TITLE: You Only Say You're Sorry

AUTHOR: Meredith Bronwen Mallory

FEEDBACK: mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com -- I live for it.

WEBSITE: Work in Progress

PAIRING(S): Lily/Narcissa, James/Severus, Lily/James, (eventually) Harry/Severus, implied Remus/Sirius [whew!]

SPOILERS: Through OotP, though quite possibly AU

RATING: R, to be on the safe side.

DISCLAIMER: Do I look like I'm in charge? Didn't think so. Needless to say, I do not own Harry Potter. I don't even own the couch I'm sitting on! Those lovely witches and wizards belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Bros, and assorted other companies. All of these groups have some very scary lawyer people in dark suits, so I am not going to mess with them. The only thing I own is the idea for the story itself.

SUMMARY: The past is never gone-- it follows you, hovering, daring you to turn around.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you, as always, for taking the time to read my story. Double 'thank you's go to Laura, ummatti, Brenna, Judy and Alioth for the kind and wonderful feedback. And to Ra-darling and Leigh, my two best slash angels.

This story will switch back and forth between the present time (July 1980) and Lily's memories of her time at Hogwarts. Present is in second person, the past in third. Hopefully this is neither stupid nor confusing. I owe my soul and several pounds of flesh to my beautiful beta, Ayashi, for all her help.

Feedback sought with all the desperateness of a whore. I'm not ashamed. Much. ^^;

And now, I will shut up.

===========================

You Only Say You're Sorry 2/?

by Meredith Bronwen Worth It

[Yesterday]

Lily is sitting in first year Arithmancy, forcing her mind to focus on the swiftly moving numbers and alchemical symbols in her textbook. Occasionally, she stops, tapping her quill aimlessly, paused in the task of scribing an answer on her parchment-- but she comes back to task soon enough, jolted out of whatever thought has consumed her, though its hard to say what exactly might distract her from the dusty classroom, or bring her back to it again. It's only her second week at Hogwarts and she is quite intoxicated with it. So strange, to have slipped out from under Petunia and into this new, strange world where her older sister can not follow. Her footing is unsure in her new environment, but she was equally unsure back home, where there were occasions of tea pots pouring tears, or flowers turning into candy. Father turned a blind eye, Petunia sneered, and Mother just smiled-- still enough of a child to appreciate the wonder of such things without worrying about how or why they happened. Like a rainbow or a day both sunny and rainy-- Mother explained-- this things were gifts. Out of the ordinary. Now Lily has been transported to this high castle-school, where there is no such thing as 'ordinary', 'normal', or even 'dull'. She likes it here, she's already decided-- she likes the dorm and the whispering night giggles, even if she doesn't fully trust the other girls. They're kind and they know how to smile, but there always a faint fear prickling the back of Lily's neck, that perhaps they will be tempted to cut off her hair, or dump water on her bed, as Petunia did when they shared a room. The only thing Lily really misses from home is her broom-- not her Quidditch broom, but her regular, non-flying broom. The one she used to sweep the back porch with, smiling in the shade of the morning-glories and climbing ivy; the one that let her know she was a witch, even before she'd ever heard the name "Hogwarts".

The teacher-- one Madam Lee-- gets up from her desk, robes brushing the stone floor, and that startles Lily back to the present. Licking her dry lips, she applies herself back towards problem nine, nodding and adding her voice to the general murmur of assent when Madame Lee says she must leave the room.

"Continue working on your assignments, class," the older woman advises, "I will be back in a few moments. Holly," she gestures vaguely to the dour-faced portrait on the far side of the room, "will keep an eye on you and report back to me."

There are more vague mumblings of, "Yes, Madam Lee." Lily looks up long enough to see the teacher's skirts disappear out the threshold, before casting her eyes to the end of the textbook page.

"Five more problems," she says to herself, both relieved and daunted. The loops and crosses of the common elements take a long time to make with a quill, since she isn't used to using one, and they look sloppy anyway. Briefly, she longs for a pencil.

The hiss of discontent starts out soft, but grows quickly. Like a wave, it over takes the Gryffindor side of the room, becoming all-out grumbling. Lily frowns, looking around for the source of discontent, but all she can see is the lanky Slytherin boy making his way towards the front of the room to hand in his parchment. She looks down at her own, half-completed assignment as feels a prang of admiration.

"Show off," someone says, a stage whisper that everyone can hear. The boy turns around, head bent as eyes on the floor as he starts to make his way back to his seat.

"Hey! Why don't you give the rest of us a hand, here!?" This from another Slytherin, despite the fact that instructions to work individually have been scrawled clearly on the board since the beginning of class.

"He thinks he's so much better than we are."

The boy doesn't say anything, though his gaze is a venom pure and distilled, and pretty soon a waded bit of scroll is winging across the room. It makes a dull sound as it hits its target on the shoulder, others flying to join it.

"Are you deaf?" jeers someone sitting in the row behind Lily.

"Are you mute?" someone else suggests. Now it's a small book, something from Divinations, being thrown.

"Say something!" a cry from the seat next to Lily, "Say something, you freak!" Lily's mouth is hanging open, because she's heard that _word_, that word she never expected to hear at Hogwarts. Now the boy does look up-- his eyes are black and bottomless, face pale as a the moon and framed by hair perfectly opposite in color. His mouth twists, and he continues to try to make his way back to his desk, pushing past the legs and arms stuck out to bar his way. A Gryffindor boy-- one with round glasses and messy hair-- leans over towards the Slytherins, knocking the other boy's books on to the floor. They scatter on the stone tile in utter disarray.

