Author’s Note: This is quite different from most of the Severus/Lily stuff I write. It's darker and deals with a Severus Snape at a time and age when things in his life were complicated - motivations and emotions were complicated. This was written at the request of a dear friend. He is happy with it, and that is all that really matters to me where this story is concerned.

Ouroboros

They didn’t see him; he had made sure of that. The moment they had walked in, he had sunk down even further into the overstuffed seat in the booth he was seated at. Snatching up the newspaper beside him, he had held it up over his face too, just to be sure. Why he didn’t think to use a concealing charm, he didn’t know, but it had all happened so fast, and he had not expected it. Not expected it at all.

He had been coming to this pub for months. It was close to Spinner’s End and just seedy enough to guarantee that he wouldn’t see Lily there, while not quite seedy enough to draw the type of useless, ruined human beings that were likely to remind him of Tobias. No one of magical blood would ever frequent such a Muggle dung heap and he neither knew nor was known by any of the regular clientele. It was a place where he was completely safe. Or at least he had been—until tonight.

He felt the seat beneath him shift a little as the small party sat down at the booth just on the other side of the thin oak barrier from his, and he slid down a little further. Suddenly he caught himself. What exactly was he hiding for? This was his pub. It was in his neighborhood and he had been coming here for months. Why should he hide? He dropped the newspaper, folded it carefully and sat up straight, taking a hearty swallow of the brew in front of him before setting the glass down again to stare over at the small pane of glass running along the top of the oak wall dividing his booth from theirs. He could see the smallest snatch of dark red hair pressed up against it.

“Are you sure this place can be trusted? I mean, I’m not going to be spending tomorrow at St. Mungo’s, am I, Lils?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, James. There are worse places.”

“Well, there are always worse places, eh, mate?” A snort followed, which he assumed had come from Sirius Black.

“James, I’m starved. Go get me something,” said Lily.

“What d’you want?”

“I don’t care. Something warm. It’s freezing out there.”

“Sausage rolls?”

“No, not that… chips.”

Lily and her chips; some things didn’t change.

The seat beneath him shifted and now it was only she and Black in the booth on the other side. There was silence for several minutes. It was Lily who finally broke it. “How is your mother doing? I… I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her.”

“In the throes of grief I hear. No doubt they’ll have some sort of bloody monument erected.” His voice was tight.

“Don’t, Sirius. You know you were as upset as she was, and why shouldn’t you be? He was still blood. He was your brother, for god’s sake!” This was said in a fierce whisper.

“Yes, he was my brother. My brother. It’s none of your affair, so shut your trap!” The reply was whispered back just as fiercely. Nice friends she chose to keep. He was astounded that he didn’t have the urge to leap over the booth and shut Black up good and proper for talking to her like that; he felt nothing.

“Fine!”

More silence. After a few more minutes Potter returned from the bar, and he heard the clink of glasses on the table. “Food’ll be up in a minute.”

“Chips, right?”

“What? No, I thought you wanted sausage rolls.”

“I told you, no sausage rolls! You know I hate them, James. I swear, sometimes you don’t—”

Laughter from Black and Potter.

“Of course I got you chips, Lils. You don’t think I’m that dense, do you?”

She said nothing, but he saw her head turn a little as she no doubt gave him the cold shoulder.

“Oh, come on now. I’m just teasing.”

“Sod off, James.” There was the slightest hint of a smile in her voice, but not enough that he was sure Potter would have caught it.

“Lily…”

“What?”

“Am I forgiven?” There was real doubt in his voice. Interesting.

There was silence, but he saw her head lean forward away from the glass, and he had the most uncomfortable feeling she had just kissed him. He felt his stomach turn a little at the thought.

“I suppose.” Soft and low; murmured against his lips, no doubt. There was an unmistakable smile in her voice now.

“Can we break this up before the two of you make me sick?” For once in his life he was grateful to Black.

“Ah, you’re just jealous, mate. Admit it!”

“Of what?”

“Of what?!” Such disbelief. So very Potter, as if to say, “Do you see this prize sitting beside me? Finest to be found, and it’s nothing but the finest for James Potter, always!”

“Whether you bloody well deserve it or not,” he mumbled darkly under his breath, but no one at the next table seemed to hear.

“Oh, you mean jealous of being tied down, of having to spend the rest of my life with one girl and one girl only. Oh yeah, yeah, mate. I’m real jealous.”

The rest of his life…?

“No, I wouldn’t imagine that the pleasures of fidelity would be something that you could really appreciate, Sirius.” There was a subtle and none-too-playful sarcasm there, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was referring to the Lupin issue. It had been a sore spot with her, from what he could tell from afar. She and Lupin were close. And as for the rumors about the validity of Black and Lupin’s on again, off again relationship… well, Regulus had confirmed those back in fifth year.

