AN: ... It's been a month. I AM SORRY.
But here's a sixteen-page chapter for my faithful readers.
A big thank you to my luvly beta, Lavinia. :waves: She makes my stuff readable, and for that I am eternally grateful.
One final note: I am so evil.
Happy reading!
chapter sixteen
"Now, we're going to split up into pairs for this project. Sit down, Mr Wilkes! Now. Each pair will need two feet or so of parchment, as well as – desist, Mr Wilkes! If I have to address you again this hour, it'll be twenty-five points from Slytherin! – Right. What was I saying?"
"Two feet of parchment, sir," said Webster Stark, a seventh-year Ravenclaw.
" – Two feet of parchment and the prediction index, if you don't feel comfortable without it. The instructions are all on your parchment," the professor added as he indicated the stack of paper on the otherwise uncluttered desk beside him. "I want you to map out fifty variables and semivariable odds for your partner's next week based on the usual character, heart, and social numbers derived from the standard European translation. Miss Burghold, if you'd followed directions you wouldn't have to translate these numbers yet again. – Well, then, I suggest you get hold of a planner of some sort, because I'm not going to remember these things for you. So: you have your assignments; get to work."
The classroom was a bustle of activity as the students paired off together. Severus got out a pre-cut roll of parchment and began digging through his quill case, looking for a suitable nib. His usual one was clogged with ink. He'd never had that problem before; he'd always used a magical, non-clogging India ink, until the exorbitant price became far beyond his salary, and he's been obliged to switch to a cheap Muggle brand meant more for arts-and-crafts than everyday use.
As he fussed with his quill, he saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, felt a bump – Evans had scooted into the seat next to his, and was trying to get his attention with a desperate sort of expression on her face.
"Mind if I pair with you?" she muttered, and cast a pointed glance sideways. Severus followed her gaze and saw Wilkes stepping forward, a smug, determined look on his face. Severus sneered and gave a curt nod, and Evans gratefully rearranged her supplies in a tidy fashion atop the table.
Across the room, Wilkes gazed at the two with a raised eyebrow, and then turned around and partnered with a weedy Ravenclaw boy as if he'd meant to do so all along.
Evans mouthed a thank-you at Severus once Wilkes' back was turned, and Severus glanced away, embarrassed by her gratitude.
They started on the assignment, and Severus was almost surprised to find that Evans, with whom he had never before partnered in Arithmancy, paced him nicely. They worked almost silently, but she seemed to premeditate his calculations, and so there was really no need for words. And they worked so speedily that they finished the project before the end of the hour, and Professor Helvetii looked a little stunned as they turned in their rolls of parchment with moments yet to spare.
They returned to their place at the table, and Severus, as he sat to gather his supplies, wanted to know: "So, is Lupin fully recovered from…?"
"The flu. Yes; it took a while, but he's fine now." Evans looked surprised that he'd bothered to ask.
"He's ill often, isn't he?" said Severus, merely for the sake of conversation – but then he realized something.
"Poor Remus," Evans shook her head, and her red hair gleamed, metallic in the sunshine that rolled through the window. "He's always ill. Seems a week doesn't go by that he ends up in the infirmary with one thing or another."
Severus frowned unconsciously. "Is he particularly accident-prone?"
"I don't think so. Not very. He's had a few broken bones, but not many, to my knowledge. I think his immune system is weak, or something."
Severus had no idea what an immune system was; it was some Muggle thing, he was sure.
"And his mother's frequently ill, from what I understand," Evans continued. "He goes and visits her often enough – "
The bell rang, and there was an immediate commotion. Severus found himself waiting for Evans, who had been preoccupied talking to him and still had half her things laying around the table.
"Anyway," she said, once she'd slung her bag over her shoulder and bid Professor Helvetii a good afternoon, "what's the situation with the music at the ball? Any updates?"
Severus heaved a longsuffering sigh. "Wands Up have been vetoed, due to unavailability. Now they're trying to decide between Gregarious Flynn and another 'modern-classical' group – a sextet of Scottish hags."
Evans raised an eyebrow. "That sounds interesting."
"Not the way I would have worded it. I've heard them before."
She laughed out loud, surprising him. He noticed uncomfortably the looks they were drawing in the hallway, and noticed with more than a little unease that Wilkes was shadowing them under the pretence of loitering with some younger Slytherin girls.
Evans seemed to notice him stiffen, and drew back a margin of an inch. "Well," she said airily, "I should get going. Loads of homework. History and Defence – I can see where I'll be spending the rest of my evening." And with the barest flutter of a wink she breezed past him, ever the image of the preoccupied, self-possessed schoolgirl in her regulation pleated skirt, woollen stockings and patent-leather shoes.
Severus's eyes were downcast when Wilkes approached him. Hanging on Wilkes' arm was a fairly pretty Slytherin second-year with a sickeningly smug expression twisting her features. "Snape, was that the Mudblood I saw you conversing with a moment ago?"
