookshanks's clutches; after all, her entire friend group (before they began dying off one by one…) had a collective soft spot for the rodents. She used to laugh when the word rat was thrown around as an insult, always deciding to take it as an unintentional compliment…

But now, Lily finds herself unwilling to lift a finger in the rodent's defence.

Peter.

The traitor.

Lily still becomes furious at the mere thought of him. In recent years, Peter has – had – become one of her best friends. She had trusted him with her life. With her family's life.

Their brave, witty, and steadfast friend… had divulged their location to the Dark Lord.

Because that's the only way it could have happened – there's no forcing a Secret Keeper to reveal the information… and so Peter must have done so willingly.

Lily can't wrap her head around it. Just. Why? Why?

Peter visited a week ago. He smiled at them. Held Harry in his arms as he spun around the room, making up ridiculous lyrics to get her son laughing.

Why?

Lily knocks the back of her skull against the wall of the boat in frustration – only for her entire head to pass right through. She stares up at the metal plating directly above her – you cannot see far when inside a solid object – and lets out a weary puff. Once she has calmed down marginally, she pulls her head back out of the hull. It will do her no good to dwell on Peter. Being alternatively consumed by thoughts of "why, why, where did we go wrong?" and a burning rage will do her no good. Easier said than done.

And Lily always has been one to hold a grudge.

She makes a genuine effort to keep her mood from souring and focuses on staying positive.

Sirius will know that Peter had been the one to betray them. After all, Peter was the Secret Keeper; it's child's play to connect the dots. So, no doubt Sirius will have already alerted his fellow Aurors (or at the very least the Order), who will send someone after that rat. Furthermore, with Sirius aware of Peter's treachery, he will know to be on the lookout. He'll keep Harry safe.

Nothing to worry about on that front – she must let the law deal with Pettigrew.

Lily has a mission to focus on. Hunting down a Dark Lord is essential (if surprisingly monotonous) work.

oooOOooo

If someone told Lily she would be chasing down an evil wizard through the woods of Albania, all the while accompanied by a cat – and dead – she would not have believed them. Not very plausible sounding, is it? And yet, here she is. In Albania.

Figures the first time Lily leaves the country, this is what she gets up to.

A least the weather is nice.

"Are we getting closer, Crooks?" she asks. The cat is currently studying some type of conifer, but at her question, he glances up. The scar from that night is still prominent on the cat's brow but has thankfully mostly healed. "Well, Crooks? Are we?"

Crookshanks tilts his head to the side, which Lily has come to learn means "yes".

"Oh," she says, taken by surprise. "Really?"

Now she is getting the feline version of a haughty huff directed her way. That would be an "obviously".

Okay, then. So, they've almost caught up with the wizard determined to kill her son. Splendid. And Lily means that in a non-sarcastic way. They have been travelling without a tangible destination for more than a week now, so hearing that they are almost there – wherever there might be – is nice.

It isn't that she doubted that he'd lead them right eventually – magical creatures have a knack for finding what they want when determined enough – but she would not put it beyond Crookshanks to get momentarily turned around. They have been travelling all over Europe – by bus, car, and even a train that one memorable time. Lily certainly found their meandering route confusing. Especially since they had yet to find a trace of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

…Well, there was that traumatized old squib who swore he'd spotted a floating head in his backyard, but Lily has her reservations about that tale.

But it seems they have been on the right track all along.

Lily can admit that she has some mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, knowing they are close feels good. On the other hand… she is still up in the air when it comes to dealing with the wizard. She'd have preferred to have a plan beyond; if poltergeists can manage to kill grown wizards, then surely so can I . It isn't like she lacks the motivation.

She isn't a poltergeist, though (...right? Merlin, she hopes not – for all that it would come in handy at the moment, that does not seem the most pleasant way to spend her afterlife). And not being a poltergeist means that Lily can't wreak havoc around the Dark Lord – no ripping up trees and throwing them at the murderer or possessing a squirrel to shove acorns down the man's throat until he chokes. Grand as that would have been. Worst case scenario Lily can spy on the man. Tell the living what he's up to and allow them to deal with it. Lily isn't much for delegation (…nor spying), but she knows better than to beat her head against a wall. Letting someone else handle He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in her steed if she proves physically unable to do anything herself – well, it's common sense.

Lily would like to think she has some of that.

So, with the bare bones of a plan, Lily follows Crookshanks through the fauna. They are walking parallel to a mountain range, the tops of the ridge just visible above the tree line if she looks up to her left and the ground sloping downwards on her right.

Crookshanks comes to a sudden halt. Lily snaps her gaze away from the mountains and refocuses on the orange fuzzball. The cat is staring intently to the right. Following Crookshanks's slitted gaze, Lily tries to spot what has the half-kneazle on alert.

It takes her a moment, but then something catches her eye. "…The snake?" she hazards. The cat exhales in affirmation. "And that's You-Know-Who?" Lily asks, a hint of scepticism noticeable in her voice. The Dark Lord could be an Animagus. It is possible. But she reasons that someone in the Order would have heard about it by now – and reported accordingly – had that been the case. After all, the man is hardly subtle (Lily will never understand why so many Dark Lords of history seem obsessed with boasting of their prowess). Thus, it's more likely that the snake is simply connected to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, not the man in disguise. And since no ordinary snake would be hanging about a snow-covered mountain range in November… a familiar, maybe?

But, to Lily's surprise, Crookshanks makes another affirmative exhale, meaning that the snake currently sunning itself on rock is, in fact, You-Know-Who.

"Well then, how should we proceed–" Lily begins to whisper, only to cut herself off when Crookshanks hurtles through the bush they were hiding behind. He bursts out of the other side in seconds – heading straight towards the snake.

My tiny fluffball is about to get eaten, she thinks with horror. Lily wastes no time before moving through the bush and flings herself down the incline. Lily's not sure how she is going to help Crookshanks, but she will be damned if she lets her cat face off against the man – snake? Animagus? – on his own.

With Lily hot on his tail, Crookshanks practically flies down the hill like a small rocket, taking agile leaps between foliage and scattering fallen leaves in his wake. Still, he's not making a racket. But it's enough for the snake to notice their approach (… using vibrations? Lily is reasonably sure snakes feel vibrations). The big reptilian rears its head and lets out an aggressive hiss.

This does not seem to deter Crookshanks.

The – possible – Animagus lunges for her cat. Crookshanks leaps out of the way, just in time to avoid the lunging snake. Then Crookshanks makes another leap and lands on a low-hanging branch. Using his momentum, Crookshanks allows the swaying branch and his speed to propel him further up. Then the half-kneazle creeps along the tree on light feet, eyes trained on the snake. The reptilian in question moves its head slowly, seemingly searching for Crookshanks but unable to find him. And Crookshanks gives it no time to locate him either. Having reached the end of the branch, the cat dives out of the tree – no, what? Crookshanks, you just got out of its reach! – landing on the Animagus's neck.

… which begins to… melt?

Lily squints. Yep – it is definitely melting. The place where Crookshanks has touched down on the snake's body is smoking. As she watches, scales liquefy around Crookshanks's paws, dripping down the reptile's sides as it hisses in agony. The reptile writhes. It turns its head and retaliates by trying to swallow Crookshanks's whole. The cat just manages to avoid the gaping maw.

With Crookshanks out of the way, Lily can see what's become of the snake's upper body. She'd thought the melting scales were terrible, but the blackening and flaking ash where Crookshanks had touched it directly is something else.

Where in Merlin's name did he learn that?!, Lily wonders, only somewhat hysterically. She certainly had not been aware that her tiny baby was capable of incinerating others upon skin contact. This feels like a concerning gap in knowledge on her part.

…Except, from the looks of it, Crookshanks had not expected to melt someone either. The cat scrunches his face together. He looks almost perplexed. But, on account of being a cat, he pays it little mind – instead, Crookshanks gleefully attacks the snake. The cat bounces around like a pinball, swiping at the Animagus and leaving behind angry burns every time he connects. Hissing, the snake attempts to strike back, but Crookshanks keeps avoiding its head while still managing to paw, claw, and straight up bite his foe.

Lily winces when one such bite leaves behind what she can describe as nothing else but boiling skin, bubbling and hissing and just plain horrid.

No, but seriously, where did Crookshanks learn this?!

…Should Lily be concerned?

Crookshanks bites the snake in two, and she concludes that, yes, she probably should be a little concerned.

She isn't thought, but then Lily has an unfortunate habit of disregarding valid concerns when her loved ones are involved.

So, it is with detached (if still a little queasy, because melting) interest she watches the snake twitch in its death throes.

It goes still.

Then there is a floating head.

Because of course there is.

Crookshanks backs away; his tiny body almost pressed flat to the ground as he moves closer to Lily. He never takes his eyes off the lightly glowing head hovering above the now-still snake.

And then Lily (who has obviously become way too used to speaking her mind, safe in the knowledge that no one will hear her) blurs out, "So there was a floating head that tried to possess an old man's garden hose."

The spectral head turns around, smoke wafting off of it, and she is suddenly confronted with the emaciated face of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… whereupon Lily, like the intelligent woman she is, asks, "Did you mistake a hosepipe for a snake?"

Loosened tongues should go die in a ditch, is what they should do.

The wizard's expression darkens further. "You dare?" the disembodied head hisses.

At this point, Crookshanks has retreated far enough for his hind legs to bump into her floating feet (and then go right through them). Lily steps closer to the floating head to hide her cat's body behind herself, all the while furiously racking her brain for a way to deal with the Dark Lord. How is she supposed the fight a floating head?

She is a ghost. She can't affect the physical world or touch that which is alive. But Mr Bodyless over there no longer is, now is he?, Lily reflects. As that thought sinks in, she feels a smirk stretch across her lips. She takes another step forward; shin raised high. "Yes," she says, "I do dare, actually."

"You," He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named spits out, indignation clear in the lines on his face.

"Me," Lily happily agrees before propelling herself forward. Now this had better work . In a move she perfected years ago, Lily pulls her fist back in preparation. It is with great satisfaction she socks the man straight in the face.

So, Lily does it again.

The disembodied head is flung backwards, rotating once, twice, thrice, before going straight through a tree and out of sight. Lily soars after, hair trailing behind as if thrown back by an invisible wind. She manages to catch up just as the spinning head stops. Judging from the way He-Who-Is-Now-A-Floating-Head unsuccessfully tries to right himself, it would seem that someoneis not yet used to their ghostly form. Sucks to be him.

Purposefully moving into the wizard's line of sight, Lily approaches the other in a graceful swoop. Hanging upside down is not enough to deter the wizard from sending her a furious glare.

Lily sends him a bright smile back. However, she suspects her eyes are still brimming with resentment, so the smile might not have the effect she was going for.

She once again forms a fist. Watching it connect with the spectre's face a third time is just as satisfying as the first two.

"This is proving rather cathartic," she muses as her knuckles collide with the other's face for the fourth time. When she draws her arm back for yet another hit, he lunges forwards with his teeth bared in an attempt to take her hand off. Lily neatly sidesteps.

"Having some trouble hitting back?" Lily asks condescendingly. "Must be hard being on the other side for once, huh?"

Morgana, I am taking way too much pleasure from this, Lily reflects. And then kicks the head of the Dark Lord like it is a weirdly mishappened football. She used to play footy with her neighbours when younger – it seems she reattained some of those skills. They allow her to pass the now screaming head from one foot to the other. It is with a pleased smile gracing her face that she sends the head flying high above with a particularly driven kick.

Then there is an unimpressed miaow from the ground next to her. Lily glances down and sees Crookshanks stare up at her reproachfully. "What?" she asks, just as the head hits the ground soundlessly. And then continues down until nothing but ghostly blue hair is visible.

…Okay, so maybe she's gotten a little carried away.

(There is something to be said about throwing stones at glass houses, though. The smell of burnt snake still permeates the air)

Still, Lily grabs the other ghost by what remains of his hair and hefts him back into the air.

It is time for the big question: how does a ghost go about ridding the world of another spirit? Lily doubts a heartfelt "it is time for you to move on" will have much impact, here.

…This is not good. She has to get rid of him as soon as possible. Lily's one advantage is – apparently – that she's been dead longer. Given enough time, He-Who-Is-Now-Dead will undoubtedly learn to fight back. And Lily does not want to take her chances with what might very well be a poltergeist. It'd be just like a Dark Lord to carry on with his planned genocide even after kicking the bucket.

Lily feels her smile waver as anxiety begins to build up. Shit, shit, shit – what to do, what to do, what to do?!

"You got any idea, Crooks-?" Before she can finish the sentence, Crookshanks leaps towards her – or rather, her hand. And then he somehow, inexplicably, swallows the Dark Lord. Straight up eats what remains of the man. "…Uh…" is the only sound Lily can make.

What the actual fuck.

The cat's whiskers begin to twitch, and Crookshanks's expression goes wonky.

Oh no. What if her cat gets possessed!? Lily does not know how to handle a possessed cat!

Before she has the time to work herself into full-blown panic, Crookshanks – for lack of a better term – burps.

It is followed by pure chaos and destruction.

Lily stares, once again speechless, at the debris surrounding her and Crookshanks. There are tree trunks strewn around like discarded toys of a particularly angry toddler having had a tantrum, stones literally blown to pieces, with the epicentre of Mr Bodyless's dramatic exit still smoking.

"That was… certainly something."

oooOOooo

Lily catches them talking about the incidenton the news.

She still has no idea what happened, but she has decided not to lock a gift house in the mouth. Well, she did actually take a look in Crookshanks's mouth, in case something was visibly wrong, but her young cat seemed as hearty as ever. So, clearly, she didn't need to look in the horse's mouth.

oooOOooo

Getting back to Britain goes much faster than leaving did. Maybe because she and Crookshanks are no longer desperately trailing He-Who-Must-Not-Be… okay, it feels silly not to use the name when the one who cast the Tabu is no longer around. The man is dead. Very, very, very dead!

Voldemort – there.

Now, as she was saying, getting back is much simpler when not trying to track someone down. Crookshanks had hopped onto another train while Lily practised her superhero skills some more.

And now they have almost made it home. Lily desperately wants to hunt down Sirius to make sure that Harry is alright, but she knows she has to make a stop before that. Much as she aches at being away from her child… someone has to let Dumbledore know Voldemort has been dealt with. Everybody's in need of a moral boost – at least they were last she checked. She would have certainly appreciated it.

Moreover, with an official notice that their master is gone, Lily figures that the less fanatic Death Eaters will cease to wreak havoc. Hopefully.

Let a ghost dream, would you?

Lily's gaze is locked on the great castle taking shape in the distance; the place she had once called her home away from home. Even if the evening is dark, it looks welcoming, with lights shining brightly out the windows. It beckons them onwards.

She and Crookshanks have almost reached the grounds when snowflakes begin to trickle down in fat clumps.

"Better hurry," she urges her companion. "We should try to get there before the weather turns for worse."

It is easier said than done when one of you is walking on teeny tiny legs. Doesn't make for a fast journey without any convenient muggle vehicle to hitch a ride with. When they reach the grounds, snow is coming down heavily. It covers everything in a thick dusting of white, erasing the pawprints Crookshanks leaves behind within moments.

Lily lets out a relieved sigh once they arrive by the stairs before the entrance door. She floats up with her back towards the door, instead focusing on her companion. By now, the young cat is huffing with irritation, having to break through snow dunes almost as large as himself. His expression darkens further with each new step he has to drag himself up.

"Almost there, only one more," she encourages the wet cat as he attempts to wiggle his way onto the last step. He gets most of his body onto the snow-covered stone, only to slip down! Lily cringes in sympathy. "Only three steps left?"

Crookshanks sends her a nasty glare (she never noticed how expressive her cat was before they undertook the task of Voldemort hunting together. It is impressive how much annoyance the half-kneazle can convey with his scrunched-up face).

"Stay positive–" a strong gust of wind pushes all the snow gathered on the overhang above the door down. Lily acts on instinct, throwing herself over the cat … only for the snow to fall straight through her. She floats up a couple of inches and then glances down at the pile. Lily winces.