“Not ready to settle down yet, are you, mate? Well, I’ve found the one for me, and there’s no convincing me otherwise. And lookm here’s the hardware to prove it! So are you going to come, or not?”

He had the most irresistible urge to shoot up, walk around to their booth and grab her hand out of her lap to confirm it. She wouldn’t. Not that. If there had ever been anything he had admired in Lily, it had been her good sense. She had never been one of those silly girls giggling down the halls, chasing after this boy and that, doe-eyed with imagined desire (desire that nine times out of ten, when drilled down to its essentials, was either motivated by the boy in question’s good looks or his fantastic wealth and pure blood). She had seen people for what they were.

It couldn’t be true.

“You know I’ll come.”

“And when is it?”

“I know when it is, James.”

“So enlighten us.”

“Next Saturday. One o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Where?”

“The Ministry.”

“And then…” Lily’s voice this time.

“Five o’clock. St. Luke’s—for your people.”

“And you’ll stand up for us at both?” Potter again.

“Yeah… yeah, of course.”

“Alice is standing up for Lily.”

“Not your sister?” It was Black’s way of getting back at her for the Lupin, jab, of that he was fairly certain.

“No.” She didn’t rise to the occasion; not very like her. She sounded tired.

He was tired too, suddenly very, very tired, and he was done with the conversation.

Taking a last swig from the glass in front of him, he grabbed his coat from off the seat and slid out of the booth. There was a door in the back, by the loo. He’d leave that way. He had no desire to be seen—by any of them.

The night air outside cut through his thin wool coat like a knife. He breathed in deeply, needing desperately to clear his head. Stretching his long limbs to get the blood flowing again after sitting for so long, he glanced up at the clear black sky with the occasional star fighting to be seen through the light pollution of the city, then reached into his pocket, pulled out a fag and brought it to his lips.

There was a pile of discarded fizzy drink crates piled next to the trash bin. Pulling a couple up against the wall in the shadow of the building, he sat down and lit up. It was too early to go home yet. There was the possibility that Tobias might still be awake, and he had no desire to talk to him.

A slight breeze blew down the alley, kicking up the thin dusting of snow that had settled earlier in the evening into swirling clouds of ice crystals, and then died again. Somewhere in the darkness a dog howled.

He finished the fag and lit another. His fingers were numb now, but he didn’t care. Leaning back against the cold brick wall behind him, he let his eyes slide shut. So she was marrying him. Lily Evans was marrying James Potter. That would make her—what? Lily Potter? Hideous-sounding name. Perhaps she would choose to keep her maiden name; he had read somewhere that the practice was becoming popular with women in America. Probably not, though. It appeared she had lost any vestige of common sense she might have still had the moment she had said yes to the git’s proposal.

The back door to the pub creaked open, but he kept his eyes closed. If he kept still enough the barkeep would dispose of the trash and return to the building without ever even noticing he was there. There was silence for a moment or two, and then—

“Fuck.” It was whispered, but he would have recognized the voice anywhere. She was fumbling around in her pockets, a fag in her hand.

“Need a light?”

Her head shot up, and he saw her hand fly to her pocket and her wand. Standing up, he walked away from the wall and into the moonlight, so she could see his face. She had found her wand now and had it pointed right at him. He saw the moment she recognized him. She lifted the wand a little higher.

“Put it away, Lily.”

“Severus? What… what are you doing here?”

“This is my pub in my neighborhood. What are you doing here?”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Now what do you want?”

“Right now? To offer you a light.”

“Goddamn it, Severus. You know what I mean! What are you here for—who are you here for?” She sounded angry, but he heard fear in her voice too.

“Put the wand away, Lily.”

She shook her head, her eyes trained on his every movement. “Not until you tell me why you’re here.”

“I SAID PUT IT AWAY!” he bellowed.

She blinked once and then slowly lowered it. He couldn’t help but glance down at her other hand, but it was hidden in the folds of her coat and he couldn’t see if it held a ring. He couldn’t be sure, but he though he saw her tuck it a little more tightly to her side.

She was standing very still, her eyes seeming to take in all of him at once. He didn’t want her looking at him like that.

“I hear congratulations are in order.”

She said nothing.

“James Potter, Lily? I always pegged you for better taste than that.”

She shook her head and turned away, walking a few steps toward the end of the alley before turning and coming back. She stopped exactly where she had been standing before and opened her mouth as though to say something, but then closed it again with out a word.

“Well of course, there’s the blood status of the family. Very pure. You do realize you’ll be related to Sirius if you go through with it—oh yes, and Narcissa, and Bella too. But then that probably doesn’t bother you, being related to Death Eaters. I hear the family’s leaving him a fortune.”

