See chapter one for all disclaimers.
A/N: Okay, I officially love Regulus Black. Not only is he one of my favourite characters to write, but also… well, I don't want to spoil anything for those people who haven't yet read HBP, but those of you who have….
I am shutting up now.
But speaking of HBP, I have a few questions for those of you who've read it (don't worry, I'm not going to spoil in this chapter – but next chapter might not be so safe). Should I change it so it's canonical? I read the Book and discovered that I can keep this totally canonical after changing only a few minor details – if you want to vote, please stop by my LiveJournal and put in your two cents.
Also, I think I'm going to need a beta reader pretty soon. Anyone up to the task?
I'd like to thank my wonderful reviewers and dedicate this to the person who came to my journal and bugged me to get this thing posted. Thank you; I needed that.
As for this chapter, please enjoy. At fifteen pages, it's a little longer than usual, but I think y'all can handle it. ;-)
chapter fourteen
She visited the apothecary frequently, despite his half-hearted urging her to stop. She brought him things – conversation, mostly, but occasionally a book or a tin of biscuits she herself had made from scratch. She invited him home again, but he declined both times, saying that he had prior obligations. In truth, he was uncomfortable over at the Evans' home, where her parents were intrusive and her sister was odious and Evans was far too solicitous about his home life.
Then, one day in early August, he received his letter from Hogwarts which informed him that he had been elected prefect for Slytherin. How he had managed it was beyond him; it was true that his grades were exemplary, but he certainly hadn't been winning any popularity contests in his previous four years at the school, and generally the prefects were people the rest of the house looked up to.
Of course, no one in Slytherin really looked up to anybody else, or so it was Severus' understanding. He could only guess that Maria had put in a good word for him. Whatever the case, he was both pleased and apprehensive, for he knew as well as anyone that the public was prone to scrutinize those in positions of power, and he could well imagine what might come of that. He'd worked for four years at being invisible, and for the most part, he was quite good at it. He supposed it would be for the best, though. After all, he couldn't very well hide from confrontation for the entirety of his life – and this might be fun, if he was vigilant and stayed on top of Potter and Black. But vigilant he'd have to be, and keep his eyes open constantly if he wanted to succeed.
It came as less of a surprise to discover that Evans had been made the Gryffindor prefect. She wandered into the apothecary that same afternoon, flushed from the exertion of her walk and positively glowing. Severus ignored Catilina's smirk when he greeted the girl civilly and they exchanged congratulations – hers bubbling with delight, his more reserved but not lacking in sincerity. She apologized for not coming to see him sooner – he waved away her explanation before she could offer it, stating that he hadn't expected her to come see him – and was it his imagination, or did she looked wounded at that?
Catilina broke in then to inform Evans half-seriously that if she insisted on coming in and interrupting her pupil at his work, she'd be forced to dock his pay, and Evans backed away, apologizing profusely, and Severus went into the store room to continue his work, leaving the ladies to themselves. He wasn't worried – Catilina could be sharp, but he was confident that Evans could handle herself. He picked up where he left off on his Somnifacient Tonic.
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"I'm perfectly serious, girl. Severus is a hard worker, and I'm sure he appreciates interruptions in his work even less than I do."
Lily twitched uncomfortably. "I know that now, ma'am. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. But surely, you must understand me – I don't know where he lives, and he won't tell me – "
"Perhaps that is best," said Catilina. "At least one of you has some sense."
The girl frowned, and lowered her voice. "I don't think it's good for him, to leave him to his own devices. And I'm his friend. I couldn't allow him to do himself harm."
"Severus can take care of himself, girl. And frankly, I think that you'll do him more harm than good. You're in for trouble with that one. One thing he really doesn't need is an attachment."
"Oh," Lily said, blushing a little. "I'm not really that attached to him."
Laughter bubbled up out of the witch's throat. "Ah, the naivety of youth! Believe that, if it makes you comfortable. But no, what I meant was that he's the one who might endanger himself with affection, if you understand me."
Lily's blush deepened, and she scowled. "I'm afraid I don't, actually," she said, and the other witch shook her head, a sad smile playing over her lovely lips.
"Oh, you'll learn," she said softly as Lily backed away. "You'll learn."
Lily left.
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She did her school shopping that afternoon and didn't return again to Diagon Alley. It wasn't until September first that she would see him again, and she was uncertain about how she should react – was she to behave toward him as she had through the summer, or, now that she was under the scrutiny of her friends, should she turn a cold shoulder? But the answer to that question was obvious: she would behave as she always had, and let James and the others make what they would of it. She wasn't sure what Snape thought, but she regarded him as a friend, and she wasn't about to let go of that because her other acquaintances disapproved.
