Disclaimer: All that jazz.
It had been just the slightest bit awkward, the faintest flavor of it, among the four of them since they had returned to Hogwarts.
Well, perhaps more truthfully the uncomfortable note was mostly between Sirius and James, and had begun when Sirius had received a note in the Floo and brought back an unconscious and dying girl. Up until now, they'd done everything together, practically blood brothers. But this summer had changed Sirius drastically, and he could see in his friend's eyes a flicker of confusion, of distance, every time he looked at Sirius. Remus, bless him, had done again what he was best at: adapted and done so quietly without comment. Peter only required an uncharacteristically careful and delicate explanation of the events of the summer, skirting around the edges of what none of them wanted to speak about. Peter had simply shrugged and avoided talking about it—or the summer—in favor of lighter subjects.
But James, outspoken and very much living still in a black and white world, could no longer understand his best friend.
They'd danced around it, covering it up in boisterous noise and exaggeration, but the night that Anna returned to school when Sirius came back late after dinner with his mind whirling with terms like flashbacks and extreme aggression and disassociation, the tension sprung up thick enough to cut with a knife. It wasn't quite curfew yet, and James, Peter, and Remus had been flipping through a Zonko's catalogue when Sirius came through the door. James looked up and all the confusion, the growing resentment and pent up anger was crystal clear even through his spectacles.
"Where were you?"
"Talking to Anna," Sirius returned, aware that his own voice had already become tight and defensive.
Remus jumped off James' bed, nudged Peter, and the two boys quietly went to their own corner of their shared room.
"She looked fine at dinner."
Sirius burst out, "Well she isn't! She has an anxiety disorder and she may never have a magical child and she's lost some of her own magic and her father's still dead! Dead, James! So don't you poke at her, or at me, just because she's in stinking Slytherin and comes from a dark family because if you hate her for it, you have to hate me too because I'm from a family that's got a far darker legacy than hers!"
"I don't hate her!" James denied hotly. "How could I? I just don't think she's good for you." His voice turned a little pleading now. "You're different, Sirius. You were different after you came back from France, and I don't like how obsessed you are…"
Torn between fury and understanding, Sirius shook his head. "It wasn't her that changed me, James. Or if it was, it was to make sure I changed in the direction I needed to go in. You couldn't know, James." Now he closed his eyes momentarily. "You couldn't know what it was like, living day in and day out there, surrounded by cold and the dark evil I didn't even begin to guess existed in this world." Shuddering, Sirius opened his eyes, stared at James. "To see children—our age, James, and younger than us, being taught with each breath they took that might is right, that blood that's been inbred for thousands of years is purer, better, and gives you the right to kill. To take your wand and make something so ugly and cause pain with it—to twist even the simplest and the most innocent of spells to an evil purpose. They're people too, and they didn't get a say into which family, what tradition, they would be born into and how they had to live their lives. That Anna, that any of them can still see past the lies they've been fed over and over again since they were born, is a miracle."
Shocked into silence by the passion and the pain in Sirius' voice as much as the words his friend was uttering, James blinked owlishly. Then both his and Sirius' heads swiveled in surprise as someone else spoke.
"They take everything that you believe, everything you have faith in, that you know is right and true and good, all the light, and they corrupt it."
It was Peter who spoke, Peter who looked long and hard at each one of his friends. He was white as a sheet and his hands trembled visibly but his eyes were steel. "You think, 'if I can just make it the next day, the next hour…' but if you stop fighting even for a minute, you lose. You lose yourself. And they win." Now hugged his arms to himself, rubbing up and down as if cold though the room was warm. "They always win."
It the quiet—so quiet that Peter's labored breathing was like shout—the four friends looked at each other. Finally, it was Remus that broke the frozen tableau. Gently but firmly, he sat Peter down on his bed. "Karee," he said to the waiting air. Sirius did not recognize the little house-elf who appeared almost instantly.
"Master Remus?" The house-elf frowned. "You is not being supposed to call…" she took another look at the scene before her and her frown deepened. "Hot tea," she said firmly. "Chocolate. Is you needing Headmaster Dumbledore?"
