See first chapter for all disclaimers.
Professor Eberwulf is mine, as are Eliza and Cordelia.
AN: I am going to be nice and not say a thing about the election. Instead, I am offering this chapter as a consolation prize to you Democrats, because I feel sorry for you.
chapter three
The first Gryffindor-Slytherin class came on Friday morning. Professor Eberwulf, an African potions Master with a powerful voice and a knack for keeping the class from getting out of hand even on the worst days, split them into pairs to work on brewing a thickening solution. Lily paired with Cordelia and their sorry efforts combined produced a solution that solidified like concrete in their cauldron. Lily would have liked to have been able to say that this was a result from Cordelia's not dicing the slugs precisely enough, but she knew that the mistake was mainly hers. The thickening solution had to be kept above the boiling point until the powdered shell was added. The shell stabilized it and keeps it from hardening. Once the shell was added, the solution may have been brought down from boiling without threat of it setting. Either she hadn't given it enough flame or the powdered shell wasn't added at the right moment.
Professor Eberwulf sighed in exasperation when he came by to note their progress and discovered that the thickening solution had thickened right to the sides of the cauldron.
"You hardly need me to tell you that this is very bad work, girls," he said. "So, let us rather devote a moment to deciding just what went wrong here?"
Lily told him what she had surmised.
"Correct," the professor said. "The slugs had nothing to do with it, though that would account for the reddish tinge."
Lily gave a small sigh.
The professor patted her on the shoulder. "Girls, your new assignment is to clean out this cauldron, preferably before the end of class, and I am going to have to subtract ten points from Gryffindor for this. Also, Miss Evans, I would like to have a word with you after class."
"Yes, sir," Lily sighed, and they toted their cauldron off to the sinks to start chipping out the mess inside.
"Sorry, Cordelia," Lily muttered above the sound of running water and clunking pewter.
"It's okay," said Cordelia, but she didn't sound very happy. "Everyone has their bad days."
"Well, yeah, but how could I have made such a dumb mistake? Sloppy. I was just sloppy. I wasn't paying enough attention." She scraped harder at the inside of the cauldron. "Ugh."
At that moment, there was a shriek from the other side of the classroom. Both girls whirled around to see Severus Snape leap away from his cauldron just as it exploded, raining bits of pewter and sloshy potion all over the class.
"Oh my god," Cordelia gasped. "That I would live to see the day that Snape exploded his cauldron!" She began to laugh.
But Snape had leapt to his feet and was already pointing a finger at Sirius Black, howling accusations. "He threw a firecracker in my cauldron!" he shouted.
Sirius's blue eyes went innocently wide. "Are you suggesting—"
"BLACK! The potion was just sitting there, finished, waiting to be bottled! Thickening solutions do not just spontaneously combust!"
"Mister Snape," Eberwulf said, hastily stepping between the boys, who had somehow gravitated together in the centre of the room; "calm yourself." To the class he called, "Is everyone all right?" Yes, everyone was fine; Eliza had gotten hit with a bit of flying cauldron but she was all right, it was just a bump. "Good. Mister Snape, go clean yourself up. Mister Black, don't pull that innocent act with me; mop up this mess and see me after class."
Lily hastily turned back to chipping out the solidified potion as Snape stalked over, picking splinters of pewter out of his robes and scowling furiously. At his ruined table, Sirius was cheerfully magicking away the mess he had created; at the other end of the room, she could hear James Potter laughing with Peter. She gritted her teeth.
At the sink at the end, Snape was washing his hands and his face. Cordelia leaned towards Lily and muttered, "Poor Sirius, eh?"
Lily stared at her friend. "Are you crazy? He threw the firecracker; he deserves whatever Eberwulf has in store for him."
Cordelia snorted. "Did it ever occur to you that Snape might be lying?"
"I highly doubt that Snape would have blown up his cauldron himself, let alone pin it on Sirius."
"Oh, come on."
"Cordelia, I saw him! He and Wilkes had already finished their potion around the time we mucked up ours! He was packing away his potions things, waiting it for it to cool so he could bottle it."
Cordelia sniffed. "Hmph. If you'd been paying as much attention to our potion as you were to Snape, it probably wouldn't have turned into concrete."
Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Cordelia. He was sitting right in front of us; I didn't exactly have to look too far to see—"
Cordelia hushed her. "Shh, he's coming over—hello, Snape!"
Snape faltered a step as he passed behind them, apparently heading for the paper towels.
"Great job on your thickening solution, Snape," Cordelia smirked.