But when she first saw him on the train, her courage failed her, and she all but ignored him. Irrationally, she felt slighted when he did the same, and she retaliated by fussing over Remus, who had also been made prefect. She indulged in spiteful pleasure when she saw a scowl twist Snape's face.
The prefects initially met in a designated compartment to receive their orders from the Head Boy and Girl. Lily sat with Remus, truly delighted that he had been made prefect, but was somewhat less than pleased when she saw Bellatrix Black walk into the compartment, a self-satisfied smirk on her moon-pale face, to sit down by Snape. She did notice that Snape was even less pleased by this, but she didn't comment.
The Head Boy and Girl – Daniel McLuhan, a Gryffindor, and Amelia Andrews, a Ravenclaw – came in and gave them their instructions. It was fairly simple; when they got to school, they were in charge of escorting the first-years to their dormitories after the feast, and until then, throughout the trip, they were to occasionally patrol the corridors of the train.
This latter order was met with less enthusiasm: the corridors of the train were, as on all trains, incredibly narrow, being at the most only two feet wide, which was plenty of room for one Lily-sized person, but it made things awkward if two people wanted to pass at the same time.
After the meeting, Lily went back up the train to find Cordelia and Eliza. They shared a compartment with Helen and Lara, who wasn't nagging Cordelia for once. Lily was glad to catch up with her friends. She felt slightly guilty for not telling them the highlights of her own summer – well, they wouldn't appreciate that she'd befriended Snape, would they? It'd be more trouble than it was worth to explain everything, and she didn't feel like defending Snape at the moment anyway.
So instead she let her friends talk, and she relaxed, allowing the swaying of the moving train to lull her into a sense of peace and well-being.
Things progressed like this for some hours, until Eliza reminded her of her prefect duties. Lily sighed to herself and stood, telling the girls that she'd be back in a few minutes, and left the compartment to patrol the corridors.
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Severus was not happy.
Generally, this statement wouldn't have surprised anyone. Severus was rarely happy; more often than not, he was out of sorts in some manner or another. But he was exceptionally cross now, for a number of reasons.
One, Bellatrix Black was his fellow prefect. He couldn't stand the girl, and avoided her at all costs. This was going to be difficult now.
Two, Evans' behaviour in the prefect compartment. He had half-believed that she would, if not openly acknowledge him, at least give some indication that she'd been serious about her associations with him over the summer, that it hadn't just been some fling born of holiday boredom. (Not, he assured himself hurriedly, that he'd expected anything romantic to come of it, but the twinge of hurt he'd felt when she'd all but plastered herself to Lupin was enough to let him know that he'd let her get too close. He wouldn't let her do that again.)
And three, he was stuck in a compartment with Sirius Abominable Black's little brother.
"Who's going to be captain this year? Since Rookwood's out, I mean."
"Moon's captain," said Severus.
Black nodded, and chattered on. "And we've only lost one player. The Gryffindors've lost two, Young and that Leithart bloke. We'll only need a beater, and they'll need both a chaser and a keeper. That puts us at an advantage, doesn't it?"
"I suppose."
"I think I might try out for the team," said Black, and Severus looked at him sharply.
"Can you play?"
"Sure I can, I've been playing all my life."
Severus turned away. "Try out then," he said. "I won't stop you."
"I think my brother's considering trying out for the Gryffindor team. Wouldn't it be funny if he got picked?"
"That's not the adjective I would have chosen, but suit yourself."
"He really does hate you," said the younger Black brother, looking up at Severus with a bland expression on his boyish face.
"The sentiment is mutual, believe me," Severus muttered.
"But we'll beat them this year," Regulus stated confidently. "Last year was a fluke. You should've won – you were great."
Severus stood up suddenly.
"Where're you going?"
"To patrol the corridors," said Severus, and escaped.
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Lily hadn't encountered so much as an errant first-year in the quarter-hour that she'd been patrolling, and she was beyond simple boredom. It wasn't until she decided to return to her compartment that she stumbled upon him, stalking up from the opposite end of the train.
"Snape," she said.
"Evans," he replied unpleasantly. This time she wasn't surprised at his hostile tone.
"Enjoying your prefect duties?" She was half-repentant for her earlier behaviour, and put as much sympathy into her tone as she thought he could take – but he responded with a snarl.
"What's it to you?"
Lily frowned. "I'm sorry, I was just asking. Would you be a gentlemen and intrude on whoever is occupying that compartment so I can get past?"
"What gives you the idea that I would do that for you?" he said scathingly.
Lily shrugged. She knew what she was going to do, and even though she'd gotten relatively close to Snape over the summer, her next movement required a certain degree of guts to execute. "Suit yourself," she said, feigning casualness, and advanced to meet him.