Severus couldn't see what good it would do him to lie, so he spoke the curt truth. "Yes."
"Let me guess. Going over your assignment, like the studious little children you are."
"Continue that patronizing tone with me, Wilkes, and I won't hesitate to hex you in your sleep."
Wilkes put his hands up, an peaceful gesture. "Peace, friend. Heh; you see, Delilah, how much influence Severus has over us! It's because he means what he says; you can see it in his eyes. He really won't hesitate to hex me in my sleep. That's what I love about you, Snape." Wilkes turned his cool eyes on Severus again. "You're so emotionally detached."
"Thank you."
Delilah giggled, and Wilkes nodded graciously. "You're more than welcome."
And the pair left Severus to walk by himself.
Lily went to Gryffindor Tower to put away her unnecessary things before continuing to the library, History of Magic and Defence texts in her bag. She wondered – no, she knew Snape had gotten her hint (he wasn't dense, after all) – she wondered whether he would act on it, and meet her in the library.
She sighed as she walked through the drafty corridors. Chances on that happening were slim. But maybe not – he'd seemed particularly chatty toward the end of Arithmancy. She wondered why he'd bothered to ask about Remus, whom she knew was not high on Severus' list of favourite people. Maybe he'd just been making conversation – she'd done the same thing, after all, in inquiring after the situation on the music for the ball. But Snape wasn't a conversational sort of person. As of late, though, he'd been full of surprises – perhaps he'd surprise her again.
She settled down in the library with her texts and a few tomes she'd retrieved from the shelves, and began to study.
She had difficulty concentrating at first, but eventually she sunk into her studying mode, and an hour later, the finger on her arm struck her out of her focus like a bucket of ice water.
"I'm sorry," he said, and took the seat across from hers. She'd chosen a particularly snug nook in the farthest reaches of the library that afternoon, and Severus' robes brushed hers beneath the table.
"Quite all right," she said, leaning back and brushing a hand through her hair. "You came."
He gave a wry smile. "Indeed. What do you want?"
Lily raised her eyebrows. "Want…? I don't want anything. Just – well, I thought we could talk."
To her relief, he didn't scoff or smirk, but met her statement with an inquisitive quirk of his eyebrow. "About what?"
"Anything." She pushed her book aside. "Friends. Family. School. Whatever you want."
He laughed a little at that, but not unkindly. "I think we should stay on safe ground."
"School it is."
Lily, delighted, had to restrain herself from leaping across the table and hugging him. She'd broken through! He hadn't snubbed her or pushed her away, and was going so far as unabashedly complying with her wishes. Surreal, Lily thought, and leaned back in her chair. --think about italicizing "surreal."
"What did you think of the assignment in Arithmancy?"
"It was bland," Snape replied with a decisive nod. "Rubbish, Arithmancy. Too much work for what comes of it."
Lily looked at him in surprise. Here was something she hadn't expected. "But Arithmancy can be very powerful," she said. "Far more accurate than divination, which is just a bunch of – "
" – smoke and mirrors," Snape finished, and she smiled. "Yes," he continued, "but we never do any of the hard-core arithmancy in school."
"Well, we're hardly advanced enough, are we?"
"And we're not getting any better," Snape countered. "That assignment – "
" – was child's play," Lily said. "I know. It helps, having a solid Muggle background in maths."
"What, and you think that wizards don't teach such elementary skills to their children?" Snape's tone was slightly challenging, and Lily rose to meet it.
"Apparently not as well as Muggles," she said. "I heard Wilkes complaining about carrying. Honestly, that's about as basic as it gets, above using your fingers."
Snape scoffed. "Wilkes," he said succinctly, "is an ass."
Lily had to suppress a snort. "You're telling me?"
He gave her a sharp look. "You've had trouble with him."
"Of course I have. He's been in my bloody class for two years, and until today he's partnered with me almost every single lesson."
Snape glanced away. "Another very good reason to take defence lessons," he muttered, and she could see his gaze harden. She was glad he wasn't looking at her, though she felt sorry for her copy of An Extensive History of Goblin Revivals in the Middle Ages, by Stezhir Salmon.
"Wilkes is just a snobby Slytherin," Lily said sternly, and wished she felt as confident. "No offence. But he's puffed-up on his own blood. As if it's something to boast about."
"I agree that the purity of one's blood is irrelevant," said Snape, who Lily had heard was a pureblood, and therefore not really concerned with the pruning of the race. "But Wilkes isn't the kind of person you should just brush off. He – "
Snape broke off suddenly and glanced out into the stacks, which were silent and apparently deserted. Nevertheless, he lowered his voice, and they both leaned forward as he resumed speaking.
"Wilkes," said Snape in a voice as soft as the cashmere scarf Lily's mother had gotten her last Christmas, "is not to be ignored. Listen, Evans – and I mean this – be careful around him. It's bad enough that he's taken a liking to you – "
Lily jerked back, opened her mouth to hotly protest; Snape, however, grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward again, and spoke in a more urgent tone.
