I apologize beforehand for the length of this chapter: I couldn't find a better place to break the writing into a chapter ending.
Severus' dark eyes remained locked on Pettigrew, and his mouth twisted into a snarl as he answered Lily. His own part in Lily's death was forgotten; all of the rage and self-loathing that had been eating away at him was now directed at Wormtail. It had taken a monumental effort to keep from murdering him as a double agent, and somehow, it seemed even more difficult to keep from killing him now. His wand became heavier in his sleeve, and the warning that Olivander had given him ran clearly through his mind.
Ebony and Dragon Heartstring. A very powerful combination, Mr. Snape. This wand will surely preform incredible magic. But with the wrong intentions, it can be deadly. Very deadly.
At the moment, Severus only wanted to test the potential deadliness of his wand. Never before had he attempted to perform the killing curse with such raw emotion behind it; surely, the blast would be strong enough to obliterate Peter Pettigrew and destroy the wall behind him. His rage taking control of him, his face contorted into an animalistic sneer of pure hatred, and before he realized it, his wand had slipped from his sleeve and into his hand. Pale, long fingers clasped onto the ebony with a vice-like grip. So tight was his grasp that his hand began to tremble, and his arm moved slowly: time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl.
Peter finally looked up from the floor, and seeing Severus' expression, he flinched violently, and his watery eyes flew to the wand that was very nearly pointed at him. He squeaked in the back of his throat; the noise reached Severus' ears and a dark, cruel laugh very nearly escaped him.
"Severus?"
The sharp, palpable concern in Lily's voice sliced through his anger, and set off alarm bells in the deepest recesses of his conscious. To kill Peter Pettigrew would equate to losing Lily Evans. If he so much as uttered the first syllable of the curse, there would be no return. Although his punishment would not be as drastic as Askaban, surely, attempted murder would end in being expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And only the only way he could conceivably make it easier for Potter to claim her would require him to call her a mudblood again.
The blood drained from his face as he realized that she had seen, that she knew how he hated Peter, and his thoughts flew into a horrified frenzy. She wouldn't trust him; worse, she would fear him. He swallowed, and with his hand still trembling, he lowered his wand. Peter stared at his right hand, wide eyed with fear, and continued to stare at Severus' scrawny wrist after the wand had been stored back in his sleeve. He closed his eyes, reining the maelstrom of emotions back into a semblance of control.
"Severus?" Lily asked again, the concern in her voice became softer and surrounded him a warm embrace. For the second time this evening, she touched him, gingerly resting a hand on the curve of his bony shoulder. He opened his eyes again, and took in the pathetic image of Peter Pettigrew. He looked as if he were about to wet himself, his entire body stiffened with terror. "Are you alright?" she asked this slowly, and he could hear the fear that had crept into her own voice. Lily had always been far too empathetic for her own good: she had picked up on Pettigrew's fear and embodied it. Or, perhaps, there was another reason.
He dared to think that it was fear for him.
"Yes," he said quietly, in a low tone of voice, all the while staring at Peter, "I'm fine." Pettigrew had still not moved an inch, and if anything, his eyes had only grown wider: his grey irises were glinting with unshed tears that had been produced by fear. Severus forced his body to relax, and his shoulders slumped beneath Lily's hand, and he took a deep breath into his lungs.
With a great amount of effort, he turned away from Wormtail, and faced the eleven year old girl. Her sweet, oval face had not yet filled out into the lovely features he knew: age prevented her cheekbones from being very prominent, and the gentle curve of her jaw was hardly as striking as he remembered it. However, her warm eyes, those lovely green eyes, were just as he remembered them. And now, they were not filled with laughter or joy, only concern with a lining of fear. Her eyes were truly the window to her soul. Severus had the sudden urge to kiss her. That was a longing that he had battled with since his twelfth birthday, when she had kissed him on the cheek. He never had the courage to return the gesture. She had never attempted again.
He fought the longing, forcing it the thought to unravel itself as he focused on the present. There was a silence that had built between the three, and it was likely that neither Peter nor Lily was inclined to break it. He knew immediately what she wanted him to say; throughout their friendship, she had hinted at it multiple times, but he had never been able to do it. His damned pride always seemed to get in the way of it, even though he knew that it was her only requirement of him.
Apologize.
As the foreign, ignored term crossed his mind, he could feel the ambitious monster within him do its best to obliterate the thought with a self-righteous rampage. There is no reason to apologize! It screamed, He is responsible for her death, and deserves to die himself! Why not at your hands? This is your chance! Take it now! He could not deny it: the chance to finally have revenge on Peter was a dark temptation; it sang to him of power and control – the effect was not unlike the one that the Dark Arts had on him. The wisdom that he had gained whispered to him, like some long forgotten ghost of the past: The first step is always the most difficult. But it will become easier as you go.
