LONG chapter. It had to be, really. Ending that was written too quickly. Sorry. Otherwise, I think it's an enjoyable chapter. Please R&R.
And I promise the fic will get more exciting from the next chapter. Promise promise promise. It's pretty bad at the moment. But oh boy, do I have plans.
AN: The issue has been raised about my characterization of Snape. Well, of course, his general demeanor and tone are 'lighter' here than in canon - because in canon we see the 38 year old double-spy, who has lived a full life of misery, suffered profusely, and become truly embittered etc. We see Alan Rickman, basically (there aint nothin' wrong with THAT... ;) ) but of course the 15 year old Snape, despite his awful upbringing, is going to be able to have a sense of humour. And is going to have adolescent concerns. And I like to think that is the innocence that Lily brings out in him - and that's part of what made Snape love her. That he was able to become removed from himself. Although, if you were asking me about my depiction of the teenage Snape - I would certainly not say 'confident'. He just gets surges of confidence on OCCASION. Just my take. :)
"It has got to be minus ten degrees. This is absurd!" Snape wheezed.
"I'll be done in a minute! Just – put your hands in your pockets and think of something warm."
It was almost as though Lily was doing it on purpose, sometimes.
"I refuse to stand here, watching you build this monstrosity, whilst hell freezes over."
"Come and help then!" Lily gestured for Snape to join her, so begrudgingly he trudged through the inches of pure white snow that had now formed around Hogwarts, giving it a sort of mystical glow. It was not unlike the endearing, rosy colour that had permanently attached itself to Lily's cheeks, giving her a constantly flushed look, this particularly cold December.
Lily handed Snape a large carrot.
He stared at it for a moment, twirling it in his hands, which by now must have been frosting over, despite the somewhat ailing protection of two pairs of holey black woollen gloves.
"And what, exactly, is this supposed to be?"
"Take a guess."
"I wouldn't want to." Snape replied, smirking.
Lily rolled her eyes, mirthlessly. "It's his nose, idiot."
"Oh; because it does so closely resemble one." Said Snape, regarding the carrot dubiously.
Lily mimed the motion of attaching the carrot to the loosely shaped pile of snow before them.
"You want me to place this carrot underneath those grapes and thus endow our cold friend with a nose? And if I do," his eyes narrowed in suspicion, "we can go inside?"
"Yes." Lily sighed.
Snape smirked and took a bite from the end of the carrot.
"NO!" Lily shrieked, but Snape had already danced out of her reach. He held the carrot behind himself, then high above in the air, where his lean figure; which was slightly taller than Lily's, meant that her orange goal swayed inches from her fingertips. Snape took a large step backwards, almost losing his balance as his foot sunk deep into the snow, and shoved one end of the carrot into his mouth, holding it there.
Even with the task of managing the large carrot, his mouth succeeded in forming the irreplaceable and unforgettable Smirk of Triumph, which was so instantly and infuriatingly recognisable to Lily.
She leant forwards and bit on the carrot, unwilling to admit defeat. She raised her eyebrows in a mixture of defiance and suggestion, then sunk her teeth through the carrot and chewed slowly, annoyed.
Snape clucked disapprovingly. "You don't know where that carrot's been." He said mockingly.
They sat down inside at their separate house tables and tucked in to lunch. The food was becoming delightfully festive – it was a thousand times more colourful and tasty and exciting than anything Snape had ever eaten at home; that much was certain. Snape's eyes sought out Lily. She was laughing with her friends; the mudblood Mary among them.
It was not until five minutes later that Snape realised he had instinctively thought of Mary as a mudblood in his mind. He then recalled having said the word, merely in impassive description to Avery, Nott and Mulciber, twice over the course of lunch.
Snape had also noticed, with a certain but definite smugness, and though he would never admit it aloud; relief, that James Potter was conspicuously absent. This was more pleasing now than ever, for he had recently been eerily visible or audible in any location where Lily was to be found. Snape didn't know why there had been a sudden increase of interest, or indeed how Potter and his moronic friends managed to dog Lily about the castle, almost as if they had some tracking device on her. Snape wouldn't have put it past them, but his disdain and cynicism believed they lacked the magic.
He watched her longingly.