"No, I think tea and chocolate will be fine. Thank you. I wouldn't have called you unless it was important," Remus said solemnly.
Karee vanished. Sirius stirred. "I didn't know you could call a Hogwarts house-elf," he murmured.
"You can't, not really." Remus shrugged. "I'm not supposed to use it frivolously, but Karee was assigned to me when I first arrived at Hogwarts, to keep an eye on me, in case…" he trailed off, but no one was in doubt of what Remus was talking about.
In case I escape during full moon. In case I am too badly injured to move after one of my nights.
"You never told us about her," James remarked, trying too hard to sound casual.
"You never asked."
"So did she know…"
"That you became Animagi to run with me? Of course." Now Remus smiled. "And, I assume, so does the Headmaster as Karee makes reports to him each month."
"And Dumbledore never let on," James mused, half-amazed.
And makes it all the more unconscionable in the…Snape incident, Sirius thought, but kept to himself. If he had a house-elf watching, how did my stupid, dangerous prank get so far in the first place? Let alone…well, enough is enough. He wasn't going to blame Dumbledore for something he may or may not have known about. Yet.
Karee blinked in, this time holding a silver tray. "Drink," she ordered the boys in her no-nonsense tone. She thrust the tray towards Peter, and after a long moment Peter carefully lifted one of the mugs of steaming tea with both hands. After a beat, the other three followed his example, crowding onto Peter's bed. "And chocolate biscuits, but if Roo is seeing any crumbs tomorrow mornings, especially on beds, he is telling Karee and Karee is bashing your heads with the tray as well as her ownsies!" With that threat, the diminutive creature brandished her now-empty tray and disappeared.
They stared after her. "I don't recall house-elves ever being so…opinionated," James said after a moment.
Remus snorted. "When I was first introduced to her, she first threatened to beat me with her wooden spoon if I ever tried to use her for anything besides life-or-death. Then she told me that I was too thin, and started leaving chocolate and candy for me."
"I wish our house-elf was like that," Sirius said admiringly. "Kreacher just mutters whole speeches my mother's given about blood purity and the mission of cleansing the world of filth."
"You don't need any more chocolate, fatso," James retorted, and Sirius punched his shoulder.
"Pot calling the kettle black," he shot back, and took two chocolate biscuits to spite James.
Their bantering was having the effect they'd intended—even now, Peter was visibly relaxing, and his shaking had subsided. He was still pale and waxen and avoided everyone's eyes—probably ashamed of acting like a baby—and he did not say anything, but Sirius knew that he would be fine. And as for James—
"I bet Anna will want to see you, to say thank you," he said to James casually.
"Yeah? Well maybe tomorrow. Has she ever seen the Gryffindor commons?" James replied, just as casually.
"No, but I think she'd like to see it," Sirius answered.
"We can show her the birth-place for many a good prank then," James said, and his quicksilver smile flashed out boldly. Sirius grinned himself, and felt the comfort of their friendship enfold them once again.
"And you can introduce her to Lily and see what your lovely flower thinks of her, since you deem her a much better judge of character than yourself," he teased.
"Shut up," James growled, but he was hiding a smirk and both Remus and Peter now joined in to ruthlessly yank James' chain about the girl he'd one way or another been fixed on since first year.
-x-x-x-x-x-
The Halloween Ball was, as always, highly anticipated and highly talked about. Even among the Slytherins, there was an air of suppressed excitement mixed with a healthy amount of ostentatious disdain at the 'schoolgirl dance'. Childish or no, this was the first chance of the year that the children of the traditional Pureblood families would get to really attract a possible future spouse. Many, if fewer each year out of the traditional families still married straight out of Hogwarts or a year or two down. The most eligible, the elite of the Pureblooding heirs, were often snatched up early and no one wanted to settle for the duller specimens that were left after the first wave of engagements.