Without thinking-- because, what is there to think about?-- Lily is out of her seat, kneeling between the neat rows, ignoring the slight kicks of shoes and rain of scrap parchment. The boy pauses, crouched, staring at her as they both reach for the same book. He snatches it first, he doesn't trust her-- she's seen that same, frightened look on wild deer-- and she doesn't know why. Shrugging, she goes to collect his quill, which is also on the floor, resting against the leg of one of the desks. Her hand is almost crushed by the boot that comes down, and she hears the feather snap. It's Sirius Black-- she's heard his name sighed by besotted first year girls-- that's staring down at her, smirking, offering her the broken quill.

"Looky, Snivellus has got a girlfriend!" he crows. Lily turns away, leaving him holding the ruined plume. She's standing protectively in front of the boy-- 'Snivellus'? that can't be his real name-- even though she's several inches shorter than he.

"Just stop it!" she cries, seeing in her mind's eye herself, Petunia's friends pulling away her coat, tossing it where the streetcars might pass. Holly, peering at them stiffly from within her gilt frame, gives nothing but a hum of disapproval. The wads taper off, not of Lily's doing; she knows that for sure, it's more the sound of footsteps, out in the hallway. Briefly, she cradles the gathered books to her chest, stacking them neatly, before holding them out to the boy. 'Snivellus' eyes her for a moment, then snatches them back, raising his chin as he looks around the room. Then he turns-- rather gracefully, Lily thinks-- and stalks off to his seat.

"Lee's coming!" someone hisses as Lily slides back onto her bench. The messy-haired Gryffindor climbs up on his desk, to the delighted giggles of the girls around him, brandishing his wand.

"Expulsum!" The wads and books on the floor seem to vanish in an invisible wind.

"Way to go, James!" Sirius applauds as James jumps back down in his chair, making a mock little bow.

So, all is quiet and orderly when Madam Lee reenters and, though Lily is sure Holly will tell all, she still can't help but feel sick to her stomach. Listlessly, she plods through the rest of the problems not really caring when the numbers refuse to cooperate. She's more concerned with gazing across the classroom, trying to catch the boy's eye. She wants him to know it's alright, even if she's not really certain of that at all.

The word 'freak' echoes loudly in the classroom, though no one else seems to notice.

It's hard to catch up with him in the hallway, after class. He really is tall for his age, and his long legs keep an impressive stride. She has to run to even keep pace with him, once they're side by side. For a moment or two, they continue in silence, before he seems to realize she isn't going to fall out of step with him.

"What do you want?" he asks tersely, or as tersely as one can with such a pleasant, youthful voice. Lily blushes, because for a minute she really did wonder whether or not he could speak, and she feels bad.

"You don't have a quill now," she rummages in her bag, producing one of her own. "I have an extra, if you need one." The color on her cheeks only intensifies as he eyes the glitter-encrusted plume. "I'm sorry it's all sparkly, but at least its not pink."

"I don't need one," he says, turning quickly. She's out of breath by the time she catches up with him again. He glares at her through the curtain of his think, shoulder length hair. "Why are you following me?"

"What's you name?" she asks instead, smiling brightly, to show him she comes in peace.

"It's rude to answer a question with another question."

"Oh." Lily's smile becomes apologetic-- it's just another one of those things she didn't know. "Well, I'm going to potions, too!"

He rolls his eyes, "So run along then."

"My name is Lily Evans," she chirps instead, having long practice with going around seemingly immovable obstacles.

"How wonderful for you." He really doesn't seem to have much of an expression on his face all. "Sounds positively Muggle."

"Why, yes!" She's pleased now, because they seem to be easing into a real conversation. She is unaware that he has insulted her, or at least attempted to. "My parents are both Muggles. So's my sister, Petunia," she can't help but make a face, "and all the rest of my family, I suppose. Mum was really pleased though, when I got my owl. We're Londoners, born and bred, and this is my first time away from home. Where are you from?"

Now he stops dead, so that Lily actually stumbles past him a bit. "Near Bellsmede," he blinks, as if uncertain as to why he's bothering to answer her.

"I've heard it's pretty, there," she replies pleasantly. "And your name?"

"Snape." It's so clipped, she can't make it out. "Now, will you leave me alone?"

"But we're almost to Potions!" They're walking again, though she doesn't remember when.

Snape makes a snorting noise, "Look, I don't need a protector. Or a shadow. Or a fluffy little... whatever you are."

"I don't know what I am," Lily admits blithely, "I've been trying to figure it out for a while." After a moment, she adds quietly, "Not a freak."

"No," there is genuine surprise in his void-dark eyes, "you're not. And neither am I."

"Us not-freaks ought to stick together!"

"Stupid girl!" Any softening of Snape's tone is gone now, "Why do Gryffindors always think they need to rescue everybody?"

"But the Gryffindors were throwing things at you!" Lily protests, confused by these frequent house distinctions, "The whole class was."

"Doesn't matter," he says, even though they both know it does. "I... why are you bothering me?"

"Am I bothering you?" He seems to find it funny that she's only just considered this, though he doesn't laugh. "I'm sorry," she says sincerely, bowing a little, books clutched to her chest, backing away. She smiles again, "I hope you have a nice rest-of-the-day!" Then she's off, sort of skipping, tripping over her robes.

"Wait... Lily!" Her surprise is reflected in Snape's eyes as she turns around. He coughs. "My name is Severus."

"Severus Snape," Lily tries, nodding her approval. "Please don't let them bother you, Severus. I'll see you in Potions!"

And Severus Snape stands there, puzzled, watching her flit off like some crazy butterfly, trying to make himself feel annoyed.