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The wind over the Quidditch pitch was biting, whipping the banners of scarlet and gold against those of emerald and silver, but Severus Snape didn’t feel the cold.
He felt only the familiar, electric thrum of magic and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He stood at the center of the changing room, his silhouette sharp against the stone walls.
Gone were the ill-fitting robes of his youth. As the Slytherin Captain, his kit was tailored to perfection, hugging a frame that had filled out with muscle over the last two years of rigorous training. His black hair, once limp, was now clean and pulled back into a severe, warrior-like knot at the base of his neck, revealing the sharp, aristocratic lines of his face.
He wasn't just a student today.
He was the Half-Blood Prince, the king of the air, and he had an empire to defend.
"Listen to me," Severus said, his voice low and silky, instantly silencing the room. He looked at his team.
Mulciber sat by the lockers, a hulking mass of muscle, tapping his Beater’s bat against his palm.
The Lestrange brothers, Rodolphus and Rabastan, stood shoulder to shoulder, grinning with predatory anticipation they were his Beaters, a terrifying duo of synchronized violence.
Evan Rosier and Theodore Nott (Senior), his fellow Chasers, looked to him with absolute deference.
And in the corner, young Regulus Black, their Seeker, looked pale but determined.
"Gryffindor plays with 'heart,'" Severus sneered, the word dripping with disdain.
"They play with emotion.
They play for glory. We do not. We play with precision.
We play with cold, calculating intent. Potter will try to show off. Black will try to maim. Let them.
When they overextend, we strike." He locked eyes with Regulus. "Ignore your brother. Focus on the gold.
Do not move until you see it." "Yes, Captain," Regulus nodded. Severus turned to the door.
"Mount up."
As the Slytherin team shot into the air, the roar was deafening. The stands were a sea of color, but Severus’s obsidian eyes scanned only two specific spots. First, the VIP box.
Lucius Malfoy, pale and regal, sat like a monarch among the school governors. He raised a silver cane in a subtle salute. Lucius had taken Severus under his wing three years ago, refining his edges, turning the poor spinner’s end boy into a force of political and magical nature.
Second, and far more important, was the girl in the front row of the stands.
Lily Evans. She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf, but tied around her wrist was a band of silk Slytherin green. She caught his eye and beamed, blowing him a kiss. It fueled him.
It reminded him of that day by the lake in fifth year. As the adrenaline of the match began to fade into the dull throb of his broken ribs, Severus’s mind drifted back to the catalyst of it all.
The moment the boy died, and the man was born. It was by the Black Lake. The sun was high; the air filled with the droning of bees and the laughter of students. Then, the shout. "Levicorpus!" The world had upended.
Severus had felt the humiliating jerk of his ankle, the rush of blood to his head.
The Marauders were laughing. Sirius barked, Peter squealed, and James Potter ruffled his hair, looking toward the girls by the water's edge to ensure he had an audience. In another life, Severus might have flailed. He might have cursed. He might have let the shame curdle into a slur that would destroy his soul. But not in this one. Hanging upside down, Severus closed his eyes for a heartbeat. He centered his magic, finding the core of his dignity. He didn't reach for his wand to hex James.
He reached for his composure. With a sharp, non-verbal snap of will Liberacorpus Severus severed the jinx. He didn't crash to the ground.
He twisted in the air, cat-like, and landed on his feet in a crouch, rising slowly to his full height. He smoothed his robes. He didn't draw his wand.
He simply stood there, hands at his sides, staring at James Potter with a look of profound, pitiable boredom.
The laughter died instantly. James blinked, his wand still raised, looking suddenly foolish against an opponent who refused to play the victim. "Is that it, Potter?" Severus asked, his voice calm, carrying across the silent lawn.
"Is this the peak of your wit? Dangling people upside down because you lack the intellect to engage them in conversation?" "Draw your wand, Snivellus!" Sirius shouted, stepping forward.
Severus didn't look at Sirius. He kept his black eyes fixed on James. "No. I don't think I will. I have no interest in dueling children." James flushed red.
"You think you're better than us?" "I know I am," Severus said softly.
He took a step forward, invading James's personal space. James faltered, stepping back. "And you know it too. That’s why you do this.
You attack me when I’m reading.
You attack me when my back is turned." Severus turned his gaze toward the tree where Lily Evans had just stood up, her face pale with shock.