Such is the lot of those too biased, too snooty, to consider anything less than an old and shining-pure family bloodline, Severus thought with some scorn. He knew with bone-deep certainty that blood was blood. The red viscous liquid that had welled up in the thousand cuts he had scored on his father's flesh had bled just the same as that which pumped through the veins of the demon in human form, Rosier. And it had been Muggle, not magical blood, taken with violence and a sick glee in that violence that had created the impenetrable wards at Death Cottage…
Shaking the nightmare away before it could creep on him again, Severus schooled his face into neutrality as he ate. On his right, Anna Nott was conversing unconcernedly with Charlotte Greengrass. He had respect for the girl. Not even among those who attended Summer Gatherings were there many who would be able to sit not two feet from those who had participated in the murder of a beloved parent three times a day for meals, and maintain the air of a queen. That genuine respect and yes, even like, of the girl was why he continued to make sure he flanked her on one side at every meal. Greengrass guarded her other side, and that way if she had to sit and sup at the same table as her father's murderers, at least she would sit next to—perhaps not friends, but allies.
Not to mention the small matter of that Blood Oath to her father to protect her. And, of course, it gave Severus a fierce stab of pleasure every time he saw the flash of irritation and impotence on Rosier's face. Anna was Rosier's own personal failure for once, and Severus was damned if he wasn't going to enjoy every ounce of that failure. And though you don't know it, your second failure, he thought in the safety of his own mind. For your first failure was in approaching me at all. And soon, sooner than you think, you will regret having laid eyes on Severus Snape at all.
He had taken every single possible class there was available to him, and after seeing Nott off safely into the gallant—ugh!—escort of Black, Severus picked up his pace to get to his next class early.
He was the first one, but to his displeasure not five minutes after he'd laid out his textbooks, someone else walked in. He turned, an unpleasant insult ready on his lips, only to die away unspoken at the sight of who had disturbed his peace.
Lily looked at him, and her vibrant green eyes slashed through his walls quicker than lightning. Just as quickly, she looked away from him, and slid into a seat. Without her eyes beating at his soul, he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Hello to you too, he thought sarcastically. I'm very well, and you? Determined to ignore the girl who had once been his whole world, Severus turned back to his books. He extracted his thesis proposal and placed the scroll on the desk, and then opened the slim book he had borrowed from the library. The lettering was ancient Greek, and he was about halfway through painstakingly translating it into Queen's English. He could have used a transliteration spell of course, but Flitwick himself would have been the first to warn him of the dangers of those types of charms. Quick and easy and too often inaccurate. They take the first or most common meaning to each word, but only a human with intimate knowledge of the subject can catch the nuances the subtleties that an author may employ to hint at a different translation. And one changed word may mean the difference between life and death.
There was no room for quick and easy, not in this class and not in Severus' own work. It was too important. Still, it was irritating to Severus to feel Lily's eyes on his hunched back, watching him. And it was distracting him. He grit his teeth.
'I went down with Nicias, son of Xenophon, to watch the newest play. It had pleasing flattery from the philosophers and warriors. And as I saw the gods bless their favored mortals with otherworldly powers, Nicias called upon me to speak for the men of magic.
Nicias said: Are you then blessed by the gods, you men with strange powers to create and destroy with your carved wands of wood?
No, for none know the hand that gives one and not the other that might of dreams, I said.
But do you deny the gods?
Not at all.
At length, at the conclusion of the stage, I turned to Nicias.
'Tis blood that determines magic, and 'tis the gods who have determined the bloodline of man.
But the—
"Snape. Snape. Severus!"
"What? What?" He snapped out of the haze of ancient Greece and stared up at—Lily?
"You never change," she said with a weak smile. "Lost in a book." When he did not return her smile, her own faded. "Look, Severus, I just wanted to know how you're doing."
"Peachy," he said in a monotone. "None of your business, princess. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do."
"Translating an ancient Greek philosopher's speculations about the origins of magical power and the ability to wield it," Lily observed with a voice he'd only rarely heard her use—one she had told him, an eternity ago, was modeled after his own sarcasm. "He argued that it was blood that either did or did not carry the element of magic, but that the heart of wielding that power well came from a man's character. Interesting reading, Severus, since the author, Leonidas, was reported to have been later murdered by a group of Pureblood wizards who resented the implications that magical blood did not automatically mean greatness."