Slipping her hands up to his shoulders, she turned sideways at the same time he did. With a little engineering of torsos and arms and legs, she had squeezed past him in one breathless moment. Now they stood facing each other, and she regarded his abashed expression with a faintly flushed look of triumph.
"Try that again, Evans, and I'll hex you," Snape growled, looking ruffled despite his intimidating tone.
Lily knew her face was flaming; she hoped that Snape was distracted enough not to notice. She struggled to maintain an even tone of voice. "Not if I hex you first," she said, though that was as ludicrous an idea as coaxing Snape to don Gryffindor colours. Snape had good reflexes. "I'll see you at school," she added, and hurried away, leaving him to scowl by himself in the corridor.
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Severus struggled to maintain an even pace down the passageway. He could still feel the warm pressure of her hands on his shoulders. The remembered sensation made his stomach lurch in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. He shook his head – the impertinent chit; she'd better consider herself lucky that he still intended to tutor her, especially after her little – display.
"Snape!"
Severus turned around. In his distracted agitation, he'd completely missed the right compartment. Regulus Black was leaning through the sliding door, his boyish face smiling pleasantly.
"I took the liberty of getting you some sweets from the trolley-witch," said the boy, and Severus scowled.
"Thank you," he said, spitting out the words.
"You're welcome," said Regulus, seemingly oblivious to his companion's irritation. "Pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, Ice Mice… come in and sit down. Surely you're done patrolling by now?"
Severus closed the compartment door behind him. "I am." He accepted the armful of snacks that Regulus forced upon him, and eyed the bright packaging suspiciously. He didn't say anything, but took a gold piece out of his robe pocket and flipped it to the Black boy.
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The remainder of the trip was uneventful. Lily fell asleep on the train, only to be shaken awake as the train drew near the station. She slithered into her school robes, and left the compartment, yawning widely. She held a door open for the other students, and down the side of the train, she could see her new fellow prefects doing the same.
It was a fine, clear night, with a south-western breeze gently warming the air. The first-years would have a pleasant trip across the glittering black lake, Lily thought, though she was glad to have the privilege of riding in one of the school carriages. Upon reaching the school, they went straight to the great hall, where they waited for the first-years to be sorted and the announcements to be spoken before they finally ate.
She was tired, and not looking forward to giving the new Gryffindors the grand tour of the Gryffindor Tower, but Remus was soft-spoken, and she knew he would be even more uncomfortable in the position of tour-guide than she. Thinking to do her friend a favour, she relieved him of most of the duty, and left him to simply show the boys to their dormitory.
It was late when she finally got to her own dormitory, and she collapsed into bed as soon as she managed to wriggle out of her school robes. Just barely awake enough to tug a nightgown over her head, she pulled the curtains shut around her bed, and fell asleep almost instantly.
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She woke early the next day and found her diary among the belongings the house elves had brought up and placed beside her bed. In the watery morning light, she sat amidst her rumpled white bedclothes, her mussed red hair tangling around her pale shoulders as she hunched over the little book and documented her return to her beloved school.
We get our schedules today. I hope mine is convenient; it would be horrible to have an Herbology class right before a Charms or Divination lesson.
I wonder if our charms club will still meet? Maria's not here anymore. I'm kind of disappointed; I wish I'd known her better. Maybe I can get her address from someone. Snape seemed rather familiar with her; perhaps he'll have it.
God. Snape. I told myself I wasn't going to think about him, and now I am. I feel awful when I think of how I treated him on the train yesterday. I mean, I barely even acknowledged him. True, he did no more for me than I did for him, but still, I shouldn't have given in to my trepidation about James finding out. I'm a wretched girl.
I'm hungry. I think I'll go down to the Great Hall and have breakfast.
She ate alone, and when she had finished, she went and got her schedule from Professor McGonagall. She looked it over anxiously.
"Well, that's fortunate," she said to herself, noting happily that Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures – both oftentimes messy lessons – occurred at the end of a day. She was somewhat less pleased to see that her first class was Divination, a lesson which she loathed utterly.
"Hi, Prefect Lil!"
Lily glanced up to see Cordelia settling down across from her. Her friend was wearing a red sweater beneath her black school robes.
"Morning. Whaddya need?"
"Eggs," said Cordelia succinctly, and was joined momentarily by Eliza. Eliza looked more awake than Lily felt. Her hair was still wet from her shower, the thick blonde curls twisted back tightly into a ponytail. Lily could see that those curls were already beginning to frizz as they dried.
Eliza sat down beside Cordelia, and the girls exchanged pleasantries before beginning their breakfast.
"You've your schedule already?" said Cordelia some time later as she mopped up egg with a soggy piece of toast.
Lily handed it over for inspection.