"You do it," Severus said, his voice rising, clear and defiant, "because you are terrified. You are jealous, James.
You can't stand that after five years of your strutting and preening, she is still my best friend.
You can't stand that she sees past your gold and your broomstick and sees a bully." "Shut up!" James yelled, raising his wand again. "I love her," Severus said. The silence that fell over the grounds was absolute. "I love her," Severus repeated, looking James dead in the eye.
"And I respect her. That is why you will never have her. Because you only want to win her." Severus turned his back on James Potter the ultimate insult and walked toward Lily. "Lily," Can we talk alone? he said, his voice dropping the hard edge, becoming vulnerable.
"I’m done with their games. Let’s go." Lily looked at the Marauders, then at Severus. She saw the bravery it took to stand unarmed. She saw the maturity. She rushed forward, grabbing his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. "Yeah," she said, glaring at James over her shoulder.
"Let’s go, Severus." The adrenaline that had sustained Severus during the confrontation by the Black Lake had long since evaporated, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion and a trembling in his hands that he was trying desperately to hide.
The sun was setting, casting long, bloody streaks of orange across the grounds. They hadn't gone back to the castle immediately.
Instead, they had walked in silence to the edge of the Forbidden Forest neutral ground.
Not Gryffindor territory, not Slytherin. Just theirs. Severus leaned against the rough bark of an ancient oak, staring out at the water.
Lily sat on a large, mossy root a few feet away, her arms wrapped around her knees. She had been quiet for a long time, watching him with an intensity that made him want to shrink away, yet simultaneously pulled him closer.
" You didn't curse him," she said finally. It wasn't a question, but a statement of disbelief. Severus looked down at his hands.
"No." "You had your wand," Lily pressed, standing up and moving closer. "I saw you reach for it. You had a hex on the tip of your tongue. Sectumsempra? That nasty cutting spell you’ve been working on?" Severus flinched. She knew him too well.
"Yes." "Why didn't you?" Her voice was soft now, lacking the judgment he usually feared.
Severus looked up, locking eyes with her. "Because if I had cast it, I would have been exactly what he says I am.
A dark wizard. A greased-haired thug." He took a shaky breath.
"I was hanging there, Lily, and I looked at him... and he looked so happy.
He was performing. And I realized that if I fought him his way with anger, with hatred I was just another prop in his play." He pushed off the tree, pacing a few steps. "I almost said it, you know," he confessed, his voice dropping to a whisper. The shame was palpable.
"When I was upside down... I was so angry, so humiliated. The word was right there. The slur."
Lily went still. "I know. I saw it on your face." "But then I saw you," Severus said, turning back to her.
"You were shouting at him. You were defending me, even when I was being pathetic.
And the anger just... broke. It wasn't worth losing you to hurt him." Lily closed the distance between them.
She reached out, her fingers brushing the sleeve of his oversized, second-hand robes.
"You told the whole school you loved me," she said, a small, tentative smile touching her lips. "That was... brave. Braver than anything Potter has ever done on a broomstick."
"It was the truth," Severus said simply. "I’m tired of hiding it, and I’m tired of them thinking they can use you to get to me. You aren't my weakness, Lily. You're the only thing that makes me human."
Lily looked at him, really looked at him, seeing the young man beneath the bitterness. She saw the choice he had made. He had chosen dignity over revenge.
He had chosen her over the approval of his death-eater friends who would surely mock him tonight in the dormitory. "Mulciber isn't going to like this," she warned quietly.
"Avery neither." "I don't care about Mulciber," Severus sneered, the new confidence from the afternoon returning. "Let them play with their dark marks and their pureblood mania.
I realized today that I am stronger than them. I don't need their protection anymore."
He took a step closer to her, his heart hammering against his ribs louder than it had during the attack.
"I want to be better, Lily. For myself. And... if you’ll have me... for you." Lily’s eyes filled with tears. She reached up, placing a hand on his cheek. His skin was cool, but he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. "I think," she whispered, "that I would like that very much."
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, near the corner of his mouth.
It was innocent, but it sent a shockwave through him that grounded him to the earth.
"I have to go," she said, pulling back reluctantly. "McGonagall is doing headcounts early tonight because of the excitement." "Wait," Severus said, catching her hand before she could turn away.
He held her gaze, his black eyes burning with a new, fierce determination. He wasn't the victim anymore.
