A/N: Oh my gosh, sorry it's been so long. I promised myself I'd update on the last day of school, but then, my brain turned off and I guess I got lazy. And, I, being the royal procrastinator that I am, put it off till now. I swear I won't put this off for a long time anymore. (Or, I'll try, at least.) Any who, this chapter is much longer than the ones before it, so I hope that you like it better for the length.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be mine. Unless obviously, you want to buy it for me.
"Mum, for the billionth time today, NO, I DO NOT LIKE JAMES POTTER AT ALL!" Lily was all but shouting by that point.
Her face was matching (and maybe even darker than) the color of her hair, her Irish accent was becoming more pronounced, and she was on the verge of banging her head against the table in sheer frustration, but her mother, was as cool as a cucumber.
Her blonde hair was perfectly smooth in its neat bun, and her eyes blue were calm and slightly crinkled up at the corners, which gave her a very motherly and comforting presence.
"Now, Lily, give the boy a chance. He might not be so bad," she said calmly, which just infuriated Lily even more.
"No mum. He is an absolute, arrogant, bull-headed, cocky, over-confident toerag," Lily said firmly, refusing back down.
"Alright, if you insist, but now, you need to get ready for your rehearsal. Should I drive?" Daisy asked cheekily.
"NO! I'll drive. You two stay put," Lily exclaimed, gladly escaping from the interrogation room (more commonly known as the kitchen.)
If her mother drove, then she would have to put up with more talk about Potter. School was bad enough with all the little squealing girls gushing and mooning over him, just because he was the Quidditch captain. And they wondered why he had a gargantuan ego.
"Alright, alright," Rose sighed. "See, Mark, she won't even take advice about boys from her own mummy," she fake-pouted.
Deciding it was best not to linger, Lily nearly sprinted down the hall to her room, snatched the car keys, and slung her dance bag over her shoulder. It was only at the last minute that she tucked her willow wand in the waist band of her shorts.
"I'm going, you two stay put!" Lily called over her shoulder as she turned on the car.
It was not the fact that Lily didn't have an apparition license that kept her from apparating, because she had passed her test with flying colors, or the fact that she found apparition uncomfortable, but more the fact that she preferred driving. Driving places the good old Muggle way gave her time to just take in her surroundings and catch her breath in her crazy life.
Parking carefully, she got out of the blue family car and stepped into the conservatory. She tried to sneak inconspicuously through the room as the beginner class was going on, but failed miserably, because she was wearing a hot pink top, short jean shorts and her ballet bag was bright green. The little four and five year olds ogled at her, and Lily heard one of them whisper, "Mary Kate told me that girl is the one who will be doing the opening solo in the big recital!"
She struggled to suppress the blush that rose to her cheeks when she heard that as she slipped into the locker rooms to be greeted by tense and jealous nods.
Ever since before the audition, that was how things had been. The competition for everything was tough and some girls here would kill to have the solo. They all knew Lily disappeared off to some private school for nearly ten months, give or take a few weeks for Christmas and Easter, but they spent nearly all their time at the conservatory, which was highly unfair. However, what they didn't realize was that Lily did practically the same thing at her "private school for nerdy snobs."
History of Magic, her last class of the day was by far the most stressful class she had. The other kids in the entire school found it a great place to catch up on sleep, pass notes, or play exploding snap, but Lily did neither of these things.
Her time was consumed by finishing homework for all her previous classes, keeping track of her notes for History of Magic, making sure Marlene didn't throw spitballs at professor Binns to see if they would go through him, ignoring Pettigrew, Potter, Black, and Snape, forcing Mary to stay awake, keeping fights from breaking out between Marlene and Black, keeping Black at the opposite end of the room, (or at least trying to), and stemming the flow of notes between Frank and Alice. Then she would fill in holes in her History of Magic notes (dates that Binns didn't mention) with her textbook, and make a copy for Remus if she had to. Then, she would ask Emmaline and Dorcas to cover for her, and she would slip off to the Room of Requirement to practice ballet.
She would hide away for an hour and a half or so and just dance her socks off. It was her routine. On weekends, she would do her homework on Saturday, rest with her friends on Sunday, and go throughout the whole week all over again. It was exhausting, but it was that kind of dedication and work ethic that got her the opening solo in the recital.
"Oh, look, it's the soloist," A mean natured voice said to her. If Lily didn't have better things to worry about, she would have been riled up. But she had a bigger fish to fry.
Years of arguing with Potter had taught her how and when to hold her tongue, if nothing else, so Lily sat down and continued adjusting the elastic on her ballet shoes as if she hadn't heard.
"Where do you disappear off to every year anyway?" The girl, Rosella, persisted.
"I go to school. Although, I doubt you know what that is," Lily said with a hard edge to her voice. It was nowhere near as obvious as if she was talking to the Marauders or Severus, but still definitely detectable.
"I can't believe you said that," she gasped, looking offended. Lily tried not to roll her , arguing with someone as bullheaded as that Potter boy for six years made arguing with other people so much easier. It was now an easy task to get people to shove off with just one well placed remark.
She finished her bun with ease and went to join the class to warm-up.
"Ok, now we're going to run through the program from the beginning," Madam Fontaine called out after they finished their exercises.
Lily took her place on the floor and waited for the pianist to start playing the opening bars to the music. The soft tinkling of the piano reached her ears, and her feet magically began dancing.