"Elective first," said Cordelia. "Well, I guess that means I have to go get my schedule now."
Each class, which was comprised of students from the same year and house, took all their mandatory classes together, with particular hours allotted for each student's three chosen electives. This meant that Cordelia could not just glance at her friend's schedule to see which class she had first; her electives were different from Lily's, and thus her schedule would be different.
Lily nodded, and Cordelia, having polished off her toast, went out of the Hall.
Eliza and Lily finished their own breakfasts and parted. Lily was out of breath when she arrived at Professor Vectis', and quite content to doze through the lesson, which was mostly comprised of the Divination professor outlining the course that would follow over the next months. Lily was exceedingly glad with the class was finished, and went to Transfiguration, happy to be out of the stuffy little tower room that was Professor Vectis' domain.
The day progressed well. The Gryffindor fifth-years had Potions immediately following lunch, and Lily was pleased to see Professor Eberwulf after the long summer. He gave them a writing assignment, which was to list the eight ethical concerns that addressed potions-working; Lily couldn't help but think of Snape when she received her assignment, and wondered what he had to say on the subject of the ethical concerns, and what he would make of the assignment. But she soon pushed thoughts of that sort out of her mind; she found that thinking of Snape did strange things to her head, not to mention her temper.
She was glad to get out-of-doors to her Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology lessons, which, surprisingly, left her not half as filthy as they usually did. Professor Kettleburn's lesson covered a highly entertaining ferret-like creature called a jarvey, whose curses were strong enough to turn a sailor's ears blue, and whose behaviour was met with much amusement on behalf of the students. Matthew Kettleburn sustained several nips from the temperamental animals, but on the whole the lesson was quite enjoyable, and even Lily found herself laughing when one of the jarveys screamed that the professor was a "blasted sonowah misbegotten manticore" and scampered beneath the gamekeeper's nearby hut.
Herbology was taken in Greenhouse Five, and was rather nerve-wracking, being that there were several carnivorous plants in there that had something of an appetite and weren't exactly picky about what wandered into (or who was actively sought out by) their podlike, toothy heads. But, provided that the Graecian Ivies were strictly avoided, a student could get along quite well under Professor Sprout's no-nonsense instruction, and the lesson was quite enjoyable, despite the humidity.
Nevertheless, Lily was quite glad when she could finally get back up to the castle and take a long, cool shower. When she emerged from the bathrooms, dressed but hair still dripping, she was in a very good mood, and decided to take her studying outside. She went to her usual spot under the tree by the lake, and happily ensconced herself in her schoolwork.
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She was working on Eberwulf's essay when she was interrupted. The voice was familiar, but vaguely so – she had to turn to place the speaker, and when she did, she was taken by surprise.
"Oh, hello, Regulus!"
Grinning, the Black boy skipped down the side of the rock outcropping and came up short beside her. "Hi, Evans. I mean Lily. What're you doing?"
"Schoolwork," she said. "What about you? Don't you have work to do?"
The boy shrugged nonchalantly. "Only a bit. Can I sit down?"
"I don't know, can you?" said Lily, and Regulus laughed and plopped down beside her. He soon proceeded to pluck up a blade of grass and shred it with his fingernails.
"So how was your summer?" he said conversationally. "You didn't write to me."
Lily raised her eyebrows. Had she agreed to write to him? "I'm sorry if you expected me to," she said. "If it matters that much, next time I will."
"Well, I could've written too, I suppose," he said, and gave a peculiar one-shouldered shrug that reminded her forcefully of Snape. (She hastily pushed the ensuing mental image out of her mind.) "So I really can't say anything."
"How was your summer?" Lily asked in return, and added, wondering what kind of pastimes this kid indulged in, "Play much Quidditch?"
Regulus shrugged. "Sometimes," he said. "When I get a chance. We have a house in London, so we don't have a field or anything. But Sirius was gone half the summer over at Potter's to play. He didn't invite me." Far from sounding genuinely left-out, Regulus' mouth was downturned in a mock-pout, and his voice was exaggeratedly bereft. Lily almost got the impression that he was flirting with her – and she had to laugh; he was so very much like his brother.
"To be honest, Quidditch isn't really my thing," she said.
"Except when Slytherin's playing," said Regulus casually, and Lily's breath caught in her throat. She glared at the boy sitting beside her – his eyes glittered in a distinctly un-boyish way – and said, "Now, you know a gentleman wouldn't dream of implying such a thing," she said.
Regulus merely laughed, and said, "I won't tell anyone, don't worry."
"I wouldn't worry anyway," said Lily archly, "because there's nothing at all to tell."
"Mm-hmm," said the boy, his tone insinuating. But then he brightened, and said, "You know that both our houses will bee recruiting new players this year?"