"That's some pretty smart talk, coming from someone who's going to have to grind their potion into powder before they can bottle it," Snape growled.
"Yeah, well, at least I didn't have a screaming fit in front of the whole class," Cordelia retorted.
"Cordelia!" Lily hissed, eying Snape nervously.
Snape's eyes glittered. "Are you looking for a few extra appendages, Bridges?"
Cordelia whirled to face the classroom and called plaintively, "Professor Eberwulf, Snape's harassing me!"
"Cordelia!" Lily said hotly. "Professor, it was provoked."
"Snape, if you've finished over there, kindly return to your seat," the professor directed sternly. "And girls, please finish cleaning that cauldron in silence."
Snape stalked back to his seat, sparing neither girl another glance. Cordelia turned to stare at Lily, mouth agape. Lily couldn't do anything but shrug helplessly and return to scrubbing the inside of the cauldron.
They finished cleaning out the cauldron just as the bell rang, and as the rest of the class headed out the door Lily went up to Professor Eberwulf's desk, bag of books in hand.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Ah, Miss Evans—yes, just a moment of your time." He cleaned a pen nib with his handkerchief as he spoke. "I'm not going to scold you for your poor work today; you've always been a fairly good student, and these things do happen. However, that is not to say that your brewing skills leave nothing to be desired; you are a decent brewer but you have room for improvement."
Lily studied a clay paperweight on the desk in front of her.
"At the moment you are achieving passing grades in Potions. If you are interested in improving those grades, though, I suggest that you seek out the help of a fellow student in your spare time. I could put a word in for you with Patricia Carson – she is a sixth-former in Ravenclaw, I believe. Or you could go to one of your prefects." He puffed on the brass nib and polished it against his robes. "I am more than aware of the rivalries between your two houses, but if you could possibly stand it, Mister Snape could teach you quite a bit."
There was a snort of laughter from across the classroom. Lily jumped.
"Yes, Mister Black, I am aware that you are still there," Eberwulf said dryly, "and I'd thank you to keep your enlightening observations to yourself in the future." He turned back to Lily. "In any case, these are just suggestions, and you needn't worry about supplementary lessons if you don't care to. Like I said, your Potions grade has always exceeded the passing mark."
"I'll think about it, sir," Lily said, though she was doubtful about the case. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure. You'd better run along now; here's a pass explaining to Professor Kettleburn why you were delayed."
Lily took the slip of parchment and scurried off, leaving Sirius behind to whatever it was that awaited him. She hoped it was detention in the hospital wing, cleaning out bedpans. It would serve him right.
Care of Magical Creatures was an elective she shared with most of the Gryffindor students in her year. The class was never dull, which accounted for the high attendance rate; while he was more than competent as a teacher, Professor Kettleburn rarely failed to injure himself in the line of duty.
Today they were studying bugbears. The gamekeeper, a huge man named Hagrid, had trapped one in the Forbidden Forest and had it penned up near the cabin that rested on the edge of the woods. It was the size of a small cow and covered in thick, leaf- and twig-entangled black hair, and it growled as it hungrily paced its paddock.
"The bugbear," Kettleburn was saying, "often misleadingly called the bloodsucking bugbear, is most commonly found in northern Germany and Poland. It is omnivorous, feeding on roots and berries and small animals such as chickens and rabbits. It has a fierce temper, and when threatened, it is more than capable of defending itself. Note the elongated canines and the claws—well, you can't actually see them because of the fur…."
"A sickle says he goes in there to get a better look at those claws," a voice in her ear said quietly. Lily jumped.
"Hush, Potter, I'm trying to listen."
"What did Eberwulf have to say?" James continued, as if he hadn't heard her.
"That's none of your business, now, isn't it," Lily said, and moved away from him. He followed her, predictably, rumpling his hair almost unconsciously.
"He didn't give you detention, did he?" asked James.
"Of course not," Lily snapped.
"Nah," said another voice, and Lily whirled around to see Sirius edging towards them, tie rumpled and books slung over his shoulder; "he told her to go ask Snivellus for help with potions."
"Shut up, Black," Lily muttered, but it was too late.
"Snape?" James laughed, a little too loudly. "Why on earth—"
"Is there a problem, Mister Potter?" Kettleburn called from the edge of the paddock.
"No, sir," James called back cheerfully.
Kettleburn returned to the lesson, and James returned to pestering Lily. "Snape?" he repeated. "Don't tell me you're actually going to—"
"James, be quiet," Lily hissed, aware of the odd looks the other Gryffindors were shooting back their way. "I told you it's none of your business."