This is it!
His excitement spread to the extent that the dampness from the outdoors was forgotten in a glorious haze of anticipation.
This was the last time, for two weeks, that Snape would have to see Lily from the other side of the Great Hall, of which Snape sometimes detested for its distancing Greatness. For tomorrow, he thought happily, there will be no more Slytherin, no more Gryffindor, no more Potter and no more Black – not even their Shared Cauldron would separate the two from tomorrow.
Students tended to return home for the Christmas holidays. For Snape, of course, it had never even been an option. Before his first year, Eileen Prince had let slip to Tobias Snape that returning home from school for Christmas was optional – subsequently, Tobias had taken Snape by the scruff of his shirt and let it become known that Snape was most certainly not to return to Spinner's End to spend his holidays, both for lack of money and lack of want. So, despite Snape's annual despair at having to wave off Lily as she left the glacial castle for the Hogwarts Express, he had no other choice.
For Lily, on the other hand, it had always been somewhat difficult: though her parents were always thrilled to see her, and had missed her, and had about a million questions regarding her school year and her progress; her estrangement from Petunia was becoming painful. Lily only felt alienation upon returning home, and the feeling was only intensified by the lack of Snape. So far, every year, she had spent the two weeks lazing about in her bedroom, in her garden, or in the forest where she and Snape had built a hideout when they were ten years old.
But this year, in the second week of December, when Professor McGonagall had asked for the names of those who were staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas break, Lily had hesitated.
What was she leaving for?
Admittedly, she missed her parents, but she failed to see the point in her return when all she did was worsen her relationship with Petunia. And, she always missed Sev. She wasn't sure if she could endure that annual sinking feeling she got as carriages, seemingly drawn by the air, slowly drove her away from Hogwarts, the only place where she had ever felt truly alive, and from Snape, who just smiled and waved. Year after year. Smiled and waved.
That smile hurt Lily more than she could ever say.
She didn't even want to think about how difficult goodbyes would be this year. Would Sev still smile and wave? Would he finally drop the act, and – like her, at least give their separation the dignity of not being turned into a maddening façade of complacency? Or, would he – and this was, perhaps, the thought that betrayed Lily most, hold her, and kiss her with the spiralling passion that he had done the first time her lips had met his?
Is this a joke?
What?
Are you honestly thinking about your best friend, Sev, like that?
Lily had already argued with herself for what seemed like an eternity on the subject of 'What is going on between Severus Snape and I?" until she eventually had to concede and confide in Alice. Lily verbalised as much as could be verbalised (which wasn't much) to Alice; she told her that they had kissed twice and tried to explain that, whilst they still talked about friends-y stuff, something was definitely going wrong in their dynamics, because a student falling prey to her imagination and appearing hot and bothered in a Professor Binns' class was almost entirely unheard of at Hogwarts.
"You're friends, with benefits." Alice stated bluntly.
Lily held her pillow over her face in embarrassment.
"Benefits…?"
"Benefits." Alice clarified. "Kissing, cuddling, touching, fondl-"
"I get the point!" Lily snapped. Alice looked startled for a moment before the two collapsed into giggles.
"I just – I just don't know how it happened!" Lily exclaimed.
"He's a Slytherin. If you gave me Lucius Malfoy, on a plate, I'd-"
"Is this relevant? I do not condone this unhealthy obsession that you've been harbouring." Lily said, shaking her head gravely and sympathetically.
"Yes, it is relevant. What I'm saying is – they have that sort of allure, don't they?" Alice was inevitably fantasizing about some sort of intensely blonde and amorous love scene by the time she had finished her sentence.
Lily raised her eyebrows, then remembered the look in Snape's eyes when he had straddled her by the tree. She recalled the feeling that had briefly overcome her – that Snape had induced – the desire to be his, underneath his weight; to be controlled by his slightest whim.
"Mhhmm." Lily mumbled.
A moment later a bang from the common room below shook them.
"Look," Alice had said, "it's really up to you, Lils. Make it what you want. But you must realise that it's very difficult to salvage friendship after love's had its way."
Lily had thought about Alice's words, then paused.
"Alice… I don't know if I - love him."
Alice had merely rolled her eyes, knowingly and clearly exasperated.
