Chapter 9
A/N: I'm not gonna waste time, just read the damn thing! I've laboured on it for a while and now I can't think of anything to say.
Lily was tired. Ever since she had agreed to make potions to send to her father, she had been tired. She worked late into the night, every night, brewing endless healing potions, countless Invisibility potions and an infinite number of sense-enhancing potions. And standing in the shadows of the room would always be a tall, sallow-skinned man with an impassive face and deep, probing eyes. Watching her.
*****
Severus knew that he was killing her. Allowing her to work at such length was wearing her thin, causing dark shadows to encircle her eyes and a drawn expression to ensnare her face. With any other student, he would have stopped this long before now. He certainly would not have let it go on for three years as it had. Without any sign that it might stop.
But with Lily, it was different. Watching this quiet, mature girl work was somehow relaxing, calming. It lulled him into a sense of peace that he had not felt in years … not since … her grandmother. Lily Evans had had that same subconscious grace, the same essence of maturity and calm.
Despite the huge age gap between them, Severus felt … drawn to Lily. Drawn was the only word he could think of to describe how he felt about her, since his emotions were in far too much of a tangle to deduce anything further. He was not in love with her … could not be … was not. But there was something.
*****
It was Lily's fourth year at Hogwarts now, and she attended her classes with a kind of resigned wry acceptance. Her favourite class, was, of course, Potions, but she enjoyed everything, not least Defence Against the Dark Arts, taught by her great-godfather. Sirius Black had been somewhat of a confidant to her father, and the warmth between the two of them was revealed in the affection Sirius showed Lily herself.
There had been no word from her father since the last Christmas holidays, when he had sent her a brief letter to thank her for the potions. Now, in the summer term and the run up to exams, Lily was going about her work in grim solitude, denying herself the possibility of thinking that anything could possibly have happened to her dad. She was more intent on brewing the potions for him than ever, for she knew that he was probably very close to Voldemort, hence the lack of contact. She could not let him down just when he was most likely to need her potions.
Lily had almost completely given up on homework, unless it was for Snape. She needed the time in the Potions lab more than anything she could learn in Care of Magical Creatures or Muggle Studies. Potions had become her life, her soul. She could not imagine what she would do if anyone took her potions away from her. Or if anyone took away … she could not bring herself to think his name, but through an immense self-will forced herself. Severus Snape.
Her opinion of the Potions Master had changed so much since she had first heard about him. There had been a time when her feelings towards him were less than warm. That had been before she had even met him. As soon as she had looked at him, she had known that he could not be the man everyone said he was. That he was different.
Now, as a rapidly maturing fifteen-year-old, her hormones were everywhere. Hannah and her other friends were all talking non-stop about boys. Caroline Hammonds, another Gryffindor fourth-year, had actually started going out with Jack Andrews, who had grown into a skinny but agreeable adolescent. Lily was frequently asked whom she would choose out of all the boys in the school. Every time her mind flitted first to Snape, before she realised that this was out of the question. She could not love him, could not want him. The very idea was absurd; he was old enough to be her grandfather. But why did his voice smooth all the tensions out of her body, why did she yearn at night to have him near her just to feel safe?
As the exams drew ever closer, Snape looked increasingly harassed. He worked late into the night, every night. Once Lily fell asleep in his dungeon and had woken at two in the morning to find him still working, having not noticed her. She had started, and he had spun around with surprise and demanded: "Are you still here?"
She had been too astonished to ask any questions, but now she wished she had at least tried to persuade him to go to bed.
One week before the exams, Lily entered the dungeon to find Snape sitting at his desk. There was no paper in front of him, only a small black crystal to which he seemed to be muttering. Curiously she edged closer, catching the odd word but not daring to try to form any coherent meaning from them. As she watched, Snape pulled out his long, flimsy-seeming wand, drew back his arm and directed the wand at the crystal, speaking one word: "Begone!" The voice he used was not his normal low murmur or even his irritable snap, but rather a command so intense and authoritative that had it been directed at Dumbledore, Lily was sure he would have obeyed. There was a blinding flash of light, and the crystal exploded. Lily flung up her arm to protect her face from the shards of crystal she expected to fly at her face, but felt nothing. She looked around. There was no sign of the crystal or of its remains. Snape still sat at his desk, motionless.
"Professor?" Lily asked cautiously.
