Sorry it's been a bit more than a week; I was down in Salamanca visiting my cousins and all they have is dial-up. (Besides, the hard copy of this story is on my computer up here in Gijon.) This coming week we're going back to England, but hopefully I'll get Act III uploaded on time, anyway.
Thanks so much to my reviewers! I'm glad you like the story; keep reading and reviewing:)
So, without further ado...
In his fifth year, Severus loved her.
He had thus far had no romantic attachments at Hogwarts – not that any girls were mildly attracted to him, anyway – and he had lately been feeling very… restless. In Arithmancy one morning, he watched Lily Evans enter the room, no longer the skinny first-year she had once been but now a slim teenager. Her long red hair hung to her shoulders, and her green eyes were as bright as ever. Severus felt a burst of lust somewhere below his stomach as he watched her casually take her seat and swiftly turn down Potter, who had just asked her out for the umpteenth time.
She's Muggle-born, he reminded himself abruptly. I'm in Slytherin, and she's Muggle-born… it's not possible, it can't be…
But it is, a smaller part of him piped up. After all, she's the smartest witch in her year, even if she is Muggle-born… doesn't that count for something? And then, Does purity of blood really matter?
Of course it does! Severus reminded himself abruptly. I am the Half-Blood Prince! What would I be if not that? Of course it matters, it has always mattered, people wouldn't be half they could be without their families… family is important, it always has been… it defines us.
What about people who resist their families? that smaller part of him persisted. What about Sirius Black, for example?
Look what's happened to him! He's an all-around prat and arrogant arsehole!
But he's pure-blood!
Severus's greater half seemed to frown in contemplation. Perhaps… perhaps Muggle-borns can be just as great as pure-bloods… but blood should still count for something, shouldn't it?
Yes, it should.
His inner turmoil resolved, Severus sat back to watch Lily Evans, who had pulled out her work now and was looking over it briefly. Muggle-borns can be just as great as pure-bloods, but blood still counts for something. That was a perfect philosophy, he thought wryly. Those from royally ancient families were not necessarily above the others in the long run, but they still deserved the advantage of their heritage. Why shouldn't he, then, court Lily Evans?
As if she'd go for you! a furious voice in his head shouted. Don't start dreaming, Severus!
It was true, he thought miserably… or was it? After all, she hated James Potter with a passion… couldn't she possibly love the enemy of James Potter with an equal passion? My enemy's enemy is my… lover?
Stop it; it's not going to work out, his conscious pestered, and it would have rolled its eyes had it had any.
And Snape accepted this fact, for the moment. But something changed in that moment: he was no longer remotely comfortable around Lily Evans. It was a combination of immaturity around girls and insecurity in general. That very day in the hall, Lily spoke up in his defense when Potter tried to hex him. A teacher soon arrived, and Severus stalked off with boils on his arms, Lily hurrying after him.
"I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to hex him back," she said, in an attempt at humour.
Severus turned to look at her, clutching his arms, as they were beginning to sting quite painfully. Her greens eyes were wide in sympathy, and her soft hair hung just over her shoulders in two bunches. "I–" Severus began, but found himself at a loss for words. "I don't need your help, Mudblood," he snapped, turning and hurrying away.
Lily gasped as if slapped, and Severus felt himself groan inwardly: he had honestly not intended to hurt her feelings; he was just immature in the ways of flirting, and could not help but insult the object of his desire. Really, he was a like a ten-year-old when it came to male-female interactions.
It didn't stop her from helping him, though, and every time she supported him against Potter despite his unrestrained rudeness, he convinced himself that it was because she knew that he wasn't serious. She was flirting back, in her own way, he told himself at night when he lay in his four-poster with his hand between his legs. She did not mind if he pretended to be mean to her; she wanted to support him no matter what. Deep down. Severus felt, she loved him as much as he loved her.
In the meantime, he wanted to find out where Potter and his little gang were sneaking around to every month; if it was something illegal… ooh, he would have their arses expelled faster than they could apologise for their crap treatment of him over the last four and a half years! One evening he overheard Black chatting with Pettigrew in the foyer.
"…Stupid Snivellus; if he just realised all he has to do is prod that one big knob on the Womping Willow with a stick to go down after Moony…"
Severus did not let on that he had heard; no, that would have given the game away. He was nearly frantic with the excitement that Black had let this information slip. He was so overwhelmed that he did not for a moment consider that Black had done so intentionally.