"Love, lust… You show me the line between."
Lily had wisely concluded that something she could not even define was not worth the best friendship she had ever had.
And over Christmas, in staying at Hogwarts, and having an expanse of time together, hopefully alone, she determined to ascertain Snape's opinion on the topic, and perhaps reach some closure regarding said topic.
Breaking it to Snape that she was intending to stay gave her an archetypal Patronus-making winner of a memory.
They had sat in the library, the eve before the Hogwarts Express departed for London, books strewn across a large square table, amidst a large collection of sweet wrappers, quills, ripped or crumpled parchment and a few collectable chocolate frog cards. Lily sat on her chair cross-legged, opposite a hunched Snape, whose hands were cradling his head in lament and desolation: he was losing their game of chess.
Snape's chess set was very old and battered – it had belonged to his great-grandfather; Horatio Prince – but for once, Snape's lack of wealth wasn't a drawback. Snape knew the chessmen well, and they obeyed him readily, even offering advice where it was due.
"I don't need your advice!"
"No, look, I've been in this situation a thousand times! Send the Knight, then I'll come from behind and-"
This particular Rook always liked to counter Snape at every order; but in the end always came through for him. They had a silent understanding.
"You fool! You fool! Now if she just moved her Bishop, she can take our-"
"ENOUGH!" Snape roared a little too loudly, considering the library; not battlefield, surrounding him. Madam Pince rounded on them in a split-second.
"No – I've had enough. The two of you have been making almost consistent noise since 3.45!"
"Sorry – it won't happen again. Promise." Lily smiled sweetly.
Madam Pince muttered something inaudible then stomped off.
"You are a fool." The Rook hissed.
"Rook to C3." Snape said, full of triumph and malice.
The Rook was sent to his grave, as Lily's Queen leapt off her throne and repeatedly smashed his head with her large crown until he fell to the board, concussed.
"I think you take this a little seriously." Lily said.
"I will not take insubordinance." Snape declared, as though warning his few remaining pieces.
Even though he was presenting losing dismally, he loved it when Lily would play chess with him. His chess set was one of the few wizarding objects his mother had ordained him with, and he prided himself on it.
Eventually, however, Lily checkmated him.
"For the first – time – ever." Lily smugly asserted.
Snape grumbled. "Lovely leaving present Lily, thank you."
Lily could not stop an insanely wide grin spreading across her face.
"Actually-"
"You hoodwinked the chess set. I knew it!" Snape whispered.
"No! No! Listen…" She leant forwards slightly, over the table and the debris of their two hour library stint. "I'm not leaving."
Snape forbade himself to believe that she meant what he thought she meant. He forbade himself because the letdown would have killed him.
Lily looked at him expectantly; excitedly. Snape did not even dare to blink.
Doesn't he care?
"For Christmas. I'm not going." Lily gurgled quickly.
Snape, for a moment, wondered how the other people in the library – the people around them – the world – could go on doing whatever it was that it did – could continue its pointless discussions and lectures and seminars and trivial meetings and appointments and court hearings and who even ate these days, anyway?
For if Lily had dared to touch him, in that moment, his inexpressible happiness would have surely surmounted his bodily limits, and he would have dissolved into a million different molecules.
"Oh – shut up and pass me one of those Fizzing Whizbees." He said. "I believe I am entitled to a rematch."
And they had played two more games of chess, of which Snape won both, and consumed copious amounts of chocolate and sweets. Every so often, The Bloody Baron would glide pass the pair, to see Snape levitate off his chair for a few seconds, before landing back down with a "pop", or see Lily momentarily breathe fire after chomping on a Pepper Imp. The Bloody Baron would then lament the poor state of affairs that was now Hogwarts and its lack of discipline. A disgruntled Madam Pince would have given up hours before, having been shouted away by a disgruntled Rook who was contemplating desertion amidst "ludicrous" orders.
Snape presently sat, watching Lily from the other side of the Hall, praying for Dumbledore to finally arise and wish the departing students farewell and happy holidays. They had attended the last class of term just hours before. Yesterday Lily had broken the news of her staying to Snape, and despite the short notice, which angered McGonagall, Lily's lie that she had misplaced her note saying she was amongst the remaining students was enough to placate her head of house.