"Don't be deliberately dense, Evans; you know it as well as I do. Of course, he only wants to get into your skirt, so don't expect any chivalry from him."
Lily wondered if she should slap him, and decided against it; in any case, she was too shaken by his curt words to keep her hands from shaking, let alone orchestrate an offensive move.
"Which is my point exactly," Snape continued. "He hates Muggleborns. So no matter – or maybe, because of – how much he admires your lovely hair, he won't hesitate to curse you if he gets the chance."
Lily almost didn't hear the last part of his warning. She was too preoccupied with the sudden chills that persuaded her spine to curl inward, and the warmth of Snape's long, calloused fingers wrapped around the slender bones of her wrist. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a cool prickle at her hairline.
He suddenly seemed just as aware as she, and extricated himself from her as completely as if he'd erased what just happened. She felt a twinge of fear, a little irritation, and quite a bit of embarrassment.
"I'll be careful," was all she said, though.
Snape looked away.
There was a lengthy, uncomfortable silence. Lily began to fidget.
"Lessons again on Saturday?" she said at last.
"Yes," said Snape, and suddenly stood, almost knocking over the little table upon which were piled Lily's texts.
"Leaving already?"
"Things to do," Snape snapped, and Lily recoiled.
"All right," she said hurriedly; "See you… later."
He hurried away without another word, and Lily, extremely dissatisfied, returned to her work.
"Levicorpus!"
"Ahhhh!"
There was an outburst of laughter in the corridor as the second-year girl flipped upside down, suspended in midair by one ankle. Her shrieks of terror were nearly drowned out by the crowd's amusement.
Lily forced her way through the crowd. "Potter!" she bellowed. "Potter, you swine, put her down!"
Her path was abruptly blocked. Black had her by the arm, ostensibly a friendly grip, but the boy's Quidditch strength was evident to Lily, who was certain he'd leave bruises. "Where're you headed, Evans?"
"You know very well, Black," Lily snarled, and tried to wrench herself out of his grip.
"Aw. Is that any way to treat your future husband?"
"Not in the mood, Black," she said, and succeeded in freeing herself. She made it to Potter's side before Black had her again.
"Darling, you're absolutely stunning when you're angry," he murmured, and, taking her round the waist, dipped her backwards.
"Potter!" Lily howled, and the note of true desperation in her voice caused Potter to turn. He saw the pair and barked an order at Black, who, surprisingly, complied immediately and dropped her to the floor.
"Now, now, Padfoot," said Potter reprovingly, still looking over his shoulder at Sirius, who had picked her back up and was ever-so-courteously dusting off her front.
"STOP IT!" she shrieked, and shoved his hands away. To Potter, she cried: "Let the poor girl down!"
He chuckled; a pleasant sound, given the situation. "Why?"
"Because I'm a prefect, that's why!"
"Oh, you're going to turn in your rescuer?" said Potter, pretending to pout. "I saved you from certain snogging."
"And yet your crony continues to harass me!" she said, shoving Black's hands away once again.
"C'mon, Evans, we're just playing around!" said Potter, who was practically slavering with delight by now. He is worse than Peeves, Lily thought abruptly, growing more furious by the moment.
"Yeah, and you're only 'playing around' when it's someone else's knickers on display!" Lily said, gesturing toward the poor second-year, who was clutching at the skirts of her robes, trying to keep them from flying over her head.
"Aw, come off it, Evans – " Black started, but suddenly Lily had her wand out.
"You really think you can beat me with that thing, Evans?" said Potter, a glimmer of glee in his eyes.
"I'll beat you 'bout the head and shoulders if you don't let up in three seconds," said Lily seriously, and began to count. "Three… two…."
"It's not worth it, mate," said Black, patting Potter's wand arm, which was still aimed at the helpless girl.
" – One," said Lily, and at the same time, Potter's wand lifted, and the girl fell in a heap to the floor. Lily rushed over to help her up; the poor thing's eyes were filled with tears.
"It's all right," Lily said comfortingly; "you'll be fine. I'll make sure those two get detention for the rest of the month – go on up to – Ravenclaw, is it? – Professor Flitwick's."
The girl tottered away, and Lily was glad to see another girl join her and link arms. Heads down, they hurried away, the second girl whispering words of comfort in her harried friend's ear. Satisfied, Lily turned around to the boys again, who were both eyeing her amusedly.
"You two," she said calmly, "are mine."
"Didn't know you were that kind of girl," said Sirius, and before she knew what she was doing, Lily forgot about her wand and popped him in the mouth.
It was just bad luck that Professor McGonagall had come round the corner that very moment. Now, all subjected to a rather disgusting detention with Professor Eberwulf, they were partly drenched in dragon-tuber juice, sporting blisters from the wicked sap, and in foul moods.
