He met him in Rome...

Almost sixteen years after the fateful Halloween. He has arrived at a potions symposium, and he is slowly walking along the narrow snow-covered streets. It took Severus great efforts to persuade Albus to let him go to the guild meeting for the Christmas holidays and, frankly, he was not in the mood for looking at passers-by, but this year the winter in Rome turned out to be the most disgusting, and the snowy wind literally threw him onto a passerby when he left the St. Peter's Cathedral. Holding back the curse that burst from his tongue, Severus pulled aside and was already drawing in air to briefly apologize when he saw his face. - Potter?! - he breathed out strangledly, looking at his old enemy. Slightly aged, having replaced his round glasses with simple rectangular glasses in silver frames, still shaggy, wearing a bowler hat and a good woolen robe... With a calm look and the same calm face. James Potter was hardly the man Severus expected to see anywhere. Since the tragedy in Godric's Hollow on Halloween 1981, no one has heard anything about the Potters. Members of the Order of the Phoenix burst into the destroyed house and found the living room destroyed and the second floor half demolished. A handful of ashes, which Albus Dumbledore designated as the disembodied Dark Lord. But neither the Potters themselves nor their son, who for some reason was declared the winner of Evil, were found there. For ten long years, the public believed that perhaps the hero’s family was able to escape - Severus believed in this, clinging to the last straw and hope. But on September 1, 1991, a boy named Harry Potter did not come to the great hall of Hogwarts. “Snape,” he raised his eyebrow slightly in surprise, putting the wand he had snatched back into its case. - What a meeting. He didn't look pleased, but he didn't look annoyed either. Looking around at his frozen classmate, James tilted his head in interest, as if he was looking at something very funny. Severus exhaled through disobedient lips, hearing himself as if from the outside. - You are alive.. “How observant of you,” he chuckled, shook off the falling snowflakes from his dark robe, and walked around him in an arc, preparing to leave. - Please forgive me, but I have to go. - Stop! - Having come to his senses, Severus turned around, barely managing to catch him by the elbow. - Is that all you can say? Potter! You and your family have been presumed dead for almost seven years! Potter stopped and sighed heavily. He looked at the clenched pale fingers and abruptly pulled his hand out of someone else’s grip. - So what? - he asked, turning around. Not a single emotion flashed in the dark brown eyes except calm and slight fatigue. James looked with the expression with which adults look at children pestering them. - So what?! - the rooster gave a treacherous voice. - Potter!.. “Lord Potter,” his old enemy calmly corrected him, making him choke on air. - This is, firstly, Mr. Snape. ...even in his fifth year, the whole of Hogwarts knew that shortly before his death, James Potter's father appointed him a test of ten years before he could try on the coveted ring of the head of the family. The brave Gryffindor laughed, smilingly informing everyone who asked that he didn’t need this title for nothing, not noticing how contemptuously the Slytherins and some Ravenclaws turned up their noses. Even in Hufflepuff there were those who looked at other people's bragging without understanding. And now... Lord Potter. Wow. “And secondly,” he continued, adjusting his black leather gloves. "Why should I care what others think, Snape?" - He looked at him gloomily and heavily. - Should I feel something towards other people's misconceptions? Everyone who should be aware of my status. - Black died trying to avenge you! - Severus himself did not believe that he was remembering the damned bastard. - And razed half of London to the ground, trying to get to Pettigrew. Apparently, James also sees his share of irony in the fact that he, and not someone else, is talking about this. He raises his face to the darkening sky, where thousands of small snowflakes swirl, painfully pricking his face, and sighs, exhaling a cloud of steam. - It was his choice, not mine. - His choice?! Severus feels his throat constricting because he remembers that horror and that rush of work in all parts and divisions of the Ministry, when even he - the accused, a Death Eater - was pulled out of his cell and put to the cauldron, like a Potions Master. So many potions were needed, ranging from simple healing potions to liquid Oblivate, which was then sprayed into the air over London. The Statute of Secrecy almost collapsed, turning into a disaster. And all because Sirius Black took up his wand and showed everyone what the Most Noble and Ancient Black family is and what its members are like when they go crazy with grief. Compared to him, Bellatrix seemed like a freshman with Lumos. Black followed the traitor Pettigrew and everything that stood in his way, be it a person, a car or a building, turned to ashes. Neither the Aurors nor the Masters of Battle Magic, hastily summoned from the continent, could stop him. He scattered everyone. Most of them were irreversibly crippled. And he stopped himself. Only when he caught Peter and cursed him so that the Aurors who arrived at the scene after, regardless of seniority and work experience, instantly crawled into the bushes. Many still wake up screaming in the middle of the night, unable to forget that horror. Sirius himself was also already dead by that time - the curse he used had drained his life. And the Muggles had to prove that half the city was in ruins solely due to a natural earthquake... And knowing all this... James could not help but know about it - the whole world knew! Knowing... he speaks so easily... so impossibly indifferent... Severus takes a deep breath, barely able to contain his bubbling rage. The chest is bursting with heat. - Potter... - Father! A ringing voice wedges itself into a rebuke that has not yet begun, like a blade colliding with a blade. James looks up and to the side, looking over Severus' shoulder and the indifference in his eyes melts like an ice crust on an autumn puddle under the soft touch of the sun's rays. A swift tornado in a dark winter robe rushes past and a young man surprisingly similar to him stands next to Potter. And Severus's breath catches. The boy... or rather the young man, was half a head shorter than his father, but just as shaggy, reminding the potions professor of his school days. Round glasses slid down his nose a little, and small snowflakes dusted the dark top of his head. The cheeks and nose, caught in the frost, turned red