"I always thought you were fair at potions," James said.
"It was a suggestion, Potter; Professor Eberwulf merely recommended that I go talk with a more advanced student if I wanted to improve a little bit—"
"Cheerful chat that'd be," Sirius said dryly. "I can see it now. 'Oy, Snape, a little help with potions?' 'Bugger off!' Yeah, really constructive." He chuckled.
"You know, Sirius, there are some of us who possess a little more finesse than that," Lily snarled.
"And unfortunately, dear Snivellus is not one of them," Sirius said sweetly.
Lily ground her teeth and tried not to lash out. Generally she put up with the boys, because they could be quite charming and kind when the urge took them, but at times like these she honestly wished she had never resigned herself to the constraints of friendship with them. "You aren't winning yourself any points with this, Black," she hissed under her breath. "Immaturity never does. And you know what? I have half a mind to go speak to him at lunch!"
Sirius laughed quietly. "I'd like to see that," he said. "I'd like to see the look on his face."
"What's going on?"
Remus had surreptitiously wandered over, and now he had joined the conversation. Lily groaned. "It's nothing, Remus," she said. "These idiots are—"
"Eberwulf is suggesting she and Snape become study partners, or some such rot," Potter interrupted with a snort. "We were just discussing the ridiculousness of the idea."
"Shut up, Potter!"
"Miss Evans, WHAT is going on back there?" Kettleburn's voice rang out for the second time, sounding highly irritated.
"We were just discussing some of the more unusual magical aspects of the bloodsucking bugbear," Sirius called back cheerfully.
"Rot, Mister Black," Kettleburn barked, forcing Lily to cover her mouth to hide a huge grin. "I just finished explaining that the bugbear has no unusual magical aspects. Five points from Gryffindor, and see me after class."
"Oh, bugger," Sirius grumbled.
The rest of the class was uneventful. The interruptions must have broken Kettleburn's concentration, and for once they left the class without having seen any bloodshed. In the Great Hall, Lily irritably picked at her food, wondering whether she could get away with putting frogspawn in Sirius and James's beds. Probably not.
To her credit, Lily didn't even start when the sack of books slammed unceremoniously down on the bench beside her. She didn't turn to regard Sirius as he plopped down beside her and dragged a platter of sandwiches across the table. "Merlin, I'm starving," he groaned.
"I don't doubt it," Lily said icily, refusing to look at him. "All that effort of disrupting class probably worked up quite an appetite."
"Oh, absolutely," Sirius said, and chomped into a sandwich.
"You're despicable," Lily said.
"Thank you," said Sirius, speaking around the wad of turkey and cheese in his mouth. Lily made a disgusted noise and scooted further down the bench, dragging her plate and books with her. He followed her as if it was all routine.
"Leave me alone, Black."
"Have you talked to Snivellus yet?" Sirius smirked.
"I mean it, Sirius."
"What a coincidence! So do I."
"I hope Professor Eberwulf gave you a really vile detention," Lily growled.
"Alphabetizing cures in the infirmary, actually, but you didn't answer my question," Sirius said.
Lily ground her teeth. "I am warning you, Black…."
"You haven't talked to him, have you?" Sirius grinned.
Lily stood up. "See you later, Black," she said softly, and, hefting her book bag over her shoulder, she strode out of the Great Hall. She could hear Sirius giggling to himself over his turkey and cheese.
Lily fumed, but inwardly there was a small part of her that was smirking in an extremely self-satisfied way. Sirius Black had just sealed the deal; there was no way on earth that she was not going to finagle Snape into at least talking about helping her with potions, not after that little scene. If it came down to slipping a persuasion potion into Snape's evening pumpkin juice to get him to cooperate, she'd do it. Lily refused to walk around feeling like Sirius Black had bested her.
So, let him giggle. There was plenty of time for him to get his comeuppance.
That afternoon, after lessons were finished, Lily went to the library.
She did intend to work on the various assignments she had spread out over one of the tables, but mostly they were just there as an excuse to sit and wait for Snape to show up. She couldn't imagine where else he might end up at on a Friday evening, other than perhaps the Quidditch field, but she knew for a fact that the boys had planned on a bit of flying and she highly doubted Snape would be at all willing to share a field with them. So, other than the dungeon labs, the library seemed like it would be the first place Snape would head once lessons were over.
But as she sat there, ostensibly studying and wrapping up her assignments one by one as she waited, it became apparent to her that Snape wasn't going to show up. Perhaps he was down in the dungeons; perhaps he had found a different place altogether to lurk during his free time; whatever the case, the fact remained that the only other people passing through the library were a gaggle of studious upper-former Ravenclaws and what looked like some second-year Hufflepuff girls hopefully nosing around the Divination section.