"Who taught you to punch like that?" Sirius wanted to know, but Lily would not speak to him. She hadn't spoken to either of the boys since McGonagall had sentenced them to an hour in the dungeons. She was afraid that, should she open her mouth, she'd say something she'd regret later.
"You're spilling more puss, mate," Potter noted, and Sirius cursed and batted at his stained apron with gloved hands.
"You hit hard for a girl," Sirius said for the fifteenth time.
"Wouldn't think a little jinx like that would earn such a disgusting detention," said Potter conversationally. "I mean, this isn't just a little disgusting. This is really, really, really disgusting. Buggering hell!"
"You spilled your puss," Sirius sniggered. Potter thumped him.
"Settle down over there," Professor Eberwulf boomed from across the classroom. "No more talking, or it'll be another half hour."
There was silence for a time.
Then:
"So, is this your first detention, Evans?"
Lily didn't bother to keep her voice down. "You heard what Professor Eberwulf said," she said loudly. "Any more talking, and it'd be another half hour of puss."
"This is your last warning, Mr Black," Eberwulf's voice rang out.
Once the professor had turned back to his own project, Sirius jabbed Lily painfully in the side. "What's your problem?" he hissed, incredulous. She suppressed her yelp by biting her tongue and refused to answer, continuing to dig the crud out of her dragon-tuber.
"Evans, if we ever get out of here, you're history."
She couldn't help the wicked smile that sprang to her face, but she didn't say another word. And aside from the occasional muttered curse from the boys as they sustained yet more injuries from careless work, they were silent until their detention had been served.
They parted at the entrance to the dungeons. The boys headed off in the direction of the infirmary to tend to their numerous burns, and Lily, having been rather more careful than they, headed straight on up to Gryffindor Tower.
She was tired. They'd been in that dungeon until almost curfew, and she was glad that, being a prefect, she couldn't be punished for being out after curfew. But three hours of dissecting dragon-tubers with James and Sirius had fried her nerves. Her legs and back were aching, not to mention her wrists from holding and cutting tubers all evening. And she felt a slight stinging on the inside of her right arm; she imagined she'd gotten burnt after all. Oh, she'd be glad to get to bed…. Lucky thing that tomorrow was Saturday….
She cursed mentally. Saturday! Ball-committee meeting! Blast if she hadn't volunteered. Oh, well, it was a ten-o'clock meeting, so she wouldn't be forced to rise until nine at least.
She turned down a corridor, and a very real chill brought her unexpectedly out of her musing. A draft whispered past her bare ankles, and she felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck as she reached the top of the small flight of steps.
"Who's… who's there?" she said, clearing her suddenly dry throat. "Peeves? Is that you…?"
But there was no sound other than the fierce beating of her heart.
– until a hoarse, sibilant voice uttered a sound, and she toppled head-first down the stairs.
The hex he'd cast rendered her stiff and virtually immobile, voiceless and nearly breathless from invisible bands constricting her chest, but she managed to twist around a bit so she didn't fall directly on her forehead. But the staircase was steep, and she tumbled, bashing elbows on the stone bannister and knees on the cruel-edged steps, until she crashed into a boneless heap at the bottom, half unconscious.
Footsteps on the flagstones. Heart thundering – it's not Snape this time – lip smarting where it's split. That voice –
"Careful, Mudblood."
A hand gripping her shoulder, wrenching painfully, and now she's on her back, facing up into the shadowy recesses of the arching hallway ceiling. Her heart pounds frantically, and as she gazes up she can feel the invisible fist tightening around it –
A face swims into view.
"You're lucky it wasn't Wilkes."
And though he's done away with the unfamiliar hex, she is too terrified to move. She simply lies there, looking up into the quiet Slytherin's shady face.
"I know Severus is fond of you," he says, "and since I admire him, I'll give you a warning."
Her heart beats faster.
"Stay away, Evans."
And he is gone.
Lily lay on the landing for an indeterminable length of time, waiting for her blood to slow and thicken again in her veins. And now she grew colder on the frozen flagstones, and her mind began to run rationally again, and she tried to remember who he was.
A quiet boy. Always in the back of the class, head bowed, dark hair feathering in his shadowed eyes. Lestrange. Rodolphus Lestrange. That was his name.
Lily tried to remember something else about the boy, but for the life of her, she couldn't. She'd never heard him speak before. He'd kept such a low profile even Potter never bothered him. And now here he was, showing up with hexes and warnings and that terrifying, disused voice.
She sat up slowly, feeling every ache in her chilled joints. She'd be bruised tomorrow, all right. No short skirts for a week, and by the feel of the back of her neck, no low-collared shirts, either. Her knees scolded her as she stood and made an attempt to brush the wrinkles from her robes. Oh, but she was sore. It was a lucky thing that it hadn't been a full flight of steps; she might have broken her head.