under the touches of the cold wind, and the bright green eyes sparkled cheerfully, reflecting the light of the gradually lighting up lanterns of the magic street. “Father, I completely lost you,” the out of breath young man shook his head, throwing a scarlet scarf over his shoulder. - Phew! Dad, we were going to... When he noticed Severus, he greeted him politely. - Hello, sir. And it seemed like it was simple politeness, but the look of such familiar eyes took my breath away, choking my throat. As if Petrificus was applied... And something must have shown on his face, because Potter Sr. looked at him sympathetically and sighed, catching the boy by the shoulder. - I remember, son. I’ll come up now, just to say goodbye to my classmate. Take a seat for us for now. The young man blinked in surprise and tilted his head owlishly, now examining the magician in front of him with a slightly different look. - Fine… He stepped aside. Snowflakes flew up, thrown into the face by the cold wind, and the boy disappeared, disappearing into the air. “Not apparation, but something similar,” the experienced spy thoughtlessly noted to himself and caught himself. - What?.. - Forgive him for the special effects. Harry doesn't like people from my youth. - He… The words didn’t come out, but my throat still wouldn’t let go. The rising storm of feelings covered me completely, threatening to tear down all mental shields and bury me, drowning me in raging feelings. After all, if... both Potter and his offspring are alive, then... They are alive!.. Alive! Which means... “Lily...” he exhaled in a hoarse whisper, turning to his old enemy. - Lily... is she with you? Will he see her?.. Will he be able to look into her eyes again?.. Apologize... He is so guilty of her... But Potter was silent. Merlin and Morgana, why was he silent?! James pursed his lips for a moment and looked away. - Potter!.. He rushed forward, grabbing him by the lapels of his robe and pulling him towards him, but Potter did not budge. He raised his hand, silently unhooking the potions master from himself and looked him straight in the eyes. The temptation was too great, so close - no Legilemens was needed to look into his mind. Severus threw his mind forward, intending to forcefully break through Potter's plywood shields... ...and pulled back, thrown back like a cannonball. It seemed that they had pressed his head against the bell, almost splitting his skull. Everything around began to hum, ringing and vibrating... “You shouldn’t have done that,” James said calmly, holding him by the shoulder. If he had not done this, Severus had every chance of collapsing onto the snowy sidewalk. ...Lucius once told him that the Potters by nature have a very complex relationship with the mental sciences... Having a high predisposition to magical vision, which is a facet of the almost lost Gift of Soul Readers, it is very difficult for them to erect occlumenation shields, while their natural defense is extremely weak... ...among the English magical aristocracy everyone knows about this. And yet, out of respect for the memory of this Gift, they do not dare to apply even superficial reading to the Potters, not to mention direct Legilemency... “What...” Severus shook his head, staggering back. Potter didn't hold it. - How… - You know that direct Legilemency in the vast majority of magical countries is prohibited for use without a special certificate and warrant for use? - James asked without much interest. “What…” Snape shook his head again, feeling completely shell-shocked. James's mental shields turned out to be so strong and monolithic that there was a complete feeling of meeting a metal wall. Potter took a deep breath and turned away. “Only out of respect for my late wife, I will not write a statement against you to the local Auror, Snape.” But next time, think about what you are doing. And with whom. “The deceased...” - Deceased?! He jumped up, overcoming the approaching migraine, stepped forward, but this time Potter dodged, not allowing himself to be touched. Severus fell forward, almost losing his balance. - Potter! What you… The wind whipped up around me, throwing white, stinging snowflakes into my face, painfully stinging my skin. Potter stepped back, and the wind pushed Severus away from him with almost material hands. “Lily died,” he said, and a white veil covered him from the potion master’s view. - Many years ago. On Halloween night. - No! - The Dark Lord came for our son, but he did not intend to kill me. A purebred magician in more than one generation... - judging by his voice, Potter grinned sadly, and Severus rushed to where it came from, but was again thrown away by the wind. - I got Stuperfi. But he didn’t feel sorry for Lily. - No! He promised!.. “He gave her a chance to leave,” Potter’s voice sounded from all sides, and Severus could no longer focus on him. - But what kind of mother would abandon her child? - He promised me that he wouldn’t touch her!.. The wind threw a handful of ice crystals into his face, cutting his cheekbones and chin. “You’re scum, Snape,” James chuckled, suddenly appearing in front of him and grabbing him by the throat. - What did you expect? The white blizzard still hid them from the world and from the rare passers-by on the street. Potter's fingers squeezed his neck with force, cutting off the air. James pulled him towards his face. - Even if he kept his promise, do you really think that she would forgive you, having lost her son and husband? Or did you think that you could replace us with her? Yourself? Brilliant. Potter's eyes, darkened with rage, seethed with barely restrained rage. Severus grabbed his hand, trying to unclench the steel fingers on his throat, but it was all in vain. Dark dots danced before my eyes. James looked into his eyes without looking away. - However, I have known all this for a long time. Severus was thrown against the wall of the house, and he convulsively inhaled such cold, but so welcome air. He slid backwards down the wall, falling into a snowdrift - truly, such a snowy winter had not been seen in Rome for several decades. Potter towered over him like a dark shadow. “I should kill you, Snape,” James said and winced. - I don’t want to get my hands dirty. Only in memory of Lily. Pursing his lips, he grimaced and with obvious effort forced himself to move away. - Pott... ha! Potter... Ha-ha! Kha! Potter, stop! - He awkwardly tried to get up, to his feet, but fell back, experiencing severe dizziness. “Stay out of my family, Snape,” James warned him. -Next time I won't be so lenient... The wind raised a snowstorm, forcing him to close his eyes for a moment, and the next moment James Potter had already disappeared among the white snowflakes.