And it was close to dinnertime. Lily shut her book with a sigh and began packing her parchments and texts and writing things into her leather satchel. Thoughtfully, she climbed back up to Gryffindor tower to put her things in her dormitory; then she wandered back down, exchanged a few polite words with the Fat Lady and eventually found her way to the Great Hall.
She ate her dinner quickly, aware of Sirius (whom she had purposefully sat down at the other end of the table to avoid) smirking at her from time to time. Soup bowl empty, she dashed back up to Gryffindor tower to finish the rest of her assignments.
She wasn't very disappointed at failing to locate Snape; tomorrow was the weekend, after all, which meant she had two full days to track him down. He couldn't hide forever.
Saturday was spent wandering around the castle and the grounds, in search of the elusive Slytherin. It was the perfect day for walking; it was warm, but not overly so, and the sky was decorated with billowing white cumulus clouds that warned of a storm to come but were pleasant to watch in the meantime. Eventually, Lily once again adjourned from her search and set out merely to enjoy the day. She went to Master Pruidwick, the flying instructor, and he gave her permission to borrow one of the school brooms.
Lily was no natural when it came to flying, and even if she had wanted to, the school broom couldn't have done better than fifty, but the sheer alien feeling of flight and the freedom of complete mobility was all she wanted. Things looked so different from atop a broomstick, so glorious and majestic and idyllic and it made her wish she had been born winged. She spent the afternoon in that way, soaring around the school until she began to shiver from the chill. She flew back to the Quidditch pitch, put the broom away, and returned to the school, thoroughly content and almost serene. She could almost ignore James and Sirius wreaking havoc in the common room.
The next morning she got caught up in trying to figure out how to get her cassette player to run off magic. She made what she felt were some definite steps in the right direction, but until she had a word with Professor Flitwick about some reading material she doubted she'd get much further. Until lunch, she quietly contented herself with flipping through the pages of various charm texts and sound manuals she had purchased over the holiday, highlighting passages she found might be useful and making notes on a pile of cards next to her.
Thus, it wasn't until Sunday evening that she finally caught up with Snape. She went down to dinner with a book—yet another relevant charms text—and, while she munched on her shepherd's pie, she happened to glance up from her book and saw him, sitting over at the Slytherin table by himself, wolfing down his dinner.
Keeping a surreptitious eye on him, Lily turned back to her own meal. It wasn't long before Snape finished and got up to walk out of the hall. Lily waited just until he had passed through the open double-doors before pushing her plate away and standing.
"Not hungry?" Eliza, sitting next to her, asked.
"I don't really care for shepherd's pie," Lily confessed, and left hastily before any other questions could be directed at her.
The corridor outside the hall was empty, but Lily could hear quick footsteps echoing from the passageway down the right. She sped to a quick jog to catch up.
She rounded the corner and saw him, walking briskly in that odd way of his, with his head down and his shoulders hunched. Tucking her book beneath her arm, she called out softly, "Snape!"
He reacted as if he had been expecting an attack: he spun around, and he had drawn his wand from his sleeve almost before she could blink. Startled, she flung her arms up in what she hoped was a non-violent gesture. Her book clattered to the floor. "No, wait!"
"Evans." His voice, though soft, carried well enough across the hall, tinged with suspicion and wariness.
"Snape," Lily repeated weakly. "Will you put your wand down? I – I just wanted a word."
Severus Snape regarded her with narrowed eyes. "What could you possibly have to say to me that would in any way entice me to lower my defences, Evans?" he asked coldly.
Lily forced herself to relax. "I'm not going to – hex you, or anything," she said, trying to sound harmless and assuring.
"Because, of course," said Snape, "it is impossible to reach for a wand when your elbows are bound to your forehead."
Lily hadn't heard of such a curse, but she figured if there were one, Snape would know it. "Please," she said, "please, I just want to talk with you a moment. I promise – no tricks." She spread her hands out to the sides. "Just for a moment."
Snape's upper lip curled, but at last he lowered his wand arm. Lily breathed a sigh of mixed relief and annoyance and wondered whether this was actually worth the trouble she was going to. "Thank you. I – actually, I've been trying to find you since Friday – " Snape scoffed, but didn't say anything, so she continued: "…but you aren't the easiest person to find. I – um – I was actually wanting to talk to you about potions."