Crookshanks emerges in an explosion of white, rivulets of water running down his body (now fluffier than ever) as the spell she cast on his collar when alive melts the snow. "At least you're not cold?" she adds weekly. A near-mutinous scowl is sent her way. "I guess I deserved that."

After a couple of fumbling manoeuvres (and another tumble), the two of them are finally stood in front of the door. That is still closed.

It is during moments like these Lily wonders if being a poltergeist would truly be that bad.

She looks at the next obstacle in their path. "I don't suppose you'll magically let us in?" Lily asks the door. "Alohomora?" No luck. "Open sesame? … No. Knock knock?" Lily closes her eyes, this close to screaming. She really, really does not want to leave her cat out here on his own. "How about… please?" she suggests without much hope.

The door swings open.

Lily instinctively leaps back, but the giant door still goes through the tip of her nose. Meanwhile, Crookshanks lets out a horrific yowl as he is flung off the stairs, sending up another explosion of snow as he once again ends up neck-deep in the stuff.

oooOOooo

It is a dripping and furiously hissing Crookshanks that accompanies Lily through the corridor. She's finished her talk with Dumbledore and is now heading towards the nearest open fireplace – she thinks Crooks needs it, at this point. If only to better his mood.

"I doubt the castle meant to push you off the stairs, Crooks," Lily tries to appease the cat. Crookshanks looks sceptical, though. Which Lily supposes is fair, considering the half-kneazle has somehow run across no less than four false steps since entering that castle. Not to mention that a glass brimming with water mysteriously fell on him just as he managed to dry himself after the tumble in the snow.

Lily decides it's the better part of valour for her to change the topic. After a moment of floundering, Lily says, "So, was it just me, or did the headmaster act a little odd when I told him about the floating head?"

Crookshanks twitches his nose in what she is going to assume means, "No, I thought so too."

"Right? I'd have thought he would be happier about it. But then, I guess he seemed stressed." With the amount of paperwork covering the office and the sheer size of the old wizard's eyebags, Lily is surprised he even had time to see her at all. Dumbledore asked her to return later, so there must be something else he wants to discuss. At least Lily has something to do while waiting. Like figuring out where in the world Sirius might have run off to with Harry. With that slimy traitor aware of all their hideouts, her friend would have had to get creative.

But Lily and Crookshanks managed to find Voldemort in Albania; this is bound to be more straightforward. Surely.

"Yer a ghost, Lily?!"

Lily jumps at the sudden exclamation, turning quickly. And then she relaxes when she sees who it is. "Oh, hello, Hagrid." She greets the gamekeeper of Hogwarts with a small smile. Her expression falls when she sees giant teardrops gather in the man's eyes."No, no, wait, don't cry." Lily sends a desperate look Crookshanks's way. She does not know how to handle sad people! That is supposed to be James's task…

"Ye- yer," Hagrid stutters, tears running down his cheeks in rivulets.

Oh, Merlin. Please make the tears stop.

Okay. Okay. Lily has this.

"A ghost, yes," she repeats. Soothingly? She hopes? "It's quite alright, you know. Being dead. Not nearly as disconcerting as some of the Hogwarts ghosts make it out to be." Tears are still running. "Eh..."

Morgana's saggy left breast, Lily does not have this.

Lily once again looks at Crookshanks. "Help," she mouths.

The bastard cat is laughing at her.

"It's jus' – it's so–" Hagrid blubbers out. Lily loses most of what the poor man tries to get across, but a particular sentence abruptly catches her attention. "-little one cryin' the entire time–"

"Wait," she interrupts sharply. "What was that about Harry?"

"Harry? Sirius Black asked me ter watch ‘im. Said he was headin' after a traitor," Hagrid begins, voice wobbly with sadness. "On'y heard o' it the day after – how he an' Pettigrew duelled in some muggle area, both dyin' in the explosion… an' then they found his mark on Pettigrew's arm. Awful business, simply awful…"

Sirius had done what now?!

Did her friend let Harry out of his sight even after she and James specifically asked him to watch over the baby multiple times. And… oh, God, Sirius is dead?!

Lily cuts off her racing thoughts. She will have to process it later.

"Hagrid," Lily says as evenly as she can, non-existent heart still feeling like it will beat out of her chest, "where is Harry now? With Alice and Frank?"

The half-giant's expression grows even more despondent. As Lily listens to Hagrid's somewhat stuttered explanation of what she has missed, she too tears up at how the story unfolds.

Until they reach the end.

"Dumbledore left him with Tuney?!" she roars in outrage. When Hagrid flinches back in surprise, Lily attempts o quench her temper. It is not him she is angry at, after all.

She turns around abruptly, heading straight towards the headmaster's office. Screw talking later. She and Albus Dumbledore are about to have words.

Chapter Text

That stupid, noble, hot-headed mutt, Lily snarls in her head while marching down the dimly lit Privet Drive. She can understand Sirius wanting to go after the traitor (she can. Truly. It is a very understandable thing to do. She would have gutted that little rat herself if given the chance).  But leaving Harry? Without even ensuring someone suitable was there to take over? Unacceptable.

She lets out another angry huff as she tries to remember which house belongs to her sister. Dumbledore did give her the address… but Lily had been far too busy flinging profanities at her old headmaster to pay attention. In hindsight, she recognizes that this was not her brightest moment; it doesn't mean she will go back and ask.

Mutterings about meddlesome old men join Lily's mental tirade.

She pokes her head through a window of a promising-looking house, but concludes that it's not Tuney's, and thus continues on, still stewing internally. Maybe she is being too harsh – no, she knows she is. Who else would Dumbledore have given Harry to? All of her and James's friends are either dead or, in Remus's case, deeply undercover. And neither she nor James has much family left. The Black sisters are probably the closest to James in the relation department, but… Andromeda and her family hid over a year ago, leaving no way to contact them – and the less said about Bellatrix Lestrange, the better. So, with things being what they are, Lily is reasonably sure Harry's care would have automatically gone to Narcissa Malfoy were it not for outside interference. Narcissa Malfoy: a philanthropist who has absolutely no ties to the Death Eaters whatsoever . Officially.

Lily does not want her son to be raised by Malfoys. Even without getting into who they officially didn't work for during the civil war, there are issues with it. What if they turned Harry into one of those arrogant little pureblood snots she went to school with? The sheer amount of bigotry some of them held could be seen from the moon.

Which leaves Tuney.

Lily hates to think the worst of her sister. Perhaps Petunia won't take out her dislike of Lily on Harry… But Tuney is also the kind of person who will send a rotting cabbage head as a bridal gift. Not that Lily should be throwing stones. She did put a dead mouse in Tuney's wedding shoes not three months later. All the more reasons, though! Lily does not place pettiness above her sister – it clearly runs in their family.

Admittedly, the main reason behind Dumbledore's decision is that Lily's ritual has granted all of her own blood magical protection. Protection, which strengthens with the amount of blood present. Any ward raised around Tuney's residence will be much stronger than a normal one. An unforeseen effect… but not a bad one. Considering that Lily had no idea what she was doing (not something one can learn in school – blood sacrifices being a criminal offence and all), this is more than she hoped for.

So, from a tactical standpoint, placing Harry with Tuney is sound. No magical with ill intentions will even perceive Harry's presence within the neighbourhood for years. There is no place on Earth where Lily's boy can be more protected from magical threats.

Still… it's Tuney.

Dumbledore admitted that placing Harry with Lily's muggle sister is not ideal. That Professor McGonagall had reported them to be horribly mundane, and Lily's nephew had been somewhat unruly. That it might not be the best place for a young wizard to grow up. But "the benefits outweigh the harm, Lily," and "there is no place safer for the boy."

Humph.

Excuse her if she disagrees with that assessment. She's going to ascertain the situation with her own eyes.

And this is why she is making her way through the houses of Surrey in the middle of the night (having left an irate Crookshanks behind at Hogwarts with a promise to come get him after making sure Harry is alright).

Lily passes to and from each house, studying the names on the letterboxes. She is pretty sure Tuney married a man named Kearsley…

She glances down at another slot. Dursley. That… could be it? Worth a look, anyway.

Lily phases through the door and into a shadowed entry hallway. She looks around, trying to figure out whether the floral print feels Tuney-esque or not. Further in, she sees a couple of picture frames on the wall. She approaches them. The light emanating from Lily is enough for her to discern the couple hugging on the picture. It is Petunia's place.

Lily propels herself up, emerging through the floor of the second story. There's a door ajar to her right. Through the opening, Lily can see the outlines of a nursery. The blinds are pulled, but her own flickering light is enough to scan the room. 

One crib.

Lily moves closer, going through the door to take in the room at large.

There is still only one crib.

Tuney has had him for weeks now, Lily thinks with irritation as she stalks over to peer into the cot, has she seriously not gotten another crib yet?  Well, Lily does not put it above her hag of a sister to have the children share... but it's not like skin contact will be bad for the kids.

…

There is only one child in the crib; it is peacefully snoozing away under a nest of fluffy blankets and is very much not Lily's child.

She checks Tuney's room next.

No luck.

The other two doors. A bathroom and an office.

No Harry.

Lily worries her bottom lip between her teeth and feels anxiety rising as she looks through the attic, the kitchen, and the sitting room… and finds no trace of her baby. Where–

thud

The sound is so soft Lily almost misses it. She looks in the direction it originated from and sees – a cupboard. For a moment, she does nothing but stare. Surely not…

When Lily's head passes through the thin door, she cannot hold back a gasp at what greats her. On a thin mattress, thrown onto the bare floor, lies Harry. It takes scarce seconds to take it in; the dried tear tracks, the way her baby sniffles even in sleep, shifting as if having trouble finding peace…

It- it could be worse. He has obviously been fed; the clothes, while noticeably too big, are clean; from what Lily can see his diaper has been changed recently.

Harry's lip trembles, and as she watches, he whines softly. Tiny shivers wreak his frame, his body barely covered by a single woollen quilt even though it is snowing outside.

Lily sees red.

When next she can think coherent thoughts, she's hovering outside Tuney's room, harsh breaths she no longer needs wheezing out of her. Lily tries to calm down, to stop herself from rushing in there to scream bloody murder. What good will mindless ranging do? Tuney is a muggle; chances are she wouldn't even be able to hear Lily. At most, the screaming would only distress Harry. That- she does not want that.

Lily goes back downstairs.

For a moment, she does nothing but observe her baby's restless slumber. She- she did not expect this; did not truly think Tuney would take her grudge on Lily out on a toddler.

Magical protection be damned. Lily has to get Harry out of here. But to where? To whom?

Marlene is long gone, Sirius is dead, Mary and Dorcas too, Pettigrew is a traitor, Alice and Frank were tortured to insanity, Remus absconded to who knows where to play double agent (after Sirius – the idiot – accused him of being a Death Eater) and is probably also dead, and… well, there isn't anyone else, is there?

All of her close friends, just… gone.

There isn't anyone else in the Order who could feasibly take Harry in, either – and after Pettigrew, even fewer Lily would trust to do so.

There's no one-

… well.

But, no, Lily couldn't possibly. No. Just – no.

This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. In fact, it is the worst idea.

… but.

Up until a couple of years ago, there would have been no one she trusted more. Her brother in everything but blood. There are many reasons she should not. So, so, so many reasons.

But.

When between a rock and a hard place, does she have a choice? 

If James was here right now, he would probably be livid with her for even contemplating it. Lily herself of a couple of days ago would have shared that notion.

But.

Tuney stuffed Harry in a freezing cupboard in the middle of winter.

Can she trust Severus Snape to be any better, though?

She closes her eyes, tries to reason with herself; but a movie of Harry, shaking on the thin mattress, continues to play behind her eyelids.

Severus, though.   

……  Lily is eleven and can't hold back a chuckle when she hears Tuney screech from inside the house, even as Severus hisses, "Shut up, Lily," from where he is hiding next to her in a bush. He places his hand over her mouth while continuing to hush frantically. For all the good it does.

"Sorry, sorry," she whispers back between bouts of giggles. She presses her lips together tightly. The laughter stops.

Meeting Severus's black eyes, they stare at one another in silence for a moment. Then they both burst into laughter, and not even biting into their respective shirtsleeves is enough to muffle the sounds entirely. Because they did it. They managed to cut the hair off every single doll Petunia ownes and glued it to the covers of her bead spread – without getting caught!

She grins at him, wide and feral. "We are bloody geniuses, Severus."

He mirrors her grin, teeth bared and flashing. "Maybe she'll think twice before throwing your comics into a river next time." ……

……  Lily is thirteen, and she throws another Popping Popcorn at Severus's hands, currently covering his face. The magical popcorn connects and lets out a puff of white smoke. Severus sinks further down the transfigured beanbag as if wishing for it to swallow him whole. They are hiding in an abandoned classroom because Severus has something important to tell her. Although now it looks like he rather regrets that decision. Sucks to suck.

"Would you let off," he groans. At this point, his face is so red someone could see the blush from miles away – his hands not nearly enough to hide behind. "I shouldn't have told you. Should have known what a rotten idea it was."

"Well, maybe if you go back to your common room, you'll get the chance to stutter at ~Lucius~ some more," she singsongs. Lily clears her throat and then begins to speak, her voice pitched in an imitation of Severus's. "Oh, Malfoy! Please forgive me for whacking your nuts with my head."

"I tripped!" Severus screeches.

Lily nods sagely. "Of course, of course. Still doesn't retract from the fact that you're now very well acquainted with Lucius Malfoy's crotch, now does it?"

Severus lets out a noise of a dying whale. Lily throws her head back and laughs with her entire belly.

"You are the worst."

Severus continues his endeavour to become one with the upholstery… and Lily is only human. "But Sev, maybe if you ask really nicely Malfoy will-"

Severus lets out a howl of war and then tackles her with enough force to send her chair toppling.

Ten minutes later, they are both breathing harshly, hair in disarray and school robes creased.

"Malfoy, though," she feels compelled to point out (again). "I mean, sure, he's handsome–" Lily smirks – "and apparently very well endowed–"

"Lily!"

"– but he's still the most bigoted, arrogant tosser Hogwarts has ever seen –"

"I know."

"– and I bet you he uses human sacrifices to keep his hair looking like that –"

"I know."

"– and honestly, Sev, you're better than this," she finishes with a condescending ruffle of his hair.

Severus sighs and stares up at the ceiling as if it holds the answers to all life's questions. "But he's so pretty, though," he whines and, really, what is Lily supposed to say to that? It's true, after all.

"Think positively; you could have collided with Narcissa Black. Sure, you wouldn't be dying of embarrassment right now – but that's because you'd already be dead. Small mercies, yes?"

Severus turns pale at that notion. "Thank you, Lily, for providing such uplifting commentary."

"You're welcome, you old man." That said, Lily decides to take pity on her friend and push the subject in another direction. "Want to commiserate with me about how awful the Marauders–" and she cannot but roll her eyes at the name, because come on– "are?"

Severus grumbles some to show that he is not yet ready to accept her peace offering, so she knocks their shoulder together. "Come on," Lily cajoles. "We can plan out how we will retaliate next time they're being insufferable toerags? I was thinking fire–"

And Severus smiles. After a moment, he too begins to offer up ideas, because if there is one thing the two of them are good at, it is coming up with elaborate revenge schemes ……

……  Lily is fifteen, and she is screaming at Severus because he just stood there while one of her fellow muggle-borns was being all but tortured. Severus was laughing "– many times am I going to have to defend you, huh?! How can I even defend what you are doing?! They were hurting him, Sev, and you just stood there! What, do you think watching reduces culpability?! I- I just- I-" She sucks in air through her teeth, reaching for coherence, but the blood pounding in her ears drowns out all rational thoughts. "Gha! I can't stand even looking at you!" she finishes her rant with a yell, and she is so mad it feels like her blood is boiling and-

And Severus looks devastated as he stares at her, his clenched hands shaking. "And what would you have me do?" he demands, shoulders tense but eyes filled with hurt.

"I–" she begins, but he interrupts her.