Snape turned his body in his chair and looked at her. His face seemed oddly serene, and in his eyes there was a light, a sparkle of such great joy that Lily wanted to shout out just from seeing him happy. He tossed his wand onto his desk and smiled at her. Not a thin, weary smirk, or a sarcastic sneer, but a real smile. He rose from his chair, and all the ruthless power in his movements seemed to be different somehow, as if it was still there but was directed at a new cause, a new aim. The fierce tension had disappeared from his body, and all of a sudden he looked younger.
Slowly he approached her, his eyes searching her puzzled face in desperate happiness. When he was about a metre away from her, he stuck out his left arm towards her and pulled up his sleeve. His arm was completely bare. Lily did not understand what this meant, and was about to look at his face when she suddenly realised. Her eyes widened.
The Dark Mark had gone.
"Professor!" she whispered. "Does this mean -"
Snape nodded slowly, grinning happily. "Lily, Voldemort is dead. Gone. We are free, Lily."
Lily's breath caught in her throat. Voldemort dead? How could that be? Since years before she was born Voldemort had been there. He had always been there, a continuing threat to their security. There had always been the odd death to remind them that if Voldemort wished them dead, then there was nothing they could do to defy him. How could he be gone?
"Dead?" she asked with a frown.
"Dead, Lily." Snape raised his face to the ceiling. His gaze seemed to penetrate through the ceiling, through the whole castle, up to the sky. "We are free!"
Suddenly, Lily understood. He was gone. Truly gone. He would never again darken their day with ruthless, cruel killings or merciless torture of the innocent. A great surge of joy rose in her as she too lifted her face to the eternal sky. The ecstasy inside her grew until she felt as if she would explode, and she opened her mouth and unleashed it, yelling to the sky in wild bliss. At exactly the same moment Snape too raised his voice, and their two cries intertwined in a strange harmony of sheer delight. As she let the air course out of her lungs, Lily turned the yell into song. Snape quickly understood, and they launched into an old wizarding song that seemed to flow naturally out of their bodies. Lily had never heard the song before, let alone sung it, but somehow she knew exactly which notes to sing. She was fairly sure Snape did not know the song either, but that he also was being guided by some unknown power. His voice was unschooled, but he did not let any of the notes slide, and the sound that issued from his lips was pure with joy. Even the dungeon they were standing in seemed to join in with the song, complex harmonies emanating from its depths. Lily looked at Snape in happy astonishment, and he smiled gently back even as he sang.
As they reached the climax of the hymn, there was a burst of sound, echoing from all around them. The very castle, every single living soul in its grounds and for many miles around was joining in with the song, almost without knowing it. The huge mass of sound rose up to the heavens, and even Muggles going about their everyday lives felt somehow refreshed and enlightened for no particular reason. The earth herself rejoiced at Voldemort's death, and everything felt her elation.
The song finished, Lily sank onto the floor, exhausted. She was still brimming with happiness, although it was more controlled. So much could happen now Voldemort was gone. She could see her family again … her whole life would be a huge celebration. She could rejoice with her friends, her father …
Her father.
A chill went through her even as she smiled, and she suddenly felt her happiness cut off as her mind was engulfed by question.
She looked at Snape. He was watching her uncertainly. "Lily?" he asked.
"Snape … where's Dad?"
Her teacher suddenly bowed his head in distress. "There's - there's been no word of him, Lily. I'm afraid the worst had been assumed."
Bitter fear and anger twisted through Lily's body. Her father could not be dead – not now. Not after all the joy she had just experienced. He had to be out there somewhere, sharing in it all. She shook her head stubbornly. "You're wrong. He's alive."
"I know."
She looked at him sharply. His expression was unfathomable but once again his eyes betrayed his emotions, and he seemed totally sincere. He reached down to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I think he's alive too, Lily. I believe you."
"Then where is he?"
"I don't know."
That was the first time Lily had ever heard him confess to not knowing something. It was frightening. For the past three and a half years, Snape had been her stone, her support to lean on. He always seemed to know everything; he could reassure her whenever she felt unsure or confused. Somehow his earnest statement that he did not know where her father was stabbed into Lily's heart and twisted. Right after she had felt such wondrous joy at Voldemort's death, her entire world was being torn apart. Her father was missing, presumed dead, and the one person she had always been able to rely on could not help her. She felt utterly helpless.
Without another word, Lily turned and fled to her room to dwell again in silent mystery.
A/N: Awww, poor Lily! Where's her father? Is he actually alive? What will she and Snape do if he's dead? Find out in the next thrilling instalment, up soon! Hehehe oh and please review!