Was it her imagination, or did Snape seem to perk up just the tiniest fraction at that? "Continue," he said, and the tone with which he spoke it wouldn't have been diminished in effect by an imperious wave of his hand.
"Yes. Right. Uh."
"Sometime this year," Snape growled.
Lily, struck by sudden, vicious inspiration, smiled her sweetest, most guileless smile. "Of course," she said, in tones as pleasant and sincere as if she were speaking to a dearly loved one. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in helping me a bit with potions."
Snape's narrow, beetle-black eyes widened a fraction of an inch. "Absolutely not!"
Lily let a disappointed expression cross her features. She'd asked him, and he had refused, quite emphatically so; Sirius hadn't said anything about getting him to agree to help her. Now, though, if she was so inclined, she could walk up to Black, Sneakoscope in hand, and tell him quite truthfully that she'd asked and been turned down.
So she gave a resigned little shrug and turned to go.
"Wait."
Lily stopped, surprised and a little confused. When she looked over her shoulder, he was stepping towards her, his shoes clopping loudly against the flagstone.
"You dropped your book."
Lily looked down and saw her book of charms still laying on the floor. There wasn't anything shocking about that; what was shocking, however, was that Snape had pointed it out, and that he didn't halt in his stride towards her as she knelt to retrieve the text. When she had returned to her feet, he was standing right in front of her, just feet away, his eyes glittering strangely. "Er… thank you," she muttered, her voice tapering off to silence in her uncertainty.
"What kind of help?" Snape inquired.
Lily blinked.
"It's not a terribly complex question," Snape said. "Don't make me repeat myself."
"I – just – it's not very – process," Lily babbled. "Process. I'm fair with theory and the like but I'm weak with the actual process. I'm – sloppy."
Snape's eyebrows arched. "And why, exactly," Snape said softly, "are you asking me for help with this?"
Lily bit her lip. Had she anticipated that Snape might actually condescend to lend her a hand, she would have thought up a plausible excuse beforehand, something he might actually believe. As it was…. "Because you're the best," she said, settling for the relative truth.
Snape snorted. "You expect me to believe you?" said Snape. "Not that I need reassuring that my skill at brewing potions is superior to the norm, far from it; but it is ludicrous that you should think I'm so naïve that I'd trust your motives are entirely innocent." He paused, as if for effect.
"I'm not sure I follow you," Lily said frostily.
Snape rolled his eyes. "You're being deliberately obtuse. You honestly can't be that stupid; I've seen you at work, and I've heard more than a few complaints from…" He seemed to change his mind in the middle of his sentence, and he moved onto the next one with hardly a pause to indicate the backtracking. "Potter put you up to this, didn't he?"
Lily's eyebrows shot straight up. "He most certainly did not!" she said. "What makes you think I'd willingly get myself involved with his nefarious little schemes?" Lily felt guilty not mentioning the fact that it had been Black, not Potter, who had 'put her up to this'. But she felt that all parties would benefit without her divulging this information.
Snape regarded her callously for a moment, but then he relaxed a fraction and crossed his arms over his chest. "All right," he conceded. "I'll accept that." His voice lowered to a soft mutter: "I imagine that no one else, short of Sirius Intractable Black, would be brash and brainless enough to try anything more offensive than bewitching my textbooks shut." Louder, he repeated, "All right. You want help."
Lily tried a nod, but he was still speaking.
"…That I can do. It will cost you, however."
Lily stiffened. "Cost me what, exactly?"
Snape gave a strange, one-shouldered shrug. "That point is up for debate."
Lily opened her mouth to speak, but Snape shook his head. "The dinner hour's almost over," he said. "And we've loitered far too long in this corridor. And I expect that we couldn't do wrong to think about this conversation before actually having it."
That Lily could agree with. She nodded. "Of course."
"Tomorrow," he said. "Two and a half hours after classes. You won't be busy?"
Lily shook her head, trying not to succumb to the dazed feeling that was threatening to overtake her. "No, I'm free."
"The library, then."
"Yes. The library. Of course. I'll see you then."
"No doubt before, as we do have an Arithmancy class tomorrow morning."
"Oh. Right."
Snape spared her one final, inscrutable look before turning and striding away down the corridor.
Lily shook her head to clear it.
She hadn't anticipated anything of that sort to happen. All she'd wanted – all she'd expected was to ask him whether he'd be interested in tutoring her, to be refused in turn, and then to dash off to Sirius and try to salvage what little pride she had left.
