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Lily had rarely seen such commotion in her common room on a Sunday morning. Usually, the students would sleep again at eight o'clock, and she would. But Mary MacDonald woke her up and told her that she absolutely had to come down. A big smile illuminated the pale face of her friend. Like Lily, Mary was a Muggle-born, but her family didn’t live in the Midlands like hers. The MacDonald were Scots and lived in the suburbs of Edinburgh. 

“Come on! Get up! You’ll never guess what happened that night!”

Lily would have liked to stay a little longer in bed. She had spent the evening studying and had not really paid attention to the time when going to bed. Her O.W.L.s would take place in just over three months, and the Gryffindor – a very serious student – was already working hard.

“What happened?” asked Lily in a sleepy voice.

“Come down! I’m sure Potter will repeat the story for you!”

“Potter?” yelped Lily.

What had this arrogant Potter done? Since their first encounter in the Hogwarts Express, James Potter was unbearable to her. She had never met a boy as proud, glib and imbued with his person as the chaser of the Gryffindor team.

Lily yielded and joined Mary in the common room. About twenty students had gathered around someone, and Lily had no trouble guessing that it was James Potter. He sat like a pasha in a chair and monopolized all the attention of the students who had the courage to wake up to listen to him. Unkempt hair, as if he had just crossed Scotland on a broom. It was a mania with him. He looked like a lord surrounded by his crowd of courtiers. Lily didn’t know whether she should find this spectacle distressing or laughable.

“James!” cried a high voice, that of Peter Pettigrew. “Evans came down!”

The chaser stopped and looked at Lily with a mocking smile. She could see that Sirius Black – a complete fool – was also in the game, but Remus Lupin shone by his absence. Lily might have been better off imitating him, because taking an interest in Potter would again be a waste of time.

“Evans, what a pleasant surprise! I was just telling everyone how I saved your beggarly friend’s life, just last night. What’s his name? Oh yes! Snivellus, or perhaps Snivelly.”

“Severus” corrected Lily in an acid tone.

“It doesn’t matter” Potter replied in a detached tone.

Lily hated hearing these ugly nicknames. They had never left Severus since their first trip aboard the Hogwarts Express. They suggested that Severus was just a small servile, barely human thing.

“What happened?” asked Lily, in an icy voice.

Lily wore her dressing gown and had her arms crossed on her chest. Her V-shaped eyebrows showed nothing of her worry. Severus Snape was her best friend, but at Gryffindor they didn’t like the Slytherins very much. And Severus – a strange boy – was certainly the person James Potter and his friends hated the most on earth, after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name. Nobody in Hogwarts knew Severus Snape like Lily knew him. The Gryffindor didn’t like his friends, or even some of his interests. She knew that he was too interested in dark arts. This magic - and the powers it conferred - frightened and repulsed Lily. Unfortunately, it caused the opposite effect in Severus, who claimed that it was necessary to know all the aspects of magic to master it fully.  

“What happened?” repeated James Potter, smiling. “I hope that you will give me a one-to-one meeting during our next trip to Hogsmeade to thank me.”

“Not even in a dream” replied Lily. “I prefer the company of the Bloody Baron to yours, Potter.”

“I told you to make your offer later” sighed Sirius Black, tapping his friend’s shoulder.

Lily’s refusal didn’t diminish Potter’s pride. Peter Pettigrew, a chubby teenager the same age, looked at James with wet eyes. It was obvious that he still wanted to hear the story of his idol, and he wasn’t the only one. Other students had joined them and urged the chaser to tell the story of his achievement again last night.

“Well,” sliced the Gryffindor. “It turns out that last night I was not sleepy. So, I left the dormitory to walk in the park.”

James Potter couldn’t care less about the school rules. If only Lily had been able to see him sneaking out of the common room, she would have taken great pleasure in taking away a few points.

“It was a soft night. You can feel spring coming. And there were these beautiful moonbeams reflected in the lake. Honestly, Evans, if you ever want to see such a show, I’d be happy to escort you.”

Lily didn’t answer him anything, and simply glare him. She would never date this guy, this swagger!

“I was making my rounds when I was alerted by screams. They came from the Whomping Willow. So, I only listened to my courage, and I went. It was no mean feat… This tree is completely crazy!”

No one ever near the Whomping Willow. This tree had a bellicose temperament and didn’t hesitate to cut down on the ground its heavy branches when an imprudent approached it. James Potter didn’t care about the rules. He seemed to think he was born to be above the laws and rules. 

“Nevertheless” continued James Potter. “I managed to avoid each of these branches and entered the tunnel.”