Later that night he was outside on the grounds, finding a long stick, prodding various knots on the Womping Willow, and barely sustaining a triumphant laugh as the tree suddenly froze. In a flash he was sliding inside, finding himself in a long, uneven passageway, running down it, nearly tripping –
He heard hurried footsteps come up behind him, and turning saw Potter, sprinting and out of breath, rounding the bend and reaching for him. "Sniv – Snape! Don't – Moony – you can't – STOP!" He grabbed Severus's arm and tried to yank him back, but Severus was not to be beaten by James Potter.
"Let go of me, Potter!" he shouted, hitting him with both hands and dragging him along in an attempt to get away.
A sudden sound came from the end of the tunnel, and turning, Severus caught sight of the last thing he had expected: a werewolf, leaping out of a trap door and onto the dirt floor. Barely ten metres away, a werewolf. Lupin.
He was frozen in fear for a moment, realising in a jolt that Black had just been having him on, had tricked him into coming here in the hope that he would be killed –
Potter, however, had not frozen up, and he yanked Severus with him, faster than either of them had ever run before, back up the crooked tunnel and out of the Womping Willow while a werewolf howled at their heels.
Far later that night, after Dumbledore had forbidden Severus from telling anybody what he had seen, and after Black had nearly been expelled for his actions, Severus sat down on his bed, limp with fury. That goddamn Potter, that goddamn Black, that goddamn Lupin, that goddamn Pettigrew… the four of them, thinking they had any right to kill him, any right to fucking end his life. And that accursed Potter, chickening out at his own game, coming to "rescue" Severus and leaving him in his fucking debt.
It was the worst night of Severus's life.
The worst experience of his life thus far, however, was soon to come. It arrived in the afternoon following their last O.W.L., Defense Against the Dark Arts.
He had been down on the lawn, reviewing his test paper feverishly, kicking himself inwardly whenever he realised that he had not said as much as he could have on certain questions. Potter and Black noticed him at once; Severus whipped out his wand, preparing to defend himself against the no-good attempted murderers, but after a brief scirmish Potter had him upside down in the air, trapped by his own bloody spell. Lily Evans, who he had seen earlier sitting by the lake, had stormed over to them and now continued her chastising.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. Potter and Black eyed it warily. Severus tried not to look at her; she was so pretty when she got riled up, and he did not want any of them to notice if he started staring at her.
"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said Potter earnestly.
"Take the curse off him, then!"
Potter sighed deeply, then turned to Severus and muttered the countercurse.
"There you go," he said, as Severus struggled to his feet again, "you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus – "
"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" The words were out before he could help himself. But then, that was the way it always was: Severus was too insecure about girls, and the only way for him to comfortably interact with them was by acting indifferent. It was a façade he got caught up in and was virtually incapable of breaking.
Lily blinked, "Fine," she said coolly, "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."
Severus felt a surge of sorrow deep in the pit of his stomach. Why had she said that? Did she really, honestly believe that he loathed her? Couldn't she tell that he wasn't serious; that when he called her "Mudblood," it was only because he was not confident enough to say anything else? Worse – did she hate him for it?
"Apologise to Evans!" Potter roared at Severus, his wand pointed threateningly at him.
Snape sneered at Potter. As if he could possibly apologise! The only way he could manage it would be to sound ridiculously sarcastic; he wasn't secure enough to do it any other way… if he were too sincere, what would Lily think? Would she realise, finally, what Severus had been unable to confess to her for so long?
But of course he would not apologise, even if he could; as if he would give that blasted Potter the satisfaction of ordering him around!
"I don't want you to make him apologise," Lily shouted, rounding on Potter. "You're as bad as he is …" Severus was insulted, but at the same time strangely elated. Take that, Potter! he though vindictively. If I can't have her, at least you can't, either!
"What?" yelped Potter. "I'd NEVER call you a – you-know-what!"
"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."
Severus barely stifled a triumphant smile.
Lily turned on her heel and hurried away.
"Evans!" Potter shouted after her, "Hey, EVANS!"
But she didn't look back.
Fuck you, Potter, Severus thought desperately. Fuck you. He shifted his eyes slightly to watch Lily storm away across the lawn, her thickauburn hair swishing behind her.
"What is it with her?" said Potter, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.