"Lily, you know why I – why I c-can't…" and it's a plea. It is a plea, and Lily does know. It is in the way Severus no longer dares to put his wand away when he is sleeping, the way he always looks over his shoulder and the way he fears entering the Slytherin common room some days because ‘what if they remember that my father is a muggle, Lily? I've never said anything, but it's all in the last name. Sometimes they look at me, and I think they want to kill me'.

Lily pulls him close, because what else can she do? "I know," she whispers, "I know. I'm sorry for yelling."

Severus has no choice… at least that's what she tells herself. But Lily can think of at least five Slytherins that wouldn't hurt a fly at the top of her head. And that's only in her year. But Severus just had to attach himself to the walking scumbags, didn't he?

…Is she being unfair? They are his roommates… and she can't… Lily does not want to abandon him. She can't just leave him with them. She just- she can't.

(But sometimes, she looks at Severus, and she doesn't recognise him anymore.

And that scares her.)

Later, when they sit huddled next to a wall under a blanket Lily summoned, she offers, "If – if you think it'd help we could stop talking in public. And you could always call me a mudblood too." Because Lily would not mind, not really. It's just a stupid slur, and Lily could give less than a rat's ass what those narrowminded little maggots think about her. It is just a word. Lily refuses to let a derogatory phrase hold any power over her.

It doesn't. It doesn't.

But Severus shakes his head harshly. "I would never."

"I wouldn't care–"

"No."

"Severus–"

"No," he reiterates. "You are my best friend. I know you've never cared about others' opinions, that ‘words don't matter if you don't let them,' but… but it matters to me. You matter to me, Lily, and I… I can't do that to you."

Lily makes sure he is looking at her when she says, grinning, "Love you too, Sev."

Severus splutters and tries to push her away, but Lily stubbornly hugs him closer. After a moment, he stops fighting, even if he continues to grumble about it.

"I'm serious, you know," he mutters sullenly. "The day I call you a mudblood is the day we cease to be friends."

Overdramatic moron, Lily thinks fondly. "I'll hold you to that," she jokes ……

……  Lily is seventeen, and has not talked to her oldest friend in over a year.

And now she's agreed to meat up in an abandoned classroom that used to be theirs.

They haven't even said anything yet, and she's already exhausted. What am I doing here, she thinks.

"They want me to join," Severus says.

"So decline."

Severus just shakes his head and says nothing. It makes something vicious inside her stir. Because Lily looks at Severus… and sometimes she thinks she hates him.

She remembers some of their last conversations. If they can even be called that.

Humph. Poor aristocrats are being ‘misunderstood', are they? Horribly oppressed and suffering in their giant mansions, is that right?

Funny how their solution to this has begun to sound more and more like genocide with every rallying speech Lily catches on the radio.   

And as if hearing her thoughts, the words still echoing in her mind soon come tumbling out of Severus's mouth.

"Can you even hear yourself?!" Lily yells when she can't take it anymore. It's hogwash! All of it! And Lily did not sign up to listen to it.

Lily's harsh breaths are the only sound in the otherwise ringing silence. Finally, her voice barely under control, she asks, "Are you trying to convince me or yourself? I mean- what even is this?" She sighs, resigned. "Just…  just go, Sev. Okay? Just go."

"Lily-"

"No," she interrupts, feeling so very tired. "There's a difference between going along with something because you're a fourteen-year-old afraid to get hurt and joining what's basically a terrorist organisation. If you can't spot that distinction, I don't know what to tell you."

Sure, some of the arguments coming out of Severus's mouth have merit… and she's sure she'd feel more sympathetic if the persons feeding those words to him didn't also want to kill Lily – and her entire family and neighbourhood while they're at it.

Severus opens his mouth. And so it begins again. Severus's words begin to float together, become static, and Lily-

Lily closes her eyes.

"- and if you'd just listen-"

"Go away," she interrupts.

"…What?"

"I said, get out of my sight!" ……

…… Lily is eighteen, and her former friend is a Death Eater. She'd known, of course she had –  but there was something viscerally wrong with the proof of it being thrown in her face. Literally. There is nothing like having an explosive potion you helped invent heading towards you. If Lily had been even a second slower to dodge…

The people she set out with hadn't the same luck. Lily is growing tired of funerals ……

…… Lily is nineteen and feels tired down to her bones. The rain is pelting down outside, and it is so dark that Lily has to light multiple candles to see the documents on her desk. There's so much to do. Yet, all Lily wants in this moment is to sit down with a book and forget the rest of the world exists. Conducting her work as a researcher, pitching in to restock the Order's potion supplies, and accidentally having participating in outright battles is beginning to wear her thin. But her boss wants these documents tomorrow, and something tells Lily the woman paying her bills won't accept "but I've been baby sitting some of my fellow muggle-borns on their school supply trips" as a valid excuse for skipping out on her assignments.

So, all-nighter it is.

At least her lovable but entirely insufferable husband isn't here to distract her, away at work as he is. Lily is looking forward to an evening on her own: if she's going to be stuck working all evening, the least she can do is treat herself to something nice. There are still some of Mary's homemade pastries in the-

There's a crack of Apparition.

Lily is out of her chair with wand in hand on instinct. She hunkers down, making her way towards the front door while keeping low. Three people have been shot through the windows of their homes this last month – Lily is not about to become another statistic. The light from the study does not reach the hall, and the candles present are unlit, leaving the space in shadows. Trusting the darkness to hide her and the falling rain to cover any sound, Lily makes it to the door and peers out the spyhole.

The first thing she sees is Severus Snape, looking like a drowned dog and shifting uneasily on her doorstep –  and is that a corpse lying next to him?!

Lily flings the door open, a spell on the tip of her tongue-

"Wait, is that Mulciber?" she blurts out. It throws her off, enough so that her spell fizzles out. Lily bends down, taking the corpse in. It is indeed Mulciber. Shaggy black hair, Dark Mark… and a jagged line along his throat so deep she's surprised the man's head is still attached to his body. "What the actual hell, Sev?" The nickname falls off her lips, and she barely registers it.

Because what?

Why is there a dead body on her doorstep?!

Severus shifts restlessly again, throwing a furtive glance at the wand Lily still has aimed at him. "Uhm… Hello, Lily?"

"What are you doing here?"

After years of mutual radio silence – and you know, Severus joining a terrorist organisation whose sole purpose is murdering people as painfully as magically possible – this man just turns up out of the blue? With a dead body.

Lily is having a hard time getting over the dead body.

It's kind of conspicuous, what with Mulciber's blood currently doing it's finest to sink into the floorboards of her veranda.

Severus follows her gaze and winces. He does not say anything, though, just continues to stand there. The silence is only broken by the rain pounding down on the roof.

Lily valiantly holds back the impulse to grind her teeth in frustration. "Well? What are you doing here?" she repeats more forcefully.

"I." Severus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I… I need-your-help." It looks like it was physically painful to force the words out.

Her eyebrows rise of their own volition. "Excuse me?" 

Severus's jaw clenches. "I said that I need your. Help… please."

Lily lets out an incredulous huff, something halfway to a laugh. Just. The sheer  gall of this man? "What? Are you- are you serious right now?" She stares at Severus, waiting for him to take the words back, but the man mulishly keeps eye contact. Dear Merlin, he is serious, isn't he? "Did you hit your head?"

"Lily. Please."

"This is so surreal," she mutters to herself. And then she levels her wand with Severus Adam's apple. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't set you on fire."

"…I didn't know what to do."

Lily indicates the corpse by tilting her head in its direction, without taking her eyes off Severus. "So, that's your doing, then?" When he says nothing, Lily presses her wand harder against his throat. "Did you get in a spat? Couldn't decide which one of you had first dibs on today's victim?"

Severus presses his lips together, first now breaking eye contact. With each additional second of avoidance, Lily feels her temper fray further. But then, finally, Severus grumbles out, barely high enough to be heard over the storm, "The bastard was about to rape someone. It- what was I supposed to do?" He looks back into her eyes. "She was thirteen, Lily. Thirteen and dying, and he wanted to…."

"Was?"

Again, Severus says nothing, and Lily knows the little girl is dead. And Severus is just standing there- gah! Lily is this close to-

Instead, she tentatively draws her wand back, although she keeps it aimed at the wizard across from her. Lily is tempted, oh so tempted, to stun Severus and leave him to the tender mercies of the Auror force. But He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has people inside the Ministry. People who would let the wizard know that one of his lackeys had turned on a fellow killer. And the Dark Lord is infamous for how he deals with "traitors".  Looking at Severus, drenched and shivering – even after everything, Lily does not want this piece of filth she used to call her friend to die. A fact which makes her more angry.

"What was I supposed to do?" Severus repeats, sounding subdued.

Lily scoffs. "Maybe begin by getting some better friends." And stop making shitty life choices, she does not say, but Lily assumes her expression conveys the sentiment nonetheless. Eventually, though, Lily sighs, almost every part of her hating herself for the decisions she's about to make. She'll do it anyway. "And you could have called ahead."

"Do you still have those ten-step-plans on how to get rid of a body?"

She- he just- gah! "You think you can just turn up, and I'll drop everything to help you get away with murder?!" He knows her too well, dammit. "For the love of… " Lily finally lowers her wand and steps back into the house. Emotions, still a mix of anger and old hurts, make her movements sharper than usual as she pulls on a coat and a pair of rubber boots. Then she stuffs the wand into her holster. Grumbling to herself, she stomps onto the veranda and continues out into the rain. When Severus doesn't immediately follow her, Lily impatiently gestures with her hand. "Well?" she prompts harshly. "What are you waiting for? The queen of England? Bodies don't get rid of themselves, you know."

During the evening, she throws every derogatory comment she can think of Severus's way. But the words don't hold a candle to those she are flinging her own way internally.

What is she doing?

Still, soon enough there's no trace of Mulciber left.

Before leaving, Lily makes it abundantly clear that if Severus ever shows his face around her again, she's perfectly capable of hiding another body. Specifically, Severus's body. Lily hates that the words feel like a lie even as she says them ……

oooOOooo

Lily makes her way out of Tuney's unspeakably boring home, not pleased to leave Harry behind again but seeing no alternatives.

She takes off, flying towards her childhood home.

Lily has a plan now. It is not her greatest plan – in fact, it's probably one of her worst ones. But she's reasonably sure Severus turned his back on the Death Eaters; the timing of the Order gaining a spy in the enemy ranks fits a little to well with other events for her to think otherwise. She's basing her conclusion on conjunctions that probably means nothing to most, but appear glaringly obvious to Lily.

Judging by the night Lily died, Severus is not out to kill her son. Doesn't mean the man will want to help her, though. After all, Severus very much dislikes children – but surely not even he can do worse than Tuney, even on accident.

…Merlin, she hopes he won't. Because her current plan B is even worse than the Severus one –and the Severus plan is awful. It goes as follows:

One) find Severus, and then blackmail him into babysitting. With the emphasis on blackmail, because, and this cannot be mentioned enough times, Severus despises children (they – entirely and truly unironically – give him hive).

Two) do not let Severus out of her sights for even a second. Lily will trust anyone with Harry's welfare, much less a (former) Death Eater, anytime soon. Especially not a man who probably hasn't interacted with a child since he was one himself, what with his self-proclaimed intent never to step foot in the vicinity of any ankle biters. Ever.

Lily does not have high hopes for this plan.

Three) teach Severus how to care for another person. Seeing as Severus could scarcely care for himself last she looked, this step of the plan is integral. Someone who has on multiple occasions gotten so invested in their project that they forgot to shower, eat, and sleep for days on end… well, not the first person she would have choose as her child's temporary guardian. Or the second. Or third.

Yet here she is.

Which brings her to the last part of the plan. Four) as soon as it seems Severus will not get Harry killed by negligence, Lily will find Remus. At this point, the wizard is Lily's only hope.

She does not let herself consider the possibility of him being dead (because then Severus truly will have to raise her baby, and no one wants that. No one).

But all of this is a problem for future Lily to deal with. First, she has to reach Cokeworth.

Severus had better be there, or else.

oooOOooo

Lily pointedly does not hesitate before entering Severus's house. This takes significant willpower, considering this is an awful plan. She wants to turn back already.

She checks the ground floor first, but Severus isn't hiding in the pile of research material strewn across the living room floor nor amongst the unwashed teacups clogging up his sink (such an awful plan).  Lily comforts herself with the fact that it is, at least, only teacups in the sink, and thus Severus must know how to do the rest of his dishes… unless the lack of plates indicates a lack of eating. Which is a distinct possibility should Severus be on a manic experimentation spree.

(Such. An. Awful. Plan.)

The upper floor turns up an expertly made bed, a wardrobe filled with only black clothes, and a surprising number of historical-fiction novels. There is, however, a distinct lack of any living beings.

Lily returns to the living room.

She stares at Severus's lumpy couch with irritation while contemplating her options. If Severus is on the verge of making some ground-breaking discovery – as evidence would suggest – it seems unlikely that he would leave his home for anything short of the apocalypse. Severus having disappeared is out of character–

A mighty BANG shakes the very foundation of the house, the walls vibrating. From the kitchen comes the sound of splintering glass, the precariously stacked teacups having met their doom, followed by the muffled sound of someone shouting.

Lily sticks her head through the floor. She is met by the upside-down view of a cauldron billowing smoke, the charcoaled remains of what might have been a working bench, and Severus frantically attempting to put out a fire. Expletive yelling accompanies the noise of Severus repeatedly bashing his outer robe against the burning table.

"–die you little–"

"You do know that you're a wizard, yes?" Lily interrupts.

The litany of curse words cuts off. Severus spares her a glance before the smacking reassumes with renewed fervour. "The fabric is fire repellent."  

"And somehow, I still think a fire-extinguishing spell would be more effective. As someone who regularly sets fire to his things, I would have assumed you'd know that too."

Severus mumbles something in reply, but it is lost to the crackling of burning wood. And the sound of inefficient fire smothering, of course.

"What was that?" Lily prods. With a thought, she continues down and turns upright. Severus does not appear to be in the best of shapes. Eyes sunken and red (although the latter is probably due to all the smoke), and cheekbones poking out like… well, like something pointy. Like a pointy, angry bone. Anyway. Severus really should be eating more. Living solely on tea has not done him any favours. "No, but seriously," she continues, "why are you trying to beat the fire into submission?"

The only answer she gets is gritted teeth.

Well then, goading it is. "Severus~" Lily says in the most obnoxious tone possible.

She is being ignored in favour of table-smacking.

"Severus~"

More teeth grinding. And honestly, that must be getting uncomfortable by now. That man's poor jaw.

Eyes looking straight ahead, Severus ultimately replies with a scathing, "It blew up!"

Lily takes a moment to digest those words.

And then she dissolves into laughter. "Wait, wait," Lily huffs out between guffaws, "did you just–" cackle– "insinuate–" cackle– "that you broke your wand?"

Lily has to break off as she is once again overcome by laughter. Compose yourself, compose yourself, she repeats in her mind. This is sad. Losing your wand is a tragedy. Amusing oneself with another's misfortune is mean, the worst type of schadenfreude.

But it is just… so entertaining.

No, no, self-control.

Composure regained, Lily meets Severus's eyes. She is using serious restraint to keep a straight face, but she is keeping it. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I loathe your very existence."

Lips pressed together (do not laugh), she nods solemnly. "Understandable."

Fifteen minutes later sees the fire extinguished (which is nothing short of a miracle) and all smoking objects doused. Lily also learns that it was not Severus's wand that met its untimely end, but his late mother's.

…Now she does feel bad for laughing. Damn it.

"But what about your wand, then?" Lily asks in confusion once they make their way back upstairs.

"Being held at the ministry ‘until further notice'," Severus says with derision. "One of the requirements for my release after the trial."

Trial. Because Severus was a Death Eater. Albeit a rather poor one, all things considered – but even so, Lily cannot believe she forgot to consider this aspect. Of course anyone associated with the now-deceased Dark Lord would be put on trial. And Severus being beholden to the Ministry's whims and wandless to boot… well, it throws a stick in the wheel of pretty much all of Lily's short-term plans. Damn it again.

Will Severus even be able to get Harry without magical means?

No, no, Lily can fix this. It's not that big an issue to get around. Utilizing public muggle transport is a good start.