The younger ones were amazed. They looked like fish out of the water. Lily must have recognized that Potter had achieved a feat, but she tried not to let anything appear on her face.

“There were screams in that dark tunnel. At first, I thought it was a hag, or a blood-sucking bugbear— In a way, I would have preferred. What was my surprise when I saw this dear Snivellus screaming like a scared little girl!”

He was laughing.

“The poor guy was completely incoherent. He was talking about a monster. I thought he was crazy at first, but I also heard noises. And it wasn’t about a hag, or a blood-sucking bugbear.”

“So there really is a monster?” asked in a frightened voice a first-year student.

“Yes, my boy!” assured James Potter, with a tone full of condescension. “I advise you not to follow the example of Snivelly. I’m sure he wanted to make himself interesting by unravelling the mysteries of Whomping Willow. That jerk could have died if I hadn’t come to his rescue.”

Severus had therefore also violated the curfew. Lily was aware that he had been obsessed with Whomping Willow for some time, and Lily had made him promise never to approach it. It was not for nothing that Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, had formally forbidden students to go around this tree. Some said it was planted in the park because it was a jewel of botany, and that it was one of Professor Sprout’s subjects of study.

“And the monster” added another first-year student. “Have you seen it, Mr. Potter?”

Lily hated hearing the youngest students call James Potter “mister”. This wasn’t the case for the Quidditch player who thought he was a real star at the castle.

“Only from afar. But it was heading straight for us. If I hadn’t been there, that brainless Slytherin would have been eaten alive. There’s no doubt about it. I think there’s probably an acromentula under the Whomping Willow. No wonder, they say these creatures swarm in the forest. I guess it was hungry, and it had nothing fresher to eat than Sinvelly. I certainly saved more than one life that night. This poor creature would have poisoned itself by tasting the flesh of this deranged.”

The students giggled and chuckled. Could we walk safely in the park? Was there a chance of a giant spider?

Lily had heard enough. She had to get information from Severus. She wanted his side of the story, and she would.

“So, Evans?” asked Potter, as she was ready to go back to her room. “Still not tempted by a one-to-one with me at Madam Puddifoot?”

Lily ignored him royally. If he repeated his request one more time, she would answer him that she would prefer to date the giant squid.

“Missed again, Prongs!” mocked Sirius Black.

*

When Lily entered the kitchen, she found Severus sitting at the table, peeling carrots. With his features frozen, completely impassable, Severus applied himself seriously. This task seemed to channel him. Lily wondered how Mr. Snape would have reacted by seeing his son perform the low chores of the housewives. That’s how the men in the area talked about the domestic chores that only women did.

At Cokeworth, people had always had a narrow mind. A worker’s son was destined to become a worker, while those who lived on the other side of the stream – in the more affluent neighbourhoods – may have had a chance to get by with education. The girls' future was rarely extraordinary. At Spinner’s End, the girls learned from an early age the household arts, sewing. They were destined, as were their mothers, for workers and precarious jobs, if they had to make ends meet.

In the neighbourhood where Lily grew up, things weren’t much different. The girls had to work well at school, but also help their mothers at home. They were not really encouraged to go to school, unlike boys. Marriage represented absolute security and conformity with social norms.

Lily, before going to Hogwarts, had a few friends she hadn’t stayed in touch with. However, she knew - thanks to her parents - what had become of some of them. Jane Cowper – a little brown girl with a bit of a binge – had finally joined her parents at the grocery store, while she dreamed of living in London to try her luck. Cokeworth, a small town, represented stability according to the Cowpers, while the capital was a dangerous world. Deborah Clarkson, a neighbour of the Evans a little older than Lily, had left Cokeworth, but had dropped her bags just a ten-minute drive from town. She had fallen in love with a mechanic who had opened his own car garage. Deborah – from what Lily knew – stayed home to take care of the domestic chores, her daughter and managed all the administrative chores of her husband’s business without receiving a penny. Her husband was saving an employee’s salary.

To her knowledge, only Petunia had escaped the greyness of Cokeworth. Soon after high school, Lily’s older sister had trained as a secretary and found a job at a London company. There she met Vernon Dursley, a small, very ambitious executive. And Petunia had given up her financial independence to marry him and lead a perfectly orderly life as a housewife.

In the wizarding community, things weren’t very different. Lily – during her studies at Hogwarts – had learned that women had gained access to the most prestigious positions in the Minister, but there were only a handful. A woman held the position of Ministry of Magic, but she was only the tenth of the female to exercise this mandate, against twenty men. It was a little better than the Muggles, because the current Prime Minister was the first woman to take on those responsibilities.