He was someone with a future. "Meet me later," he said, his voice low and urgent. "When?" "Midnight. The Astronomy Tower," Severus said. "I have... there is something I want to give you. A promise.
I don't want to just say it to Potter.
I want to say it to you, properly."
Lily squeezed his hand, her smile radiant in the twilight. "Midnight," she agreed. "Don't be late, Prince." "I never am," he replied.
He watched her walk back up the slope toward the castle lights, the wind catching her red hair. For the first time in his life, Severus Snape didn't walk back to the dungeons feeling alone.
He walked back feeling like a King.
The wind at the top of the Astronomy Tower was biting, whistling through the crenellations of the stone parapet, but Severus didn't feel the cold.
He felt a strange, vibrating heat beneath his skin, a mixture of terror and exhilaration that had nothing to do with temperature.
He checked his watch for the third time. 11:59 PM.
Below him, the grounds were a patchwork of shadows. Somewhere down there was the lake where his life had pivoted on a single decision. Somewhere in the dungeons, Avery and Mulciber were likely plotting his humiliation or his induction, unaware that he had mentally packed his bags and left their ideology hours ago.
The heavy oak door behind him creaked.
Severus turned, his wand instinctively dropping into his hand before he recognized the silhouette.
Lily slipped through the gap, closing the door softly behind her. She was wrapped in a thick wool cloak over her nightdress, her red hair a wild halo in the moonlight. She looked around the empty tower, her eyes landing on him.
"You really came," she whispered, her breath puffing out in a white cloud.
"I told you," Severus said, his voice sounding rougher than he intended.
He cleared his throat. "I’m never late." Lily walked toward him, the sound of her slippers faint against the stone. She stopped an arm's length away, searching his face.
The moonlight was unforgiving, highlighting the sharp angles of his nose and the hollowness of his cheeks, but for the first time, Severus didn't try to turn his face to the shadows.
"Are you alright?" she asked. "I heard Mulciber shouting in the common room entrance before dinner." "He's angry I broke rank," Severus said dismissively.
"He called me a blood-traitor.
It’s... a refreshing change from the usual insults." Lily let out a short, breathless laugh. "I suppose it is."She shivered as a gust of wind tore over the parapet.
Without thinking, Severus took a step forward, shielding her from the draft with his body.
The proximity was dizzying. He could smell her that distinct scent of vanilla and old parchment that he associated with the library, with safety.
"You said you had something to give me," Lily said, looking up at him. Her green eyes reflected the starlight.
"Yes.
" Severus reached into his robes. His hand trembled slightly, not from fear of her, but from the magnitude of what he was about to do.
He withdrew a small, leather-bound book. It was battered, the corners peeling his Advanced Potion-Making text. The repository of his genius, and his darkness. He held it out to her. Lily looked at it, confused.
"Your potions book? Sev, you need this for N.E.W.T.s." "Open it," he commanded gently. "Page 42." She hesitated, then took the book. She flipped through the pages, the parchment crinkling in the silence. When she reached the page, she stopped.
It was covered in his cramped, spidery handwriting. "This is..." She squinted in the dim light. "Sectumsempra.
For enemies." "It cuts," Severus said, his voice devoid of emotion.
"It slashes deeply. It can bleed a man dry in minutes. I invented it to use on Potter." Lily looked up, horror dawning on her face. "Severus..."
"Keep looking," he said. She looked back down. Fresh ink, still black and stark, was slashed violently across the spell.
Not just a single line, but crossed out again and again until the incantation was illegible. Beside it, in careful, steady script, he had written a new note: Obsolete. Not who I am.
"I went through the whole book," Severus said quietly. "Every hex, every curse designed to cause pain... I crossed them out. I can't unlearn them, Lily. They are in my head.
But I am choosing not to use them. I am choosing not to be the Prince of the Dark Arts."
He reached out and gently took the book from her unresisting hands, setting it on the stone wall. Then, he drew his wand.
"I wanted to give you a promise," he continued. "Words are easy. Potter has plenty of words.
I wanted to show you." He raised his wand, not in a dueling stance, but like a conductor’s baton. He closed his eyes, thinking of the moment by the lake not the humiliation, but the moment she had touched his cheek. The moment he realized he was human.