Deciding there is no time to beat around the bush, Lily faces Severus head-on. "I've a favour to ask."

oooOOooo

Breaking into a house without magic is difficult for those who have grown reliant on magical means. Not to say that she and Severus don't manage when putting their heads together – of course, they do – but Lily will be unable to ever look at Severus the same again. Watching a grown man desperately crawling through a small window will do that to a person.  

At the moment, however, Lily pushes her newly-acquired mental scars to the back of her mind and instead focuses on leading Severus through the house. She finds Harry in the same state she left him in, shivering and alone.

Severus scowls. "She stuffed him in a cupboard?"

Lily hushes him, not wanting the other inhabitants to wake up. "Just pick him up, would you?" Stiffly, Severus goes to do so. From a permanently charmed side pocket, Severus retrieves a duvet he picked up before they went and bundles Harry up. He then scoops the baby into his arms.

It could be a heart-warming picture.

Except.

"Of, for –" Lily rushes forwards. "What are you doing? You have to support his head! No, no, stop that! Like this. Like this." Demonstrating the correct hold in the air for the third time, Severus finally seems to grasp the concept.

Lily lets out a weary sigh.

Honestly, this is such an awful idea. It can not be said enough times.

"That's… adequate," she declares at last. "No one's an expert from the start; but with enough training, anyone can learn. And you are about to get a lot of training." Severus looks slightly green at that proclamation. "Now, how about we go and divest my darling sister of some supplies."

Holding Harry like the baby might spontaneously combust, Severus follows Lily as she makes her way to the kitchen. Tuney is about to be three bottles poorer. Oh, and some baby food, oatmeal and a couple of spoons as well. Severus, with more directions from Lily, transfers Harry into a one-armed hold. Using his freed arm, he fills his now empty pocket with their spoils.

Lily observes critically, ensuring the other won't drop Harry. Seeing that Severus has a handle on things, she goes in search of diapers. She finds them tucked away in the bathroom. Next to the diapers are baby lotions and oils, but Lily elects to ignore them since they won't hold a candle to anything Severus can brew himself anyway.

Minutes later finds the pair of them exiting Tuney's home – this time through the front door, luckily. No need to expose anyone to Severus's crawling skills again.

"And back to the bus station we go," Lily says.

They do indeed go.

Sadly, the next bus won't arrive for another 40 minutes. Which is not great, and is about to become even less great, as Harry stirs. Severus shoots her a helpless look. "What do I do?"

Lily continues to be astounded by how out of his depth Severus is. The man perfectly resembles a wild-eyed, petrified stick. "Just rock him a little, like – huh. Yes, actually. Exactly like that. I am genuinely impressed by how much you do not suck at that."

"You flatter me," Severus says with a sneer.  

Lily floats closer until she can gaze down at her son from above. Green eyes meet her own. "Well, hello, my heart. Did we wake you up, mm?" She caresses a cheek, only to abort the motion halfway through. She wants to hold her baby so much her heart physically aches with it. She wants to scowl, scream, express her anger at the situation somehow – but suppresses the instinct in favour of smiling at Harry. "Look who came to get you. It's Dour Sevvy! No more mean Aunt Tuney," she finishes, blowing an exaggerated raspberry to Harry's delight. Tinkling giggles ring out, and Lily's smile becomes less strained.

Severus continues to rock from side to side.

"You know," Lily says after a while, when Harry has once again begun to dose off, "For a while there, I was unsure if you'd even seen a baby before."

Severus's lips thins with indignation. "Of course I have. I am keeping it calm now, aren't I?"

Lily nods gravely. "Yes, yes. You look very natural. A true master of soothing motion. Not at all like someone who was panicking five seconds ago."

"I was not."

"Sure you weren't."

"I wasn't."

If Lily had a corporeal body, she would have given him a condescending pat on the shoulder. As it is, she settles for the Unimpressed Eyebrow of Doubt. She has gotten very good at that one. It worked wonders for dealing with her husband and Sirius.

"I'll have you know that I am a godfather," Severus retorts.

Lily tries to digest the sentence. And then has to try some more.

"You're a godfather?!"

"Yes."

Lily squints, trying to catch him in a lie. "A godfather." She inserts a massive amount of disbelief in that statement. It is nothing less than it deserves. "Are you sure you didn't hallucinate?"

Severus's facial muscles twitch. "Yes, Lily."

He is serious. Oh, but this is priceless.

"Someone wants to make you their child's primary caretaker in an emergency. Willingly? They must have been desperate."

"…You're doing the same thing."

"And I am desperate, so that checks out."

Lily would like to say that she only laughed slightly at Severus's subsequent expression.

oooOOooo

They have almost reached their intended bus stop when Harry reawakens. Her little darling goes from being slightly grumpy when they get off the bus, to throwing a full-on temper tantrum by the time the reach Severus's house. Lily fears for Severus's sanity. The man is on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.

"Calm down," Lily says soothingly. And not to the baby. "Deep breaths, Severus. You getting worked up will only exacerbate the problem." The problem in question being that Harry is hungry. Having been so close to their destination when Harry woke up, Severus thought it better to wait. He had seemed unwilling to handle the messy business of child feeding while outside in the middle of the night. The decision has quite clearly misfired on him.

Severus looks down at Harry's scrunched-up face beseechingly. "Please be quiet."

If he is using the word ‘please', things are indeed dire. That nervous breakdown is imminent.

With only minimal fumbling, Severus gets the door open. "It's okay, it's okay," Severus shushes the baby. He is obviously trying to take Lily's advice to heart. And failing miserably. "We're almost there now- AAHHH!"

Lily is in front of Severus in seconds, ready to assess the threat.

Only to blink down dumbly when she notices the orange fluffball sitting on the floor. "Wha- Crookshanks? Weren't you supposed to stay in Scotland?"

Crookshanks looks up at her imperiously.

"Why," Severus begins with forced calm, "is there a cat in my hall?"

"I have no clue."

Severus opens his mouth as if commencing an interrogation, but Harry is still making his unhappiness known – loudly – and Severus seems to think better of it. With the resigned look of someone who's day has already gone from odd to odder, he makes his way around the cat. Then he disappears into the kitchen.   

Lily redirects her gaze to Crookshanks. "How did you end up here?" Flying? Another train (for the peace of other possible passengers, she hopes not)? Did he use the Floo Network? Lily can think of no likely explanation.

A silent staring contest of wills commences – one Lily unsurprisingly loses.

Tail held high, Crookshanks struts off with admirable confidence and disappears up the stairs.

Realising that the mystery of Crookshanks's travelling proficiency will likely remain unsolved, Lily decides her time is better spent bestowing Severus with more invaluable parenting advice.

oooOOooo

One week and many sleepless nights (for Severus. Lily is relishing her powers of constant alertness) later, Severus is fraying at the edges.

Wearing a frown of abject horror, Severus stares at an apple slice covered in baby saliva.

"Say aah," Lily prompts gleefully.

Harry's chubby fist is hoovering in front of Severus's face. Resignedly, Severus opens his mouth and takes a bite of the offered apple slice. A bright, if partly toothless, smile lights up Harry's face.

Lily immediately starts applauding, grinning at him when her son glances over for approval. "Good job! You're so kind, sharing your food with dour uncle Severus! So kind!"

With a grimace that might, if one is willing to be generous, be classified as a smile, Severus nods along. "…Yes. Thank you most kindly."

Harry's face brightens further at the words of praise, and he once again offers a bite to Severus. By shoving both the slimy apple and half his hand into Severus's mouth. Spluttering, the fully grown wizard leans back to escape. Severus then puts on a show of chewing the nonexistence fruit. Humming with faked pleasure, Severus pats Harry's arm (incidentally moving said arm further away from himself). "Thank you, Harry." When her son moves to share some more of his now squashed apple, Severus quickly leans farther away. "Ah, much obliged, but I believe I'm full. How about you try some now?" Not waiting for an answer, Severus physically urges Harry on. When Harry happily begins to munch on the apple slice, Severus wipes off his mouth with noticeable relief.

Lily snickers.

 "You know, Lily. When people die, their ghosts exhibit their most deep-seated personality traits."

"…Yes."

"If I hadn't already known what yours were, I would have found out now."

Lily squints at the man. "This feels strangely like an insult."

"That's because it is. Very perceptive of you."

"Mm." She glances back at her son and notices that Harry's hand is empty. "Want another, Harry? Of course you do, yes, of course you do." She turns her head. "Severus, give him another one."

Because Harry is a generous child, he is happy to share this new apple slice with his dour caretaker.

Severus levels Lily with a look of utter loathing.

oooOOooo

This is the first moment Lily has found herself alone with Severus, both Harry and Crookshanks sleeping deeply in another room.

It shouldn't be surprising that she and Severus devolve into a whispered screaming match. For the last week, the two of them have been operating under a truce, and at certain moments she's almost been able to forget why their friendship fell apart in the first place. It helps that Severus turned to her side of the conflict – and must have provided valuable information, since the Ministry lets him move around unmonitored, even if he does not have his wand. And yet Lily is still spitting-mad at the man. Anger rears its head when she remembers what he did before. Switching sides doesn't erase past actions, and it sure as hell does not make up for all the horrific things the Death Eaters have done.

Hence – why they are quietly throwing each other's bad life choices in the other's face for the last hour.

(It does serve to clear the air, if nothing else)

Eventually Lily's temper cools, and her furious outburst turns into more pointed snappishness. "I did think it strange when Voldemort repeatedly ordered me to stand aside, you know," Lily says with scowling; the words said in response to an offhand comment by Severus and what this comment revealed. The notion that Severus asked the Dark Lord to spare her makes Lily want to knock the other's teeth out.

"You cannot believe me that dim-witted," he says curtly, trademark sneer in place. "As if you'd allow someone to kill your child without a fight. You – Lily. I'm not that stupid."

"There's evidence on the contrary," she mutters.

The man's sneer intensifies. "I figured you'd appreciate an extra minute to act. Next time I'll avoid any stalling techniques, then."

"…Next time?" Lily repeats, feeling some of her irritation draining at the explanation. "Got big plans for the future?"

Severus closes his eyes. He looks very much done with the entire conversation. "You know what I meant."

"Of course. You want to be a spy when you grow up."

"Lily."

oooOOooo

"You have to remove it, Severus."

"…"

"Can't you see that he's in pain?"

"It'll come out on its own eventually."

"Severus. Remove it."

"…must I?"

"Yes."

In the end, Severus does remove the giant booger from Harry's nostril.

Nobody enjoys that experience.

oooOOooo

"Lily," Severus begins, sounding more sombre than usual. They are situated in Severus's living room, Harry soundly asleep in a wooden crate converted to a bed. The muggle way, which seemed to pain the still wandless wizard greatly while he was doing it. "You said this would be temporary."

She did say that, didn't she.

"It's now been three weeks," Severus continues, sounding strained. He is sporting permanent eyebags and looks at risk of falling asleep any minute.

"I did imply that it could take a while," she points out. "And I've yet to hear anything from Remus. So." Lily has to admit, though, that she didn't think it'd take this long, either. Remus has proven frustratingly hard to get in touch with, and since Severus doesn't have a wand, the two of them are severely limited in ways to find a missing person. Everything they did try has turned out a failure. Owls could not locate Remus, he's not in the telephone directory, and he'd added wards for scrying. And Lily can't set out to find him by herself – she has to keep Severus from accidentally killing her son (this is done through a mix of excellent parenting advice, a slight bit of bullying, and shameless advantage-taking of Severus's guilt. It has proved to be an effective method).

Sure, Lily could ask someone else in possession of a wand for help… but that requires a level of trust she does not possess.

Severus stalks from one end of the room to the other in agitation, barely even looking at her as he says, "Lily. This situation is unsustainable."

Well. He isn't wrong. While Severus isn't a terrible caretaker (anymore), he does seem to be praying for his own demise while undertaking these caretaking duties…

Still. "What do you expect me to do about it? You know the options as well as I do. The best bet is waiting for the Ministry to release your wand."

"Which could take months."

"I am aware."

Severus plonks down on the couch defeatedly, letting his head hit the back with a soft thud and closing his eyes. "You could try asking the headmaster for help again," he suggests.  

"He's got his hands full," she returns, trying not to sound sullen.

"Ah, yes. The ‘project'. What kind of thing takes up that much time, anyway?"

"I don't know. As far as I've understood, he's staying out of the Ministry's business; allowing them to round up any stray Death Eaters." Severus winces at her words, but Lily elects to ignore that in favour of continuing her musings. "I've no idea what else he'd be up to. I mean, running Hogwarts, obviously. But that shouldn't take him away from the school, and yet he's off doing something."

If the Hogwarts portraits are to be believed, the headmaster initially seemed happy to devote his attention to running Hogwarts. Only after that raid on Malfoy manor did the older wizard begin to disappear on "mysterious business" (to quote the portraits in the Headmaster's office). The man himself hadn't been there, though, irritatingly enough. And Lily isn't willing to make the trip again, considering the mess Severus got into while she was away).

Honestly, Lily doesn't want to ask Dumbledore for help (she is still angry, damnit), but after Pettigrew, she is reluctant to reach out to her other acquaintances for help. It hasn't left her with many options.

"Well, if Dumbledore can't help, then maybe you should take it into your own hands," Severus says. "Aren't you a national hero at this point? I think you could get away with making a couple of demands. Like getting me a wand."

Ha – no.

Besides, "I've already thrown my weight around making sure some of those rumours about Harry are nipped in the bud. Which is a full-time job."

"Indeed it is – for the lawyers you hired to do it. With Potter's money." Severus pronounces the ‘Potter' with contempt, meaning that it is Lily's late husband being referenced. Severus's ability to hold a grudge even after death is as amusing as it is ridiculous and aggravating. Like Severus continuously ignoring that Harry is anything but Lily's son.

Lily takes great pleasure in reminding Severus that Harry is, in fact, a Potter. It conjures the most delightful expressions.

"First of all," she retorts, "that became my money upon marriage." (Which, granted, initially made her supremely uncomfortable. Why would someone even need that much of it?). "And I've been mostly relying on my own money. You know, that thing you get when you apply for jobs after graduating instead of joining a terrorist organisation," she adds pointedly. It's true that Lily feels bad about using money that should rightfully go to her son. Still, "Harry will thank me doing in the future." She's just lucky that ghosts can, in fact, legally hire lawyers.

"I'm sure."

"No, really, he will," Lily affirms. "They were planning to write adventure books with my son as the protagonist."

Severus appears suitably horrified by this. After a moment, though, he shakes his head. "Never mind that, we're getting off-topic. Are you certain that there's no way to contact Lupin? Or someone else, literally anyone else, that could watch Harry in the meantime?"

"If there were, we wouldn't be here," Lily says irritably. They have been over this.

"But why–"

From beneath the floorboards comes the muted sound of glass breaking.

Severus's expression turns thunderous.

He is across the room instantly, tearing the basement door open with only the barest modicum of restraint. Lily throws an eye on the crate-turned-bed, but it seems Severus's restraint was enough; Harry sleeps on uninterrupted. If Severus door-opening skills weren't enough to wake him, he'll be sleeping for another half hour at least. Harry will be fine for a minute or two on his own while Lily checks out the situation below.

Forgoing the door, Lily sinks straight through the floor.

The first thing she sees is Severus crashing face-first into a wall.

Only a couple of inches to Severus's right, Crookshanks flies though the air towards an open cabinet. The young cat nimbly lands on top of a shelf. Crookshanks proceeds to peer down at Severus, swishing his tail back and forth languidly.

Severus's eyes flash. "I am going to strangle you," he hisses at the cat.

Lily studies the room – there. One of Severus's finished potions has met its untimely end, the vial in pieces on the ground and the potion sizzling as it interacts with the wooden flooring.

Still. "How about you avoid strangling."

With a crazed look, Severus advances on the young cat. "No, I really think I will." And then he attacks.

Crookshanks leaps out of the cabinet and lands on the floor, whereupon he easily escapes through Severus's legs. He disappears under a (recently bought) table.

