Disclaimer: Anything and everything related to Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. I own nothing.
The clock slowly works its way towards midnight. The fire, present more for light and ambience than heat on this balmy June night, is dying out. An uncovered window displays the bright waxing moon. In a secluded corner of the Gryffindor common room Lily sits, head bent over text books and notes like the other few remaining students scattered throughout the spacious room. The quill in her hand taps absent-mindedly on the open book in front of her. She sees the page in front of her, but does not register its contents. Instead her mind is inmersed in events from earlier in the day.
"I don't need help from filthy little mudbloods liker her!"
Mudblood. Dirty Blood. As if not being born into an old "pure-blood" family makes her any less of a witch! Any less of a person! Lily has heard that word often over the past five years. Having it directed towards her is nothing new. But coming from Sev, Sev who has been her friend since before Hogwarts, who always seemed to understand her completely-it's more than a petty, elitist insult. It's a betrayal.
She knows he'll apologize over and over again. He'll swear he never meant to say it. He'll promise to make it up to her. He'll remind her that they promised to always be friends . She's heard that song before, and she's done singing along. This isn't about his precious Death Eater friends, his obsession over what Potter and his gang get up to after hours (although she shares the opinion that it can't be anything good), or even his ever growing obessesion with Dark Magic. He could not have chosen a worse way to violate her faith in him.
Faith. It's all that seems to sustain their friendship these days, she realizes. Faith that he'll realize the path he's headed down, that eventually he'll stop making excuses for Avery and Mulciber, that he'll cease spending hours in the Restricted Section researching some ghastly curse or another. Faith that despite what he's slowly becoming, he'll still be the kind, eager friend who introduced her to magic and wizards. Faith that a better part of him still exists.
Sev-whether he intended to or not-has finally shown her that her faith is blind. Six years ago he never would have considered lashing out at her the way he did; he wouldn't have cared that her family wasn't magical, wouldn't have used it against her in a moment of anger and humiliation. Now, though, he is a different person. He isn't going to change for her sake, and it was foolish of her to expect otherwise.
Foolish. She has seen what he's become, and was ignorant enough to think her friendship, her faith in the better part of him, was enough to change him. She is well aware he doesn't hesitate to refer other students of her birth as muddbloods, even if it is outside her earshot. How is she different from any other muggle-born? What is to keep him, as a Death Eater, from murdering her without a second thought just as he surely will other "mudbloods"?
"Lily," a voice says hesitantly, interrupting her thoughts. She looks up to see Mary MacDonald standing in front of her.
"Severus Snape is outside the common room," Mary informs her.
"Tell him I'm in bed," Lily replies stiffly. She's too emotional, too angry to face him at the moment.
"I tried that already. He said he'll sleep outside the portrait hole if he has to," Mary states nervously.
"Let him then," she retorts. The thought of Severus spending the night outside the enterance to Gryffinfor Tower actually makes her smile inwardly. How will he explain that to his Slytherin cronies?
"Lily, I'm pretty sure he's serious. He wants to talk to you and won't go away until he does. And you know it will cause an uproar if someone finds him there tomorrow morning," Mary warned.
Lily sighs. Mary is right: come morning chances are some first year Grffindor will stumble upon Snape sprawled out in front of the Fat Lady. Or worse, Potter and his friends will encounter him there after another one of their late-night jaunts (She, along with the rest of Gryffindor Tower, doubts the so-called "Marauders" will be deterred by the week's worth of detentions meted out by McGonagall earlier that day.). Perhaps it is best to resolve things between them sooner than later.
She stands up and heads towards the portrait hole.
While she was clinging to blind faith, Severus Snape chose his way.
Now she is going to choose hers. This will be her first step.
A/N: Please review! No really, I've got cyber-chocolate...