"Yes," said Lily; "I heard something like that from James and your brother. Are you thinking of trying out?"
Regulus squirmed a bit. "Actually," he said, "I was thinking something along those lines. But I'm not sure if they'd pick me – I'm not a very good player, you see."
A Slytherin admitting to insecurity? Lily never would have imagined it.
"Well, there's no harm in trying out, is there?" said Lily.
"Depends on whether or not you get picked," said Regulus, and laughed wickedly.
Lily stretched out her legs and crossed her ankles. Her pleated skirt brushed the tops of her knees, and she folded her arms beneath her breasts, glad for the cool breeze that brushed past, making stray red hair dance and tickle her cheeks.
"Is your brother thinking of trying out?" she asked. "Do you know?"
"Oh, he's been chattering about it non-stop," said Regulus with a roll of his eyes. "I keep thinking – what if he tries out, and gets picked, and what if I do the same? That would be funny, I think, to play against him."
Lily made a noncommittal noise, unsure of what to say.
"He'd pound me if he got a chance," he said cheerily, as if the thought didn't concern him at all. Who knew, Lily thought; perhaps it really didn't. Slytherins were odd.
"What year are you in?" Lily asked suddenly. She had an inkling, but she couldn't remember exactly –
"Third," said Regulus promptly.
Lily nodded. "So this year's your first for electives. What've you got?"
"Oh," said Regulus, and assumed a meditative pose, "let's see." He began ticking them off on his fingers. "I've got… Ancient Runes… Arithmancy… and – um – Care of Magical Creatures. Why? What do you have?"
"Divination, Arithmancy, and Care of. But I'm trying to transfer out of Divination, because honestly, it sucks."
Regulus belly-laughed. Lily was sure that the people on the other side of the grounds could hear him. "Yeah, I've heard that," he said, once he'd calmed down enough to speak. "They say that the only difference between Vectis and Binns is that Vectis is a woman."
Lily smirked. "I take it you don't see much in Divination?"
"Smoke and mirrors," said Regulus, waving a hand dismissively. "I didn't really want to take Care of Magical Creatures, either, but it was either that or Div or Muggle Studies – and quite frankly, my mother would never let me take that. She says that Frame's a cuckoo; has New Ideas about Muggles. Thinks that wizards should look up to them or something."
Lily stiffened a little. It was clear that Regulus was not a fan of Muggles. "Muggles are people, too," she said defensively.
Regulus snorted. "Barely," he said, and caught a glimpse of her expression. His tone softened a bit. "Sorry, Evans, I know you're Muggleborn – but I honestly can see the use of them. They've given nothing to the world, have they?"
"I beg your pardon," Lily said in surprise. "Haven't you ever heard of electricity? Or automobiles?"
Regulus made a sort of 'pfft' sound and waved an irritated hand. "Mere substitutes for what magic can naturally provide. That eclectic stuff is unnatural."
"Electric," Lily corrected. "And it's not unnatural. Muggles harness the powers of the elements to assist them. Electric power, hydroelectric power, nuclear power – and that's just technology, Regulus. I haven't even gotten started on the arts. Ever heard of Michelangelo? da Vinci? Or what about Shakespeare? Moliere? Even wizards enjoy their plays. And Homer, and Aristotle, and all the rest – "
"Homer was a wizard," said Regulus chidingly. Lily glared.
"That's inconsequential," she snapped. "More than half of the Greats were Muggles. Wizards and Muggles alike have enjoyed their works for centuries! How can you say that Muggles have no place in our society?"
Regulus patted the air, a soothing gesture. "Let's not talk of it, Evans," he said. "I can see that this is one subject we'll just have to agree to disagree about."
Lily sighed huffily. "You're taking the easy way out, Black," she said. "You know I'm right."
"Ha," said the boy; "I don't think so. I just don't want to argue."
Lily eyed him suspiciously, but he was getting up, brushing the dirt off the back of his slacks. When he had finished straightening himself up, he turned to her, a pleasant smile on his face. "I hope you don't hate me for my beliefs," he said, sounding sincere, and offered a hand to her. It was pink and smooth, and the only blemish Lily could see was a dark blotch on his thumb and the first two fingers of his right hand, where his quill rested. "You know that I don't hold your parentage against you. You couldn't help your parents any more than I can help who my brother is. I hope we can still be friends."
Lily studied him for a moment, squinting in the glare of the sun, which was sinking behind him. Finally, she spoke up. "I knew that being friends with any Slytherin would never be easy," she said, "but I like a challenge." And she shook his proffered hand, and he beamed at her, his pale blue eyes glittering as the lake did in the setting sun.
