There had been something in that one, singular rendition of her name, that last, lingering "Lily" that struck her hard. Of course, it struck her hard ten minutes after she'd slammed the poor old Fat Lady in Severus' face and that one, singular plea had bled, muffled, through the portrait. By then she was holed up in her room with Mary, still spitting mad, too far gone this time to ever come back around.
Even then, though, even through the summer's worth of stubborn, haughty silence that followed between them, Lily was more often than not accompanied by an ice cube in her stomach and the needling suspicion that her (former) friend had hurt her just as much with his intonation of her own name as he had with Slytherin House's favourite slur. Even now, a good four months later, she found herself watching him, when she was sure he wasn't watching her (which didn't amount to much time, really) and she found herself wondering, to her own climbing disgust, if he was alright, or if, perhaps, his face was a shade paler than normal, or if the circles under his eyes were always that dark.
It wasn't until the Fearsome Foursome (or, really, the Damnable Duo and friends) came fumbling through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room one particularly dismal Saturday morning that Lily resigned herself to doing something about the terrible sense of unfinished-ness that had been gnawing at her for the better part of a month.
Potter came sprawling in head first, followed immediately by Black, who landed on top of James and ruffled his hair for him, laughing. They were followed, with a little more dignity, by a rather grey, tired-looking Remus and a chattering Peter, who was going on about how Remus really should have been at breakfast, though, as far as Lily was concerned, anyone who got up at seven for breakfast on Saturday was out of his bleeding mind (this, of course, disregarding the fact that she'd been in front of the fireplace reading a book since 7:30), and anyone who got up looking like Remus did right then really just shouldn't get up at all.
"I don't know what he was thinking!" Peter gushed, "He just attacked him! In the middle of the Great Hall, with all the teachers there, and everything. Big, bloody gashes! All over! Well, I mean, you saw him! In the hospital wing, all covered in bandages. And then, of course, half the other Slytherins came to rescue the blubbering git and Snape was down in maybe ten seconds. I think one of them lit his hands on fire. But Merlin! Guess he can't take a joke. I mean," and now his eyes suddenly went wide and he fidgeted anxiously, eyes darting to Potter and Black for rescue. "I mean I guess we know he can't take a joke, but – I just mean Sirius says stupid things about me all the time and I don't mind. And he says stupid things about James and he doesn't mind. And – well – I guess Sirius doesn't really say dumb stuff about you, but – "
"But it was pretty amazing," Potter cut in, having grappled his way to his feet. "What a show. I'd give anything to know what it was Parks said that started it. Did you catch it?" James asked Peter, hopefully, leading the way across the common room to the boys' dorms.
"Something 'bout a girlfriend," answered Black, "and then Snivellus said 'Shut up' and hexed him. I'd give anything to know what curse that was. Bloody impressive, that one."
"Bloody bloody, any way."
"You wouldn't use it, would you?" Peter asked, with a shudder.
Black shrugged. "I almost wish it were a school day. Imagine, all the Slytherins in the hospital wing and DADA all to ourselves."
"No one to prank," said Remus, in a quiet, hoarse voice, but close enough now that Lily could hear. Trust him to be practical and mischievous at the same time.
Potter turned and winked at her on his way up the stairs, Lily diligently ignoring him. She wondered, with no little honest dread, (and not for the first time), if all boys were that awful. Then she was out the door.
The trip to the hospital wing seemed to take much less time than normal, not enough time at all, really, but Lily put that up to empty hallways, rather than the stirrings of trepidation, and squashed it down beneath her notice. At least, she managed to tell herself she didn't notice until she reached the hospital wing door. Then she stopped cold. She stood at the threshold for a long moment, toying with a rather obnoxious and highly unhelpful thought.
Lily Evans, what the hell are you doing?
She'd sighed and turned halfway round on her heel when Madam Pomfrey's voice rang out from behind the door. "Mr. Sarkiss! Mr. Browning! Ms. Zabini! Return to your dorms this instant! I will not tolerate this behaviour! You'll be cleaning the wing for detention tonight. Nine sharp. This is a place of healing, not a place for picking fights."
There was a rather indistinct, whining response, and a clear "Hmph!" from Madam Pomfrey. "If you're well enough to be snickering and waving your wands about, you're well enough to get detention. Now, be gone with the lot of you!"
Lily slipped into a side hallway as three offended, offensive-looking Slytherins burst through the door she had been listening at, and stormed off towards the dungeons, all the while muttering nasty comments to each other. "Ugly little Mudblood-loving freak!" and "The git! He deserves every bit of it! Parks is going to be in there for a week!" echoed against the stone walls behind them.
Lily shuddered. What awful people.
After they'd gone, she crept, a bit guiltily, back to the hospital wing door. She no longer had any intention at all of going through it. There would be a time and a place, later, to talk to Severus. It would be too public here, and Merlin! What would she say?
No. She just wanted to make sure he was alright.
"Now then, Mr. Snape," Pomfrey was saying, "Lie back down. You're not going anywhere today."
"I'm fine," was the quiet, resentful response. Lily bit her lip.
Pomfrey tsked at him. "Well, I daresay you're better off than Mr. Parks over there. You did a nasty bit of work on him. What wicked curse of yours did that?"
Silence.