Wand drawn – not taking any chances now – she returned to Gryffindor. She was surprised to find people still in the common room when she came in; ten minutes hadn't passed since she'd first left the dungeons, but it seemed like hours. She waved goodnight to Remus and Eliza, and stiffly climbed the stairs to her bedroom.
"Merlin's beard. What happened to you, Lily?"
Lily rolled over in bed. "Wha'?"
"Get bit by Rip Van Winkle? It's past ten."
Lily's brain was too sleep-muddled to work out Cordelia's lacklustre joke, but she heard the clock striking at that very moment, and bolted upright.
"Ten! Meeting! Why didn't you get me up earlier?"
She tried to get out of bed, got tangled in the sheets and fell flat on the floor. She got up groaning.
Cordelia caught her arm and hoisted her upward. "You aren't going anywhere in that condition," she said firmly.
"Shower'll wake me up," Lily mumbled, and tried to pull away, though her left knee was now smarting dreadfully.
"Back to bed. You look like death warmed over. I'll get 'Liza to bring you up some breakfast."
"Meeting," Lily insisted, but Cordelia would brook no argument; the fit girl pushed Lily back onto the bed.
"Skip it. They've got plenty of people; Lupin can bring you your assignments, if you have any. You need sleep."
Lily was marginally awake by now, and ready to get righteously indignant, but she really did want a few extra hours of rest. So, she allowed Cordelia to tuck her in again, and remained in bed while her friend went downstairs to find Eliza and send her off for breakfast.
She gave hardly any thought to the occurrence of the previous night – Lestrange's warning. She knew she'd have to be more careful now, but she was hardly going to stop associating with Snape – that was certain. She was decided, and nothing would persuade her otherwise.
Cordelia returned eventually, Eliza following, bearing a tray of breakfast. Lily was a little embarrassed at the lavish treatment but pleased nonetheless. While she ate, her friends sympathised with her tale of recalcitrant boys and an overlong detention.
"Seems to me you deserve a bit of a lie-in," said Cordelia smartly as Lily polished off her toast. "Never mind the prefect meeting."
"Remus'll fill you in," Eliza assured, and patted Lily on the knee. "Such a good boy."
"It's too late now, of course," said Lily, picking up her wooden-handled brush from the bedside table. "But I have the feeling that it was a bad idea to miss it. We're really busy with this ball coming up."
She saw Eliza and Cordelia exchange glances, and looked pointedly at them. "I don't want to hear anything about dates," she said firmly. "If I have to go, I'll go by myself. James is a prat. I wouldn't go with him for twenty galleons."
"We weren't going to say anything about it," Eliza said softly. "In fact, I was going to suggest turning him down if he asks."
"Eliza's right," Cordelia added. "He can't get everything he wants. You have to make him work for it."
Eliza pushed the girl off the bed. Cordelia toppled with a shriek, and when she finally managed to clamber back on top of the mattress, Eliza was sitting behind Lily, brushing her hair for her.
Lily smiled smugly, and Cordelia stuck her tongue out.
"Just push me off the bed, why don't you."
"I think it's ridiculous, all the energy we're putting into this ball," said Lily. "Really, why are we even having it? It's only Halloween. Sure, it's a magical night, but only for Dark wizards. I think it's just an excuse to dress up."
"And snog," Cordelia added helpfully.
"That too," Eliza said, gently teasing out a tangle. "Merlin's undershorts, Lily, where'd you get this nasty bruise?"
"Is it on her neck?" Cordelia asked interestedly, and Lily nudged her with her foot in admonition.
"Don't be disgusting. It's from when Black dropped me yesterday."
She heard Eliza's breath hiss between her teeth. "It looks horrible. Ah, that must've hurt! Well, you'll be wearing your hair down for the next week."
"I dunno," said Cordelia. "You should wear it up and make Sirius feel guilty."
"Black's conscience is the size of a withered Puffapod," said Lily succinctly. "He could decapitate me, and he wouldn't feel guilty even if I came back to haunt him."
"Carrying your head under your arm?"
"No – given Black's penchant for screwing things up, it'd be dangling by sinews, like Sir Nick's."
"That's revolting," said Eliza, jerking a bit harder on the snarl. "Let's talk about something else."
At that moment, Lara Cranfield, with her mouse-brown hair recently dyed blonde, walked into the dorm.
"Slugabeds," she said, and continued to her side of the room to deposit a dirty canvas satchel stuffed full of gardening things. "I've been up since six, and I've already worked through two greenhouses."
"Nutter," said Cordelia.
Lily and Eliza both winced as Lara slammed a book down on her nightstand.
"And what have you contributed to society this morning, Stott?" Lara growled.
"Sanity?" suggested Cordelia, and Lily saw Lara's face flush.
"And what about you, Evans?" Lara suddenly turned and attacked. "Prefect Evans – aren't you supposed to be at a meeting right about now?"
