Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and subsequent awesomeness belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.
Lily lay perfectly still in her bed, unable to sleep. It was past midnight, and the moon had long since set. Bundled deep within her covers, she shivered in spite of the heat. You're . . . you're a witch her thoughts whispered, over and over again. The words pulsed through her, carrying fire through her veins. Impossible, Lily told herself. Completely impossible, but the thought would not take. Instead her mind whirred with a myriad of so-called coincidences . . . glass bottles flying from shelves, shattering across the ground; confections vanishing from high-up cupboards, appearing in her tiny hands; the scents of sea-air undulating past her, miles from any sort of ocean . . .
"A witch," she murmured to herself, savoring the word like an exotic spice. "I'm a witch. And he's a . . . wizard? Warlock?" she mused, her thoughts turning to the pale boy in mismatched clothing. Severus Snape, she believed he was called. An odd name for an odd boy with an impossibly brilliant idea.
"A witch," she said again, giggling. The word set the air alight with sparks.
.. .. ..
Lily's shrieks of delight filled the air as she sprinted across the snow-covered lawn. Her dark red hair was sprinkled with ice crystals, and it flapped wildly around her as she ran. She ducked onto the frozen ground to gather up a mound of snow. The sound of muffled footsteps grew louder behind her, and she tossed the snowball backwards blindly.
"Unfair," Severus protested, laughing. "There is no way you knew I was there."
Lily turned around, smirking. "You haven't exactly got catlike stealth, Sev."
"No, no. I've been working on this . . . this charm. It's supposed to . . . muffle the hearing of whoever it's done on." He gazed at the lake in the distance. "It hasn't exactly worked out yet."
"Where did you read about that?" she rose to her feet, brushing the snow off of her cloak.
"Nowhere. I made it up myself," Severus' lips twisted into an odd smile, a mixture of pride and shame.
Lily narrowed her eyes at him. "That's cheating."
"It's a snowball fight."
"Exactly! The . . . erm . . . noble and ,ah, sacred code of snowballs must be upheld, Severus Snape!" her voice dissolved into laughter as she said his name.
"Oh of course. How could I have been so obtuse? So disrespectful to the honorable art of snowball fights?"
"Precisely."
Severus stepped back, outstretching his arms. "I do believe you have earned a free shot, Miss Evans. That is the punishment for my unforgiveable treason." His mouth expanded into a wide smile.
Lily made a show of gathering up mass quantities of snow. The resulting sphere was far too large to be lifted. "Any last requests, Mr. Snape?"
She did not wait for his reply, and instead whipped out her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," she said with a swish and flick.
Severus braced himself for the impact, only to find that the snowball had been left to fall to the ground unceremoniously. Instead, he felt Lily's arms wrapping around him in a quick embrace. Her warmth turned his insides to liquid. He wanted to stay there forever, wrapped in the cocoon of her affection.
"You're a great friend, Sev," Lily Evans whispered into his ear before breaking away.
Severus half-smiled, hoping the pinkness that had seeped into his pallid cheeks could be mistaken for the effects cold air. "Yeah," he said, coughing as the memory of her warmth faded away, "Y-you too, Lil."
.. .. ..
"So, this weekend there's a trip to Hogsmeade," James Potter said, leaning against the bookshelf. "And I can't seem to get this picture out of my mind. You and me, snuggled up in a booth with two mugs of butterbeer. Maybe even one mug, with two straws? I saw that in a Muggle film once." He grinned, placing a hand over Lily's. "What do you say, Evans?"
Lily slapped his hand away, glaring at him. "I've already got plans." She restrained herself from adding you loathsome fool.
"What, with Snape? It was one thing when we were younger. You didn't know any better. But, God, Lily, you've had five years to see what the Slytherins are like. And they are not like you."
"It is no business of yours, James Potter, what I do or who I do it with. If you'll excuse me, some of us are actually here to study." She stared intently at her Transfiguration textbook, hoping that he would vanish if she didn't look at him for long enough.
He pulled up a chair.
"Evans. Lily. Look at me." She tilted her head upwards reluctantly, her eyes shooting daggers into his. James pretended not to notice this. "Your eyes are such a nice color green, you know that?"
She scowled at him.
"You're a nice girl Lily. Hanging around with . . . with scum like Snivellus . . . it's not good for you. He's a Death Eater in training. All of them are, and you know it."
"You want to see how nice I am? Fuck off." But her voice had lost some of its fire. She didn't trust Severus' new friends farther than she could throw them.
The pair glanced up as three Slytherin boys approached; the scrawniest of the trio, a sallow boy with greasy black hair, strode up to their table. "Go where you're wanted, Potter," he growled.
"You might try taking your own advice, Snivellus. Besides, Evans wants me here. Don't you Evans?" he glanced over at her, and Lily gazed at him with contempt.
"Fine. Whatever. I'll save you a seat at the Three Broomsticks, Lily!" he called as he swaggered away, eliciting a frown from the Head Librarian.
Severus sat down, gesturing for his companions to go on without him.
"Why did you do that?" Lily asked.
"He was bothering you." Severus explained. "What did he mean 'save you a seat'? You didn't say yes, did you?"
"I can fight my own battles, Sev. And that's just James being James. He knows I would never go with him." She picked up a quill and continued the essay that James had interrupted.
"Are we okay?" he asked after a painful silence. His dark eyes were fixed on her.
"We're okay," she gave a sad, little grin. "It's just . . . you're scaring me, Severus."
"How?" he asked, his voice wavering.
"You know how," Lily sighed; her voice dropped to a vulnerable whisper. "I miss when we were little. Back when none of this was real. They were all just terms in newspapers, you know? Big words with no meanings that grown ups were scared to say." She gazed wistfully out the window, as gossamer snowflakes drifting to the ground far below. The delicate crystals caught in the branches of evergreens and currents of wind, morphing the landscape into a cold, surreal paradise.
"Yeah. I know."
They sat in silence, each lost within themselves. They did not touch, or look at one another. There was too much reality hanging in the air between them. Too many fears swirled in the tentative space where their friendship lay.
Lily did not see the tears pooling in Severus' eyes, streaming down the hollows of his cheeks.
.. .. ..
Severus Snape sat at the desk in his office, alone but for his memories.
"You're . . .you're a witch" . . . Lily's laugh filling his ears, his heart, his everything . . . Her words, fiery and wild, forever defending him . . . his words, foolish and angry and disgusting, "Mudblood" drumming against his skull until it drove him mad . . .her eyes, her perfect green eyes on James Potter's arrogant face, on her son's face . . . her corpse caught in the ruined house while the infant boy squealed and wept . . . her grave, her cold grave drowned in snow . . . the ghost of her voice echoing in his ears.
Severus sobbed, his tears slipping onto the desk's dark wood.
Snape drew his hands up to his face, cradling his head in self-pity. "Lily" he whispered, in the faint hope that she heard him, wherever she was. "Lily I am so, so sorry. So, so sorry."
His only response was silence.