That last thought stung angrily, and as she turned her charms book over in her hands she grinned. Things hadn't gone so badly after all. Now, along with really being able to reassure herself that she wasn't some cowardly little thing who would bow to lick Sirius Black's smug and smirking boots and be happy about it, she would get a chance to perfect her potions-brewing technique, guided by a prodigy, no less. She tucked her book beneath her arm again and set off in the opposite direction for Gryffindor Tower, feeling rather self-satisfied.
After Charms the next morning, Lily stayed behind for a moment to ask Flitwick about some conversion spells. Flitwick happily recommended her several different books, most of which could be found in the school library, and the remaining ones could be purchased at Flourish and Blott's for a reasonable price. Lily thanked him and left for Arithmancy. Once again, she was paired with Auster Wilkes, who made taking notes as difficult as possible by casting a spiteful little hex on her quill that caused it to dry up whenever she tried to put it to parchment. Lily solved this problem by getting a normal Muggle pencil out of her bag and ignoring him until it was time to head to Transfiguration.
After a particularly dull Herbology session, Lily hiked back to the castle to clean up, wondering what she could offer to Snape in exchange for help with potions. She had pondered this for some time the night before and hadn't come up with anything very helpful. If she had any clue as to what Snape himself had in mind, she might have had better luck, but she doubted it. She didn't have much to give.
Her allowance for the year was slim as it was, and what she had wouldn't make up half of a decent payment. She supposed she could write to her mother and father, but that was an iffy idea. The Evanses' budget had been tight since Father lost his job the previous year. It had been difficult enough getting Lily's school books, even when purchasing the majority of them second-hand, and Lily didn't have much of an inclination to guilt her parents into sending her money so she could show up Sirius Black.
She could offer miscellaneous favours, but that thought made her uncomfortable, as there was no fair way to judge how many she owed, and the thought of owing a Slytherin – or anyone, for that matter – unidentified, indefinite favours did not appeal to her.
The ideal exchange, of course, would be to lend Snape a hand with his own studies. However, the only area Lily really excelled at was Charms, and she wasn't sure whether Snape had any particular difficulty in that subject.
The fanciful part of her briefly imagined herself as Snape's saviour, drawing him up out of the pit of snakes he'd fallen into, providing the friendship and good counsel that he had obviously been denied… but she repressed a shudder and a laugh at this thought. Snape didn't need saving. He could take care of himself, as he'd proved on countless occasions when he'd clashed with the boys. He seemed entirely self-sufficient.
Which was the problem. What would he want that she could possibly give?
Perhaps, Lily thought as she scrubbed dirt out from under her fingernails, perhaps Snape will have thought up something reasonable. If she had thought about it, she would have wondered why she was expecting Snape to be reasonable, of all things, but she left the lavatory whistling through her teeth.
He showed up at six-thirty, just when everyone else had finally worked their way to the Great Hall for dinner, leaving the library – and most of the castle – all but deserted. Lily looked up from one of the books Flitwick had recommended to see him slip silently through the library doors, slim as an evening shadow and almost as silent. He stalked across the room, passing up her and her chosen table entirely as if she was invisible. With a tolerant sigh, she got up, gathered her few things together and followed him to the back of room, out of sight of the main doors, where the tables and benches were replaced by creaky old armchairs that were almost too dusty for comfort.
"Don't want to be overheard, eh?" Lily said as she settled herself into a chair that faced him.
"Do you?" Snape retorted.
"Good point," Lily said. "No, I don't."
Snape responded with a judiciously curt nod. "Right. To business." And he folded his hands expectantly.
Lily cleared her throat. "Well," she said, "I gave some thought as to what I could offer to you – as a fair trade for your… expertise. And I found myself, ah, rather at a loss."
Snape's lip began to curl, so she hurried ahead. "I don't have much money, but – "
"No," Snape said immediately. "I don't want that."
Lily mentally stumbled. "Ah – beg pardon?"
"You heard me."
Lily hesitated. "Right. Right, I did. Um. I… I was really hoping you'd had some idea yourself… what you think would be… acceptable. I mean, I could," she went on hastily as she saw his expression darken, "I could think of something else, I'm sure. Favours…."
Snape waved his hand irritable, as if brushing away a fly. "No," he snapped. "No, no. I had in mind more of an academic reimbursement. None of your petty favours, if you please."
Lily's ears had perked up hopefully, despite his prickly tone. "What kind of 'academic reimbursement'?"
Snape eyed her for a moment. Lily could have sworn he looked almost apprehensive, though that glitter in his eyes could have meant almost anything. "How adequate are you at transfiguration?" he asked at length.