Seemingly realising that he won't catch Crookshanks with his bare hands, Severus reaches for an ominously shining potion on a shelf and uncorks it. He makes as if to pour it onto the shaft of his cleaning broom. Lily has no idea what this will do, but she doubts it's anything good, so she levels Severus with an unimpressed glare – daring him to go through with the action.

Looking as if it takes tremendous strength, Severus sets the little flask down. "That beast," he whispers, knuckles white where they are still wrapped around the broom shaft, "is evil."

"He's one year old."

"An evil one-year-old," Severus stresses. "There's something wrong with it."

Lily looks at him flatly.

(Her cat is an absolute darling. It's not her fault Severus somehow managed to make an enemy of the fluffball in less than a day – and Crookshanks can hold a grudge nearly as good as Severus can.)

The hand still holding the shaft clenches further. "It is a malicious creature that will murder us all in our sleep."

"Crookshanks has pushed three things down. I think you'll live."

"It is taunting me. You don't see how it looks at us."

Lily floats a couple of inches higher until she can look down at Severus from above. "You mean how he looks at you," she corrects condescendingly.

"Aha!" Severus exclaims. He points his finger at her accusingly. "So you have seen!"

Lily fails in her efforts to convince the other that Crookshanks is not, in fact, a ‘two-faced being of deceit and carnage'.

oooOOooo

There is one unexpected perk of being dead: the avenues Severus would typically use to take his revenge on her are now closed to him. Severus has a mean streak a mile wide and is inventive enough to have continuously dreamt up new ways to torment her in retribution for any perceived (… okay, validly perceived) slights when they were young.

Made a person feel special when your friend invented a whole new hex just for you.

But now she is safe. For now... Lily is pretty sure she will, at some point in the future, be apologising to the entirety of Ghost-kind when the influx of spells engineered specifically to target ghosts appear. It's only a matter of time.

Perhaps she should tone it down with the provocations.

…Yeah, right.

oooOOooo

"Did you see that!" Lily exclaims in a mix of excitement and apprehension. There is a bowl located five inches from her hand, full of grapes. Only, three seconds ago, it had been ten inches away. The bowl moved. "Severus, look! Look! I think I'm a poltergeist!"

Severus does not seem nearly as thrilled by this notion as he should be.

She squints at the man. "Should I be offended? I feel like I should be offended."

The pinched expression on Severus's face indicates that the answer is yes. Lily huffs.

Their staring match is broken by the scraping noise of ceramic being dragged across wood. She watches the bowl glide across the table, accidentally flinging two of the grapes onto the ground due to its speed. The ceramic dish and its remaining content stop with a clink next to Harry's outstretched hand.  Accidental magic at its finest.

Lily glances at Severus and- there is no need to look that relieved!

Now she is offended!

oooOOooo

Lily does not know how to comfort people.

Only through a trial of blood, sweat, and tears did she learn how to console her son, and anything else still feels beyond her. She wishes that she did know how to comfort someone. That she could produce the words to lessen the hurts of others.

Even if she could, though, Lily is not sure she would offer any of those words now.

No apologies have been spoken between her and Severus, but the lack of excuses and justification in these recent months… they mean something. It matters to Lily. But it doesn't come close to making up for the action that necessitated the usage of apologies in the first place.

It is late, and even with spring around the corner, the night is still dark. Harry has been asleep for an hour now. Usually, Severus would be sleeping too. Usually, Severus would not have run into a woman at the supermarket whose entire family he helped butcher.

Severus is sitting on his bed with forced stillness; his eyes closed and his face void of emotion.

She has no idea what to say. What is there to say? "Severus…"

"What." The word is clipped. Severus looks stiff as a board, saying nothing. A minute passes by. Then suddenly, it is as if all air leaves Severus's body, and he crumbles in on himself, hunching over. "Sometimes… sometimes I hate me, too," he whispers.

Lily is silent.

Severus's eyes blaze when they meet hers. "What? Nothing to say? You know you agree with that woman. Nothing she said was wrong, after all. I agree as well – I am those things. Worse too, probably." He laughs hollowly and then rambles on, self-deprecatingly, "I can't believe I let myself believe it. Parts of it. Those I liked, those I thought spoke to me. A delusion. Or perhaps some of it had merit; I don't even know anymore. It's all useless in the end, anyway."   

She exhales shakily in the face of the fierce self-loathing, but there is still nothing to say. Lily made her viewpoint clear years ago. He knows how little she cares for the ideologies of those people, and after everything that has happened… Lily doesn't have it in her to console Severus. She just- she can't.

Severus looks deflated as he speaks, "What's it matter, either way. Don't know why I'm rehashing it; we've had enough arguments about it. I know your stance – not like I disagree with it. ‘Doesn't matter what the intention was, not like there is motive enough to justify genocide,' right?" He shudders before continuing. "The potions I helped perfect, the things I invented… sometimes I don't know how to live with myself.

"…Lily, I killed so many people."

What can she reply with in the face of that? She has nothing to offer, and honestly, maybe she shouldn't. Who is Lily to offer absolution? Is that even something that can be had?

So, in the end, Lily says nothing.

But she stays.

oooOOooo

It is a blessing when Severus's wand arrives with the morning post, roughly four months after Lily convinced him to take Harry in.

Severus, too, appears pleased by his wand's arrival, even if the feeling is currently overshadowed by indignation. "They sent it by owl, Lily!" he rages. As soon as his wand arrived, Severus tucked it into his sleeve, and has since been stomping around the kitchen like an enraged dragon. "What kind of careless, imbecilic, paper-pushing maggot got it through their underdeveloped brains to send a wand with the morning paper?! What if it broke?! What if it was intercepted?! Oh, of all the irresponsible-"

The tirade has been going on for a while now. But at least it's entertaining someone – that someone being her son. Harry is watching the proceedings with rapture; little face scrunched up in concentration. When Severus makes an especially cutting remark, Harry giggles.

If Harry's next word is any swear, she'll sic Crookshanks on Severus.

For someone who has been desperately waiting for the means to contact Remus, Severus is not being overly efficient when the solution has literally landed in his hand. Pointing this fact out proves to be an effective method to divert Severus from his ranting.

"And you think a message carried by Patronus will reach him? I haven't ever heard of them being used that way," Severus says, voice filled with doubt.

"I don't think so, I know so. I've been using the Patronus this way many times." (She thought Severus would know that, seeing as Pettigrew was aware of the spell – and should thus have informed the opposing faction. If he did, though, it would seem the information did not spread far through the Death Eater ranks) "The question is not if the message will reach Remus, it is if he believes it is genuine. But seeing as only the Order employs the method-" apparently- "I find that unlikely."

Severus expression makes his feelings obvious as he retorts, "Yes, I am certain that being told to meet a known Death Eater–"

"And spy," Lily injects.

"–at an isolated spot will inspire confidence."

And the word limit of the Patronus Charm is likely to exacerbate that issue. "…Well, yes. But after Remus verifies the information with someone he does trust – like, say, any of the professors at Hogwarts – he will come."

Severus lets out a sigh but does not refute her reasoning. Coming from someone who famously loathes conceding a point, that is practically an agreement. Childrearing has been hard on Severus.  

"So," Lily finally says, "how about you give it a try."

Less than a minute later, Lily rolls around in the air, cackling obnoxiously. "Your Patronus is a doe, Sevvy!"

"Would you shut up," Severus hisses from between clenched teeth. His cheeks are a flaming red.

"I knew you loved me~"

"I will exercise you."

"But how could you? When you love me~"

She floats over to the translucent doe to give it a pat with her equally translucent hand. "Your master loves me, yes he does, yes he does," Lily coos at it. "Your adowable, pwecious master–" She lets out a laugh of delight when a wooden ladle sails through her head. "No throwing things around the child!" Lily admonishes, though there is humour in her voice. At Severus's thunderous expression, she decides to take refuge inside a wall. After all, if anyone is skilled enough to come up with a way to genuinely bother a ghost, it would be Severus.

"You are the worst person ever, and I regret the day I met you," he yells.  

"Love you too~"

oooOOooo

As soon as Remus sees her at the location dictated by the Patronus, his jaw positively hits the ground. Maybe he expected to see Severus, but surely seeing her instead wasn't that big of a surprise.

"You didn't hear I was still around?" Lily asks, feeling somewhat sceptical. "I'm pretty sure it's been mentioned in the paper, like, fifteen times. It's basically general knowledge at this point."

Remus is still gaping at her. Like an idiot. "Lily?"

"You have already said that. Twice. But, yes, it is indeed me." Lily shakes her head, exasperated. There are a ton of ghosts around – it's not like she's special. "Now, would you come along? We've got places to be, things to discuss." And there's still the minuscule chance that Severus will accidentally kill Harry if left alone for too long. He does not inspire confidence when it comes to handling children, even after months of non-stop practice.

Remus follows Lily when she takes off, the man looking dazed. Luckily there's only a five-minute walk to Severus's (once again, Lily isn't worried about Severus caring for Harry… but she also isn't not worried. So).

"We're here!" Lily announces happily. "I'll go ahead." She floats through the door – and then through Severus as well, since the man is standing just behind the door.

He gives a full-body shiver. "Would you stop doing that?"

Lily smirks at him.

Just then, there comes a hesitant knock on the door. Severus immediately swings it open, nearly braining Remus in the process.

There is a moment of silence.

"You are to take custody of Harry," Severus states.

Lily isn't even surprised. "That's… a bit abrupt," she says. "And also not a question. But essentially, yes. Please help take care of Harry, would you, Remus?"

"Eh… what?"

This is why Lily wanted to have the custody discussion at a table – like civilised adults – but no.

"Let's move the discussion inside, shall we," Lily says. It is not a suggestion.

They move inside.

Explaining the situation to Remus once they are all seated at the table (or floating above a chair, in Lily's case) goes smoothly. Mostly because she and Severus rehearsed what to say beforehand; since Remus's agreement arrived (via Patronus) two days ago, Severus had been in an unfairly good mood. He also spent a lot of time reviewing arguments – and making Lily do the same. (Although, when Severus spoke of ‘freedom at last', Lily did go from being entertained… if slightly annoyed, to being actively miffed. Harry is perfect. There is no reason for Severus to be that glad at the notion of getting his home to himself. But as Severus followed his statement up with saying that he would miss Harry, Lily was mollified. Only barely mollified, mind you, but mollified nonetheless.)

" –and that's how we ended up here," Lily finishes her recounting of past events. "So. You'll help, right?"

Remus's expression breaks. "Lily, I – I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, but I can't. You know I can't."

After blinking several times, Severus interjects with an, "I beg your pardon?"

"I am a werewolf."

Severus sneers at the other wizard. "You don't say."

For some reason, this statement makes Remus flinch. Lily has no idea what that is about. From how Remus seems to have trouble meeting Severus's gaze, she knows she's missing information. Something worth investigating later. Right now, Harry takes priority. Still, why would Remus being a werewolf matter here? As Severus said, it's not exactly news. Thus, Lily waves her hand dismissively at Remus. "Get a babysitter for the full moon."

"Ah," Remus says, looking uncomfortable, "…that's not really what I meant. There's the new law about Beasts–"

"Isn't it supposed to be Being?" Lily asks.

"…No. It's back to Beasts now."

For fuck's sake.

Lily grits her teeth. This is why she has been adamant about how she, while never on the side of the Death Eaters, certainly does not stand with the Ministry either. Well, with the politicians and their brainless policies, at least.

"You being a werewolf is not widely known, though," Lily points out hesitantly. She doesn't want to push, not when it makes Remus so uncomfortable… but it's Harry. "And even if it gets out… you wouldn't necessarily have to tell the Ministry about Harry's custody arrangement."

Still sneering, Severus adds, "Not like they have any system for checking on the welfare of children, either. They wouldn't know even if anything was amiss."

Which is a fair point. As far as the Ministry knows, Harry still lives at her sister's.

"I would if I could." Remus's eyes are big, pleading with her to understand. "You know I would, Lily. But I've no money, no job… or prospects for getting one."

"Then what do you want me to do?" Lily asks. She tries to keep the exasperation from her voice. It's not Remus's fault, at least not most of it. Lily understands his reasoning. Still, "Harry can't stay with Severus indefinitely. Not only because he… dislikes children and raising one might drive him out of his mind–" Severus huffs at this but does not disagree– "but also because he was sentenced to community service. Service that could be assigned at any time. And what happens then? Am I to send Harry to my sister to be stuffed back in a cupboard?"

Having just been told about Harry's treatment when in Tuney's care, Remus twitches. Lily does not know everything about her son's life at Privet Drive, but from what she inferred, it was far from optional. Harry can't go back there.

Remus looks at her helplessly. "I don't even have a place to live."

Now, that is just plain sad. "Do you know anyone you could stay with, then?"

Lily is reaching. She knows she is reaching. But what else is there to do?

"I – no. All of my friends are dead."

Remus. Why? Do you want me to cry, Lily hisses internally. Even Severus looks uncomfortable now.

Remus seems to misinterpret Lily's pinched expression for something else, since he adds, "And yes. Being a ghost means you count among the dead, Lily." He continues as if he hadn't delivered the most mournful sentence this year a few seconds ago. "So, no living with friends. Which leaves us with, what? Do you want me to steal a cottage in the woods from some muggles? Or build something myself? Bum around at my dad's?"

"…The last option doesn't sound too terrible."

"Lily," Remus says tonelessly. "I have not spoken to my father in two years."

"But you love your father!"

Remus leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. "Of course I do. But our relationship has always been – fraught. For obvious reasons. I know he tried – but. But." (At this point, Severus looks seriously troubled with the conversation. Which, granted, is understandable; listening to someone you barely know spill all their family issues can have that effect. Severus will have to suck it up). Remus sighs and opens his eyes again. "And now, with mother dead… I didn't even go to the funeral."

Lily places her hand above Remus's, letting it hover there. Sometimes she loathes not being able to offer physical comfort. It was about the only comfort she was somewhat capable of providing. "You were undercover with one of the Dark Lord's werewolf packs, which your father knows… if only because Sirius went and told him after the reception, but still."

"Can't believe he did that," Remus grumbles under his breath. He seems unable to summon up the anger he had shown when first told about Sirius's actions some three months after his mother's death (which is also sad. Why is this conversation so sad?). "There was a reason I didn't say anything."

"I think you should go to your dad's," Lily declares. Usually, she wouldn't push… too much, at least. But this is about Harry. Lily will use any means necessary to get her son a safe place to grow up. Putting pressure on a friend is the least she's ready to do. Does that make her a bad person? Lily does not know, nor does she care. "Your family owns a house in the countryside, right? With a big yard, a bit secluded but still near other wizarding settlements. That sounds like a marvellous place to raise a magical child. Much better than Cokeworth, for example."

Remus squints at her. "You won't settle until you get your way, will you?"

"Not really, no."

Their talk is interrupted by whining in the living room.

"I'll get him," Severus says tiredly, leaving the table.

Lily glances over at Remus. His face does something weird as Harry's distressed noises increase in volume, only to cut off as Severus no doubt picks the kid up.

The floorboards creak, heralding Severus's return. Turning around, Lily sees Harry's face light up when the two enter the kitchen. "Unca Moony!"

When Remus leaves later that day, it is with the promise to return in two days' time. And to arrange a meeting with his father tomorrow.

oooOOooo

When Remus returns, he has tears in his eyes (Severus immediately excuses himself and disappears).

Lily feels her throat clog up. "Remus, what happened?" If his father said anything, Lily will make him regret it– and then Remus gives her the brightest smile she's seen in ages.

Lily is so confused.

"He's an Animagus," Remus chokes out. "I don't know – Lily, my father became an Animagus. For me. And I won't have to –" his sentence cuts off as Remus straight up begins to bawl. Happy tears, granted, but still. Bawling. Fat tears and red cheeks and snot, all the while smiling.

It's a lot.

"Oh, that's – that's great, Remus!"

oooOOooo

Severus and Remus are doing a last sweep of the house in Cokeworth, ensuring that Harry's things are accounted for.

Picking up a black dog with a sombre expression and placing it in a chest, Remus declares, "I think that's it." He then closes the lid decisively.