His pride had already suffered a huge blow at the hand of the Marauders, but doing his best to remedy things with Peter seemed to be of an even greater importance than that. If he refused, this would give Sirius all the more reason to despise him; and perhaps, this would create the grounds for James to deny him as well. The price he had paid to gain this second chance had been far too high to let it slip through his grasp now.
He studied Lily for only a moment longer, his dark eyes lingering on her soft features, knowing that he would do anything to call her his. From the angle he had positioned his feet he merely had to twist his neck to turn back to Peter, and as he did, he made sure to keep his face emotionless. There was emotion burning still burning in his eyes, but that was beyond his control.
Peter trembled in cowardice as Severus met his gaze. Was it possible that Pettigrew knew that Severus had come very close to ending his life?
"I apologize for frightening you," he said coolly, and it was easily distinguishable that there was very little sincerity in his statement. "I assure you Peter, it won't happen again." The second lie of the evening rolled over his tongue and spilled through his lips with a surprising amount of ease. "I'm Severus Snape." He extended his hand cordially, and the chubby little boy was only able to stare at his outstretched palm. Severus let it linger in the air for a moment before bringing his arm back to his side.
He had hoped that his apology, however lacking it was, would bring Lily to speech again. Against his wishes, she remained as silent as Peter, but her hand remained on his shoulder. He knew that it would take days, if not weeks to repair the damage, and he feared that some if it was irrevocable.
Unable to bear watching Pettigrew mull in silence any longer, Severus turned his gaze to the magnificent double doors that separated the Great Hall from the rest of the castle. They had been standing there for so long that every house had already filed out past them: the blonde head of Lucius Malfoy, a seventh year Prefect was last to pass through the doorway, presumably bringing up the back of Slytherin as they migrated towards the Dungeons.
"I think we should be going," he said firmly, and glanced at Lily before moving quickly towards the doors. She stared after him for a moment, and then hesitantly followed. Peter hurried to stay beside her, as if he felt that she would act as some sort of barrier between him and Severus. His shoes echoing softly as they clicked against the stone floors, Severus realized that he was the only one in the trio who knew their destination: as a Professor, he had often been required to visit the Gryffindor Tower on two occasions, but he knew the way well enough. Finding the way was not his challenge, however, remaining inconspicuous was. Lily and Peter believed this to be his first night at Hogwarts: he shouldn't know the directions to the correct tower any more than they.
Severus slowed as he reached passed through the doorway, waiting for Lily to catch up with him. He glanced to his left long enough to see Malfoy striding arrogantly down the hall, but he knew that questioning the Prefect would be a useless cover. Lucius would not know any more than either of the first years. There would be no reason for it – he was a Slytherin, and Severus doubted that he had ever been to the Gryffindor Tower, much less that he knew where it was.
Lily seemed to realize their dilemma at the same time.
"Sev," she murmured as she reached him, as if she was afraid of being caught straggling behind the rest of her house, "How do we find our common room?" He restrained from looking at her, instead scanning the monumental staircase that stood before him. The Gryffindor Tower was to the right, and the Ravenclaw was to the left. But he could not share that key information with her or anyone else: that would raise unwelcome questions.
"I don't know." He lied, keeping his voice low as well, "Did anyone mention which way it was?" He knew that they had not. It was unadvisable to mention the location of one's house quarters in a place as open as the Great Hall.
"I don't think so," she said, concern returning to her voice, "No, I would remember it if they did." He glanced at her, his eyes flicking from her features to Peter who stood three feet behind them. The fear had not disappeared from his eyes, but at least his features were no longer etched in stark terror. It would take even more of an effort to gain his trust than it would to gain Sirius' good opinion; but he did not care for Peter's approval as it was.
"There are only two directions we can go," he said confidently, doing his best to put Lily's concern at ease. Even if he forced them through a few wrong turns to keep from appearing suspicious, he would eventually guide them to the correct place. "Shall we go left or right?" Lily was quiet for several seconds as she considered the question he had asked her, and she seemed entirely unsure when she answered him.
"Right," she said slowly, "It seems to feel better."
"Right it is, then." He was unsure whether to be impressed or to disregard her correct answer as chance. Lily had always been rather insightful when it came to reading people; it was possible that her intuition could have spilled over into her guess. Or, it was simply chace. Either way, he was pleased that he would not have to find another path through the endless corridors to the Gryffindor Tower. If she had chosen left, it would have been possible to reach their common room, but it would have taken at least double the amount of time going to the right would.