Her face flushed scarlet, and before he had time to think, she had stridden forward and slapped him soundly across the face. He did what came naturally and grabbed her wrist hard. She struggled a little, trying to pull away, but he held on tight. “What’s wrong, Lily? Truth hurts. I thought you knew that.”

She tried to pull her hand from his iron grip again, but he held firm. “Let me go,” she growled.

“I will. When you promise to behave.”

“Shut it, Sev.”

He smiled. “Do I get to see it, then?”

She scowled. “What?”

“The hardware.”

Something flickered across her eyes for the briefest moment. She looked almost ashamed. “I… I don’t think that…”

In a flash he reached out and snatched up her other hand. She didn’t struggle this time, and he pulled her hand out into the moonlight with ease. The diamond was huge and the setting rather antique. Probably a family heirloom.

“Hmm… I wonder what the ancestors would think if they knew the sort of bride that was about to be ushered into the family fold. And all this time I thought that it was my friends, my political views you had a problem with.” He looked up from the ring to meet her eyes. “But that wasn’t it at all, was it? Hell, it wasn’t even the money, though I’m sure that was motivating…”

Her arm twitched as though she were attempting to free herself again, but he just tightened his grip on her wrists. “No, all the time it was all about blood status. I suppose you wanted to make sure that any brat you might have would at least be a half-blood. Clean up the blood a little, hmm…? How very Slytherin of you, Lily. How very, very Slytherin… Well, I hope you don’t find Potter too disappointing. You know what they say about pure-bloods; all that inbreeding… Even the Black girls know that it’s half-blood, not a pure-blood you want when you need a decent fuck.”

She sprang to life again beneath his grip at that, and this time she was struggling in earnest. He laughed a little. “Calm down.” But she didn’t, because it was Lily, and when you got her angry enough, Lily Evans did not simply calm down.

There was something strangely satisfying and oddly arousing in knowing that he had been the one to get her so riled up. She was a hundred times more alive now than she had been a few minutes ago, sitting beside Potter in that pub. Her eyes flashed hatred and her face was flushed with rage as she struggled in his arms. She didn’t have a chance of physically overpowering him, she had pocketed her wand when he had insisted, and he knew she was abysmal at wandless magic. She was helpless.

He adjusted his grip on her, sliding his hands up to the middle of her forearms and tightening his grip in one swift movement. Then, suddenly and without forethought, he pulled her roughly toward him and kissed her. She let out a muffled cry of protest against his lips, and squirmed once more. After a moment or two, however, to his surprise she began to relax, to let him explore the taste of her, to feel the landscape of her lips and then, finally, to enter her mouth, to claim it in entirety.

He kept his guard up. She was smart, and if she really did fear him, she might only pretend to acquiesce, and then strike just when she felt she had lulled him into a stupor of desire. Of course she would assume that he wanted her that badly, and that is where she would be wrong. This wasn’t about desire. It wasn’t about need. It was about control.

He continued to kiss her, and then, after a few more moments, very slowly she began to kiss him in return. It was the opposite of his own rough, assertive kiss: slow, tender, almost needful. What game was she playing at?

Her arms had relaxed beneath his grip now, but he didn’t dare let her go. “Severus…” It was a whisper, almost a moan against his lips. An unexpected fire shot through him, and he was reminded of the sound of her murmuring against Potter’s lips only moments before. He shoved her away.

At that moment the door to the pub crashed open and Potter and Black stumbled out into the snowy alley. “Lily! Lily, are you out—” There was a brief moment when he first caught sight of her in which relief washed over his face, but then his brow furrowed. “Lily, what’s wro—”

Black saw him first and had his wand up in a moment; Potter followed. “Snape! What in the name of—WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!”

“Calm down, Potter. I didn’t do anything to her, at least nothing she didn’t want done.” He turned back to her for a minute, the smirk still on his face, but then froze, the smile fading. She was still standing exactly where he had shoved her, and he suddenly realized that her face was wet with tears. Her breath came in quick hiccupped clouds in the icy air, and her eyes… Christ, her eyes…

Potter strode into view and grabbed her forearm. She winced a little, but didn’t move. “Lily. Let’s go. You go inside. Sirius and I will finish this.” But still she wouldn’t move. She just kept standing there, staring at him, as though perhaps understanding something for the first time. For the life of him he didn’t know what.

“Come on, Lily. This alley’s a mess. What do you say we clean out the trash and go.”

He ignored Black. His eyes were still on her.

She shook her head slowly, and then lifted a hand to wipe away her tears. “No. Let him be the one to leave. You were just going, weren’t you Snape?”

“Was I?”

“Well, you got what you came for, so…”

Potter looked completely lost, his eyes snapping back and forth from her to him and back again.