Lily's heart sank in disappointment, but almost at the same time it rose, swelling with the bloom of an idea. She was passable when it came to transfiguration; she wasn't anything spectacular, though. "Fairly good," she said truthfully.
Snape leaned back in his chair. It was funny, she hadn't noticed him leaning forward as he had been. "And how fair is fair?" he asked.
"Better than I am at potions," she told him. He snorted.
"That's not saying much at all," he said, obviously recalling her mistake on Friday. "How much better?"
"It's my best subject, next to Charms," Lily said, only lying a little bit. In truth, transfiguration fell two notches below Charms, taking second place to Arithmancy. "And I've always gotten top marks in Charms," she added for clarification.
Snape fisted his chin in his hand. "All right," he said. "I suppose that will have to do. In exchange for tutoring you in potions, you will help me with my transfiguration. And if I decide your lessons aren't – of use – I won't hesitate to terminate the arrangement. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly," Lily said, frowning a little. "And, of course, if I decide your lessons aren't of use, I have just as much right to end it."
"Naturally," Snape said. "Now, as for study sessions. Once Quidditch season begins, it may be rather difficult arranging for fixed sessions, as our captain is fond of erratic practices. Until then, however, I think we can plan on meeting at least twice a week."
"I have a study group I meet with on Wednesday nights here in the library," Lily said. "But other than that, I don't participate in any extracurricular activities."
"How do Tuesdays and Thursdays sound?"
"Fine with me," Lily shrugged. "I do have Astronomy on both of those nights, but that shouldn't be a problem. What time should we meet?"
"Before dinner," Snape said automatically. "That way, neither of us will be inclined to run over a time limit."
Lily gave a dry laugh. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that."
Snape gave her a death glare. "We can meet at five-fifteen, which will give us time enough for an hour-long session plus cleanup. There are unused classrooms in the dungeons that will be useful – "
"There are other rooms we could use," Lily said. "Ones with better ventilation than what you get in the dungeons. The fourth and seventh floors, for example, have loads of – "
"I don't pick the dungeons for sake of atmosphere," Snape said, sounding annoyed at the interruption. "The fact is that the dungeons hold up better against explosions. Why do you think the potions classroom is located down there?"
"Yes," Lily said, "but we won't be creating explosions. You – "
"Explosions are inevitable," Snape interrupted. "Therefore, we shall work in the dungeons." His tone said, quite clearly, end of subject.
"I'm not that bad of a brewer," Lily said, rather piqued.
"It's not a question of your skill, Evans," Snape said through gritted teeth. "Sometimes, mistakes must be made intentionally for the sake of education. To learn how to control something, you must see how far you can let it get out of control, and then see what it takes to bring it back under control. I take the phrase 'learn from your mistakes' quite seriously."
Lily sighed and resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. "I'm not going to enjoy this at all, am I?"
"Probably not," Snape said.
"All right," said Lily. "We'll meet in one of the dungeons. You'll have to show me which one, because I can't keep track of them all."
"You'd better learn," Snape sneered. "I have no inclination to teach someone something as complicated as potions when they can't even remember where the lessons are taking place."
"Right," Lily said tartly. "Of course. And I have no intention of teaching you transfiguration in the dungeons. We'll meet upstairs for that."
Snape shrugged. "I had expected that."
Lily pulled a Muggle notebook and ink pen out of the bag at her feet. "Five-fifteen on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Do you want to start tomorrow?"
"Yes, and what are you doing?"
Lily looked up. He was glaring pointedly at the ink pen she held in her hand. "Making a note of this," she said.
"Why?" Snape's voice was cold.
"So I can remember," Lily began, her voice loud with exasperation, but he cut in rather sharply.
"Do you need help remembering details as simple as these?"
Lily stared at him, green eyes wide beneath arched eyebrows. "Well, it's just in case I forget – "
Snape snarled. "If you're that absent-minded, what makes you think you could possibly remember when to add an ingredient, or how many times in which direction something should be stirred? Potions-brewing is all about details, Evans; if you can't remember that and act accordingly, you'll never improve. Put that away, or the deal's off."
Lily gaped. "Good god," she said in amazement, feeling her shock overpowering her indignant annoyance; "you're fitting into the professor niche quite smoothly, aren't you?" Normally she would have fought back against such tones, but he had a point, so she put the notebook and the pen away without further comment. Snape merely sneered at her.
"Meet me tomorrow evening in the first corridor adjoining that of the potions classroom," he told her. "Bring basic potions supplies. And don't dress up."