"What do you want from me, Lily?" he asked with more honest frustration in his voice than he'd shown to anyone in a long time.
Lily looked taken aback, her eyes clearly showing surprise at his tone. "I just…look, I heard some things from James, okay?"
Slowly, Severus laid his quill down. "What sort of things?"
"Things." She shrugged a little uneasily, her auburn hair spilling off her shoulders at the movement. "He said that you were at a Pureblood gathering this summer. That you somehow helped Sirius. That you had a hand in saving Anna Nott."
Severus' hand shot out, grabbed Lily's wrist. "Do not. Ever. Say that. Aloud. Do you understand?" he hissed, dark eyes furious. "Are you trying to get me killed?"
"No!" Lily tugged her hand away, eyes snapping herself. "I'm just worried, Severus!"
"Worried? Worried that perhaps the sneaky Slytherin somehow bespelled and hoodwinked your beloved pets? Or maybe that I'm plotting something sinister?" he sneered, the bitterness bubbling unchecked within him.
"You idiot thick-head! I'm worried for you!" Lily shouted. There was a ringing silence as Severus tried to understand what Lily was saying. She glared at him, and her fearless stance and stubbornly stuck out chin, flashing green eyes and tossed back hair was just so Lily that for once, Severus found himself without words.
"Lily…"
The door opened. Lily jumped, and even Severus nearly flinched, taken off-guard as he rarely was. Hastily, they turned away from each other as Professor Flitwick entered, and close behind, the rest of their class. "Ah, Snape, early as usual," Flitwick said cheerfully. "Evans, getting an early start to class?"
She mumbled something, and as Remus Lupin slid in to the seat next to her, he gave her—and then Severus—a suspicious glance. Lily looked away, but Snape merely met the boy's gaze with a cool one of his own.
"Now, we've gone through the history and development of the modern charm," the tiny professor said, perching comfortably on the edge of his desk. "As far back as we can trace, from the Greeks and Romans to today. Today's the day you've been waiting for. When you signed up for History of Charms and again when you were informed that your grades were sufficient to allow you into the class, you were told that this wasn't just a lecture class. Every one of you will be developing and writing your own thesis. That thesis will be attached to your Charms NEWT for the examiners to read as well as form the majority of your class grade. Those theses that impress me—well, I have plenty of friends all over the world who work in many different fields involving Charms. You might just find yourself a job. It has happened before, in years past whenever there was enough interest for this class to be offered." Professor Flitwick studied each of the six students who had not only shown interest in, but had in the past six years demonstrated consistently high grades and that spark of real talent and creativity rather than simple rote memorization in Charms. One Slytherin, one Ravenclaw, two Gryffindors, and two Hufflepuffs, all seventh years but the one Hufflepuff who was a frighteningly precocious sixth year. He had pushed all six of them hard in previous years, and none of them had disappointed. He had high hopes for all of them. It had been at least a decade since he had seen this much raw talent in Charms and that something more that a teacher looks for from their students.
They had come in polarized, the diminutive man remembered. He wasn't a long-time professor and Head of House for nothing, and he had known, even as he put together the class list in August, that it would be difficult in terms of class dynamics. All the seventh years resented the sixth year, and in turn, the younger Hufflepuff boy was exceedingly withdrawn and shy. Charms the only subject he excelled at, and Filius Flitwick had had to argue with the other professors on staff that he ought to be allowed to take the advanced class. The Slytherin and the two Gryffindors had…history. A lot of personal animosity there, and Minerva had spent many a staff meeting agonizing about the constant drama. The girl from his own House tended towards isolation and despised working with anyone else, regardless of House affiliation.
It was the end of October, and though he could not say they were all best friends, two months of classes with just the six of them—and a lot of group discussions, partner and group work, class projects, challenges, and whatever else Filius could pull out of his wizard's hat of tricks had mostly ironed out the tension. Out in the hallways and the rest of school, they might dislike or even hate each other, but in here they could—and by Merlin, would—work as a team.