"Sod off," said Cordelia angrily. "For your information, Cranfield, Lily's had a rough night."
"Out with Potter, I expect," Lara snarled, and all three girls immediately burst into heated retorts.
"Just because you can't – "
"I was not – !"
"Lara, what's your – ?"
"Oh, you can't fool me," Lara said, angling her hands on her hips. "All three of you were missing; you and Potter and Black. Kinky, Evans, real kinky – "
Lily laughed bitterly. "You are such a child, Lara. For your information – "
" – yeah, you're such a child," Cordelia interrupted. She was seething. "For your information, Lily was in detention for saving some second-year girl's dignity from those two. Where've you been? Hiding in a hole?"
"Well, excuse me for not reading the papers," Lara retorted. "Pardon if I have better things to do with my time than listen to gossip."
Cordelia started laughing, and Lily rolled her eyes.
"And yet you seem to have a grand time making it up," Lily said. "You're as bad as the rest of them."
"And what about you, huh?" Lara cried. "Three against one? Is that fair? You're worse than the Slytherins – "
Cordelia stopped laughing immediately and, before Lily or Eliza could stop her, had whipped out her wand and put a stop to Lara's rudeness.
There was a muffled squealing as Lara tried to unglue her lips, but Cordelia refused to lift the hex. "Just remember, Cranfield," she said shortly, "you started it."
And, flicking her gently-sparking wand, she expelled Lara from the room, locking the door behind her. Immediately there was a volley of noise as Lara hammered on the door and screamed through the magical gag, but eventually she let up and they heard her footsteps fade down the steps.
"You know it'll be hell when she gets her mouth unglued," said Eliza conversationally.
"I don't care," Cordelia scowled. "She's an idiot. Thinks she knows everything because of her nancy pureblood parents. Should've been sorted into Hufflepuff with the other gossip-mongers and bottle-blondes."
"That's a little harsh, isn't it?" said Eliza.
"No," said Cordelia sullenly.
There was a brief silence, which Lily broke.
"I think I'm going to get dressed now," she said, and proceeded to crawl out of bed.
"I guess it's about time. It's eleven-thirty."
"Almost time for lunch."
Eliza yawned and stood. "I think I'm going to go down to the library. Anyone want to join me?"
"I will," said Cordelia. "Look up some more curses to try out on Cranfield. Lily?"
"Nah," said Lily; "I think I'll go for a walk."
"It's going to rain," Eliza noted, nodding toward the window.
Lily shrugged. "Then it'll be a quick walk. I'll see you two later," she added as her friends walked out the door.
Lily finished dressing, grabbed her cloak, and left. The common room was all but deserted, and she found her way out of the castle without meeting anyone but a couple of Ravenclaw upper formers who seemed quite engrossed in each other.
Outside, it was cool and breezy and dark. The thunderheads rolling in through the mountains were an awesome sight, a thousand different shades of grey and black, limned above with the gold of the hidden sun, and lit at odd moments with flashes of lightning that washed the entire valley in an unearthly light.
Lily started down the sloping eastern lawn toward the forested side of the lake. There was a narrow hidden path there between the edge of the water and the tree line, and this was where Lily headed. She didn't notice the slim, cloak-draped figure following her until she was well down the path and he caught up.
"This is cutting it rather close, isn't it?"
She gave a shriek and dove for her wand before she realized it was only Remus.
"Oh, my God," she cried, "you scared the life out of me!"
He laughed softly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. You're brave, though, walking so close to the Forest. How are you feeling?"
"I think I'll recover," she said gravely, placing a hand over her heart.
"No, I mean – you missed the meeting this morning."
Lily grimaced. "Oh. That."
"You sick?"
"No, just tired," she replied, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. "Detention last night."
Remus fell in step beside her. "Sirius told me about that."
"At length, I'm sure," Lily said, almost bitterly.
"He's not mad at you."
Lily snorted. "Well, I'm glad of that!"
Beside her, Remus frowned. "Sarcasm?"
"Of course. Did he tell you how we got detention?"
"You punched him in the mouth."
Lily drew a quick breath, ready to protest, but Remus hadn't finished.
"I'm sure, though, that it was provoked."
"Was it ever."
"Care to share?"
Lily shrugged, bumping Remus as she did. The narrow path brought them closer together. "They were dangling this poor second-year by her ankle in the corridor. I made them stop. Sirius made some snarky comment, and I snapped."
Remus paused, and Lily stopped as well and turned to face him. "What?"
His expression was rueful. "You're better at it than I am. Being a prefect. I can't control them at all."
"What makes you think that I can?" said Lily, feeling surprised and flattered at his frank admission.
"Well, no one can keep them in line, I admit – but at least you try. I – "
He stopped, turned away.
"I understand," Lily said softly, and patted his arm. "They're your friends. And they're overwhelming to begin with. I'd do no better, were I in your position."
He glanced over his shoulder to smile at her. "Thank you."