"Work robes," Lily verified. "Gotcha. Anything else?"
"No, that's all."
"Okay." Lily got to her feet, slinging her satchel over her shoulder. "Five-fifteen tomorrow evening; work clothes and potions stuff. Got it. I'll see you then."
She left the library, unsure and not really caring whether Snape was following suit. By the time she ended up in the Great Hall, dinner was over, and the Hall was empty save for a few straggling study groups. She climbed back up to Gryffindor Tower, stomach twinging with hunger, wondering what she had gotten herself into.
In the common room, she sank into the chair beneath the painting of the crotchety wizards in the bistro and retrieved her books from her bag. She flipped through them, trying to concentrate, distracted by both the crabby discussion going on in the painting and her current train of thought, which involved mostly speculation on what she might expect the following evening, and whether it was worth the trouble she was preparing to put herself through.
As she absently flicked through pages of spells and charm theories, the very person she most and least wanted to speak to wandered over and leaned casually over the arm of her chair.
"Hello, James," she said pleasantly, not taking her eyes off the pages she was scanning.
"Charms, eh?" asked James.
"Mm-hmm."
"I prefer transfiguration, myself," James said.
Lily glanced up. James, she noticed, looked as if he was trying his best to appear cool and detached, and he might have fooled her, had she not been so familiar with that hopeful glint in his eye and the fact that he purposefully mussed his hair like that. Any other time she would have rolled her eyes and returned to her reading, but she had a favour to ask.
"Yes, I know," she replied, shutting her book and using her thumb to mark her spot. "And actually, I was wanting to ask you about that."
James's eyebrows went up in delight. "Oh, really?"
Lily nodded genially. "Yeah. Why don't you sit down?"
James glanced around. There were no empty seats near hers, so he simply ejected the hapless second-year out of a conveniently placed ladder-back chair and turned it so he could sit facing Lily.
Lily glared at that; she needed his help, but that didn't mean she would excuse such blatant egoism. "Really, James," she said disapprovingly. "There wasn't any call for that."
"Are you going to make me get up?" James asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
Lily's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "No."
"There you have it, then," he said cheerfully. "Now, what were you going to ask me? Something about transfiguration?"
Lily nodded. "Yes. I was, actually… say, James," she interrupted herself, "where'd Sirius and the rest get off to?"
James sat up a little straighter so as to look over the heads of the other students inhabiting the common room. "I dunno," he said with an offhand shrug. "Maybe they went out to catch some time on the field. Why?"
Lily shook her head. "Just wondering. Usually you four act like you're joined at the hips."
James snorted. "We're not that close," he said with a smirk, and Lily, realizing what he'd just said, blushed.
"Oh, honestly, James," she sighed. "That's so juvenile."
"Is this going to turn into a discussion about my dubious sense of humour?" James asked.
"No. Sorry," Lily said. "I didn't mean to get off-track. I was just wondering – about transfiguration – whether you'd be interested in giving lessons."
James's eyes lit up, but he said in an unconcerned way, "Well, that would depend on whom I was to give these lessons. I wouldn't do that for just anybody, you know. For example, I wouldn't volunteer on tutoring first-year Hufflepuffs. Or second-year Slytherins."
Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I know. The great James Potter is many things, but interested in house charity work is not one of them. No; what I wanted to know was whether you'd be interested in tutoring me."
James laughed. "Interested? Merlin, do you really have to ask?"
Lily was a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. "Yes," she said with a frown. "Will you do it?"
"Sure," James said warmly. "No problem at all. Might get a little hairy around Quidditch season –"
"I know, I know," Lily said with a hasty wave of her hand, "practice and all that."
"Right," said James, not phased the slightest by her impatience. "When do you want to start?"
Lily blinked. Well, that was sudden. She hadn't expected it would be that easy, not after Snape. "Um… would this week be all right?"
James nodded. "Sure. When? Where?"
"Uh, Wednesday? 'Round sevenish? I meet some girls for revision before dinner, so it'll have to be after."
"Absolutely. Seven's perfect. Do you have any particular place in mind for studying?"
Lily shook her head. She still had to figure out which classroom would be good for teaching Snape the lessons James was presently agreeing to give her. "No. Do you have any ideas?"
"Well, there are some deserted classrooms on the third floor…."
Lily gave a hysterical little laugh. "Sure," she said recklessly. "Sure. Pick one out. I don't care which."
James looked elated. "Great. I'll meet you on the third floor Wednesday evening."
Lily nodded. "Sounds like a plan." Oh, girl, she thought, you are getting yourself in so deep….