And then he left, picking his way back over the stony little bluff that hid her spot from view, and when he was gone Lily tried to relax. But it was no use; her nerves were agitated now, and inwardly she burned at the thought of anyone disregarding Muggles as being useless – for even though she had accepted Regulus' offer of peace, she still couldn't ignore the fact that any acquaintance of hers would think such things of those who were her kin.
She scowled at the books and parchment sitting beside her. Blast, she still had homework, and now she was all riled up. If only there was something she could do to change the wizarding world's opinion toward Muggles and their magical offspring
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The rest of the week was enjoyable, if a bit harrying. The sheer load of OWL-preparatory homework was enough to stagger even the sturdiest of studiers, and even Lily, whom most regarded as overachieving, was nearly overwhelmed.
She didn't have much time for inter-house relationships that first week. She saw Snape in the halls occasionally, and though they sat in isles parallel to each other in Arithmancy on Tuesdays and Thursdays, she still hadn't mustered up the courage to say more than a simple 'Good afternoon' to him.
In truth, she was still embarrassed about her behaviour on the train. She was certain that the cold shoulder Snape was now giving her was the direct result of that behaviour, and Lily knew that she deserved every moment of his antipathy. Nonetheless, the situation made her quite miserable, and she wished heartily that she could make amends – but how, when the person with whom one wanted to make amends ignored one so well that even a distance of a metre was as good as a hundred?
Hence, Lily was somewhat more than surprised – and rather more than a little glad – when he approached her in the library Saturday morning.
She had gotten up early to peruse the school library before it was flooded with schoolwork-laden students. She'd finished all her own assignments but one, and now she was catching up on her reading. It was comfortable to be ensconced among the stacks, watching the occasional book flicker past, guided by the librarian's most frequently used Replacement Spell. The library was dirty, as all libraries are, but in the golden morning light that streamed through the high windows to pool on the floor like so many pools of amber honey, the motes in the air sparkled and danced on phantom breezes like the fairies of Lily's youthful imagination.
It was as she sat there, totally absorbed in her book, her girlishly stockinged legs tucked up beneath her in one of the ancient, well-worn tartan sofas, morning sun turning the fine hairs on her arms to gold – it was then that a slight movement alerted her to a foreign presence, and she glanced up to see Snape, his hand resting on the arm of the sofa, a cautious distance away from her elbow.
She stifled the scream that would have attracted Madame Pince's attention, and put her hand to her breast in an effort to quiet her dancing heart. "Oh," she whispered, and her book flopped shut in her lap, "Snape, you scared me."
"That'll be the first thing on our list of things to study," he said, frowning slightly as he moved to sit in the armchair across from her. "Your reflexes. They're awful."
"I'm a student, Snape," she snapped, her temper returning as she recovered from her fright, "not an Auror."
"You're a minority in an age of prejudice," Snape corrected in a surprisingly steady tone. "Do you want to survive your fifth year?"
Lily was wondering why she'd been so fired up to apologize to him.
"Is this really necessary?" she asked tiredly.
His coffee-black eyes flashed at her bored tone. "Evans – "
She could sense a lecture coming on, and decided she'd had enough. "Listen, Snape," she said. "this arguing will get us nowhere. Come here." She patted the cushion beside her. "Have you had breakfast yet?"
Snape opened his mouth to speak, to perhaps protest, but she'd already snapped her fingers, and a house elf had cracked into existence. Lily winced – she'd forgotten how much noise they made – but she gave it her directions anyway, and in the time it took for Snape to get up and come to sit in the chair beside her, it had returned bearing a tray with two saucers, two teacups, a dish of sugar lumps, a tiny pitcher of cream, a plate with a few lemon wedges on it, and a steaming teapot, muffled by a red and green tea-cosy. It set the tray on the little end-table between the two prefects' chairs, and Lily immediately began the process of pouring tea.
"Cream?" she said, and when he inclined his head, she poured a small amount into the bottom of one of the cups, and then added the tea on top. "Sugar?" she asked him, and he nodded; "One lump or two?" and he held up a single finger. She used her fingers for the sugar – there were no tongs to be found among the articles on the tray – and then handed him his cup and saucer.
He accepted it, careful of the rapidly-heated china, and sniffed it gingerly. "I can make my own tea," he said, as she poured tea into her own cup and added sugar and a squeeze of lemon; but she did not reply, and he didn't press the issue.
For a brief interlude, they sat and sipped their tea in silence. Lily was mollified, and hoped (futilely) that Snape was too. But he had only finished half of his tea when he set down his cup and saucer, looked her squarely in the eye, and said, quite plainly, "When do you believe you'll be available for Defence lessons?"
Lily coughed as her tea went down the wrong way. When she had calmed herself, she spoke, eyes watering: "Good grief, Snape. Can't you drop it?"
"No."