Lily smiled back. "You're welcome."
They resumed walking, and Remus slipped his arm through Lily's, ostensibly to ward off the escalating chill of the wind.
"So," she said eventually, when they were halfway round the back side of the lake, "anything eventful happen at the meeting?"
She felt him shrug. "Still the debate over the music. I couldn't really care less."
"Me neither."
"And the Slytherins were making a fuss over decorations."
Lily tripped. "Snape was fussing over – "
But Remus was laughing. "Bellatrix, I mean. She wants dancing skeletons and giant mutated bats flapping around. And spiders. She actually proposed subduing an acromantula – "
"No!"
"Exactly what the rest of us said. Even Snape agreed. I saw him yelling at her when they were leaving."
"He was yelling at her?" Lily echoed in surprise.
"Well, not yelling – I couldn't hear him at all, actually – but he was definitely berating her. You know how he gets."
"And how did she react?"
"She looked furious."
Lily smirked. "I'll bet so. Um. Was there anything they needed me to do?"
"Well, Bellatrix wants you to come to a meeting later this evening."
Lily was alarmed. She had a defence lesson with Snape later on. "What time? Did she say?"
"Six."
"Oh, I can't do that!" said Lily. "That's right after dinner!"
"What's right after dinner?"
"Um. I'm, ah…."
Remus looked amused now, and nudged her in the side. "Keeping secrets?" he said softly, and Lily blushed.
"I – Remus, I shouldn't – "
He jostled her gently. "Don't tell if you don't want to," he said.
Lily felt a surge of gratitude, and wondered suddenly: Why was she being so secretive? It wasn't as if she lambasted the Slytherins in front of her friends; as a matter of fact, she made it clearly known that she abhorred inter-house prejudices. And Remus was growing ever closer to her – why shouldn't she tell him what was going on? Because he'd tell James and Sirius? She had the feeling that he wouldn't. Remus wasn't the kind of boy to betray a confidence.
So she took a leap of faith.
"Do you want to know?"
Remus stopped walking. "Only if you want to tell," he said seriously. "I don't want to push you."
"Believe me, you aren't," said Lily. "Only I have to tell someone. And I don't see why I've been keeping it a – well, never mind that; I know exactly why I haven't told anyone. If it gets back to the boys…."
"It won't," he promised, and she was glad he wasn't offended that she needed him to give his word.
She was silent for a moment before licking her lips.
"I'm taking defence lessons with Snape."
For a moment, she regretted telling – his eyes widened momentarily, and she felt him begin to move back – but then he came even closer and tightened his grip on her arm.
"Well, I can see why you didn't want to say anything about it," he said, and she burst into nervous giggles. "James and Sirius would kill him."
"So you don't disapprove?" she wanted to know, once her brief bout of hysteria had subsided.
"Lily, I have deep, dark secrets of my own," he said. "And frankly, I agree with you that Slytherins aren't to be avoided like the plague. I do question the wisdom of taking defence lessons from Snape – "
Lily, though she'd resolved not to, stiffened a little at the thought of criticism.
" – but I trust your judgement. And after all, there's no one who knows the Dark arts better than Snape."
Lily hugged closer to Remus. It felt wonderful to walk with him this way, and she had to wonder how much she enjoyed it. Would he interpret her proximity as a request for something more, or was he also content just to walk arm-in-arm? Inwardly she squirmed. Her feelings toward her friend were very warm, and she felt she could easily fall for him. He was the perfect fellow, sweet and courteous, and exactly the kind her mother would want her to end up with.
But something deep down told her that it'd never work between them, that his relationship with her was more fraternal than anything else. And she felt safer in that assumption, because as a brother he could provide for her in a way that a boyfriend couldn't. In the realm of Lily's admittedly limited experience, boyfriends were a rather temporary thing. She couldn't name a single couple that had married once they'd left Hogwarts, or even stayed together more than the span of the nine months they were at school. But siblings – even makeshift ones – lasted years.
An explosion of light, followed shortly by a resounding blast of thunder that continued to reverberate in her ribcage even after it had growled down, hailed the first of the icy raindrops. Three-quarters of the way around the lake, they glanced at each other, identical Oh-Merlin expressions on their faces, and, firmly gripping one another's hands, they made a run for it.
They were soaked by the time they reached the front doors, and stumbled into the warmly-lit entrance hall, freezing cold, dripping all over the glistening marble floors and laughing like a pair of children. They quieted down when they saw the mess they'd made, and, using their wands to clean up and dry off, they walked into the Great Hall together for lunch.
Lily felt particularly freed, having finally told someone her secret. She was in such good spirits that she even told herself that she didn't care whether James and Sirius found out, which was, of course, a lie, but she was feeling quite optimistic and ready to take on anything. This sentiment was only reinforced by a stomach full of delicious, hot Hogwarts food, and she spent the rest of the afternoon in an agreeable daze, which amused Remus to no end.
