Debra Fran Baker
"Why does everyone say he looks just like his father?" Remus watched Harry circle above the pitch, as he kept an eye on the Ravenclaw Seeker.
Snape stared at him. "I didn't realize that werewolves were blind, although that would explain your clothing choices. He looks just as James did at that age."
"Not on a broomstick, Severus." He shaded his eyes against the autumn sun. This was the first match of the season. There had been questions if there would be a season at all, after the events of the previous year. "Then he's Lily's son."
Snape looked at him with practiced contempt, before turning his attention back to the field, sparing a glance at the Slytherin stand. It was small. All the House stands were small. Remus looked at Gryffindor, and thought how huge it had been in his day, when he and Sirius and Peter had cheered on their friends.
On the pitch, the quaffles and bludgers, the Beaters and Chasers and Keepers, flew back and forth in a flurry of blue and red and gold, while some Hufflepuff fifth year girl gave commentary. High up, the two Seekers changed their flight pattern, hoping to get a glimpse of the Snitch. The teams traded scores back and forth. Slytherin cheered for Ravenclaw. Except for one.
"You will admit he has Lily's eyes."
"I will do nothing of the kind." Snape turned back, tossing his hair out of his eyes. "Lily's eyes were...different. I grant that the color is the same. And why are you so obsessed with Lily Evans? It's bad enough our world is that way about her son."
Remus shrugged. "She was a friend of mine, and she died nobly. And surely Harry deserves it. He deserves something."
Snape's mouth twisted. Remus took care not to stare at it. "Because no one else has ever suffered as he did? Please, Remus. Although, to his credit, Potter doesn't seek out anything but trouble."
"He's a brave boy. And thanks to his own efforts, he'll be a brave man."
"Playing for the Cannons. A waste of talent." Snape pulled his cloak closer against a gust of wind. "I didn't notice you among Lily's circle of admirers when we were children."
"You mean the ones James chased away?" Remus chuckled. "You know better than that. And, frankly, the Cannons could use a proven winner. It was his talent that saved the day."
"His talent, my potion. Granger's wit." Snape bit his lip.
Remus did not look at the empty seat in the Gryffindor stand. Instead, he followed Harry's eyes towards Slytherin. "Draco's loyalty."
"And many, many lives. He was willing for it to be his. I think he fought so hard in the end because he'd planned on not coming back. I know I didn't." There were cheers on the field as Gryffindor got a penalty shot. "Did you?"
"I didn't want to come back. There was nothing for me." His cloak was getting too worn to repair. He shivered in the wind. Winter would be soon. "But life is life, and Minerva got me the Dark Arts job again, so I had something."
"Excuse me, Severus?"
"You're cold. My cloak is very warm - I have a *caldus* charm on it. I'd put one on yours, but I'm afraid the fabric won't stand it."
"I'm fine." He wrapped his arms around himself, willing himself not to be cold.
"It's three days before the full moon. You're vulnerable to illness. Please. Share my cloak." Snape lifted his arm. Remus glanced at the crowd of teachers, students