"I suppose we better be off then." True to her words, Lily rights herself in the air and leads the way to the exit, Crookshanks on her heels.

They make their way to the door with Remus carrying Harry in a sling across his chest, simultaneously levitating the now-closed trunk behind him. It bobs along, not hitting anything (years' worth of levitating chests through the Hogwarts express throng is behind the ease of handling, no doubt). Severus brings up the rear.

"I suppose this is goodbye for now," Severus says when they reach the door. He goes to close said door, only for Remus to stick his foot in the way.

"I was under the impression you were coming along?"

Severus turns to look at Lily. Who is utilizing her hard-won skills to appear innocent. "Lily," Severus says.

"Hm?"

"Lily."

She drops the charade to give a half smile. "Obviously, you are coming along for the drop-off. You'll have to meet Lyall and get introduced to the wards. It'll make it easier for you to come by in future."

"…And why would I be doing that?"

"Because," Lily says slowly, dragging the word out, "my son has already lost most of his family. And now you want to disappear on him as well? No. I won't stand for another caretaker going up in thin air. Hence, I expect you to visit. At least once a weak initially, especially on full moons – for which you have been nominated as a babysitter, by the way. Congratulations."

Severus does not argue (even if he does frown deeply), which is good for him. Lily has yet to go through with her threat of siccing Crookshanks on the other – but she is willing.   

Next stop, the residence of one Lyall Lupin.

Chapter Text

Lily no longer has a sense of smell, but from the expressions on those surrounding her, it seems that Harry's diaper needs to be changed. With practised ease, Lyall Lupin walks over to where Harry had been playing with his blocks and picks the toddler up. "I'll take it," he says. Giving Harry a big smile, he then heads for the bathroom, where the changing table is. Before the door closes, she can hear the man begin to hum a wizarding lullaby.

As soon as they are gone, Lily turns to Remus and smirks. "Lyall is the best honorary-granddad. You have to admit that I have the best ideas." Sure, they've only been here for four months, but Harry already loves his 'Ganpa'. Lily is… mostly relieved by this. While she wishes Harry could have met any of his biological grandparents before they died, the pleasure of seeing Harry so undeniably happy is enough to make Lyall one of Lily's new favourite people. Besides, both her and James's parents were kind people – she doubts they would mind sharing the title of grandparent.

"You have the best ideas," Remus says indulgently.

"And don't you forget it."

The fireplace begins to crackle, and Lily immediately turns to take stock. Green flames take over the previously unlit space. Seconds later, Severus steps out of the fireplace. His black robes are neat, his hair washed and tied back in a low tail, and – perhaps most importantly – the dark bags under his eyes are gone. He almost looks like a functioning adult.  Not caring for a child 24-7 is apparently agreeing with him.

"Good afternoon, Snape," Remus greets with a small smile. His and Severus's interactions still have a clang of uneasiness, but they have eased significantly from what it was at their reunion.

Severus inclines his head in return. "Lupin."

It's still a work in progress, though.

Severus places a bag next to the sitting room table, whereafter he removes his cloak and drapes it over a chair.

That is when Lyall re-enters the room, Harry on his hip. When he spots Severus, Lyall gives a half wave with the arm not holding Harry. "Oh, hello, Severus. You're early. I was just about to put on some tea water."

"I can do it," Severus offers and heads to the kitchen without waiting for a reply.

"Second cabinet from the right!" Lyall calls after him.

"Top shelf!" Severus calls back, sounding amused. "I know, Lyall!"

Lily subtly turns to Remus, and they share a look. They're in the twilight zone. It never gets less weird that Severus has befriended Remus's dad – not to say that she isn't very proud of this achievement. It's excellent that Severus has befriended a normal person. Compared to the bonding activities of baby Death Eaters, having a nice conversation about gardening and history novels over tea is far preferable. Then there's also the bread eating (that they take turns baking) and the sharing of recipes…

…Yeah, no. That budding friendship hasn't gotten any less surreal over time.

(Like, Lily hadn't even known Severus baked)

True to form, Severus soon returns carrying a teapot with plates and two cups floating behind him (with no cup for Remus, who has excused himself in order to escape tea time – sorry, to care for Harry). Severus sets everything down on the table, while Lyall hands Harry over to Remus. Then Severus bends down to retrieve a plate of homemade scones from his bag on the floor and places those, too, on the table. A French butter dish, marmalade, and cheese appear in short order to join the spread.

"Oranges and elderflower?" Lyall asks. He studies the marmalade with interest.

"It goes surprisingly well with the scones," Severus explains. And then, he goes on to expound why these particular flavours 'balance each other' and how this 'enhances the experience'. Severus is an old man in the body of a 22-year-old. An old man who is now discussing the merits of orange and elderflower marmalade over the cloudberry variant.

Lily watches all of this with morbid fascination.

Merlin, it's turning into a friendly argument about marmalade.

Lily looks at Remus again, and they make the unanimous decision to ignore the elderly and instead play peekaboo with Harry. Once her baby grows bored with that (which takes a while – unsurprisingly), they move on to telling adventure stories, with Remus acting out the scenes by providing magical shadow figures and light effects on the wall. Harry especially enjoys when the protagonist makes a daring escape by broom (also unsurprisingly).

They are in the middle of a thrilling re-enacting of the famous Binglyblobb hill battle – although toned down on the violence and excruciating death front – when the tell-tale picking of a beak on glass interrupts them. Glancing at the window reveals a black and tan owl waiting impatiently on the windowsill.

"Harry, we've got mail," Remus tells the child. "Would you like to help me receive it?" There is no baby speak because he's are firm believer of talking normally with children. Technically, Lily does not disagree with this sentiment. She just finds it very difficult to enact in practise.

Harry smiles and extends his arms to be picked up.

Remus smiles back. "I take it that's a yes?" he asks rhetorically and picks Harry up. The window opens outwards, so it takes a bit of shuffling to get it up without hitting the bird. When the way is clear, the owl sweeps in and drops a letter on the dining table. Then it's out the window again – not even staying to receive a snack.

Lily flies over to the table and takes a look at the envelope. The ministry's wax seal is on plain display, as is the recipient's name.  "Aren't you going to open it, Severus?"

Severus breaks the seal and begins to read, grimacing the entire time. His face grows progressively paler the more he reads.

Because Lily isn't that much of a busybody, she doesn't peek at the letter. But it's a near thing –  becoming a ghost has done a number on her impulse control (even if Severus would swear blind that she has always been like this. All lies!).

When Severus reaches the tail end of the letter perspiration has begun to gather at his temple. Both Remus and Lyall are growing visibly concerned at this. However, they seem hesitant to outright ask about the letter's content. Lily has no such compunctions.

"Well?" she asks in a drawl, trying to hide the fact that she's growing a little worried herself. "What does it say?" But Severus is beyond words. Instead, he shucks the letter in her direction, and it lands face up on the table in front of her. Lily leans over to read it.

Then she snorts, worry washed away. This is priceless. "They want you to teach? At Hogwarts? Who are they trying to torture, you or the kids?"

Severus slowly lowers his head until his forehead meets the table with a thump. And then he stays there, silent.

"Either someone on the board has it out for you and wants to put you through your personal hell, or there's someone there who just really dislikes children." If she could poke Severus right now, she would've. Instead she says, "A truly inventive torture method. So, Sevvy? Reconsidering the merits of an extended stay in Azkaban?"

When Severus only groans in reply, Lily consoles him with, "It's potions, so at least you're qualified."

oooOOooo

There are lists of different types of potion ingredients spread out over the kitchen table at the Lupin residence. Every word is in Severus's neat handwriting, colour coded, and diligently divided into categories. The biggest category is luckily the 'Acceptable' one, but Lily is slightly concerned by the rising number of 'Inferior', 'Below Regulation Standard', and 'ABHORRENT'.

"There were this many ingredients not up to par?" Lily asks the frowning Severus, who is pacing around the room. He had just returned after a scheduled tour of the teaching quarters he stands to inherit come next term. During this tour, Severus somehow convinced Slughorn that the state of Hogwarts's potions-related inventory needed to be inspected. Suffice it to say, Severus had not been pleased by what he found.

Severus is currently stalking around like an irate dragon who hasn't only had its gold stolen but its eggs trampled as well. For a moment, it looks like he's too deep in brooding to have heard Lily's question, but finally, he nods. "It is." With a sneer, he adds, "And Slughorn calls himself a Potions Master. 'Monetary restrictions', sure. I understand that the more expensive or less used ingredients can't all be in excellent condition – the costs would be exorbitant. I can make due." Spoken like someone who spent his school year desperately trying to find the compromise between affordable ingredients and potent potions. "Still, some of these things-" he gestures at his colour-coded notes- "can be found in the woods. I mean, come on! Anjelica literally grows wild in Lyall's back yard! The fact that the stores on Hogwarts are bellow standard regulation is shameful!"

"…Which is why you are planning an expedition to gather ingredients?" Lily asks sceptically, referring to the maps with specific locations circled in colour. They are resting next to the colour-coded lists. Going to all the places indicated on those maps seems like an endeavour too big to be carried out by one person, though – at least with only two months to do it. Slightly less, even, what with it being early July.

But Severus looks determined. "Precisely."

Lily has reviewed the lists, and many items will be bothersome to retrieve. Not that Severus lets that stop him.

…It doesn't feel right to make him do it all on his own – so after only a little more ribbing Lily settles down to actually help Severus plan this endeavour. He sets out on his first gathering trip that very day.

Five days later, Severus is readying for his third excursion. This time the man is heading for a marsh allegedly home to a magical mushroom Severus desperately needs for the new semester. So, here he is; bag packed with water-resistant shoes, hair braided back from his face, and dragon hide gloves peeking out of an expandable pocket. Very adventure-y.

Still, Lily shakes her head at the other. "You want to get Jumping Noisome Fungi in this humidity? You'll be overrun by mosquitoes as soon as you set foot in the marsh." She shakes her head again. "At least wear something that isn't black, or you will get bitten. No need to make yourself more attractive to those creatures."

Since both magical and non–magical insect repellent will scare the fungi away, dressing in something that mosquitos dislike is the next best thing. In fact, the Jumping Noisome Fungi are sensitive to magic, so Severus's excursion will be conducted the muggle way: no Apparition, no locating charms, and, as mentioned, no insect repellent. He's going to be a walking mosquito buffet. For hours.   

"Dark colours do attract mosquitos," Remus agrees with her. "Don't you own any light colours?"

After a moment.

"No."

Lily nods. "He really doesn't. I've seen his wardrobe. The most adventurous thing was a dark grey robe, and I'm pretty sure it'll pass for black in most lights."

"That is so sad."

"I know, right."

Severus narrows his eyes. "How kind of you to provide commentary. If you are done?" Without waiting for a reply, he turns, robes flaring out behind him dramatically, and takes a decisive step out the door.

"No, wait!" Remus says, halting the other man. "I think I have something you could borrow."

"You don't wear any bright colours either," Severus points out. He does not seem enthused by the idea; friendship level not high enough for clothing swaps, apparently.

"Just wait a sec, okay?"

And then Remus is gone. Moments later, the stairs creak, followed by thumps of Remus running around on the floor above them.

Severus sighs. "I am not going to like this, am I?"

"Probably not, no. My condolences."

There is an ominous thud from upstairs, the sound of a large object falling, followed by a loud, "I'm okay!"

Severus closes his eyes and lets out another sigh.

Soon, the creaking of the stairs return, and Remus re-appears in the hallway. He's looking smug and wearing the stereotypical look all Marauders get when they're up to no good.

There is a moment of suspense (typical Marauder, she swears. Still can't believe she married one).

Then the cause is revealed.

An awe-inspiring outer robe that, if she is not mistaken, is primarily made of the same breathable – but tear-resistant – fabric James's father always wore when handling carnivorous plants in the Potter Estate's greenhouse. There are also practical patches of dragon hide sewn along the hems.

In other words, the perfect getup for a trip to the marshlands.

The robe is also a very calming shade of lavender pink.

Can't forget that.

Severus gets that pinched look he wears when holding back from verbally eviscerating someone. "No."

Guilelessly, Remus asks, "Why  not?"

"I am not wearing that."

Lily pouts. "But it's perfect. Not mosquito attracting, a nice fabric for avoiding clamminess–"

"Very durable, as well," Remus chimes in.

"It's pink."

"What you have against pink?" Remus asks with big eyes. He sounds genuinely confused but is most likely being a little shit (read: Marauder).

Severus's face scrunches up even further. "You clearly haven't visited the Ministry recently. If you had, you'd know."

But in the end, it only takes some perfunctory goading to convince Severus to wear the robes. Probably the lur of fabric that won't make him boil alive in the summer heat. So, clothes get changed, and content gets transferred between pockets. Pink turns out to be good for Severus's complexion (he looks less like a pasty ghost). He doesn't even look slightly ridiculous. Lily is flabbergasted; she thought she'd be presented with prime teasing material. Instead, she finds herself paying Severus a heartfelt compliment on his clothes.

She follows her compliment up with a whispered, "He should wear pink more often," in Remus's direction.

"He is pulling it off."

Going by Severus's expression, he is unwilling to change the colour-scheme of his wardrobe (on account of the still unnamed ministry… incident?). Not even sparing them a word, he once again turns on his heal. Severus is halfway out the door when Remus, grinning, yells, "Don't forget the hat!"

The hat does, of course, match.

Contrary to the robe, it does not look good on Severus. Unless one is into eery pink swamp creatures, that is. It's very… storybook villain chic. The hat does have a mosquito net going for it, though, so there is that. Practicality before appearance.

Severus takes a deep breath.

"I don't think he likes it," Lily faux whispers.

Severus looks seconds away from committing atrocities. "Does the peanut gallery have anything else to contribute?"

Remus smiles innocently. "No, I believe you're good to go."

"Stay safe."

Then, with an even more dramatic flair than usual (courtesy of the lovely robe), Severus stalks out the house.

With bated breath, Lily waits for the tell-tale pop of someone Apparating away. Nary a second after it reaches her ears, she turns to Remus. "Tell me you got a picture."

"Who do you take me for? Of course I did."

oooOOooo

Harry has always had a slight obsession with earlobes. When she was alive, her baby would fiddle with hers or James's, rubbing his nose against it. Lily is pretty sure such things are par for the course when it comes to child rearing – others have told similar stories involving babies playing with the chubby parts of their parents' stomachs, armpits, and cheeks. It's a thing.

She hadn't minded. Except it almost tickled when she'd felt her son's breath against her earlobe, and she had not been able to shake the feeling that he was going to lick it. And Lily didn't actually want spit on her ear. Harry never did lick it, though.

At least not before.

"Do not lick me," Severus says sternly, pushing Harry away from where he had been rubbing his nose against Severus's ear. The two are sitting on the couch.

Harry looks at Severus quizzically. "Lick?" he mumbles o himself. Then he looks back at Severus's ear, and a mischievous smile that is all James spreads across his face.

Harry lunges for Severus's earlobe, tongue extended.

The older wizard's eyes widen, and he uses his grip on the boy to push him away. "No."

Harry giggles at the reaction he has garnered. Of course, he goes to lick again, now with redoubled efforts.

"We do not lick other people!" Severus all but yells, making Harry laugh near-uncontrollably. The tongue comes out again, but Severus holds him back. It seems to take quite a lot of the man's strength to keep Harry at bay, with the boy relentlessly squirming and pushing to get close to Severus's ear – still shaking with laughter.  

"No! Stop it!"

Which, of course, only delights the little rascal further. When Harry goes to once again lick the earlobe, Severus nearly flings the boy away in his haste to get away from the tongue. Harry lands on the sofa and bounces up and down three times before stilling. For a moment, her boy is stunned into silence by this action – then he gives a screech of glee and all but jumps into Severus's lap.

"Harry! Stop this instance!"

More happy screeching.