It wasn't until five o'clock or so that she began to come down from this psychological high and gather her wits for the evening's lesson. She unobtrusively parted company with her friends in the common room, complaining of a headache, and grinned when Remus gave her a reassuring wink. Then she climbed out the portrait hole, ostensibly on a quest for a headache tonic.
The familiar painting of Archibald the Lightheaded waved to her as she passed it and entered the classroom. Snape was waiting for her there, standing in the middle of the torch-lit room, and when he saw her, his eyebrows shot up.
"Evans, you look dreadful."
Lily's lip curled into an uncharacteristic sneer. The effects of the good mood she'd been most of the day were wearing off quite a bit sooner than she had thought they would. No doubt she did look a mess – she hadn't touched her hair since she'd come in from the rain, and she knew it was frizzing crazily – and this was before she even considered the bruised look she'd suffered all day, due from the harrying events of the previous evening and the restless night that followed. "Thanks, Snape."
He didn't respond to her sarcasm, though, and astonished her by asking: "What happened?"
She was shocked speechless for a moment. She hadn't expected he'd inquire after her health; what was she supposed to say now? Oh, she should've guessed he'd be curious as to why she didn't attend the prefects' meeting – but she didn't think he'd care about what happened to her. Accordingly, she was so taken aback that she ended up telling him the truth, despite realizing halfway through how mortifying it was to admit that once again she'd been taken by surprise by a hex. By the end of her tale, he was scowling.
"Lestrange talked to me, too," he said, lips thin and white. "Didn't dare curse me, of course – I find it incredible to believe that after everything I've taught you, you'd still let him do that."
Lily was indignant. "But – "
"I told you that this was going to happen," Snape interrupted. "That's why I insisted that you take these lessons."
When Lily finally found her tongue she managed to ask the question that had been clamouring for a real answer for the past two weeks.
"Why do you even care?"
He responded immediately and predictably. "I don't."
"But – "
"Let's get going on this lesson," he interrupted curtly. "I don't want to be here all night."
Lily mumbled something sarcastic under her breath, and Snape didn't hesitate in whipping around and binding her throat with a solid Gag Jinx.
"Why don't we practice without words this evening," he suggested forcefully, and she glared at him and drew her wand.
She'd caught on sooner than she thought she would, though by the end of the two and a half hours they'd run over she'd only managed four hexes and two successful blocking spells without actually speaking the words. When Snape lifted the Gag Jinx, she coughed a bit to clear her throat, shook her mussed hair back, and tucked her wand away.
Interestingly enough, she was in a much better mood now, even though she'd not had much success in mastering wordless spells. She couldn't help but smile as she rubbed out the aches she'd developed from the numerous attacks she's unsuccessfully blocked. "That was fun," she said.
Snape snorted. "Fun? You must've fallen over fifty times."
"But I managed to hit you with that Bat Bogey hex."
"Barely," Snape sneered, but she detected the barest hint of a smile around the vicinity of his mouth.
"Barely, my foot," Lily said confidently. "Your face was flapping."
"All right, gloat," said Snape, and Lily laughed, twisting her head this way and that so her vertebrae made a succession of noisy cracks.
"Stop that. You're making my neck hurt. Here – sit down."
He levitated a chair toward her, and she grabbed it before it could float past. She did not sit, however.
"Why?" she said suspiciously.
"No sense in walking about with a mass of bruises all over."
Lily raised an eyebrow. "It's the middle of October, Snape. It's not like I'm in short sleeves all the time."
"Don't be stubborn. Sit down."
Lily sat.
He came up behind her, and she felt goosebumps ripple down the suddenly-chilled flesh of her back as he tugged on the collar of her blouse, pulling it down in the back in order to get to the injuries in question. Her teeth clenched as the tip of his wand found the worst spot, the vertebrae prominens, which she was sure she'd fractured when she'd fallen the night before, and where the skin had gone a lovely shade of blue-violet (she had seen it herself in the bathroom mirror that morning; it was dreadful). There was a painful bit of pressure, and the ache disappeared as immediately as if it had been Banished. Lily couldn't help but gasp.
Snape heard her. "What, you thought I couldn't do it?"
"No – it just…."
She trailed off and let him tend to her other visible bruises, and the not-so-visible ones he had to find himself. And before Lily could get a grip, this simple healing was rapidly becoming something quite different. She gradually became aware of a warmer, rougher sort of touch accompanying that of his wand as his fingers brushed hesitantly over the pale skin of her shoulders, and to her bewilderment she felt herself begin to warm.
A moment later, for no apparent reason, he drew back as if burned. Lily made a soft noise of protest, turned halfway and caught at his hand. "You missed one," she told him, and gingerly touched the back curve of her skull. He looked rattled, and she dropped her eyes and turned again, heart beating fast and breath threatening to get away from her.
His hand had just brushed the surface of her red hair when the door exploded inward.