He took long strides to the base of the grand staircase, still appearing confident for her sake. Of course, he was already confident in his knowledge of how to reach the tower, but he hoped that showing it would allow Lily to calm a bit. Her voice shook slightly in her last statement: no doubt, she feared being caught and disciplined by higher authority.
As he ascended the first few steps in the staircase, Lily did the same, but he could sense that Peter remained at the bottom. He glanced back at the toeheaded boy, and kept his features as impassive as his ability of control allowed. Pettigrew still did not move. Biting back a sigh of frustration, he continued on to the first landing of the grand staircase, and only stopped once Lily had reached as well.
"Aren't you coming, Peter?" He asked smoothly, catching the subtle signs of distrust that were cast in the traitor's visage.
"How – how can you be sure that we're going the right way?" he stammered, looking from Severus to Lily in apprehension. He looked even more fearful of punishment than Lily did. He was truly a coward hiding in the house of bravery; a skittish kitting hiding among lions.
"Does it –" Severus began coldly, but was soon cut off by Lily.
"We can't be sure," she reassured him, seeming to be cured of her own concern, "But we aren't going to get any closer if we don't try." Peter nodded dumbly, and taking her word to heart, scrambled up the staircase quickly, and soon stood with them on the landing. As soon as Pettigrew had reached them, Severus was off again, not wishing to spend any more time with him than was necessary. He strode up the stairs quickly, his tattered, second-hand robes swishing as he did. The thin fabric caught in the air more easily than the newer robes that Lily and Peter wore. He ignored the stab of resentment he felt for his poverty as the thought crossed his mind: this was not the time to mope about the circumstances he had no control over.
When he reached the top of the staircase, his memory told him to go right: that would lead to a second pair of staircases that would bring them closer to the tower, but instead he moved to the left. Their journey could not be without mistakes if he was attempting to remain realistic. The wide corridor that branched off in both directions was another prime example of the dramatic beauty in the architecture of the castle: the railing that overlooked the staircase below had exquisite detailing, and the high vaulted ceilings were decorated with accents that were reminiscent of the gothic period.
Numerous portraits were hung on the stone walls, chattering amongst themselves, expressing either contentment or regret that term had resumed. None of them seemed to take notice of the three first years that passed them by, although Severus noticed that some of their glances seemed to follow them. He could hear Lily's footsteps slowing behind his own, and curiosity struck him. Why would she be slowing? Peter was only a few paces behind them; it was unlikely that he had fallen that far behind. He dismissed the question; whatever her reason was, she soon return to his side. However, when he reached the end of the corridor, and was again presented with the option of either left or right, he was slightly concerned by the fact that she had not yet returned.
He glanced back at her, and he saw both Lily and Peter stopped in the middle of the hall, both of them staring at the portraits. The answer struck him immediately – although he had told her that pictures moved in their world, it was impossible to expect that she was fully prepared for seeing it in person. He waited for a little while longer, seeing if they would come towards them on their own. When they did not move in the time he had waited, he moved towards them, and only stopped when he was standing behind Lily.
"I told you they moved," he said quietly, and she looked over at her shoulder, grinning widely at him.
"I know," she said, and he noted that excitement had overshadowed the concern in her voice, "But it's amazing all the same." Peter had not yet commented on the portraits, and Severus could only assume that his dull brain had ben overpowered by the magical occurrence he was witnessing. But no, Pettigrew would have known that portraits moved; if Severus remembered correctly, he had come from a pureblood family. Perhaps he was only trying to cope with the shock of fear he had experienced earlier.
He let her watch them for a few moments longer, and then feeling that he had exercised his patience long enough, he addressed them both with advice. "We should be going," he said silkily, doing his best to be persuasive, "Before they send someone looking for us." Lily nodded soundlessly, and not bothering to see if Peter consented as well, he retraced his steps down the corridor. She trailed only a few steps behind him, and he assumed that Peter was either beside her or behind her. He took a right turn this time: it was the only way to correct mis-turn he had taken earlier. Lily and Peter followed Severus faithfully for the next quarter hour, sometimes backtracking turns that ended in dead ends, or ascending then descending staircases. After Severus felt that he had taken enough unnecessary mistakes, he finally navigated their journey correctly, and they arrived at the portrait containing the Fat Lady shortly.