So it was only now that he felt remotely comfortable in giving them the assignment they had signed up to the class for. He only hoped that the hard-won teamwork he'd forced in the classroom would not vanish now that they were going to start their individual theses. Past years of teaching the class, the last time sixteen years ago, made Filius confident that despite the solitary nature of a personal thesis, only those who sought aid and debated, discussed, and edited each other's work would come up with something halfway acceptable to his grading standard.
"Today, you will be spending the first half of class brainstorming ideas for your thesis. The second half, we'll be discussing them in groups. Giving each other ideas, pointers, ways to go from here." He beamed at all of them, enjoying the solemnity of their young faces, so ready, so expectant. "Get ready," he said with excitement, rubbing his hands together. "We're only just getting started on the real work."
-x-x-x-x-x-
"Aw, Lily," Sirius groaned. "You didn't."
"I just want to know what's going on," his best friend's girl said snippily. "What I've heard from James…I was friends with Severus once, Sirius. Now we're not, but I can't just not care if he's in trouble."
"No, I suppose you can't." Sirius remembered how furious James had been at the way Lily had stood up for Snape in years past. Even after they'd stopped being friends—something Lily refused to discuss, not even with James—she'd stalk away if any of them had been badmouthing the Slytherin. James had learned very quickly to just not mention him at all around Lily.
"So. Is he in trouble?"
Sirius squirmed. He couldn't exactly tell Lily the real truth, but then again the girl had a dogged, persistent way of getting what she wanted. He scratched his head and decided that a fellow Gryffindor wouldn't be offended by his being frank. "Look, Lily, there's a lot of things I can't tell you, okay? But…you know, I think Snape could use a friend. Or something. If it isn't obvious to others."
The red-haired girl narrowed her eyes, but Sirius held his tongue though his knees felt trembly. Never mind a viper's nest of dangerous Purebloods, Lily Evans on a crusade was scarier any day!
Finally, it was she who relented. On a sigh, she nodded. "Alright. I'll let it go. But Sirius, just tell me one thing. Does Sev- Severus, does he believe the nonsense that the Death Eaters have been putting about?"
Unspoken was her deeper question. Is Severus one of them?
She had thought that he was poised on the brink of becoming one, when she had stopped speaking to him. It was why she had pulled away, why she had let an insult that she had been called many times before become the reason for the end of a lifetime friendship. In the months prior, she'd seen the boy she thought she knew change into a frighteningly cold and emotionless shadow, caught glimpses of an intensity that scared her.
But if she had been wrong, if he really wasn't one of them and she had cut off their friendship and for nothing…
She wasn't sure she could live with it.
Sirius met her eyes. "You can't tell a soul," he warned her. "It could mean his death."
She swallowed, nodded. And there was her answer. And it was me in the wrong, all this time.
It took Lily a week to figure out the best way to approach Severus again. Sirius had impressed on her the absolute importance of secrecy, and she had once again wondered at the changes in the impetuous Gryffindor she'd hated and then tolerated and then somehow become friends with. Not to mention it had taken this long to figure out how to apologize for the irreparable damage her own stupidity, pride, and assumptions had done to what had once been a friendship of invaluable worth.
As she stood quietly watching the sun go down from the top of the Astronomy Tower, she still wasn't sure if she could.
"Evans."
She turned. "You came."
He said nothing, but strode over to stand by her and stare out at the darkening skies himself. She watched him, the darkness even in the twilight that he cut, a strong black slash. Even as children, she had instinctively recognized the danger and mystery that rolled off of him. In his ragged, ill-mended castoffs and unhealthily skinny, with the pale sallow features of a child under the shadow of an unforgiving home, even then there had been that intensity, that hint that he would one day be a formidable man. At sixteen, Severus wore his body far more comfortably than many of his classmates. It distressed Lily and brought a quick blush to her cheeks to realize that the dangerous air, veiled with that layer of ice and sneer that was the well-known trademark, was unreasonably attractive. Merlin, she thought, horrified. It's Severus! And besides, I'm in love with James. The thought of her boyfriend made her feel, as always, equal parts joyful and exasperated. The warmth that he brought, the way he stirred her heart, it was impossible to deny the connection she felt to James Potter.