What do you think, dipshit? Severus thought derisively. Maybe she knows that you're a conceited arsehole who –
"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," said Black, interrupting Severus's reverie.
"Right," said Potter, who looked furious now, "right – "
There was another flash of light, and Severus was once again hanging upside down in the air.
What the fuck? Severus thought. Using my own spells against me, yet again? The filthy, cowardly, pathetic –
"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"
Severus paled. No, they wouldn't… that was going beyond vindictive; that was pure cruelty! he thought desperately. But then… these were people who had attempted to murder him… on second thought, he certainly wouldn't put mere embarrassment past them…
His thoughts shifted to Lily. What would she think, what would her reaction be if she turned around halfway up the lawn to see him, pant-less in midair?
It looked as if Severus were about to find out. Potter gave a flick of his wand and he felt a slight breeze down there as people all around him gave cries of protest – but not with regard to protecting Severus's feeling; oh, no, they just didn't want to see him naked, for the love of God!
"Take pity on our eyes, James!"
"Ah! James, you think we want to see that?"
Black was laughing, Pettigrew was giggling, and Potter was smirking triumphantly. Severus glared at them from where he hung, upside down and completely helpless. Burn in hell, Potter, he thought quietly.
He could feel his face turning red as all the blood rushed downward. Then Lupin stood up and came over to his friends.
Severus hated Lupin. He always put up a sort of fake effort to make his friends stop their harassment of others, but if he had really wanted to act like a good person, Severus had always figured, he wouldn't hang around with jerks like Black and Potter in the first place. Also, there was the fact that Lupin had nearly turned Severus into a werewolf. Oh, he hated him, alright.
"Let him down, Prongs," Lupin pestered airily, avoiding looking at Severus too closely. "Come on… teacher's going to be coming down soon…"
Potter smiled at Lupin pleasantly and turned back to Severus. All around, people were covering their eyes exaggeratedly or else gawking openly. Severus wished this were a dream… or, rather, a nightmare. Glancing around wildly, he was relieved, at the very least, that Lily Evans was nowhere in sight.
"Well, I'd say this is enough for now, Snivelly," said Potter jovially. With another flick of his wand, Severus fell to the ground, face-first. As he struggled to pull his robes down, he heard Potter mutter a full body-bind curse. So… they'd just leave him to lie here helplessly, would they, while they all went up to the castle and had dinner?
"See you around, Snivelly!" Black called harshly, turning away from Severus's frozen form to put his arm around some girl, who was laughing so hard her face was beginning to turn red.
The bitch, Snape thought to himself.
Now they were leaving, up along the lawn, Potter and Black and Lupin and Pettigrew and the laughing girl, and others were following them, eager to relax and have a lovely end-of-exams feast.
Severus watched them, following them with his eyes. He truly hated Potter, and all of his cockiness and popularity and blatant, unmistakable cruelty. He hated Black and Pettigrew and Lupin and the laughing girl, and everyone else who was now making their way up to the Great Hall.
"In a bit of a spot, Sev?" he heard a voice say, and glanced to the right to find Bellatrix Black, Sirius Black's older cousin, standing over him with her friend Rosalind Douglass.
As he was still under the effects of the body-bind curse, Severus could not utter a response.
Bellatrix muttered the countercurse and helped him to his feet.
"My cousin is an arsehole," she said darkly. "He and all of his damn friends."
Severus smiled shakily. Bella was a kind girl – to her, admittance into Slytherin qualified a person as worthy of friendship – and very pretty, but Severus always felt a bit left out around her, for he knew that she did not really consider him to be anything more than a classmate.
"Don't stress over Potter, Severus," Rosalind, a stockier girl with a strong jaw and curly dark hair, assured him calmly. "He'll get what's coming to him, you mark my words."
Then they were off across the darkening lawn toward the castle, Severus trailing a little bit behind, and dreading the hundreds of eyes that would await him upon their entrance of the Great Hall.
About half of the school looked over, but it was Lily Evans who caught Severus's eye, her own green eyes awash with pity for him. He sneered at her despite himself, persisting with that indestructible façade. Lily looked away quickly.
I love you, Severus thought desperately, and you know it. But at this point, he wasn't sure if she really did.
Dialogue (in that last part) taken from "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix," British version, pg. something to something (I don't have the book with me right now and I don't feel like checking).
The first line of Act III:
In his sixth year, Severus kissed her.