Her heart was in her toes as she did her series of leaps and spins. This was what she was meant to do. This was what she was born to do. Attitude… hold it…control…control… and…yes… land that… point that toe… perfect. She floated gracefully through the choreography, moving herself in perfect time with the tempo of the music ignoring the painful blisters growing on her feet. She couldn't help the grin that split her face. This was heaven.
The music dwindled to a halt and she struck her ending pose. The solo part was done. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw the others take their places, as the pianist stated an upbeat piece. This part of the recital, Lily reflected, was much easier than the solo for whatever reason.
When they finished their run through and fixed most of their mistakes, run through everything again, adjusted some minute details, and went through short chunks of everything, the class was finally dismissed. Lily threw an entire liter bottle of water down her throat in about two gulps. Sweet Merlin, that was tiring. As content as she was just sitting on that bench, she had to get back home. Reality was waiting.
Sighing she got up and made her way down the stairs and to her car. It was getting dark out, and in her current paranoid state, every shadow seemed to be a Death Eater waiting to strike, every whisper in the wind was a spy, and every flicker of movement made her jump.
This would never work. She had to pull herself together in order to function properly. Come on Lily, she encouraged herself, pull it together. You can do it, calm down. You're going to be absolutely useless to everyone in this state, and that doesn't bode well for you.
But the hair on the back of her neck still rose uncomfortably, and she still couldn't help her uncharacteristic jumpiness. And the worst thing was that she didn't know what was making her that way. Initially, she dismissed it as "just nerves," but after a while, she couldn't deny that that was something was up.
"Hello there," a soft, and painfully, heartbreakingly familiar voice whispered in her ear. Her heart leapt to her throat. This could not be happening. Please, don't let this be happening. She hand involuntarily went towards the wand in her waist.
"Now, now, now, that isn't necessary," the voice whispered again.
"Severus," she whispered. Lily didn't know whether to be terrified of what her ex-friend had become, or upset that her had gone over to the dark side. In the end, she settled for angry that he would still have the nerve to still talk to her.
"You have one minute to tell me what you want," she said, her voice sounding much braver than she felt as she turned around to face him.
He was wearing all black as usual, so his pale face stood out against the setting sun. His hair was still (and maybe more) greasy than when she had left on the Hogwarts express. In fact, his appearance hadn't changed much since she had left at the end of term, but his expression was more twisted, and there was something in his face that made her stop dead in her tracks.
It was barely detectable to anyone who hadn't known him as well as she did. She had been his best friend for seven years, and nobody knew him better than she did. She had learned to read his nearly nonexistent expressions as easily as she could read books. But this new, twisted, hateful expression was one she had never seen before. And frankly, it scared her.
"Ah, well you see, my flower," he began silkily. Lily almost punched him in the face for having the nerve to call her that. Her hand moved towards her pocket again, only to realize her wand was gone.
"What, no 'mudblood'?" She asked dryly, strengthening her defenses. There was no way she was going to let him get to her.
"You know I didn't mean that!" he exclaimed pathetically.
"Next thing you'll tell me is that your hair is green, you liar!" She said with a steely edge to her voice.
"You might like to watch your tongue," he sneered, losing his temper as well. It was only slightly longer than her own. "Because it seems that you are missing something." He pulled out a willow wand for his shirt pocket. "Recognize this?"
Lily had to suppress a gasp. "You have one minute to tell me what you want," she repeated more forcefully.
"You are in no position to make deals," he practically hissed. "I will talk, but not here. We'll go to this place I found. I do not like to be overheard."
"If you want to talk to me, you will do it here, in the open. Where we can see each other and people can see us."
"Sounds as if you almost don't trust me," he said, but stopped at her rather unimpressed face.
"Cut to it, Snivellus!" Lily shouted, her frustration at not know if her friends were alright or not, her anger at Voldemort for being a (to put it gently) git, and her hurt at his betrayal, all exploding out of the little box she hid all her bitter feelings in. The next thing she knew, she was writhing in horrible pain on the ground. ,
"Excruciating pain", or ,"Hurt like hell," didn't even begin to describe the feeling. It was like the words were from a language too naïve, to know what she was going through at the moment.
It was like white hot knives were cutting her flesh while she was being electrocuted by high voltage wires as she was walking on burning coal. Her brain was unable to function properly. Through the blinding, horrible, torturous pain, she heard a long, high pitched, drawn out scream. She assumed it was hers.
And then finally, after what felt like a million light-years, it mercifully ended. Her cheeks felt a little wet. She touched it and saw blood, tears and dirt on her cheek. She must have scraped it when she had fallen to the ground without it registering in her royally frazzled brain.
Trembling from head to toe and breathing as if she had just run a marathon in ten minutes, she tried to struggle into a relatively upright position, but her very bones screamed in protest. So, instead, she managed to gather the remnants of her pride spit on Se- what's-his-name's shoes.
"Take that as a warning. The Dark Lord does not like to be rejected," he said, leaning over her. His voice seemed to be trying to imply a double meaning, and his expression was still slightly demented, but Lily thought that she saw shadows of regret, guilt, and terror in his eyes. Then he dropped her wand by her head, administered a swift kick to her still throbbing back, and disappeared into the shadows.
A/N: I know what y'all are thinking. 'Why would Snape do that? I thought he liked Lily.' Well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Don't worry though; it's nothing personal to Snape. I like him well enough.
Love,
Ice