More upset, were Lily's parents. Lily had owled them a mere day before the evening they were expecting to collect her from King's Cross.
Lily couldn't pretend that was the biggest concern on her mind, however, when a large, black and silver cat came floating through the air and stopped, levitating high above the Gryffindor table.
It's howling and cries were only outdone by a scream of "WILMA!" from an almost sobbing Valerie, two seats down from Lily.
"My cat! What is happening to my cat?!"
The room fell silent as the cat continued to panic; it's paws flying in every direction as it struggled to remain upright in the air.
Then, in what was both bizarre and brilliant, it opened its jaw and (Snape could hardly believe it) – sung.
An offensive and extremely loud duet of James Brown and James Potter serenaded the Great Hall.
'I FEEL GOOD!
(Ban-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!)'
– The backing vocals were unmistakably the surprisingly tuneful Sirius Black.
'I knew that I would!
(Ban-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!)
I FEEEEL GOOD!
(Ban-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!)
I knew that I would!
(Ban-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!)
SO GOOD!
(DUN-DUN)
SO GOOOOD!
(DUN!)
I GOT YOUUUUU!
(LILY EVANS! THIS ONE'S FOR YOU!)'
- She froze. Mouths dropped. Eyes widened. Lips pursed. A few chuckled. (Slughorn.)
Valerie slid out of her chair at the sight of her cat singing in the air.
"Wilma's got SOUL!" Alice roared, as people began to laugh and sing along with Potter's diabolical version – corruption – of 'I Got You'. Lily had no idea how Potter had even managed to discover Muggle music; albeit marvellous Muggle music.
'I feel nice!
(Ban-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!)
Like sugar and spice!
(Ban-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!)
I FEEEEEL-'
But then the song dissolved into the yelping and howling of Wilma again, as she slowly descended into Valerie's arms.
At the end of the Hall sat Dumbledore, who, despite having put an end to the festivities rather abruptly, was smiling.
He flicked his wand and the doors to the Great Hall opened fully; and there, armed with their wands and their grins, were Sirius Black and James Potter.
They strutted in.
Professor McGonagall looked as though she was ready to shoot off her chair and wring their necks. Her face was flushed.
"Whilst it may not be Hogwarts protocol – and I'm sure the Sorting Hat may have one or two scruples concerning the theft of its domain of public singing-" Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling from behind his half-moon spectacles, "I will forever be of the opinion that a good sing-song is quite the mood heightener."
McGonagall flashed a shade of puce.
"However, I'm not sure our feline friend here-"
"Wilma." Jynea announced. She then gasped and her hands flew to her mouth.
"What a delightful name," Dumbledore mused, "I'm not sure Wilma - felt the same, so I should like to discourage future displays of affection through the possessing of furry little creatures."
Professor Flitwick coughed.
"Or scaled creatures. Or indeed hairless creatures. We should, of course, not discriminate when it comes to creatures."
"Sorry, sir!" Came the echoing voice of Potter. "It's just love – y'know?" He seemed to survey the entire Gryffindor table; and its entire collection of girls, before catching Lily's eye and winking.
Several sighs could be heard.
Professor McGonagall now seemed to have engaged Dumbledore's attention – and she looked highly disgruntled.
Lily closed her eyes, as though to block out the pain, whilst James and Sirius strode up to her and squeezed in either side of her.
Snape, from somewhere far, far away, silently wished for the imminent deaths of James Potter and his little accomplice – and – to add to their list of crimes, Snape noted that Potter was an extremely poor singer (which was unsurprising, as so far as Snape could tell, Potter's reason for existence on Earth was to destroy Snape's ear drums) and that Black was an extremely good singer; adding to his swooning Romeo persona that the entire school seemed to be in love with.
Lily knew it would be no use to beg for them to leave her in peace. She reminded herself every seven seconds that in under an hour she would be rid of these two boys for two blissful weeks.
"Told you I could be charming, Evans." James purred into her ear.
"And this is just the beginning of our tirade of chivalry." Sirius said, as if to the table at large. Jynea swooned at him and he blew her a kiss, accordingly.
"He's right. This is just the first task of a very, very long list…" James winked. "And it's all for you."
