A/N: This is my first fanfic ever, so I would really, REALLY appreciate it if you could read and review. I want to know what I have to work on with my writing, you see.
Rain. All Lily Evans could see was rain. It was pouring down, pelting over absolutely everything. Not that she could feel it of course; she was warm and dry within the confines of her compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Warm, dry, and alone. She pressed her cheek up against the ice-cold glass of the window next to her, watching as lashings of precipitation trickled down it, making fern patterns like so much almost-frost. She sighed, and turned away, shrinking deeper into the cocoon of sweaters and blankets that were wrapped around her. Soon, she would have to change into her school robes. Soon, she would have to pin on the bright, shining badge she had received so unexpectedly only a week ago, that badge which proclaimed to the world that she was Head Girl, keeper of the peace, solver of unsolvable disputes, and impartial authority on all things disciplinary. Soon she would have to stride into the plush, rather more richly decorated Prefects compartment and shrug on the mantle of a confidence she did not feel, could not feel.
She sighed again, softer this time, almost an involuntary mewl of unknown, uncalled for, dissatisfaction. Shoving aside the scratchy maroon blanket draped over her legs, she made to stand, to strip off her safe, Muggle clothes and pull on the hat and robes which would once again take her away from the safety and comfort of home, tugging her instead into a world of magic, and she thought wryly, James Potter's untidy black head flashing through her mind, mayhem.
Although that wasn't entirely accurate, Lily thought, as she pulled her sweater and t- shirt up over her head, and slipped her arms through the thin cotton sleeves of her school blouse. Home wasn't entirely Muggle. Her thoughts took an old, familiar turn, one that never failed to cause a painful stab of heat to flash through her chest, and her stomach to clench in misery. Severus.
It had been worse this summer than ever before. In a fit of uncharacteristic masochism, she'd gone to the forest where they'd frolicked as children, leaving all their cares – her sister, his parents- at the edge of the thick border of trees. Trailed her fingertips over familiar barks, plopped herself down onto familiar rocks. Visited the tiny park where they'd sat on the swings and fought over who could go higher. Walked past all the landmarks of their childhood. Her garden. The funnily shaped tree he'd discovered. The corner shop they'd frequented for periodic fixes of cheap, sticky chocolate. She'd seen all these places alone, weighted down by her own misery. Because it was all her fault, wasn't it? She should've done something, tried harder perhaps. The conversation they'd had on the last day of term came to her mind- unbidden, unpleasant. Their voices reverberated through her head- her frantic pleas and his whispered words. Whispers so venomous they might have been screams.
"Why can't we be friends anymore, Sev? Why do you insist on hanging about with those creeps? Lucius Malfoy and his- I can't even call them friends, they're more like his MINIONS. You know what they believe. You know what they say about…about people like me." Lily had faltered, scared somehow, by what she saw in the depths of his eyes, his pupils so dilated they had become almost like jet black pools of ink. Fathomless, sucking everything in, never showing a hint of any emotion she could recognize. She didn't know what to make of him anymore, but she knew she had to try, if only because of the confused, and rather scared eleven year old redhead he'd consoled, and the thin, painfully shy little boy whom she'd befriended so many years ago. His eyes had been like a wild animal's then, darting this way and that, ready to flee at a moments notice, but somehow still trusting all at the same time. That blind, hopeful trust was gone, now, and for the first time Lily Evans was scared.
"I heard Potter asked you out." He'd said, his voice low, untouched by emotion or inflection. "Is that true, then?"
"Potter asks me out every day, Sev, you know that." She'd replied, her voice defiant, even though her heart was racing.
"But you said yes this time, didn't you?" he'd said, something in his voice cracking, almost imperceptibly.
"Yeah I did, but, but I…" she'd trailed off, oddly lost for words. Why was he asking her these questions? She didn't know, not at all, but- but something deep within her stirred, rising to the forefront of her consciousness. Yes. She did know. Lily shook her head and clamped down on the stray thought before it could fully take root. Now was not the time.
"Severus," she'd said, a last, desperate attempt. "Please, just-"
"Just what?" He'd interrupted, cruelly, something fracturing in those black orbs. The flickering torchlight illuminating the stone passageway they were in had turned his features into a stark play of light and shadow. Pale white and pitch black. "You made your choice, Lily. And so did I. I'm sorry-" his eyes warmed fractionally, almost as if he really was apologizing even though his voice was cold and without feeling. Just for a second, Lily saw pain- pain, and also something that made her think fleetingly of a small, wounded animal, crying out for help- flash over his face.
But he was fast. Before she could fully register that little flash of whatever-it-was, he had schooled his features back into that emotionless, inhuman mask she had come to dread.
"I'm sorry I ever wasted my time on a filthy Mudblood like you." He'd continued, a frightening finality in his tone. "And," he'd said, a note of menace creeping into his voice, tainting it, "if you value your pathetic blood, you'll stay away from me next year."
She'd stood there, gaping, and watched as he spun around and walked off, walked away from her, his too- short robes flapping somewhat pathetically against his pale, narrow ankles as he went.
"Goodbye, Sev." she'd whispered, a tear trickling down her long, freckled nose. Even after all he'd said, she couldn't bring herself to be angry at him, not really. All she felt was a deep, all pervading sense of loss.
Lily buttoned up the last button on her blouse, and pulled the zipper of her plaid uniform skirt up. She slipped into her robes, set her hat on her head, and tried unsuccessfully to tame the wild red curls springing out of her hair grip. She gave up after a minute, grabbed her wand, and made her way to the front of the train, to the prefect's compartment. She paused in front of the dark, finely grained wooden door and took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the meeting- and the school year- ahead.
"Hello everyone," she said briskly as she strode in, all business. "I hope you had a good summer? Good. Let's get down to it then, shall we? I've prepared a preliminary patrolling schedule for the prefects, just temporary, mind you- we still have some kinks to work out…"
Lily Evans, Head Girl, continued her monologue- perfectly confident, perfectly professional. Only Severus Snape, seventh year Slytherin prefect, noticed- with a secret wrench of misery- that she was looking everywhere but at him.