21rst of December 1981
“Hello Lily.”
Severus sat on his chair next to her bed, just as he did every single time he visited his best friend. He stayed silent for a little while, relishing in the quiet of the cozy room, filled with subdued but warm lighting despite the heavy snow swirling outside and the wind occasionally howling behind the windows.
“I finished a bash of nutrient potion today. Several actually,” he eventually went on. “I improved the consistency and nutrient per drop ratio, Poppy says it’s been doing wonders to ensure your weight doesn’t drop. We can’t really allow that, can we?”
As usual, no answer met his words. He wasn’t surprised, although he couldn’t help but consistently feel the sharp sting of disappointment wrapped in resigned sadness every single time it didn’t come. He looked down, eyes settling on Lily’s now clearly showing stomach. Blankets were covering most of the lithe frame, and protruded in her midsection more distinctly as time went by. He didn’t dare touch her, beyond taking her hand in his. For all it was worth, Severus still acutely felt responsible for what had happened to the Potters and anything more than seldom squeezing her hand felt like intruding or a violation of some sorts. It had surprised no one further than he to realize that he hadn’t taken the news of Lily’s pregnancy in any bad way at all. Nothing like when he had heard about her first. He had drink himself to sleep that night, and ten hours of sleep later, still had been utterly and completely unable to do more than whisper-grunt through a splitting headache for the next ten hours after that.
Not his best moment, and it had not instill any vote of confidence in himself for the second time around. And yet, he had felt nothing, expect for formidable relief that Lily wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead, and if that was thanks to carrying a child, then so be it. That baby wasn’t even born and had already done more for her than he had. Severus winced and rolled his eyes at the thought. He’d just have to protect that little one too. Like he had vowed to do for Harry.
Harry who was now, strangely enough the least annoying person in Severus acquaintances. Who would have thought. It wasn’t like he had particularly brilliant conversations with the toddler, and the boy would alternate between babbling nonsensical stories about dogs and brooms or listen to Severus talking about potions and brewing theories for hours, staring at him like he would a big jar of candy holding the secret of life itself.
Now that he thought about it, perhaps Lily had in fact told similar tails of famous brewers to her son. Their love of potions was something they had shared before he had to blurt out offensive stupidities. In any case Severus felt a little sense of pride that the little boy would find his stories – and by extension him – fascinating enough to listen and had found himself unable to speak when the toddler had exclaimed that “Sevvy is ze best magician ever” with his chubby fists in the air.
He didn’t feel crushed by the weight of what he had set himself to do when he spent time with the little boy. The potion he was so desperately trying to compose for Lily wasn’t anywhere closer from being done and even he had to admit that it was taking its toll on him. The crushing weight of defeat and powerlessness settled itself over him a little further each time he ran into a dead end. Even with his occlumency shields, he often found himself a prisoner of anxious, desperate, raging thoughts that perhaps he had set himself for failure, nurturing a hope that will never be rewarded and that he was fated to lose Lily yet another time. It was becoming harder and harder to push those thoughts away, and it seemed only the little boy could alleviate the burden he was plagued with.
The knowing looks he received from literally the entirety of the teaching staff was infuriating, the bewildered stares of the children were hilarious, but most of all his own feelings regarding the boy were entirely new and positively terrifying. Lily, and perhaps his mother, were the only people he had ever loved. He had nearly always been shut out, bullied, laughed out and any declination of similar treatment, by everyone around him, and such things like opening up had not been part of his realm of understanding before he had met Lily. And then again, he had not been a particularly quick study in the matter. Now he found himself nothing but the epitome of vulnerable whenever he was met with the laughing or crying green eyes that were not merely a carbon copy of Lily’s anymore, but entirely ‘Harry’. The little boy who could make him smile at the most simple accomplishment, drop everything he was doing at the drop of a hat or give him a heart attack for bumping into things or falling.
On a closer look, Severus had found easily enough that Harry did not share that big of a resemblance to James Potter. For having viewed pictures of Lily around the same age, Severus could very well recognized that the color or shape of Harry’s eyes were not the only things he had inherited from his mother. The shape of the face, nose and cheekbone were identical, and Severus dared think it would outlast the stage of infancy. Not that it mattered anymore. Severus would be hard-pressed to compare the little one he was – dear Merlin, help him – caring for, with his childhood nemesis.
“Poppy says your baby is developing perfectly according to plan. It’s the right size and its heart seems already quite strong, not that I know how she can tell these things. Harry is well too you know. Growing as fast as a weed, and laughing more every day. I keep watching the dogfather in case he does anything stupid, but so far he’s been decent. Or as decent as the mutt can be,” Severus told her. He looked at her, pondering his words for a second. It seemed as if her unmoving face still held some sort of answers to everything he could think of saying. But oh how he longed to hear her voice…
“Alright, he’s actually more than decent. Harry rarely stops grinning when he’s spending time with him. I think it’s the dog that does it. Perhaps Black would be more agreeable if he stayed in his dog form permanently. That’s a thought, perhaps I should find a spell that makes the transfiguration permanent.”
And still, Lily didn’t move.
Severus sighed deeply, daring his hand forward to grasp hers. It was warm, and he could feel her pulse beating steadily. He frowned. She was there right in front of him, and yet wasn’t. Her absence had never felt so keenly raw than recently.
He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, talking to her. Only that when he left, it was dark and he didn’t feel any better.