Alarm hit Lily. The previous month, after their first Quidditch loss, Potter had threatened to go to any lengths to woo Lily. Remus had then proposed that he try and be romantic – then perhaps – perhaps – he would have a chance in hell. Potter had visibly taken this onboard, and knelt before Lily, pronouncing that he would aspire to win her affections somehow. Sirius had suggested twenty tasks to show his devotion. Lily had groaned in expectant agony, and Potter had accepted the 'quest'.
"I tremble with excitement." Lily deadpanned.
"You will by the time I'm through." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Less than an hour later, Snape found himself standing at his usual spot, doing the annual send-off.
This time, Lily was with him. They were waving goodbye to Potter and his gang, who had just mounted a carriage to be led to the Hogwarts Express. Potter had seen them, and his expression had changed from dumbfounded to anger to apparent depression.
They found themselves trudging painfully through inches of snow, uphill, back to the courtyard of the castle. It was late, the air was crisp and there were the hints of snowfall, making the scene quite picturesque.
In a frozen, agonizing, disastrous sort of way.
"I – am – so – cold!" Snape spoke in a deadly hush.
"I'm taking you to see Madam Pomfrey – don't get too excited! – because you clearly have something wrong with your blood circulation and body temperature. I have never known someone to complain as much as you!" Lily replied, laughing.
Snape shivered in response. He didn't mind her teasing. In fact – the prospect of it for the next two weeks made an insatiable excitement grow.
It did nothing to warm him up, though. He was still nearly dead from frostbite.
"So – Potter's romanticism – I suppose you're loving it, are you?" Snape's chattering teeth disguised any feeling in his tone.
Lily looked at him sceptically. "Don't be stupid. That toerag? He'd sooner romance you than me."
"That – is – highly – unlikely-" Snape sneezed loudly.
Lily almost cooed at how – cute- he looked, in his billowing robes and thick green and silver scarf tucked into his black jumper –
Allure? Severus Snape was Allure's antithesis.
They were slowly but surely nearing the castle, for which Lily was thankful, because evidently Snape's lungs couldn't take anything colder than tropical temperatures.
"I can be chivalrous too, you know."
Lily smiled sympathetically.
"Are you sure that's not the hypothermia talking?"
"I can be romantic."
"You really do need to see Madam Pomfrey." Lily said, worriedly.
Snape had an extremely rare look of – Lily couldn't read it completely, and could only describe it as – boisterousness – on his face. It was entirely foreign, coming from him, and it didn't suit him either.
Snape knew what would happen: Lily would say that Potter was pathetic – that Potter was this, Potter was that – and then he'd eventually do something to prove himself that would be so – so charming – so gallant – that Lily would have to stop repressing the girl inside herself, of which her Gryffindor friends were of course so liberated, and she would be swept off her feet.
He would not let it happen.
They had now reached the empty courtyard.
Snape grabbed Lily's hand and spun her around, to face him.
And Lily instantly knew that this was where friendship ended, and something else entirely began.
"I can make sweeping gestures, after all…" He put on a lower, smoother voice. "It is difficult to lay aside a confirmed passion." He said, bringing her hand to his lips and looking up at her.
But Lily had already snatched her hand back and began running inside the castle. Snape's dejection kept him stuck to the spot.
He then began to panic. Why had she run away? What had he done wrong?
He had thought that that was a nice quote. It wasn't Shakespeare, but Shakespeare quotes were supposedly overrated, – weren't they?
Stupid idiot. Now look what you've done. You've freaked her out.
Lily's resolve strengthened that night, as she lay in her empty dormitory and she thought about Alice's advice. That it was up to her – whether her friendship with Sev was ruined or not. And Lily decided that it wasn't worth chancing it.
Snape leant under his bed, and opened a small cardboard box which contained a few items that forever would be close to his heart. Inside were his recent letters of correspondence with Lily. He fished around for a moment, before bringing out an old postcard he had found at Spinner's End, on the back of which he had scrawled a few choice quotes that he had either heard in passing or seen on the television.
'True love never did run smooth' – William Shakespeare.
Snape considered this. Perhaps Shakespeare wasn't as overrated as he had thought.