Severus stared at the large portrait with a calculating gaze, and with a sinking realization, he knew that reaching the Gryffindor Tower had only been half of the challenge. In the two times that he had visited the Gryffindor common room in his long career as the Potions Master, he had always secured the password from Minerva beforehand. Now, with the rest of the house locked securely inside, it was a slim hope that there would be able to let them in. And without the correct password, they could very well be out here the entire night.
He certainly did not wish for Lily's first night at Hogwarts to end with being forced to sleep on the floor. He knew how to conjure up bedding – it was a simple charm that had been taught in his third year. But he could not preform it, not without attracting far too much attention to himself. In this reality, he had only received his wand a few short weeks ago. True, Hermione Granger, the insufferable young witch he had taught for six years had known half of each of her spell books by the time she had arrived to Hogwarts. It would not have been impossible for her to perform a charm that was at a level a few years ahead of her upon her arrival; after all, she had managed to brew Polyjuice Potion in her second year. All of the required ingredients had vanished from his private stock, and he doubted very seriously that Potter or Weasley had the intellect or the desire necessary to brew it.
But even so, producing bedding from thin air was not a risk he wished to take. There was the option of going to Minerva themselves, but that was immediately discarded. That would require him knowing where her private office was, and that would be even more suspicious than somehow being able to find his way to the Gryffindor Tower. Their only option was to wait until someone found them: that was an option that he entirely disliked, but it was the only plausible path he could take.
"Sev," Lily's voice broke the silence of the small corridor that they had wound up in, shattering his thoughts. "Why are you staring at that portrait?" Her question shook him; he had not been cautious enough. How could he have known that the entrance was concealed behind a portrait, if this had been his first time here? He panicked for a moment, wondering how he could amend his mistake, but he was saved by the high, falsetto voice of the portrait.
"Do you have the password, dears?" He took the chance that she had given him, and grabbed for it savagely.
"Password?" he asked, sounding more desperate than he had wanted to, "There's a password?"
"Of course!" cried the Fat Lady, "How else would the Gryffindor Tower be protected?" She realized the slip that she had made, squeaked loudly, and raised a flabby hand to her mouth, covering nearly half of her features that had been contorted by obesity. "I wasn't meant to say that," she said hurriedly, "Forget that I did."
"Oh, no," said Lily quickly, sounding relieved that they had been led to the right place, and as if she were trying to set the portrait at ease, "We're Gryffindors. But we're first years, and we haven't been told the password."
"Even so," said the portrait, her voice colored with both relief and firmness, "I can't let you in without the password." Lily looked to Severus, her face filled with apprehension, and her eyes shining with what looked to be panic, and he regretted the fact that he could not fix this.
"Sev," she said in a hushed voice, "What do we do now?"
"I don't know," he said to her, genuine worry filling his voice, "We'll have to wait until someone tells us the password." He smiled weakly at her, wishing that there was an easier way for them to get inside. This was his fault; if he had been able to control himself when he had met Peter, they would have been inside, sitting by the fire and preparing to retire for the evening.
"We could be out here all night!" Whined Peter piteously, as if he hoped to gain sympathy from either of them. Severus had the impulse to snarl at him, as he had no patience for whining or moaning about circumstances that could not be helped, but he reined the urge with a surprising amount of control. He had already slipped once this evening: he knew that he could not afford to do it again.
"It'll be alright," said Lily, turning to face Peter, "Someone will come looking for us eventually."
She was right: soon enough, someone would realize that three first years were missing. He doubted that Sirius or James would alert a Prefect of the dilemma, but he had faith in Arabella. Surely, she would notice Lily's absence, and someone could come looking for her, finding he and Peter in the process. She smiled reassuringly at Peter, and he seemed to cheer up, although his change in mood was only slight. She then looked at Severus, and her expression changed as her eyes settled on his.
It became warmer, lovelier, and friendlier.
His breath caught in the back of his throat, and relief rushed through him. What he had done earlier seemed to be entirely forgiven; although his apology has not been enough for Peter, it had been enough for Lily. That was all that had truly mattered to him, and the gaping hole that her hatred had left in his chest was suddenly filled again. Warmth flooded him, and in that instant, his broken heart healed. Twenty five years of pain, remorse, and darkness seemed to fade. It was as if those emotions had been taken from his body, seeping from his soul and onto the floor. For that single moment, time halted, and everything was right in the world. He took in a breath, relishing in the cleanliness of his heart, and let it out slowly. He stared at Lily outright, his eyes hungrily taking in her face, and the intensity of his gaze should have made her turn away. And yet, it did not.