"Well, whatever it is, it's certainly nasty. I trust you don't intend to use it again."
Silence.
Pomfrey sighed, audibly. "Well, then! These burns will heal up alright overnight, but you're a bit warm for my liking. Been feeling a bit under the weather, have you?"
"I'm fine."
"Hmph! Not too tired? No headaches?"
"I'm fine," Snape spat, "Can I be excused?"
"No, you may not. I'm keeping you here overnight."
"I'm not sleeping here with him."
"What did he say to you?"
"Nothing."
"Well, then I'm keeping you here for a week! Out of concern for your mental health, you see. Going around attacking people for no reason – hah!"
There was a sound akin to a snarl and a long pause.
"He insulted a friend of mine."
"Badly enough to get himself cut to ribbons?"
"He called her a Mudblood whore."
And you haven't? Lily thought. Well, not quite.
There wasn't any question about who Severus was talking about. It wasn't like it could be anyone else.
"Ah," replied Madam Pomfrey, knowingly. "She must be special, this friend of yours, hmm?"
In the hallway, Lily bit her lip, leaning in as close to the door as she dared. The damned thing swung both ways.
"Well. No need to speak to me then, Mr. Snape. Of course, if you don't, I'll have no way to reassure myself of your undiminished mental capacity. I won't have any choice but to keep you here, for a rather long time, most likely."
Lily could only imagine the look on Severus' face.
"Yes, alright? She's special."
"Yes. Yes, that's perfectly alright. It's not a crime to care about people, you know."
"Unless those people would rather you left them alone."
"Ah," replied Madam Pomfrey, not nearly so knowingly as before. "Now tell me, Mr. Snape," she said, finally, "How long have you been feeling under the weather?"
"I'm not. I'm just – a little tired."
"Alright. And then how long have you been having trouble sleeping?"
Silence. Lily shook her head, and then glanced furtively up and down the empty hallway, suddenly acutely aware that she was eavesdropping on something Severus would hate for her to hear. It wasn't even anything she should want to hear.
Merlin. He must loathe that woman.
"May I remind you, Mr. Snape, that I am examining you in regards to your mental as well as physical health. I suggest you answer my questions."
"Ask different questions."
"Tut. I think you've lost enough points from Slytherin tonight, don't you? Are you unable to answer the question?"
"No."
"Well, then –"
"Awhile, alright?"
Pomfrey let out a great, exasperated sigh. "No. No, it is not alright."
Her shoes clicked across the floor, and back again. "Here, drink this, and off to bed with you. I expect you'll be in detention every night for the next month or ten. You'll need your rest, hmm?" Lily could here steam whistling from Severus' ears. "But you listen to me, young man, you are never to use that nasty curse again, understood? I expect you're sorry?"
If Severus replied, Lily didn't hear it. She'd retreated to her dark, narrow hallway, that led, she thought, to a habitat for growing ferns. She vaguely recalled being there once for herbology. There was certainly a rather noxious smell.
The hospital door made a shushing sound as it slipped open. She could hear Severus' footsteps, approaching, and –
"Oh!"
She put her hand to her mouth to cover the sound of her gasp, but it was too late. He heard her, he spun, and he saw her. And she saw him.
His hands were wrapped in bandages, and his neck was mottled with bruises, like something had been tightened hard around it. It was the bruise on his cheekbone, though, dead black against dead white, that had made her gasp, and he fingered it a bit self-consciously, now.
She couldn't speak. She shut her mouth, abruptly, just realizing it had been hanging open, but that was the best she could do. She was frozen.
"Fancy seeing you here," Severus said, finally. "How long have you been – loitering – in the passage, then?"
His voice held all of his usual sneering contempt, and that brought her back to herself.
"I wasn't," she said. "I was just – on my way to see Remus." Coming from the stinky fern room. Great one, Lil. "He's been ill."
Severus sneered. "He got better." He started to turn.
"I didn't mean that," Lily said, and Severus stopped. "I, ah – heard what happened at breakfast."
"And?"
"And you shouldn't have been fighting." Damn that prefect voice.
"He deserved it."
Merlin. All boy's really were that awful. "Honestly, Severus. It's not like you haven't said the exact –"
"I haven't."
"You have."
"He said worse. What I said – I didn't mean it."
"But you said it. You say it about everyone."
"I never mean it, not really. And not about you." He was looking at her, pleadingly. The bastard. "I'm sorry."
"You just don't get it, do you?" She spat. "Boys!"
Severus watched her, sullen and hurt. He didn't have the right to be hurt. Lily tried to stare him down, but the black bruise across his cheek drew her eyes away from his.
"I really am sorry," he said. He was like a child, saying the magic word over and over in case it worked the next time, trying and trying to repair something that hadn't worked right even before it was broken. And he meant it.
She tried again to glare at him and failed, rather dismally. Sighing, Lily dropped her gaze, bit her lip, and, barely hesitating, slipped her hand into his. Severus hissed, but didn't pull away. "I know," she said. "I know. So am I." And she brushed past him and walked away.
Their fingers parted last.
A/N: This has been reposted, thanks to a well-deserved slap on the wrist and some much-needed encouragement. I'm still not sure I actually like it, but it's better off up here than cluttering up my laptop. Concrit always welcome. : )