Severus does not seem to grasp that telling a two-year-old not to do something makes it a thousand times funnier to pull it off. He's made it into a game. The licking game. Really, Severus has only himself to blame. 

oooOOooo

After careful scrutinization (and a bit of light stalking), Lily is coming to trust Lyall and Remus to watch over Harry. Having been a near-constant presence in their home throughout spring and the better part of summer, she's seen them handle more than their fair share of difficulties. Tantrums when it comes to putting on socks (Harry don wanna!), trying new foods, dealing with nightmares, and a thousand other little moments. This is why Lily, only somewhat reluctantly, leaves her son to their care for an entire day without her supervision. It is nerve-racking. Absolutely terrifying. But Lily refuses to permanently haunt Harry. There's overbearing parent, and then there is whatever that would be.

Hence, separation practice.

(It is terrible)

At least she has something to distract herself with. And really, if Severus has to attend the Start of Term Feast alone, he might actually die. Lily is coming along. As moral support. Like any good friend should. Not at all because she wants to make fun of him, what, no. Why would anyone think that? Haha…

Anyway.

Lily is currently hanging out inside a castle wall with other like-minded Hogwarts ghosts. If one is careful, which Lily is, it's possible to stick a teeny tiny little part of one's metaphysical eye through the wall and watch the First-Years as they wait to be allowed into the Great Hall.

They're adorable. Small nervous chickens trying to put on brave faces. Precious.

Lily is forever grateful that the Bloody Baron shared this spying trick. Sure, she was initially terrified because, well, the Bloody Baron. When that ghost approached her an hour ago with an invitation to join in on the yearly 'scare the pants of the newcomers' game, how could she not be a little scared? But he had been surprisingly cordial – and funny. Granted, a very morbid sense of humour, but Lily can appreciate that. Dying has widened her humorous horizons.  

A female ghost to Lily's right makes a covert motion with her hand (Lily does not know the woman's name but has seen the ancient-looking witch around the castle before); it's time to begin.

Lily throws herself out of the wall with a mad cackle. Around her, the other ghosts follow.

The reaction is immediate. Screams erupt as the First-Years duck to avoid the flood of ghosts passing by overhead. Six of them glance up, faces ranging from horror to delight at the magical display. One little boy even falls over and lands on his behind (expression conveying both horror and delight).

And then it's over as soon as it begins. Lily has passed the last student. It only takes a little twirl to change direction, and then she dives down and emerges in the basement. Exactly as planned. She's getting good at this ghost gig.

"That was fun!" she tells the Bloody Baron.

Lily is so going to make this a yearly thing.

oooOOooo

Amongst the Hogwarts ghosts, Lily stands out quite a bit when she comes over for a visit. Not only is she the youngest one – and by a considerable margin, at that – but she is also the only one dressed in modern clothing of non-magical decent. There are a few gowns, tunics, doublets, and waistcoats from foregone eras there, true, but the vast majority of ghosts wear wizarding fashion of old. With the odd school uniform sprinkled in, but looking at deceased students brings Lily's mood down, so she pushes that to the back of her mind.

(Don't even get her started on some of the hairstyles and cosmetics of the other ghosts. There were some fascinating styling choices back in the days)

In any case, the point is that Lily, clad in jeans, a cardigan, and a long-sleeved band tee (borrowed from James, but likely to have originally belonged to Sirius. It is soft – Lily hadn't cared about its origins when she picked it) sticks out like a sore thumb. Not that it bothers her. Flaunting something so obviously muggle and thus scandalizing the more uptight purebloods brings her joy.  

But this has made her more aware of what others wear than usual. Lily's never cared about clothes or appearances before; it sort of just… melts into the background. Now, however, Lily has found herself doing a cursory study of people's looks. Although, even if she didn't have this new fascination for appearance, Lily still would have noticed Severus... interesting choices in that department.

"Severus, why are your teeth yellow?"

Severus does not meet her eyes. He also closes his mouth, but not before Lily has gotten a good look at his… teeth. She wanted to wish him luck before his first lesson, but she might have to rethink that plan. Just – what? Not even the dim light of the dungeon can hide… all of that.

Floating nearer for a closer inspection, Lily notes more and more comment-worthy features. "And what's up with the unwashed hair? I know for a fact that you not only own a shower, you know how to use it as well." Dealing with babies isn't exactly clean work. But then it hits her. "Wait. Is this to – what – intimidate the students?" Lily realises that her theory is correct from the slight twitch of Severus's frame. "Seriously? Sevvy, that's so pathetic."

Mouth flattening into a thin band of pressed lips, Severus swivels around and stalks off. His black robes flares out behind him in the most dramatic sweep of the century.

Lily shoots forwards until she is floating alongside Severus as he walks through the hall – easily keeping pace. "You bespelled your cloak?!" The cloak is still flaring. Clothes simply do not move like that unprompted. "You look like an evil bat," she declares with a laugh. "Is this also an attempt to increase your intimidation factor?"

Severus closes his eyes (at least he had left those alone – but perhaps he felt they already have a sufficiently high 'scariness factor'). He then proceeds to do some kind of breathing exercise – which Lily feels is uncalled for – whereafter he once again opens his eyes.

An impressive sneer is directed her way. "Anything else you wish to insult?"

"Well, I could make a scathing comment about your nose, but seeing as that's how it normally looks, it'd feel a bit low."

Aaaaaand Lily did it anyway.  Why did her brain-to-mouth filter have to go and die with her?

"Lily. Go away."

"But I'm here as moral support."

"You're really not."

"Am too," Lily insists. "But I can also act as a voice of reason. It's possible to do multiple things simultaneously."

"Lily."

She smiles brightly. "That is indeed my name."

"Lily." This is followed by a display of the 'scariness factor' of Severus's eyes. It is impressive, except Lily has grown immune to those glares due to years-long exposure.  

Still, she raises her hands in mock defeat. "I jest, I jest." After a moment, "But you really should rethink the teeth. Like, really."

oooOOooo

Severus does, in the end, rethink the teeth.

oooOOooo

They're two weeks into the new school year, and Lily has agreed to stay away from Hogwarts. For the most part. Can she be blamed for visiting the Bloody Baron from time to time? He has so many valuable tips to impart, and Lily, being a brand new ghost, feels she deserves a mentor. Even if said mentor scares her to death (it isn't like she can get any deader, so who cares).  

But apart from those trips, Lily has been good. No making Severus spit blood in frustration with her 'aggravating presence'.

It's not like spending time with Remus is a hardship, and obviously Lily wants to be around her son. She is content with her undead existence, even if it doesn't currently involve separation practise.

Right now, the four living inhabitants of the Lupin residence are eating supper (or cat food, in Crookshanks's case). Lily spends her time between engaging in conversation and entertaining Harry.

The fireplace lights up green.

At the sudden interruption, all of them freeze – Lyall with his fork halfway to his mouth. Lily, meanwhile, relocates to the fireplace just as Severus stumbles out of it. The man doesn't look in her direction. Instead, he immediately heads for the sofa and falls face-first onto the cushions with a thump. Lily waits for an explanation; only Severus lies there on his stomach, looking like a dead fish.

Remus clears his throat. "Do you need… help?"

Severus does not even twitch in response. He only continues to lie there, face down on the sofa.

…So, in hindsight, perhaps Lily shouldn't have listened when told to stay away from Hogwarts. It seems Severus could have benefitted from moral support.

From one moment to the next. Harry somehow manages to get out of the highchair. Before anyone can react to what might be accidental Apparition, her little boy toddles up to Severus and pats him on the back in an attempt at gentleness. When he gets no reaction (has Severus fallen asleep?!), Harry turns to look at the rest of them; little face scrunched up in worry. "Dou unca sad?"

"Ehm," Lily begins, shamelessly stalling for time. "Well." She floats closer to Severus's prone figure, hoping for clues. Is he asleep? Did he fall unconscious? Has he somehow contracted a magical ailment that threw him into a coma? Who can tell? Certainly not Lily. "You're uncle is… tired." There. Nailed it.

Harry turns back to look at Severus, deep in thought.

Acting on some unknown logic only apparent to young children, Harry climbs onto the sofa. Digging his elbow into the meat of Severus' back, which does elicit a response (if only a twitch), Harry crawls over the other's prone form. He then nestles into the space between the backrest and Severus with a happy little wiggle.

"No sad," Harry declares with finality.

He continues to snuggle with the unresponsive Severus for a couple of seconds, until Severus finally deigns to give the boy a pat on his head. Harry promptly decides that the older wizard has received enough comfort and wiggles back out. There is another elbow-to-back incident, with the addition of a displaced foot and a spine, and then Harry somewhat gracefully tumbles onto the floor.  Looking very pleased with himself, Harry waddles back to the table.

"Up you go," Lyall says absentmindedly as he lifts Harry back into his chair, most of his attention still on Severus.  

The toddler receives head pats and compliments for being so kind. Dinner for the living continues with only a couple of glances thrown Severus way as they make an attempt at normalcy, but Lily stays by Severus's side.

"Did something happen during your classes?" Lily asks.

She receives a groan in answer.

"I don't know how to interpret that."

Severus lifts his head to send her a scathing glare. "I am unhappy with the situation. The students are unhappy with the situation. Everyone is unhappy with the situation – even the inanimate objects."

"That sounds – rough."

"You don't say., Now, I intend to wallow in misery and not leave this couch. Possibly ever. So, if you'd be much obliged?" Severus gives a twitch that is probably supposed to mean 'go away' but mostly resembles the dying throws of a fish on land.  With another thump, Severus lets his face connect with the upholstery.

"…Sure."

He does not move from that spot for the entire evening. Not even Crookshanks planting himself on Severus's back elicits a reaction, which is the real proof that something's wrong.

Lyall is kind enough to leave a glass of some unknown liquid and a plate of biscuits on the side table before he goes to put the little one to bed.

Because Lily isn't entirely heartless, she also arranges for a care package to be delivered to Severus. He looks like he needs it. She's still worried, though.

Lily makes the unsanctioned decision to visit Hogwarts the following Monday. It is time to see what's making Severus contemplate an eternity as a dead fish on a couch. Not wanting to disrupt a lesson – double lesson fifth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws – she keeps hidden inside a wall using her new ghostly skills. Those hours are more than enough time to shine a light on the situation.

As soon as the last student has departed, Lily falls out of the wall. She feels sorry for Severus, she does. But she is also unable to hold in a giggling fit.

"Yes, yes, laugh it off."

Don't mind if she does.

She wipes away an imaginary tear. "You're not the worst teacher I've ever seen," she offers, trying to console the man.

It does nothing to remove the resigned look of suffering from Severus's face. "But?"

"But you're still embarrassingly bad. You can't just write the altered recipe on the board and not tell them why you added another clockwise stir, or why they were supposed to chop their wormwood until it's minced. Instead, you just stalked around like some bird of prey about to attack. I mean, one of the Ravenclaws looked close to tears. You can't scare them into doing it correctly."

It doesn't look like Severus disagrees… not entirely, at least. But he does seem to lack the energy to do anything about it.

Lily sighs. "At least tell them which books to read if they do want to learn the theory. Or give a helpful tip during the brewing process. I know you're not entirely incompetent – you taught me, after all!"

Lily fails to convince Severus to change his ways.

She considers leaving the situation as is. But as funny as she found it in the moment, the more she replays the lesson in her head, the sadder it makes her. Severus is suffering, and the students with him. It's just going to be misery all around – for years if the Ministry gets its way.

If Severus can't be convinced to teach, or do literally anything to make the situation more bearable for those involved – well, Lily will have to take another route.

Which is why she is now standing in Headmaster Dumbledore's office, ready to plead her case. Lily is still… upset with the man. But she's never been the best at holding grudges unless her anger is continuously fed. And in this case, it hasn't been. So, Lily pushes the feelings to the back of her mind and uses the freed-up brain cells to get herself a new job. Her becoming Severus's co-professor cannot make anything worse. There is only one way to go, and that is up. Besides, if Binns is allowed to teach, they have zero grounds for refusing her. Sure, a professor at 21 is a little young, but there is precedence!

… In the form of Severus himself.

But. Add their years together and you get a perfectly respectable age!

oooOOooo

"This is Professor… Potter," Severus says. He forces out the introduction with a pinched expression, giving the impression that he's pronouncing the name of a most vile and malignant creature – not the last name she's inherited from her late husband.

Such a flare for the dramatics, she sighs internally while projecting a friendly smile at the class. "Hello. I'll be joining you as an assistant teacher – it's nice to meet all of you." (Officially, that is. Being First Years, she has already seen a number of them make idiots of themselves. She is magnanimous enough not to bring it up)

An itty bitty Hufflepuff girl stares at her with wide eyes, mouth in the shape of a big O. "Are you Lily Potter?" she asks breathlessly. Not even raising her hand, which makes Severus twitch.

"Er… yes?" Lily answers confusedly.

The eyes go even wider, and there are excited exhalations from around the room. "You're my hero," the girl breathes out. Reverently, which is both weird and awkward on so many levels.

There are assenting nods from around the room.

Lily smiles brightly – fake it until you make it! "…Thanks."

"I can't believe you're going to be our teacher," a little read head who must be one of Molly and Arthur's brood says excitedly.

Lily claps her hands and projects the sound – loudly (thank you, Baron). "Well, that's great. Now, how about that lesson." She turns pleading eyes on Severus. "Professor Snape?"

Merlin bless Severus's aversion to eager children; even with this being the perfect opportunity to exact revenge on her, he immediately summarises the day's planned material.

(Lily believes herself to be safe. She should have known better).

The bell rings to signal the end of class.

And then Severus abandons her. He sweeps out the door with his still bespelled cloak flapping melodramatically behind him (wearing a smirk!), leaving Lily to be swarmed by hero-worshipping eleven- and twelve-year-olds.

How could you do this, you traitor?! Lily screams internally. Like the hypocrite she is.

oooOOooo

"Why is Dad running around the living room?" Remus asks Lily in a whisper.

At that moment, the running man in question nearly collides with a table, only just managing to correct his course. Seconds later, Harry comes toddling after. The two-year-old is grinning brightly.

"Harry's playing the 'I will lick you game' again," Lily explains.

"Ah."

That's when Harry catches up, and Lyall lets out an exaggerated, "Ah! I have been had! Have mercy, great sorcerer!"

Harry finds this delightful.

There are another couple of minutes of running around. It's only when both older man and little boy begins to flag that Remus steps in. "And up you go," he says as he picks Harry up around the middle. Remus swings Harry around before settling the boy on his hip. The little one is panting. "How about we play with colours in the garden for a bit?" To let you cool down goes unsaid.

Harry purses his lips at the abrupt end to his favourite game, looking like he's about to disagree loudly. But the promise of imminent mess-making eventually sways him. "Harry can use all the colours?" the boy asks.

"Yep. Let's get you out of these clothes first, shall we? Then we'll get the paints."

They set up in the garden. A tarpaulin is laid on the grass, with a large sheet of paper following on top. 'All the colours' are also added, and then she and Remus let Harry go wild. Paint splatters and the paper is soon covered in indistinguishable shapes. Lily hums appreciatively, asking Harry what he is drawing while cooing inside. Before having a child, she never imagined handprints and deformed blobs would be able to make her this happy.

oooOOooo

Planning lessons is surprisingly fun. Sure, it's tedious at times, and it never feels like there's enough hours of the day for both planning and essay correcting if she still wants family time (which she does). Not to mention that she and Severus have misjudged the time they need for a class more than once, which was very stressful at the time… but overall, she doesn't think they're making that big of a mess of the whole professor thing. The students seem to be learning things. Their lesson planning sessions take up a lot of time, though, primarily due to her and Severus's tendency to accidentally veer off topic. Instead of talking about what they'll teach, the conversations end up being about new potion discoveries, debates about the optimal recipes and effects of known potions, or spell creation. These aren't new topics for the two of them – before the end of their fifth year, they talked about it all the time.

(Lily hadn't realised how much she had missed it.)

Of course, the topics they are discussing now are on a very different level than those held between adolescents yet to finish their schooling. So it doesn't feel like rehashing discussions. Since fifth year, they've developed new interests – Severus in the Dark Arts and how to defend against them, while Lily spent her last months alive buried in runes theory (and how it interacts with potions and charms creations).  It's new, and fun, and Lily is enjoying herself.