There was a sound that filled the perfect silence: the portrait door was creaking as it swung open. The noise, however soft, shattered the sensation he had been feeling, and as his body were some great magnet, the emotions that had been gone were all now returned, and he knew that the battle had not yet been won. It would take seven more years for it to be complete, and victory was not certain. But giving into weakness was not an option.
"There you three are," said a voice, and Severus forced his eyes away from Lily, and onto the freckled, round features of a Gryffindor Prefect. His badge was pinned lopsidedly on the right breast of his robes. His red tie was knotted sloppily over his shirt, and it tucked down into his cardigan at an odd angle. His ginger hair was messy, and it looked as if it had not been combed in several days. His eyes were a flat shade of brown, and at the moment, they held displeasure. "It's against the rules to go off exploring on your own; you should know better." Lily's face became tinged with pink: this was the reprimand that she had feared since they had gotten separated from the rest of their house. "You'd better get inside, curfew is in fifteen minutes."
The Prefect strode towards them lazily, and then herded them through the doorway that had been concealed by the portrait. "The password is Asphodel," he said dryly, and then left the three of them to view the common room on their own. The walls were a warm shade of scarlet, and there were golden accents that had been meticulously painted upon them. They looked to be like one magnificent, intricate tapestry. Severus had never taken the time to pause and appreciate the interior of the Gryffindor common room, and he was glad that he did now. On the far wall, there was a roaring, cheerful fire. The fireplace was surrounded by comfortable looking scarlet armchairs, and a couch that was parallel to the mantle. There were tables in the far corners, with chairs arranged around them. There were several, arch–shaped windows that were indented into the walls, and they provided a view of the grounds below.
All in all, the common room was a very quaint, homely place. Severus took a great liking to it; he was even fonder of this than he had been of the Slytherin common room – they could have been more opposite.
"It's nice, isn't it?" asked Lily, and Severus was unsure if she was being rhetorical or if she was addressing him. He decided to answer anyways: he had been waiting far too long to hear her voice to not take advantage of it.
"Yeah," he said, sounding too enthusiastic for his liking, "It is." He would have never imagined himself to be so utterly content in Gryffindor, and yet, he was. They stood there for a while longer, taking in the warmth of what was now their home. When Peter's voice finally broke the silence, Severus had nearly forgotten that Pettigrew was there.
"We should be getting to bed, don't you think?" He asked nervously, looking to Lily for approval. Severus was wary of how attached he seemed to be to her, but doubted that Pettigrew posed any real threat to him: no, his only concern was Potter.
"I suppose we should," said Lily regretfully, and then towards Severus. "Good night, you two. I'll see you both in the morning." She smiled gently, and he could not help but feel that the smile was meant entirely for him.
"Good night, Lily." He said gently, and he watched her as she moved towards the staircase that lead to the dormitories. He stood there for only a little longer and only moved when Peter cleared his throat shakily, sounding as if he was afraid of Severus turning on him again. Severus said nothing as he took off, moving towards the opposite staircase that Lily had taken. He walked at a slow, leisurely pace, still surprised by how much he was enjoying having become a Gryffindor. With Peter still trailing behind him, he climbed the plaintive staircase without rush, and at the landing, was greeted by a small hallway that had several doors. First on the right read a sign that said: First Years, and he strode towards it. As he came close to the door, he could distinguish that an unnecessary amount of noise was being made, consisting mostly of yells and laughter: only Sirius and James could create a ruckus like that. He sighed quietly, and nearly fearing the scene that waited him, opened the door slowly.
He cracked the door until it was open a quarter's way, and just as he poked his head through, his eyes took in a sight he had not been expecting. A scarlet pillow was soaring towards him, and he was unable to move out of the way in time. It smacked his face with a surprising amount of force, and painfully pressed his nose into his skull. He heard laugher as the pillow fell to the floor, and his patience fled entirely. With a single, powerful shove, the door was slammed into the opposite wall, and the seething figure of Severus Snape stormed through the doorway. Sirius and James were staring at him, each quivering with laugher, and he was greeted with the most destroyed room he had ever seen. The contents of a trunk had been dumped into the floor; pillows, coverlets, comforters, and scarlet sheets were strewn across the room. It looked like a battlefield, and judging by the fact that each of them were clutching pillows in their hands, it seemed that a battlefield was exactly what he had stumbled into.
"What," he began slowly, his voice lowered to a menacing hiss, "In God's bloody name is going on in HERE?" By the end of his question, his voice had risen to a coarse yell, and his face had become white with rage. A prominent vein in his forehead began throbbing, and Sirius and James, being the imbeciles they always were, did not seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation. They stared at Severus, and then looked to one another, and burst into laughter so loud and breathless that they were soon in tears.
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