"Why are you hanging out with Potter, now?" Snape spat. He wore an expression completely the opposite of what he was feeling inside. His face read anger and bitterness, yet his heart felt like thousands of shards of glass had been thrown at him. To have Lily stare at him this angrily, with that much venom in her bright eyes, was painful in itself.
Lily's gaze hardened. Her eyes were slits.
"He's nice to me, Severus." danger crossed her tone, "He isn't ashamed of hanging out with me because of my blood. His friends don't want to torture me because I'm muggleborn, nor are they worshipping you-know-who at age seventeen."
Snape breathed in. He wasn't ashamed of her at all - she was the best gift he'd ever received. Her halo of fiery hair, strikingly emerald eyes and clear, pale skin were all so beautiful that he found himself staring at her pink lips as she formed the words. But it had been difficult to fraternize with her and be friends with the other Slytherins. Everything he'd ever said about her he wanetd to take back - all of the times he'd told Mulciber that they weren't really good friends, and reassuring Avery that he didn't like her that much. Because it was all lies. Lily Evans was possibly the best thing that had happened to him.
"James has matured. You're too busy insulting him to notice, Severus, but he is a loyal, good person and he really does care about me." she added when he was silent.
He choked on his own words, his head snapping upwards, "I - I do! I care ...about -"
"About me?" her voice cracked, "No, you don't. I'm just a mudblood, remember?"
Painfully, he did remember. All too well. The words slipping out of his lips, Lily shouting her head off, then later that night telling him that she couldn't be friends anymore. It hurt more than anything and he'd shed a few tears that night, waking up to a damp pillow.
"Lily -" he started.
"It's Evans to you." Lily cut in, "And you're lucky I let you call me anything."
Another stab the the chest. He struggled to find words, but when he found them, they came out louder than he'd intended.
"He's only friends with you ..." he cut off half way. It hurt him to say it.
Lily raised her eyebrows.
"He's only being nice to you because - because -"
He swallowed.
"Potter fancies you still!" he shouted.
Lily's cheeks, which were usually so white, flushed the smallest amount. With a deep breath, he watched her push a lock of red hair out of her face and she let her fingers linger on it. Snape watched her eyes for a sign of disgust, or anything which would mean that she'd dislike Potter again, but nothing happened like that. They brightened, but not in the angry way - like she was excited, Happy.
"And?" Lily said finally. She met his eyes again.
"And what?" he demanded.
"What if I fancy him back?" she said a little more confidently.
Bang. Like a bullet, like lighting struck him, like a dagger piercing his chest, he staggered backwards. Like a flash of green light had struck him. Pain like this was uncommon. It wasn't physical, but it was emotional. Burning filled his ears, a ringing noise filled the space between them.
"What?" Snape asked, shocked.
"You heard me." she became suddenly certain, "I fancy James Potter."
"No, you don't!"
"Yes, I do! Get used to it, Snape, because I fancy James Potter."
Snape couldn't bear it. Tears prickled at his eyes and he turned away before she saw anything. Like hundreds of sharp pieces of glass had been poured over him, like scalding water had been thrown, it hurt more than anything.
Before he tore off, another voice joined the conversation.
"Lily?"
That voice belonged horribly the the one and only person hurting him more than Lily. Potter's voice was quiet, hushed.
"James?" she said in return. Her voice was loving and gentle.
Snape didn't even bother looking back. He ran as fast a possible, his legs aching and burning from the effort. He sprinted far, far away until his heart hammered and his muscles simmered with the ache of running. Straight to the bottom of the castle, away from everything.
But the pain was still there.