Lily rolled her eyes and flopped weakly back on the sofa. "Maybe I don't want to take your lessons," she said.
"Don't fool yourself," said Snape, not at all bothered by her careless tone of voice. "You need them, and you know it. Besides," he added eloquently, "you are intrigued."
Lily scoffed, but did not verbally deny his claim. "Supposing I agree," she said after a moment. "Suppose that's what I do. What's in it for you? What do I have to do?"
"We went over that before," he said sharply. "I need – a sparring partner, if you will. It's no secret that you need instruction. And I need practice. We'll mutually gain."
Lily thought about this for a long moment.
Then: "But do you need a sparring partner more than I need an instructor?"
He arched an eyebrow. "What are you insinuating?"
"What about potions?" she said. "And before you say anything, I know what you said. You said I'm advanced enough. But I'm not. I want to advance more. I really do want to work on my potions technique. I noticed a distinct drop in my control last year when you stopped tutoring me in favour of teaching me philosophy." Her eyes were narrowed. "I want my potions lessons back."
This was apparently the last thing Snape had expected to hear, for his face registered more surprise than Lily was accustomed to ever have seen. How could she have taken him off guard? She'd been certain he knew how much she valued those lessons….
He regained his composure soon enough, and was shaking his head before Lily could speak again. "No," he said. "I told you last year. Not until you've boosted your skills in Defence. And I hardly think it'd be fair, anyway – that I should give you both defence and potions lessons and you not provide anything by way of recompense."
Lily's eyebrows arched. "Transfiguration lessons," she suggested, but he vetoed that immediately.
"I am quite satisfied with my talent in those respects," he said, and then added, somewhat stiffly, "You were an apt instructor. But," he went on, before Lily could properly marvel at the compliment, "the defence lessons alone would, I believe, be rewarding to both of us. I've seen your work in the classroom before, Evans, and I know that while you are semi-competent, you could be much more than that." After a moment of hesitation, he added, "Do consider accepting my offer."
Lily sighed, long and windily. Snape was still, and merely regarded her with those inscrutable eyes of his over the rim of his teacup as she waged mental war on her own sensibilities.
But in the end, she broke down, as she secretly knew she would. "Okay. All right, I accept. But – but you have to promise me – "
His gaze sharpened. "Promise what?"
Lily frowned. "Promise me that we won't do anything that could lead to trouble. I don't want Professor Dumbledore to find out that we've been – I don't know – summoning demons, or, or sneaking out into the Forbidden Forest to look for pogrebins, or – "
Snape shook his head emphatically. "No, no, no. Nothing like that. Mainly I want to focus on duelling. Those books I lent you last year – "
"Yes?"
" – We're done with those. We'll start practicing kinetic magic first thing. How are Sunday evenings?"
"Not Sundays," said Lily hurriedly. "I want Sundays to be free. Saturday evenings."
"Starting tonight?"
Lily was a little startled, but acquiesced. "Um, sure. Should I bring – "
"Just your wand," he said.
"What time? An hour before dinner?"
"Make that right after dinner," he said. "I don't want to be constrained to a single hour." With that, he set down his half-full teacup and made to stand up.
She caught at his sleeve before he could rise. "Wait a second," she said. "Stay – finish your tea."
"We have concluded our business," said Snape, sounding bemused and a little stubborn as he drew his sleeve out of her grip.
"So? You don't have any pressing engagements, do you?"
"No, but – "
"Finish your tea, then," Lily interrupted. "Indulge me in some extracurricular conversation."
Snape heaved a put-upon sigh, but he plucked up his cup and saucer again, and Lily was appeased for the moment.
"So," she said, watching him drink his tea, "how has your week been?"
"Fine, thank you," he answered automatically, and Lily refrained from rolling her eyes.
"Are you still taking, um, Ancient Runes?"
"Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday," said Snape.
"How is that working out?" Lily asked.
Snape set his saucer down on the tray between them, and cupped his cooling tea in his long, curling fingers. "What do you mean?"
"Do you enjoy that class?" she clarified.
"It's all right," he said.
Lily thought that trying to have a conversation with Snape was exactly like pulling teeth. "Does Professor Edwards give you a lot of homework?"
"It adds to the load," said Snape, and Lily understood that to mean 'yes'. She decided to change the subject; apparently, this one didn't really interest Snape all that much.
"So," she said, "Quidditch. I hear our teams'll be needing new players this year. What do you think?"
"I think that it's odd that you should bring up the subject," said Snape calmly. "I wasn't aware that you were such a fan of the game."
"I've always come to my friends' games," said Lily. She decided to go out on a limb and add, "And I think it's a shame that you didn't win last year."
She saw his nostrils flare. "I don't want your pity, Evans," he said sharply.