" Expecto Patronum. " It wasn't a shout, but a whisper. A wisp of silver vapor erupted from his wand. It didn't take a full form he was too young, too conflicted still for a corporeal guardian but the mist didn't dissipate. It swirled around them, bright and warm, chasing away the biting cold of the tower. The silver light danced in Lily’s eyes, illuminating her amazed expression. "You're casting a Patronus?" she gasped.
"That’s... that’s incredibly advanced magic, Sev." "It's not a full one yet," he admitted, watching the light play over her hair. "But I couldn't do it at all yesterday. You need a happy memory.
A powerful one." He looked directly at her. "I didn't have one strong enough until today." Lily stared at him, the silver mist swirling between them. The realization hit her with the force of a physical blow. She was the memory. Her acceptance of him was the magic.
"Severus," she breathed. "I promise you," he said, his voice steady now, anchored by the light he had summoned. "I will not join them. I will not take the Mark. I will not be a servant to a monster.
I am yours, Lily. If you'll have me as a friend, or... or whatever else. I am yours first." Lily didn't speak. She stepped through the silver mist, closing the gap between them. She reached up, her hands tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down. This wasn't a peck on the cheek. She kissed him with a fierce, Gryffindor courage.
It was unpolished and desperate, tasting of the cold night air and the warmth of the moment. Severus froze for a heartbeat, his mind going blank, before his arms came around her, pulling her tightly against him as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling off the earth. The silver mist flared brighter around them, pulse-like, before fading into the night. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless. Severus rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. He felt dizzy, terrified, and infinitely invincible.
"That was a good promise," Lily whispered against his lips. "I intend to keep it," Severus replied. "You'd better," she teased softly, though her voice wavered. "Or I'll hex you myself." Severus opened his eyes. The darkness of the Astronomy Tower didn't look so menacing anymore. It just looked like the sky, full of stars, with plenty of room for a future he hadn't thought he’d live to see. "Meet me tomorrow?" he asked. "Library?" "Library," she agreed. She pulled back, her hand lingering in his for a moment before she stepped toward the door. She looked back one last time, smiling a smile that reached her eyes. "Goodnight, Severus." "Goodnight, Lily." He watched her go. Only when the door clicked shut did he lean back against the parapet, looking out over the sleeping school. He picked up his potions book, tracing the spine. He felt lighter. The path ahead would be difficult Avery and Mulciber would make his life hell, and the war was coming but for the first time, Severus Snape wasn't afraid of the dark. He had made his own light.
Present Time
"Scared, Snivellus?" The taunt broke his reverie. James Potter hovered nearby on his broom, gripping the Quaffle. His hazel eyes were hard, filled with the bitterness of a boy who had lost the prize he wanted most.
Beside him hovered Sirius Black (Beater) and Frank Longbottom (Chaser). Severus turned on his broom, his movement fluid and lazy. "The only thing I fear, Potter," Severus drawled, his voice amplified by the wind, "is dying of boredom waiting for you to make a move." Madam Hooch blew her whistle. The Quaffle was up. The game exploded into motion. "And Potter takes the Quaffle passes to Maclagen intercepted by Snape! Look at that turn!" The commentator shouted. Severus didn't just fly; he dissected the air. He banked hard right, diving vertically.
Sirius Black sent a Bludger screaming toward his head. Severus didn't flinch. He simply rolled underneath it, inverted, and tossed the Quaffle backward to Rosier, who caught it and scored through the left hoop past a flailing Kingsley Shacklebolt. 10-0 to Slytherin. "Formation Delta!" Severus barked. The Slytherin Chasers wove a complex pattern. Gryffindor was chaotic.
James was flying aggressively, trying to shoulder-check Severus at every turn.
"She's watching, you know," James hissed as they raced neck-and-neck for the Quaffle.
"She's watching you play dirty." "She's watching me win," Severus retorted. He feinted a dive. James bit on it, dropping low. Severus pulled up, caught the pass from Nott, and hammered the Quaffle through the center hoop. 20-0. The game became brutal. Rodolphus and Rabastan were ruthlessly targeting Remus Lupin, who was playing Beater for Gryffindor.
Lupin was skilled but lacked the killer instinct of the Lestranges. A well-aimed Bludger from Rodolphus smashed into the tail of Peter Pettigrew’s broom. Pettigrew, the Gryffindor Seeker, wobbled, his face a mask of terror.