“Like I said, my neighborhood, my pub. I didn’t come here for anything. But you, well…”

“Let’s leave me out of this, shall we. You really should go now.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“That’s it!” Potter raised his wand again, pointing it directly at his heart. “Sectumsempra!” His eyes burned bright with a passionate desire for revenge for the briefest of moments, but then grew dark with shock and then rage when he realized that his hex had been silently blocked.

“Using my own spells against me, Potter? Not very original. What exactly did you think would happen?”

With a growl Potter threw down his wand and lunged for him in earnest. So that was how he wanted it? No magic, face-to-face, Muggle style? He had been defending himself against that sort of attack since he was twelve. It would be over quickly, but it might be fun as long as Black stayed out of it.

“James, no!” Lily sprang to life then, and he heard the fear in her voice. “James!” She reached out and grabbed onto his arm. “Don’t. There’s no point.”

True enough, but the git didn’t listen to her good sense, as was to be expected. Tearing his arm violently from her grip, Potter flew at him again. He dodged the first punch easily. Potter was fighting angry; he, on the other hand, was calmer than he had ever been in his life.

Potter threw another, and he dodged it again. He smirked. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Potter.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Black move out of the shadows toward them.

“Stay out of this, Sirius! For once in your life, stay out of it!” Lily snapped.

Well, that would make things easier. Two against one would put him at a disadvantage he would prefer to avoid. “Come on, Potter. Hit me!” The boy brought up his left hand unexpectedly then, and this time the punch met its intended target. He felt the knuckles slam hard into his cheekbone. He shook his head, and the stars cleared quickly. He laughed. “Better. But harder this time, Potter. It’ll take more than that.”

He could see Lily out of the corner of his eye. Surprisingly, she looked angry rather than worried. He caught the swift arch of Potter’s next move just in time and ducked out of the way, returning his full attention to the activity at hand. “I’m getting bored now, Potter. Are you going to make this worth my while, or should we just end this?” Every taunt seemed to spur his old enemy to new and more profound depths of rage. Let him feel what it was like to be shamed in front of her. It would do that over-inflated head of his some good.

With a cry of rage Potter suddenly lunged into him full force, knocking them both to the ground in a heap. His fists were flying now, and he hit him square in the face, once, twice. Before the third punch could make contact he delivered a good firm jab to the kidneys. That would end it. Or at least it would, if Potter knew what was good for him.

Potter let out a grunt of pain and momentarily went limp, allowing him to push the weight off of him and get to his feet. He wiped the blood from his nose and mouth with the back of his hand as he stared down at the boy struggling to rise at his feet. “Stay down, Potter. Don’t be a fool. You know I’ll end it properly if need be.”

Still he struggled to rise, and then he moved quickly, in a foolish bid to rise and strike again. Potter was in a position of disadvantage. He kicked him once, hard in the stomach, and he went down again with a cry.

“Leave him alone!” Lily was at his side now. Then, moving past him, she knelt down on the cold pavement in an attempt to help Potter to his feet. He pushed her hand away.

“Leave it, Lily! I don’t need your help!” he snapped.

“Don’t be a fool, James. Do as he says.”

“I’d listen to her, if I were you, Potter.”

She leapt to her feet, and then strode over, until she was only mere inches from his face. He was tempted to kiss her again. “There, you got what you wanted. Are you happy?! Are you satisfied?!”

Her eyes were flashing fire again and she looked like the Lily who had first come into the alley, the one who had slapped him good and sound; the Lily filled with hate, and hurt, and rage. Then he looked past her to the boy crumpled on the pavement at their feet. He let the look in his eyes match hers. “Not even close.”

“No, because you’ll never be satisfied, will you, Snape? It will never be enough for you!”

Why did she keep calling him that?

She was talking again. “I don’t want to see you again. I want you to walk away from this, and I don’t want to ever set eyes on you again.”

“Yes you do.”

Her eyes darkened and she stood a little straighter. Her voice was dead calm when she spoke. “No. I don’t.”

“Liar.” It was only loud enough for her to hear.

“Just leave, Severus,” she whispered back. “Please. He doesn’t know when to stop.”

Behind her, he could see Potter going for his wand. He met her eyes once, and then pushed her aside and drew his own, just as Potter raised his. The boy’s limbs suddenly snapped together, rigid as a board, and he began to topple over. Lily rushed over and half caught him, before he slammed face first into the pavement.

“Oi!” He could see Black rushing out from the shadows, raising his wand, no longer content to stay out of it now that the inflicting of shame rather than pain was the game.

“I said stay out of it!” Lily shouted, but Black had no intention of listening.

He caught Lily’s eye for just a moment as she looked up from James’ prostrate form and he smiled wryly. “See you around.”

He Apparated into the night.