Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I won't get money for writing this.

Summary: Only one man knows what it was that in the end made Lily Evans change her mind about James Potter, and eventually fall in love with him. Only one man knows why didn't they choose Sirius Black as their Secret Keeper. Only one man died thrice on All Hallows' Eve in 1981. But were he to speak, no one would ever believe him.

Warnings: slash, three-sided relationship, violence

Chapter 1: Whomping Willow

x

1976, 7th of October

x

"Snape!"

Severus stared ahead, petrified. In the darkness of the underground corridor, the pair of eyes shone a sickly yellow, staring at him with lust. A tiny speck of light appeared out of nowhere, just for a second, just long enough to reflect off two rows of red-stained fangs and to make the yellow eyes stray from him.

"Get out! Get out! Run!"

He heard the words, but didn't understand. His brain had shut itself down. He stood, motionless, and gaped, unable to even tremble. Was this what death felt like?

Out of the obscurity a large shape came barrelling at him, and he knew that there were two of the monsters and he was dead, dead, dead. Something plunked and with a waft of ozone came a touch that felt eerily like a human hand.

"You idiot! Run!"

Severus was slapped with a force that would have made his father proud, but it worked. His instincts kicked in and he turned on his heel and half-dragged, half-dragging sprinted out the way he had entered. The person by his side lunged forwards, virtually flew through the opening, flattened themselves on the grass and reached out a hand. Severus, intent on surviving, grasped it.

There was a howl behind him and the hand that gripped his wrist yanked and…

Something sturdy punched him into stomach. He flew three or four yards and fell on the grass, grateful that nothing felt like it was broken. He heard the other one scramble to stand up, scream with pain, and land on the ground next to him.

For a second they stared at each other. The boy was pale and sweating; his skin glistened in the moonlight. His eyes were wide and his chest rose and sank rapidly, with a loud wheeze punctuating every exhale. A thin trickle of blood oozed out from the corner of his mouth.

Severus realised that he must have looked a lot alike.

Another howl sounded dangerously close and he whipped around, aimed his wand on the end of the secret passage, but his voice failed him, and his hand was shaking too much to perform the correct wand-movement. There was nothing he could do. They were dead, dead, dead…

"'oo," exclaimed the boy next to him loudly – though incomprehensibly. Another waft of ozone came from him, and it blew away the fear and left behind a grim determination and the will to live, live, live…

The wild magic he had given up on using as soon as he received his wand responded and the entrance to the passage disappeared.

"W-what-" Severus stammered, staring at the other boy.

Potter spat out a mouthful of blood.

x

"James Charles Potter! What are you-"

Evans was stunned into silence as soon as Severus walked into the sphere of torchlight. He hated himself for helping the idiot get back into the castle, but Potter was injured, and because Severus had no idea exactly how badly, he couldn't afford to leave him lying outside. Well, he could, but he didn't fancy having to listen to his conscience in the case Potter would have died. So he lowered himself to supporting a Gryffindor.

"Snape…" the girl finally said, overcoming her surprise. She surveyed them both and shook her head in exasperation. "Idiots. The entire lot of you. Twenty points from both houses and Ma'am Pomfrey will undoubtedly inform the Heads. Follow me."

Severus did. On one hand, he despised having to obey a Mudblood, on the other – since she was a Prefect – whatever happened from now on wouldn't be his responsibility. And then… he knew better than to anger Lily Evans – one near-death experience was enough for tonight. He only hoped that McGonagall would wait until the next day to 'talk' to them. He wished Hades on Black.

Evans lead them into the hospital wing, wordlessly pointed at a bed and left to wake up the medi-witch. Severus still had no idea what was wrong with Potter, only that the Gryffindor was spitting an awful lot of blood, and couldn't talk. He felt a pang of sympathy for the pain, but supressed it as soon as he remembered who this person was.

The torches flared up and lit Potter's unusually pale face. He looked like a vampire after dinner.

"What did you do this time?" Pomfrey inquired exasperately as she entered the room, with the Gryffindor Prefect mere steps behind her. Obviously, she had been informed who the perpetrators were, and was none too happy to have to see to them again.

"Potter's spitting blood, Ma'am…" he offered. It might have been a useless information, but it at least averted the matron's attention from him.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked, a bit more softly. Potter attempted to lift his right hand but failed, so he lifted his left and pointed at his mouth. Pomfrey instructed him to open it and conjured a bowl he could spit in. Severus had to look away. His eyes landed on the Gryffindor's right elbow and the bump just above it that shouldn't have been there. He felt… slightly sick, slightly guilty…

Evans followed the line of his stare, clamped a hand over her mouth and ran from the room.

x

8th of October

x

"Snape."

Severus looked over his shoulder at a scowling Evans. She pointed at a door of an unused classroom he had just passed. Normally, he wouldn't be caught dead listening to a Mudblood, but she was pointing the tip of her wand (mostly hidden in her sleeve – where did Mudbloods learn tricks like that?) at him, and that swayed his decision.

As soon as he was inside the room, she locked the door, cast an Imperturbable, and a Silencing Spell. Her scowl eased, ever so slightly.

"Look, I have no idea what you two idiots got yourself into last night, but Potter pleaded with me to get a message to you. I suppose you could do me the courtesy after all my effort, and at least read it."

Severus grimaced, but took the scrap of parchment from her hand. It was not hexed. It did not insult him either. He decided to unfold it, keeping it in a relatively safe distance of arm's length from himself. It turned out to be a perfectly ordinary (albeit scabby) note.

Snape, I know you probably want S. and R. dead right now, but if you decide R. doesn't deserve it, or that it's not worth the trouble you'd get into, cover story's that we'd an unfortunate accident involving the Willow. I hate to do this, but please, don't tell. J.P.
PS: Dumbledore knows. Everything. Says it's up to us.

Who would have thought that. Potter swallowing his pride to plead with him… it warmed Severus inside. This might just turn into the perfect blackmail material. He would have the 'Marauders' in his pocket. All four of them.

Evans didn't seem to like his grin.

A/N: Cliché, I know. But I have a goal that is pretty original. Bear with me, and discover. And review, please.
Brynn