"Eyes up, Regulus!" Severus shouted, seeing the shimmer of gold near the Ravenclaw stands. But Sirius Black had seen it too.
He abandoned his position and swung his bat at Regulus, ignoring the Bludger entirely, aiming to physically knock his brother off course. "Avery! Block!" Severus commanded. Avery, the Keeper, abandoned the posts a risky move and slammed into Sirius mid-air, a clash of wood and broom twigs. It was a foul, but it bought them time. "Penalty to Gryffindor!" Hooch screamed. James took the penalty. He scored. 20-10. The match dragged on for hours. Rain began to fall, slicking the broom handles.
The score was 140-110 to Slytherin. They were leading, but if Pettigrew caught the Snitch, it was over. Severus was exhausted, his muscles burning, wind-whipped and soaked. He saw James Potter signaling to Maclagen and Longbottom.
The 'Pincer' maneuver. They were going to try to sandwich Severus and force a fumble. Severus smiled. Predictable. As Potter and Maclagan roared toward him from opposite sides, Severus waited until the last fraction of a second.
He released the handle of his broom, standing up on the stirrups, and pulled hard on the front, sending his broom into a vertical stall. Potter and Maclagen collided with a sickening crunch. Severus dropped back onto his broom, caught the loose Quaffle, and streaked toward the goal alone. Shacklebolt looked terrified. Severus threw a curveball the 'Snape Spin' that zigzagged in the air. Shacklebolt dove left; the ball went right. 290-110. Suddenly, a gasp went through the crowd.
"THE SNITCH!" Regulus Black was diving.
Peter Pettigrew was trailing behind him, his smaller broom shaking in the wind. The Snitch was hovering inches above the grass in the center of the pitch. James Potter, recovering from the collision, screamed, "BLOCK HIM!" Sirius Black turned, aiming a Bludger directly at his brother's head. It was a shot meant to cause serious injury.
Severus saw it happen in slow motion. He was halfway across the pitch. He couldn't reach Regulus in time. But he had his wand in his boot. Strictly illegal. But so was aiming for the head. Severus withdrew his wand, keeping it hidden against his wrist. He didn't hex the Bludger. He didn't hex Sirius. He cast a non-verbal Depulso on the air behind his own broom. The burst of magical propulsion shot Severus forward like a cannonball. He slammed into the Bludger’s path, taking the iron ball hard in the ribs. CRACK. Pain exploded in his side, breathtaking and white-hot. But the Bludger deflected harmlessly away from Regulus. Regulus’s fingers closed around the gold.
"REGULUS BLACK HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS! SLYTHERIN WINS THE CUP!" The green and silver stands erupted. It was pandemonium. Lucius Malfoy was standing, actually clapping his hands above his head, a rare display of undiluted joy. Severus drifted downward, clutching his side, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He landed on the soft grass. His team swarmed him. Rodolphus was pounding his back; Regulus was shaking, holding the Snitch aloft. But Severus pushed through them. He needed to find her. The Gryffindor team had landed. James Potter stood there, rain dripping from his nose, looking defeated. He looked at Severus, then at Severus’s broken rib cage. "You took a Bludger for a Black," James muttered, confusion warring with hatred. "I took a hit for my teammate," Severus gritted out, straightening up despite the pain. "Something you wouldn't understand, Potter." Then, the crowd parted. Lily came running onto the pitch. She bypassed the Gryffindors completely. She didn't look at James. She ran straight to the man in the green robes. "Sev!" she cried, seeing him clutching his side. "You're hurt!" "I'm fine," he breathed, the pain vanishing as he looked at her. The adrenaline of victory was a potent painkiller. "We won, Lily. I told you." She stopped inches from him, her red hair plastered to her face by the rain, her eyes shining. The entire school was watching. The Slytherin elites, the defeated Marauders, the teachers. "You were amazing," she whispered. Severus Snape, the Half-Blood Prince, Slytherin Captain, and victor, did something he never would have dared in another life. He reached out, pulled Lily Evans close by her Gryffindor scarf, and kissed her. It was a searing, possessive, triumphant kiss. The Slytherins roared. Lucius looked smug. And somewhere in the background, James Potter threw his broom onto the mud and walked away. When they broke apart, Severus rested his forehead against hers. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's go get that Cup." She smiled, intertwining her fingers with his. "Lead the way, Captain." Severus slumped onto the leather bench, finally letting the mask of the invulnerable Captain slip. He hissed through his teeth, clutching his side. "Sit still," Lily’s voice was stern, but her hands were gentle. She was kneeling before him instantly, her wand drawn. She murmured a diagnostic spell, glowing amber light washing over his chest. She was still wearing her Gryffindor robes, but the green ribbon on her wrist seemed to shine brighter than the gold and red. "Three ribs cracked, Sev. Almost a puncture," she scolded, though her eyes were wet. "That was... that was incredibly stupid." "It was calculated," Severus grunted as she began to knit the bones back together. The sensation was like ice water poured over hot coals. "Regulus is the Seeker. I am a Chaser. He is essential for the catch; I am expendable once we have the lead." "You are not expendable to me," Lily said fiercely, stopping the spell to look up at him. Her green eyes blazed. "Do you hear me? I don't care about the Cup. I saw that Bludger hit you and I thought..." "I'm fine, Lily," he softened, reaching out to tuck a strand of dark red hair behind her ear. "I had to do it. The Lestranges, Malfoy... they respect strength. They respect sacrifice for the 'cause.' Taking a hit for a pureblood Black cemented my leadership over them for good. They won't question me again." Lily sighed, sitting back on her heels. "You're always playing a game of chess, aren't you? Even at 100 feet in the air." "In my house, if you stop playing, you lose," Severus reminded her. "And I intend to win. For us." He looked around the office the polished broomsticks, the silver trophies, the pristine Slytherin banners. "It's funny," he mused, the pain in his ribs subsiding to a dull ache. "Potter asked me why I did it. Why I saved a Black." "What did you tell him?" "I told him he wouldn't understand. And he wouldn't. Potter thinks bravery is charging in without a plan. He thinks loyalty is only for your friends." Severus leaned forward, his face inches from hers. "But today... seeing you run onto the pitch? In front of everyone?" Lily smiled, a small, mischievous thing. "Lucius looked like he swallowed a lemon when I kissed you." "Lucius knows where the power lies," Severus smirked. "He knows that the Captain of the Slytherin team dates the smartest witch in the year. He sees an alliance. He sees power." Severus’s expression grew serious. "But that’s not why I kissed you." "Why did you kiss me, Severus?" she whispered. "Because I wanted to remind myself that I'm not just their Captain," he said, his voice dropping to that velvety register that always made her shiver. "And I’m not just the Half-Blood Prince. I’m the man who walked away from a fight to be with you." Lily moved from the floor to the bench beside him, resting her head on his uninjured shoulder. She traced the silver snake embroidery on his Quidditch robes. "James looked devastated," she admitted quietly. "When you stood your ground back in fifth year... that broke him. But today? Seeing you fly like that? Seeing you lead? I think he finally realized that he can't beat you just by being 'James Potter' anymore." "He never could," Severus said, resting his chin on her head. "He just had louder friends." He took her hand, looking at the green ribbon on her wrist. "The war is coming, Lily," he said, the mood darkening slightly. "You know who Lucius associates with. You know what Mulciber and Avery talk about in the dark." "I know," she squeezed his hand. "They follow me on the pitch," Severus said, his jaw tightening. "I can control them here. I can curb their worst instincts, channel their aggression into the game. But once we leave school..." "We'll face it," Lily cut him off firmly. she sat up and cupped his face. "We face it together. You aren't that lonely boy at Spinner's End anymore, Sev. You're the best wizard I know. You have respect, you have power, and you have me." Severus looked at her this Gryffindor girl who had walked into the snake pit for him without hesitation. He felt a surge of emotion so strong it almost eclipsed the magic of the match. "Marry me," he blurted out. Lily froze. The sounds of the party outside seemed to vanish entirely. "What?" "Not now," Severus said quickly, a rare flush rising on his pale cheeks. "But... after. When we leave. I don't want to hide. I don't want to just be 'together.' I want everyone to know. Potter, the Dark Lord, Dumbledore... I want them to know that I am yours and your mine." Lily stared at him, her eyes wide. Then, slowly, a radiant smile broke across her face. She leaned in, mindful of his ribs, and kissed him soft, sweet, and full of promise. "Win the House Cup first, Captain," she whispered against his lips. "Then ask me again properly." Severus smirked, the pain in his side forgotten. "I already won the Cup, Evans. Now I'm just securing the real prize."