Still, she was grateful to the brisk wind that whisked through the top of the Astronomy Tower and cooled her flushed cheeks.
He perfectly calm, able to dwell in the silence just staring at the last, defiant rays of the dying sun. She finally caved and spoke first, staring out at the horizon as well. "When you called me that name, it hurt a lot."
No need to identify what incident she was talking about. He didn't turn his head, but replied her flatly. "I apologized."
"Yes, you did." She took a quick, calming breath. "At first it was real hurt that made me not listen. We were best friends, Severus. You swore to me, when you first really started to spend time with Rosier and those Slytherins, that you would never let it affect our friendship. Then you called me that…" she trailed off. Swallowed. "After…it became less about the hurt and more about my pride." She squeezed her eyes shut, as if it would block out the truth she spoke. She did not allow herself to think as she laid what had gnawed at her heart since the day they had stopped speaking to each other.
"I was angry and too proud, too full of myself, to forgive you even though I already had. I knew that you didn't mean it. I knew that you were honest about being sorry. But I…Merlin. I wanted to make you crawl a little, to make you hurt a bit because you hurt me and embarrassed me. There I was just trying to help you, trying, damn it, to make James and the others see past the Slytherin and see the person I knew you were, and you just blew it all by your stupid mouth." Lily took a breath and when it seemed as though Severus was not going to say anything, kept going with a dogged need to finish it despite the sick nervousness now roiling in her stomach. "Then I was too proud to approach you, when I finally cooled off enough to see clearly. And you didn't come back." She wondered at the way her voice wobbled as she repeated it. "You didn't try to talk to me, or…anything. You just…it was like you didn't care about me, didn't care that we weren't friends anymore. You were spending all your time with your gang of Slytherins and one day I looked across the Great Hall to you, sitting at the Slytherin table, and I realized that I didn't know you anymore. Didn't recognize you anymore. You were so different. Are so different..."
Blindly, she opened her eyes, stared through a haze of unshed tears at the first stars that decorated the full dark that had come while her eyes had been closed. She heard Severus' breathing, still even and calm, beside her. "I could—and I did—make excuses about how you were turning dark, how you'd been going down that path already by the time you called me a Mudblood, how it was just the last straw and you weren't the boy I had been friends with anymore…but the truth is, I was too proud and too cowardly to fix what I destroyed by my own anger and ego and the more time that passed, the easier it was to delude myself into believing my excuses and not think about what I had done or what I had lost."
It felt as though she had eaten too much and then run a hard race. Steeling herself, Lily turned now to face Severus. She felt half-frozen as she met his eyes squarely and said what she had not had the courage to say before. "I'm sorry, Severus."
-x-x-x-x-x-
Afterwards, no one was quite sure when the unspoken détente had been put into effect. Still, anyone who attended Hogwarts that year and had an interest in inter-House gossip would note that sometime after the Halloween Ball (where the professors had, inevitably, taken copious amounts of points from students in various states of disrobe and given the Marauders two weeks of detention for spiking the punch), Lily Evans and Severus Snape no longer pretended as if the other did not exist.
That was not to say they were friends, as they had been in years previous before That Incident. Avid eyes, however, noticed that on occasion the two might nod at each other formally if passing in the hall, and more rarely, even speak to each other about relevant class work. Even more spectacularly, James Potter, though visibly restraining himself, was doing just that—restraining himself. There were no loud, explosive accusations or escalation of pranks. It was a most peculiar truce, and was the subject of conversation for a good three days before bigger and juicier news was to be discussed, and soon, it was no longer worth more than a fleeting raised eyebrow or snide comment.
Such is the lifespan of gossip amongst adolescents, and it afforded Severus and Lily—and James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Anna to become awkwardly acquainted with the terms of truce.
Author's Notes:
I apologize for having neglected this story for as long as I have! To be honest, I had to do some major rewriting as I reread some of what I wrote for this chapter a while ago. Hopefully there won't be as much to rewrite after the next chapter or so.
The chapter title is Latin for "peace".
