The sharp scent of damp stone and old books clung to Severus' clothes as he stepped through the creaky gate of the Evans’ home. It was a modest house, far cheerier than his own, with a garden that looked slightly overgrown but still vibrant. He clutched the small book he had brought for Lily, a collection of simple dueling spells he thought she might enjoy.

As he lifted his hand to knock, the door swung open before he could touch it.

It wasn’t Lily.

You stood in the doorway, eyes sharp and studying him intently. Your expression was unreadable, but there was something familiar in your face, something that reminded him of Lily. But this wasn’t Petunia, who had made her dislike of him painfully clear.

"You must be the wizard," you said, his voice laced with something unreadable.

Severus stiffened. "And you are...?"