If...

Chapter 21: Second night

Sleeping with Severus was a truly strange thing, and yet so normal. Lily hadn't really thought about the consequences when she suggested that Severus share her bed. She hadn't had any ulterior motives. Severus was her oldest friend, his bed was as miserable as a prisoner's in Azkaban, and they had slept together when they were children. But they were no longer thirteen... and many things had changed since that impromptu night under a tent.

Lily was a married woman - or had been two weeks earlier. Now she was a widow, hiding in the house of the man who slept next to her, Severus. And Severus was no longer the scruffy little Sev from Cokeworth with whom she had spent her days in the small grove. The man who slept beside her had fallen on the wrong path. He had served a wizard with vile ideas and intentions before changing sides. Severus hadn't changed allegiance because of the atrocities committed by his master and his associates, but because of Lily. The young widow had learned on the night of her husband's death that Severus had become a spy for Dumbledore and that he had been madly in love with her for years.

This most peculiar situation was only temporary, as was Lily's presence under Severus' roof. Having her in his bed, by his side, didn't bother him, but it certainly wasn't very appropriate. Tomorrow she would delve into Mrs Snape's old books to improve the young man's bed and mattress. At least Severus would have a decent place to sleep.

"Lily? Aren't you asleep?" Severus asked in a drowsy voice.

It was sweet. It reminded Lily of the times when Severus and she used to go to the small wood. Sometimes Severus would fall asleep, and Lily would watch him sleep. He had seemed so innocent then.

"No," Lily replied. "I was thinking about things that didn't matter."

She moved a little closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Lily could feel the young man tensing slightly at the contact, as if he didn't quite know how to react. She was sure his eyes were still closed, but his breathing betrayed his discomfort. After all, she knew he wasn't used to gestures of affection and she certainly didn't want to make him feel any more uncomfortable. Still, she couldn't help but enjoy this moment of silence, where the outside world seemed to be suspended.

In this bed, snuggled up against Severus, she felt safe. It was a feeling Lily hadn't experienced - at least not so intensely - in weeks. She had mistakenly believed that the Fidelius Charm would protect her and her family. However, she had her doubts when Peter had been chosen by James to be their Secret-Keeper. Peter had been a clumsy and foolish boy at Hogwarts, lacking in subtlety. But he hadn't hesitated to take on the responsibility of protecting his best friend and his family. But they had chosen Sirius... But the almost brotherly friendship between James and Sirius was well known, even among the Death Eaters. Sirius was a Black, and the Blacks were strong supporters of Voldemort. Sirius' younger brother had become a Death Eater but had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Nobody knew what had happened to him. Sirius also had two cousins who were close to the Dark Lord. The eldest was a Death Eater and had married one. The second had not taken the Mark, but her husband carefully hid it under his sleeve.

Sirius had rejected his family's principles at a very young age. Perhaps, at first, it had been a way of rebelling. Some boys like to provoke, to challenge tradition, to mock it. But it was something more. Sirius, who had always been brought up to believe that pure-blood wizards were superior, had quickly rejected his parents' teaching. He had probably met a few Blacks who had lost their minds. Inbreeding in very old wizarding families often produced such results. Perhaps he had also been affected by the systematic exclusion of Squibs from his family. Among the Blacks, stupidity and madness were tolerated, as long as a little magic ran through the veins of the deeply dim-witted. Squibs, on the other hand, who were perfectly sane, were nothing more than defects to be eliminated as soon as possible.