Lily glared at him. "It's not pity, Snape," she said, emphasizing his surname. "I'm trying to be sociable. I really do regret the fact that we won last year – it gets boring after a while, you know. I imagine James would be horrified to learn that I'm essentially rooting for the other team. And don't look at me like that!" Snape had scowled at the mention of his arch-nemesis's name. "Potter's got to learn that I can have friends outside my own house."
"How's he to learn anything when you conceal your defiance so well?" Snape offered as a rejoinder.
Lily blushed; Snape was all too right. She soldiered on anyway. "I haven't quite worked my way up to that step yet," she protested. "But it's only a matter of time. And can't we have just one conversation without ending in argument? It's really beginning to irritate."
"You're telling me?" she heard him mutter under his breath.
"Look," she said, "I'm trying to be polite. But you make it almost impossible – !"
"I'm sorry for that," he said sarcastically, and Lily nearly saw red.
"Damn it, Snape!" she said, and regretted it; the librarian had finally taken notice of their little discussion, and came bustling over, hissing at them to shut up or leave. Snape took that as his cue.
Lily leapt to her feet, snapping her fingers and ordering the ensuing house elf to take away the tea things. She snatched up her book and followed Snape out of the library, skipping in her eagerness to catch up.
He swept down the deserted corridor outside, and she struggled to match his pace. "Wait a second," she said angrily, and only when she seized his arm did he turn to face her – but he didn't stop there, he seized her in turn, and drew back his left hand –
Lily slapped him. His black eyes went wide, and Lily was aware of the guncrack-sound echoing through the open corridor. She was almost to angry to speak, and glowered at him for a full thirty seconds in silence before she regained her wits.
"If this is how it is always going to be," she said, gritting out every word separately and slowly, so as to impress upon him that she meant what she said – "I refuse to work with you."
He opened his mouth, but when she held up a hand, he was still.
She continued. "I loved doing potions with you," she said, speaking in a more natural tone of voice. "It was quiet work, and we got along. But defence magic is much more kinetic, and is by nature fiery. I will not – I will not do this if every lesson ends with us screaming at each other. I've done my best, but when you refuse to humble yourself it puts all of my efforts to waste. I can't keep the peace by myself. Please, for once, talk to me without sarcasm or – or rancour, and – pretend to be a human being!"
Snape's face was a livid mask. "You dare – " he began, and she saw his hand go for his sleeve, where he kept his wand.
Lily turned abruptly, facing her back to him. "Go ahead," she said softly. "Curse me. Do it while my back's turned. Convince me that you're just like them. Believe me, Snape, it'd make my next decision so much easier to make."
She realized with a surge of horror that her eyes were wet, and that she was crying. She knew that it would be more embarrassing to turn and face him now than it would to be found by some random passer-by, face down on the floor, victim of Petrificus Totalus or some other debilitating hex; so she simply stood there and waited for him to make up his mind.
But he did the unexpected: he paced around to stand in front of her, and when she looked up at him, she was astonished at the emotion she found waiting in his eyes. It wasn't regret, and it wasn't shame, and it certainly wasn't concern… but maybe a tentative mix of the three? He'd put his wand away, she saw through tear-blurred eyes; he was now fingering the cuffs of his sleeves, wrists crossed in a subconsciously defensive position, and he seemed to be chewing on his lips.
"Well?" Lily muttered, turning her head to draw her sleeve across her eyes. "What are you waiting for?"
His hand found her arm and drew it away from her averted face. The touch of one cool finger beneath her chin brought her head up, and she met her gaze with his – his hands dropped, and he hastily withdrew again, but this time he spoke, and his voice was just a little hoarse.
"I've been…."
She waited. His eyes flickered.
"…inflexible," he finally said.
She still waited.
"And I… would like to…."
Lily licked her lips. They tasted like salt. Go on, she silently prodded.
"…express my – remorse, for my actions."
She found herself feeling less satisfied than she thought she'd be.
"That is not to say," he added quickly, "that you have been entirely without fault."
She opened her mouth to protest hotly – (I know, I've been trying to tell you – !) – but he shook his head almost imperceptibly and said, "You haven't," he insisted. "And I know you've admitted to it. Which is… more than I've done." He scowled. "And I'm sorry."
Irrationally, Lily felt her eyes tear up again. "It's fine," she muttered, her voice sounding phlegmy. She cleared her throat, and said again, "It's fine. Just – I hate fighting with you." She hugged herself and wiped her damp cheek on her shoulder. "Um. I'm going to… go now."
"Will you come to the third-floor classroom tonight?"
Lily sighed. "Can we start next week?"
A muscle worked in Snape's jaw, but he nodded. "Of course."
"Thank you," she said, and then fled.