It doesn't have anything to do with teaching potions, though; hence why the planning sessions tend to run overtime.

oooOOooo

The ultimate battle of wills is underway at the Lupin residence.  

Severus is scowling at Crookshanks as if daring the cat to act. Crookshanks, who is currently sitting on the kitchen table, does not seem faced by this in any way.  "Do not," Severus hisses menacingly from where he stands in the doorway.

Still unaffected, Crookshanks stares back. Then his paw inches towards a glass filled with water, standing precariously close to the edge.

"No."  

Crookshanks tilts his head in an almost human gesture of thought. His paw comes to a stop.

A decisive swipe and the glass is no more.

Severus's yell overshadows the crash of glass breaking.

Lily is unduly amused.

She is less amused when Severus corners her the next day. Is he still hung up on the destroyed glass? It's not like it belongs to Severus – if anyone should be angry, it's Lyall. And he very much isn't – the man in question also finds it entertaining – even if he did try to put on a stern front when it happened (it wasn't very convincing). But a glass breaking isn't that big of a deal for someone raised in a society where it can be fixed with a word.

"There is something wrong with that cat," Severus insists. For the nth time.

She sighs indulgently. "What's it now, then?"

"That fiend is colluding with snakes!"

That is not what she was expecting. It takes Lily a moment to decipher the sentence. "Crookshanks has befriended some snakes?" It is not… entirely out of the realm of possibilities. Magical creatures have a penchant for making friendships spanning chasms that may seem uncrossable. Those species crossing friendships usually happen between familiars, though, not random garden snakes found outside the house. Lily cannot think of any other snakes that might roam around the Lupin residence – unless the 'snake' was a metaphor for a group of people? That doesn't seem likely.

Severus's eyes drill into hers. "You don't understand," he stresses. "The cat can talk to them."

"Like – hissing?" Lily asks.

"Yes!"

"Yes?" She's still not seeing the problem. "Cats do that normally. Are you sure you didn't come across Crookshanks in a moment of stress?" Although Lily has a hard time picturing Crookshanks being afraid of snakes. Considering. Maybe the cat was trying to scare the snakes?

"What's this about Crookshanks being stressed," Remus asks, walking in on the conversation.

Severus scowls. "He wasn't stressed. He was having a conversation."

"With the snakes," Lily repeats. Not unconvinced, because Crookshanks is a notably clever cat, but Severus is no doubt blowing it out of proportion. Like, way out of proportion.

"That's what I've been saying!"

"Oh, of course. My cat has spontaneously developed Parseltongue, " she says sarcastically. "Or did he develop the ability using the Power of Evil?"

"Maybe he'll try to become the next Dark Lord," Remus suggest with humour.

Lily nods. "Crooks would make a great cult leader."

"He could have his very own band of devoted snakes and felines."

Severus bunches up his fists, incensed. "I am serious."

"No, you're Severus," Lily says automatically (Merlin, Sirius infected her with stupidity, and it seems to be uncurable).

Severus throws his hands into the air, then stalks off in a tiff.

"And he's gone," Lily mutters. One would have thought Severus and Crookshanks would have made up by now. But of course not, because Sevvy and her cat both have to be obstinate enough to out stubborn a mule. Seriously. Will she be forced to stage an intervention? Between Severus and a cat?

Remus suddenly snaps his fingers. "Oh! I just remembered why I came inside. Come on; you've got to see this." He then proceeds to herd her outside.

Lily's heart almost stops when she sees her baby. On a broom.

Then she notices that first, Harry is only two feet off the ground; second, he's going at a snail's pace; and finally, there's a nearly invisible net hovering beneath his legs. When Lily can eventually peel her eyes off Harry, she notices Lyall standing off to the side, wand at the ready.

"Harry got into the broom shed," Remus explains. "Got ahold of my first broom. No idea how yet, but we'll have to make sure there's no repeat. But he looked so sad when I said he couldn't play with it – and, well, here we are."

Lily can't do anything but watch Harry as the two-year-old giggles madly while flying around the backyard. He's flying. And not like he did on his old 'baby broom', which was heavily assisted by magic, but on an actual broom – albeit still assisted, judging from the shimmering she can spot around Harry.

James would be so proud.

"I wish James could see this," she whispers, barely audible. But from the sombre look on Remus's face, he heard it anyway.

"He and Sirius would be running around like loons," Remus agrees sadly.

Lily begins to tear up and – no. This is a happy occasion; she will be damned if she cries.

James wouldn't want her to cry. Not Sirius either, for that matter.

A small trail still escapes.

"I guess we'll just have to do it for them," Lily says determinedly.

Harry is overjoyed when she and Remus join in on the fun.

oooOOooo

After three months of teaching, Lily thinks she can declare herself a somewhat accomplished teacher. That's her opinion. And she is sticking with it. But since the students seem to share said opinion, she thinks bragging rights should be granted… although most people probably seems like an upgrade compared to their first month of lessons. Still! Lily can be proud of having made their learning space into something that doesn't instinctively conjure up nightmares. For example, that one Gryffindor girl no longer looks like she'll piss herself during lessons, which is a stark improvement. She even got a couple of students to smile! And say they like Potions class!

(They only smiled for a second, and the confessions were whispered – but it counts!)

Not even Severus can say that she's bad at her job, because Lily is playing nice. Not once has she teased Severus during a lesson; they're presenting a united front and everything. The only jokes she cracks during official school hours are for educational purposes – which Severus puts up with in the spirit of the United Front, albeit long-sufferingly.

The students love Lily.

The students do not love Severus – but neither do they cry every time he's in the vicinity anymore, which is the important part. Visible improvement! In fact, there has been no crying during lessons for three entire weeks!

…There is some crying during office hours, but Lily is unsure if it is because their teaching methods suck or if crying over schoolwork is a naturally occurring fifth- and seventh-year phenomenon. It might be, because O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s are horrible and tear-inducing all on their own.

So, Lily reiterates; she is shaping up to be a wonderful teacher.

But. Sometimes the little cretins are idiots, and Lily takes back every bad thing she ever said about Severus exaggerating their dunderheadedness.

"Stop," Lily does not yell. She presents a highly calm demeanour, but inside, she is having a breakdown because William Weasley is seconds away from putting rattle-bull-horn powder (which is highly explosive when in contact with anything above tepid temperature) into his water-based potion. Which is boiling.

(You are supposed to be one of my does-posses-common-sense, no-need-to-worry students. I believed in you, Weasley)

Big, guileless eyes stare up at her. "Professor Potter?"

Deep. Breaths.

"Do. Not. Move, Mr Weasley."

Confused blinking.

"That is powdered rattle-bull-horn," she elaborates. Please, please, please understand without panicking and dropping the powder.

The boy's eyes widen, but now there's an element of apprehension to them as he slowly looks down at his hand – outstretched, holding an opened jar over the cauldron and having been seconds from tipping the fine powder into it. If his arm trembles even a little, the classroom will go boom.

From the dawning expression of panic on his face, Mr Weasley has caught onto this fact.

So perhaps he is not entirely bereft of common sense.

Then it looks like he is about to throw the jar away, but at the last second the after-mentioned common sense kicks in, and Mr Weasley slowly rights the jar. He then places it on the workbench with a level of care commendable for a first year.

Lily and Severus let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

(How did Mr Weasley even get his hands on it?! It was supposed to be stored on the top shelf, furthest back from the entrance of the storage room. It doesn't have ladders! The children shouldn't be able to reach that high?! Their wands are all stuffed away in their bags! So how!? How do the babies keep getting their grubby little fingers on these things?! Do they want to die?! Gah!!)

"Oh!" Kirley Duke suddenly exclaims from the bench bordering Mr Weasley's. "Powdered rattle-bull-horn! That's the one you're supposed to light on fire before adding to the cauldron, right?"

Not waiting for an answer, he reaches for the still-open jar while raising his wand (no, no, no – it's supposed in be in the bag!) with his other hand. Mr Duke is intending to – what, set fire to the powder that he's still holding?!

Lily's heart stops.

Again!

The room explodes into colour. There's a thunderous sound of an explosion.

Luckily, said explosion is contained inside a glowing orb Severus has somehow managed to conjure in time. Mr Duke is two eyebrows shorter, though.

Why did Lily ever assume teaching Potions to be anything but a nightmare?! She loves the kids. She does. But they're all imbeciles!

oooOOooo

Remus's cheeks bulge, and he nearly spits out his tea when Lily tells him about Severus's new after-school habit. Because Remus has got Harry in his lap, he keeps the liquid inside his mouth. Still, a few drops manage to get out of it. They dribble down Remus's chin while he convulsively swallows the rest. And then ends up coughing.

When he's finally gotten the dribbling and coughing under control, Remus asks, "Severus is taking tea with who, now?"

"Professors McGonagall and Pomona Sprout, as well as Poppy Pomfrey when she has the time," Lily repeats. "And your father was there yesterday, too. I think they are all… friends now. It's uncanny."

While she speaks, Remus wipes off both his shirt and the table absentmindedly, attention on her story. "Huh."

Lily grins. "I've already told you; Severus is a little old man. It isn't strange that he would spend time with people his own age."

Severus, who is also sitting at the table and had been leafing through an old folder filled with recipes, glances up to give them equally scathing glares. "Do shut up."

Lily does not, but she does lean closer to Remus. "Apparently, Minerva McGonagall is a secret baking enthusiast." She imparts this information gleefully, not lowering her volume at all.

"No!" Remus exclaims. He seems as delighted by these news as Lily was. Infected by the cheerfulness, Harry also lets out a laugh.

"It's true. It's how she gets the biscuits!"

"Oh, Merlin, the biscuits!"

"I know, right?!"

With a put-upon sigh, Severus gets up and leaves the room (he does that a lot nowadays, Lily has noticed. She's starting to suspect it's a deliberate attempt at argument de-escalation, which is actually very impressive). Severus disappears into the kitchen – probably to test out some recipe he got from his baking slash gardening club (branching out from bread, apparently). Because baking is what Severus does with his spare time nowadays when not brewing potions. Lily will continue to find this both hilarious, sweet, and spooky.

One can be supportive and make fun of someone at the same time. As previously established, Lily is extremely good at multitasking.

Still, it's impressive how often Remus baits Severus – unlike her, he isn't dead and thus lacks the protection granted by no longer having a beating heart. (And even that isn't foolproof. When she has someone read a book to her – Severus will spoil the ending. He also spent three weeks placing absolutely terrifying clowns in odd nocks where he knew she passes through walls or floors to get around. Until Lily called a truce, it felt like she was the one being haunted!). Nerves of steel, Remus has. Or maybe being a Marauder fries one's common sense – yeah, that one sounds more likely.

oooOOooo

Most of the time, working at Hogwarts is filled with routines. Never boring, what with the students finding new ways to endanger both themselves and their peers, nor is it unexciting, because magic – but Lily's days are filled with routines all the same. Day in and day out. Therefore, it does stand out as strange when the Headmaster turns up in her and Severus's office, incoherent and visibly singed.

The older man doesn't close the door behind himself, so it is still gaping open when he stumbles towards her and Severus.

"Oh good god," Lily whispers, horrified. She can't make herself move, hovering in place while watching the moving trainwreck that is her boss wobbling towards her and Severus.

But then Dumbledore stumbles on a table leg and falls headlong to the floor. The only reason the unforgiving stone doesn't brain him is Severus's quick reflexes.

And then both she and Severus rush into action. Her fellow potions professor casts a string of diagnostics charms while Lily attempts to get a straight answer from Dumbledore.

She catches words like fire and drink and had too and – perhaps most concernedly – inferius. Deciphering the disjointed mumblings isn't easy, but combined with the results of the diagnostic charms, she gets a rough picture of the ailment afflicting Dumbledore.

Severus isn't called a potions prodigy for nothing, and both he and Lily are very good at breaking down- and creating spells. Helping the Headmaster deal with a potion they, thanks to Severus, has even heard about before is undoubtedly tricky, but far from impossible.

However, Lily would very much like to know how Dumbledore ended up consuming one of His (also known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-Even-With-The-Taboo-Gone, since saying Voldemort is enough to throw most people into a panic) creations. Very curious. But Lily has to push her questions to the back of her mind, instead dividing her attention between helping Severus come up with an antidote and keeping the old man as calm as she can.

As soon as Dumbledore stabilises, Lily flies off to get Madame Pomfrey.

oooOOooo

First, Lily thinks she must have misheard the Headmaster.

"You want to borrow my cat?" she echoes his earlier words.

Dumbledore nods sagely. It looks no less impressive than it usually does, even if the old wizard is currently confined to a bed after having willingly and knowingly consumed a potion normally used for torture. "Very much so. I could use his assistance on an important mission."

Lily tries to find any sign that Dumbledore is still affected by a pain-relief potion, but he seems to have all his facilities. And yet. "My cat? Crookshanks?"

Another nod.

She is tempted to ask 'why', but knowing the Headmaster, that's unlikely to yield much. But, "It's not dangerous, this mission, is it?" Lily checks, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. She has already pulled her half-kneazle along on one dangerous expedition and is not keen to allow it to happen again. And really, her cat?!

"I assure you, Lily, I will take great care to ensure his continued well-being."

Potentially a hazardous endeavour, in other words. Lily would very much like to say no. Very much. However, it isn't up to her. "In that case, you'll have to ask Crookshanks yourself." After all, in half-kneazle years, Crookshanks can probably be considered a young teenager now. So, perhaps not the greatest judgment of long-term consequences, but still old enough to decide some things on his own. She isn't about to send Crookshanks off without the cat's input. "But you'll have to wait for that conversation – Crookshanks isn't very keen on Hogwarts."

This is why the 'conversation' between Crookshanks and Dumbledore occurs a week later. Lily does not eavesdrop; she might be a busybody, but she does know discretion. She wouldn't have become a prominent member of the Order of the Phoenix at such a young age if she was incapable of respecting orders. And this potentially hazardous mission is on a 'need to know basis' where Lily isn't included.

When the headmaster and Crookshanks exit the room they had commandeered, Lily needs no one to tell her that Crookshanks has agreed to go on the 'mission'. The cat looks too happy with himself for it to mean anything else.

"Have him back in time for dinner," Lily tells Dumbledore resignedly. "And you-" she looks seriously at Crookshanks- "be careful. Please."  

They do not come back in time for dinner. Cat and old wizard do, however, appear for supper, and since both seem largely unharmed, Lily is willing to let it go uncommented. This time.

However, when Harry notices the newly burnt edges of Crookshanks's fur, she almost changes her mind. Harry looks at the rest of them to get reassurance with his lip wobbling dangerously – yeah, Lily feels less inclined to let the matter of the 'adventure' slide. "Crooks hurt?" Harry asks with budding distress. It looks like he wants to pet the cat in comfort but knows that 'touching someone where they're hurt is bad', so he holds himself back.

"He'll be fine," Lyall says calmly. He isn't calm, but she doubts Harry notices. "We'll give Crookshanks a trim and then he'll be right as rain. Want to help?"

Harry nods enthusiastically. Lyall bends down and scoops Crookshanks up – with minimal protests from the cat – and disappears into the bathroom, Harry only half a step behind.

Dumbledore makes his excuses and disappears into the evening – promising to return in a couple of days after he has had time to 'look into some new developments'.

"That is… concerning," Remus settles on. He's staring out the darkness on the other side of the front door, even with Dumbledore long gone.

Lily hums in agreement.

Still, when Dumbledore reappears next week, she does not argue. If Crookshanks was against going, she's no doubt he'd make himself scarce. Crooks is a cat, after all. Lily isn't happy about it but won't step in unless matters seem genuinely dire. Still, she can feel the grudge she had almost left behind start to regrow.

Cat and headmaster disappear on more excursions during the following months, prompting Lily to grow ever more worried – the feeling only stemmed from Crookshanks's continued health. She is expecting an explanation soon. But since she has unofficially retired from adventuring and is now a full-time professor and mother, she decides to give it another week before she gets into the matter. The school year is almost over, freeing up ample time for stalking.

But if Crookshanks turns up seriously injured before then, there'll be hell to pay – mark her words.  

FIN