If it hadn’t been for this war, Lily would certainly have thought differently about her future. She certainly wouldn’t have married James that quickly. They were young, in love and the conflict and the feelings they had for each other had made them lose their minds a little. She probably set up her apothecary business. Her father – an accountant – had always taught her to manage her money well, to master numbers. Lily had always been the best in mathematics in her class, when she was still a little girl who knew nothing about magic. Potions were obviously not the only matter in which Lily had excelled at Hogwarts. The Gryffindor had facilities in the execution of spells, but also in transfiguration. Professors Slughorn and Flitwick thought she was making beautiful magic.

She had also offered her potion teacher a small freshwater fish that he had named Francis. Francis was not just any fish; Lily had created it from a lily petal she had transfigured. Horace Slughorn had been one of her favourite teachers at Hogwarts. He had always admired her talent for potions – the matter he dispensed – and was very kind to her, although he would have been very surprised to learn that she was a Muggle-born. This fish had been a way for her to show her gratitude.

As she watched Severus peel the carrots – which he was probably saving for soup or puree – Lily had an idea. She couldn’t decently spend her days observing the sad and sordid street from the only window of her host’s living room. No, she needed an activity to ward off her bad thoughts and grief. Harry needed a strong, courageous and caring mother, not an apathetic spectre that could burst into tears at any moment. She had done a little wonder with a simple lily petal; she could do the same with the house of Severus.

“Sev?” she said with a smile.

Her friend looked up at her and watched her with some suspicion.

“Do you need anything, Lily?”

“I had an idea—”

“Would you have – by the greatest of miracles – found an alternative so that Black wouldn’t set foot in my house when I’m not there?” he said with a sardonic smile.

“Alas, no, sorry to disappoint you. I know you don’t like Sirius, and it costs you a lot to let him come to your house while you’re gone.”

“What insight!” said Severus. “Nevertheless, I know it’s necessary for your safety and that of your son. I will grit my teeth as long as I can, but I don’t promise to bite if the situation requires it…”

Lily hoped in her heart that Sirius – who could be very immature – would follow through on his good resolutions and not push Severus to the limit. Her friend, too, could behave like a child when it came to one of the Marauders.

“Well, what did you have to tell me?” he replied.

“Considering that I might stay here for a – let’s say it – considerable time, I thought maybe I could arrange the place, give a little makeover, make the place a little warmer.”

For a few seconds Severus answered nothing. The expression of his face remained impassive. Then he put the carrot and the peeler in his hands on the cutting board.

“You want to know what I think? That’s probably the dumbest idea you ever had.”

She should have suspected it, and she understood Severus' reaction. Who was she to choose the decoration of Severus' house? She was just a guest. She may even have hurt him by making that suggestion.

“But it’s also the best!” he added. “This house is a lost cause. However, I’d rather see you pursue this project than see you wither and gossip at the living room window. It will probably be much more interesting than watching the rats come and go on the sidewalk. Paint the walls pink, if that amuses you! Carpet in the kitchen, if you like! Hang heads of decapitated house-elves on the stairs, if you like! You have carte blanche.”

Lily blinked as she heard this.

“Heads of house-elves? Really, Sev?” chuckled Lily.

“Some families apply this horrible tradition” he replied in a detached tone. “Each has its own taste in ornamentation. But they’re not mine, certainly not.”

Lily had learned that Sirius’ family – the Blacks – honoured the memory of its servants by beheading them when they died. The heads were then hung – like hunting trophies – on the walls of the house. Sirius didn’t appreciate this family custom, and even less loved the house-elf who had served him during his childhood and part of his adolescence. He despised these servile creatures and judged that they had seen their heads enough during their lifetime not to have to endure them after their passing. Lily found it especially barbaric. The Muggles loved to show off some stuffed or decapitated game. It was no better, and Lily didn’t understand how a boar or doe head was considered evidence of good taste.

The next day, Lily – who had thought long and hard about her new project before falling asleep – decided that she should start with the living room, which was the busiest room in the house. She didn’t hesitate to call upon Severus. While Harry was taking a nap, the old Gryffindor and the new teacher went up to the attic. Severus thought it was a waste of time to venture into the attic. His parents had piled up old things, furniture and objects damaged and broken for ages. He himself had stored there worn trinkets, which he could no longer bear to see, such as his father’s ashtray – a small circular container made of rusty scrap. Lily wondered why he didn’t throw it away, just like many other cases. Probably because of his mother, Mrs. Snape, who had given no sign of life for almost four years.

“With a little willpower, this shade could work” Lily commented, weighing a cover lamp in very poor condition. “A little extra light wouldn’t hurt a bit. Do you have a bedside or floor lamp?”

“This antiquity? I should have burned it!” replied Severus in an acerbic tone. “Frankly, there is really nothing here. We waste our time!”

Lily swept away the fulminations of her friend. She was convinced that she could perform wonders with certain elements of this bric-a-brac.

“Look at this blanket” she said, by unfolding it. “Okay, it’s pierced and stained. But with a few spells it will be like new. I think I can even change its colour.”

“But where did you learn all this?” asked Severus, surprised. “I didn’t know there was a “how to decorate your home” option at Hogwarts. Yet I teach there. Wednesday noon, I’ll be more careful at the table.”

Lily chuckled for a moment, then regained her seriousness.

“I just needed something to do at Godric’s Hollow…”

“Excuse me.... I should have known.”

Godric’s Hollow’s cottage had nothing to do with Severus' old brick house. Lily and James had had practically nothing to do by dropping their bags there. The future mother had simply had fun changing some elements of decoration, but the biggest project had been the nursery. She had spent weeks decorating her unborn child’s room. It had been a reassuring occupation. The cottage had been a cocoon, a nest, a bubble away from the turmoil that reigned in the wizarding community. This forced retirement had sometimes been frustrating. Lily had often felt miserable and powerless when she learned of the deaths of the Order’s members, and people completely unrelated to the conflict caused by Voldemort, while she was safe.

“Back to this blanket” said Lily, smiling.

For another hour, Lily and Severus stayed in the attic. Lily got hold of a few things that she knew she could renovate. And if magic could do nothing for some of them, Lily would use Muggle means to overcome it.

In the living room, Lily worked to fix the sofa, while Severus strove to make the shade look less shabby, but without success.

“Leave it, I’ll take care of it,” said the young redheaded woman. “Could you take Harry? If his nap lasts too long, Harry struggles to fall asleep at night.”

Severus nodded and soon returned with the toddler in his arms. Harry was babbling, as if trying to start a conversation with the man who was wearing him.

“When will he speak?” he asked Lily as he sat in the chair, Harry on his lap.

“He speaks” replied Lily. “At least he learns. That’s perfectly normal. But you know what would help him?”

Severus shrugged his shoulders.

“That you’re talking to him, that you’re just speaking to him.”

“What can we discuss with a baby?” Severus thought out loud.

“Of everything, or almost” Lily replied, inspecting every corner of the sofa. “At this age, children absorb just like sponges and, one day, they say their first word.”

Severus answered nothing and was content to look into little Harry’s eyes. It seemed like he was thinking about an appropriate topic of conversation. Lily saw none of this, as she was still examining the couch and thinking about the spells, she would use to restore its former youth.

She managed to repair every tear that strewn the old fabric. Then she wondered if a slightly warmer colour wouldn’t be appropriate.

“Um… a beautiful burgundy red, or purple… white is too messy, even a creamy white. Sev? You have nothing against red?”

She turned around and saw that Severus was quietly reading a magazine to Harry. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What do you read to him?” asked Lily.

“A copy of Potions Today from August” Severus replied after interrupting his reading.

Lily didn’t know what surprised her the most between the incongruous choice of reading and her son who seemed to be absorbed by what Severus told him.

“Thanks to you, Harry’s first word may be flobberworm, or asphodel” said Lily, ironic.

“Or mandrake” said Severus, without taking his eyes off his magazine. “I seem to have heard this name somewhere before...”

“What name?”

“Damocles Belby.”

“It sounds vaguely familiar” replied Lily, who was thinking about the most appropriate shade for Severus' sofa.

The sofa was covered with a fabric of an indescribable colour. A green, which had surely been beautiful at the beginning, but had turned to both grey and brown.

“I remember!” said Lily. “He was one of the guests at one of Slug’s club parties. A very famous potion master, if I remember correctly. Burgundy red, it will be perfect.”

“And a little erratic, if you ask me” replied Severus, as Lily cast a colouring spell on the couch. “He’s certain to eradicate the unpleasant symptoms of lycanthropy thanks to a potion.”

“Wow! It’s amazing! Such a potion would be a miracle and could help thousands of people!” exclaimed Lily.

“Meh… A waste of time and money. No lycanthrope can afford a potion that contains dragon blood, or Occamy egg, for example. What extremely expensive ingredients!”

Lily had to admit that Severus was right. The werewolves lived – for the most part – underground, for fear of being rejected. It was extremely difficult for them to get a job, and especially to keep it. Lily knew this thanks to her friend Remus Lupin. He had joined the Order, but for a time had chained little jobs – both for wizards and Muggles. For fear of arousing suspicion, Remus often resigned, as his monthly transformations forced him to remain confined to his home. You could call in sick occasionally, but not every month at every full moon without attracting suspicion. Severus had been more far-sighted than Lily, guessing first the disease Remus suffered from. 

“Red?!” exclaimed Severus with disgust, seeing the sofa. “You’re lucky that I don’t know this spell.”

Harry, who had not been asked for anything, replied with some babbling and laughter.

“What? Are you amused?” Severus replied sharply. “Return to our reading.”

Lily chuckled and then took care of the lampshade on which Severus had performed no miracle. The carpet and the blanket – which was mottled in the attic – required a little more work, but less than the sofa. Lily stopped her activities shortly before dinner time. She still had a lot of work to do in the living room, but they could already see the small changes she had made to the premises. However, she wasn’t sure she could transform the old wallpaper on the wall. She wasn’t afraid of encountering difficulties in fixing the loose corners, but she didn’t think she could change the colour of the walls with a few strokes of the wand. They should probably invest in new rolls, or in a few pots of paint.

“Is it me or are the cushions more comfortable?” remarked Severus after dinner.

“Yes, I rewound them with an inflation’s charm” replied Lily with an ounce of pride in the voice.

“Interesting” commented Severus.

“Ready to go back to Hogwarts, Wednesday?”

Severus grumbled.

“Excuse-me?” laughed Lily.

“I’m not looking forward to seeing the first-year students. Their level is deplorable. They are walking disasters. They don’t listen, don’t follow instructions and have the nerve to complain when they fail! From the first lesson, a Hufflepuff managed to melt his cauldron. This idiot repeated his feat three weeks later. I am sure that I will find larvae on my return, slugs that Horace will have too spoiled!”

Lily chuckled. She expected to spend some entertaining evenings, if Severus deigned to tell her about his days each evening. She could guess – through her friend’s criticism – that he was by no means an easy teacher, and that he was the exact opposite of Horace Slughorn, the one who had trained him and who was now his colleague.

She wanted to address a more serious subject, although she didn’t consider Severus' lessons to be a light subject. She wanted to talk to him again about that night, under the Whoming Willow, in their fifth year. Lily had thought a lot about that event. She knew the truth, and it wasn’t shining, both for the Marauders and for Severus. But she had never measured how deeply that night had marked the ancient Slytherin.

“Sev” she said, after she stopped laughing. “I thought a lot about our conversation after Dumbledore call.”

Her host stiffened. He obviously didn’t want to discuss this thorny subject with Lily.

“You told me you invented this… this spell… of black magic after that night to… to defend yourself. Right?”

He nodded. She wouldn’t judge him this time. She could understand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, didn’t believe you when you said Remus was a werewolf. That doesn’t take away from the fact that he was not, in any way, complicit in the trap that Sirius set for you. Let’s call it what it is. It wasn’t a prank; it was a trap. I don’t think Sirius wanted you to die—”

“He wanted it” cut Severus.

“I don’t think so” Lily repeated. “He just didn’t measure the consequences of what he did, what might have happened under that tree, if James hadn’t come—”

“The hero is back!” Severus spit. “He saved his skin! And I know very well what he told everyone afterwards! He didn’t waste his time! At noon the next day, everyone knew that the great James Potter had risked his life to rescue the vile Severus Snape, trapped in a tunnel!”

There was anger and bitterness in his voice.

“Severus” said Lily painfully. “James should never have told… or rather invented this story. It was stupid, vile and mean, even on his part. And I – as your best friend – should have believed you… If you knew how sorry I am…”

Her eyes filled with tears. She had almost no credit for what Severus said when he told her some of the events. Dumbledore had asked him not to reveal the truth. He had remained evasive, had repeated his allusions as to the state of Remus, while James hadn’t hesitated to pose as a hero – worthy of Godric Gryffindor – only a few hours after this horrible night.

“Lily” Severus whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry…”

He passed an arm around her shoulders and Lily sniffed against his pull.

“Excuse me” he implored. “You’re nice to me, and I grieve you, as usual.”

“No” denied Lily. “You were right…”

It was hard to admit, but so much had changed in five years, and one of them was the feelings of Lily Evans that had turned into love for James Potter. Bloody Baron and the giant squid…