A/N: I'm sorry about the lame delay. October equals Death. Half of November was spent bringing me back to life. I'm back now. Hope your not too disappointed.
Frayedsoul, Ms. Tree Sap, geka0taitsume0taikaiyou-Thanks much!
Vendetta- There won't be a happy ending. Sorry. But I felt I should warn you now. Romantic: yes. Happy: no. TRANSLATION! Really? Oh sure! I'm flattered.
Euripides- Your too sweet…(blush)
Fake Is the New Real- I'm quite happy that your socks have, indeed, been rocked.
The Unbreakable Snape Fan- Woot! Thanks for your feedback. It was really great looking back at all of the little things you were talking about. I'm glad you approve of certain decisions I made, like not making Tobias evil, and doing a songficced chapter.
She-Elf- Smattering. Fun word.
Hope your bum feels better. Glad you laughed though. If you still want to proofread, just send me an email But if you have as much stuff to do as I do, my advice is to study for that psychology exam. Gosh knows I should be doing that right now…
GothicSidhe- That's so weeeeeird! I'm glad it's close to reality because I've never been in either of those situations, so I took a while imagining what it would be like… meh… Smoking monitor? Oh, no! I hope it'll be ok when if I do a smutty scene. Teehee, glad you liked it.
Autumn Snowfall- Thanks, I'm glad you like it!
Isabelle Adamowitz- I might get myself into trouble by replying to you. Mmmmm… yes and maybe. Yeah, I suppose that's cryptic enough. Thanks for reviewing!
Thomas Hobbs- Better to have loved and lost…
Pikaf- Buggar, you're getting better at this.
Hmm… I can neither confirm nor deny that there is evidence in this entirely blank file of paper I'm currently holding that a sex scene will or has ever existed. WINK.
Melkor-the-Morgoth- I'm glad you liked the chapter. Heh, I hadn't really realized how much of a cliffhanger this was until I posted it really. Hope you didn't mind too much. (I wanna have coffee now… I wonder why…)
I'm a little embarrassed to say that we didnot have sex last night. It started off good, with a slow sort of tango to the bedroom, kissing and stumbling up the stairs. But once we hit the bed we were both out cold. We didn't even bother to take off our socks.
The sunlight is streaming through tall windows across Severus' down bed. My head feels like it has split in two, and my nice shirt is crumpled and wrinkled and smelly. Snape is snoring. It isn't as loud as my father's snore but it still woke me up.
"Shush," I say, nudging his shoulder.
Snape wriggles in the sheets, finds a more comfortable place on the pillow and snorts, "Hmmmm… sorry."
There's a small sheen of sweat on his forehead; the room is mildly hot from the sticky morning sun. His nose is rubbing against the soft white pillow; hair is sticking out in all directions, but a small gleam of white neck blushes the sunlight. It beckons me. I kiss the exposed neck, that soft but strong space underneath his earlobe. Even though my nostrils fill with the unnatural stench of scotch, the slight peck becomes languid, open-mouth kisses, down that muscle to the soft collarbone.
He sighs, "Feel's nice." He buries his head into my chest and bowls me over. I've become his pillow.
"Hey, who said you could use me as a teddy-bear?"
He mutters something indistinct.
"Huh?"
"I did."
"Oh."
I squirm, turning to find that magical alarm clock. It reads 9:40.
"Who said teddy-bears could move?"
"I did."
He bites my neck in response. It's a light pinch at the space between my neck and shoulder, sending shocks of pleasure down my spine. My hips rub against his. But I'm still half-awake and can hardly move from my headache.
I groan a little.
"Mmm…" Severus hums in my ear. "Me too. Do you want some aspirin?"
I groan again, in a more affirmative fashion.
He reaches across me, toward the bed stand on the right side. His weight is warm and welcome on my abdomen. My hands wander ever-so slightly to the small of his back. His weight feels so much lighter than Lily's, except it doesn't… Lily's weight is that of bubbles and water balloons and fruit… Severus is a hard muscle and edges, a firm stomach and bony back.
I hear jiggling sounds of pills inside of jars as he fumbles through what looks like twenty bottles of drugs.
"You take all those?"
Severus raises an eyebrow at me and gives me a look that plainly says: Wouldn't you like to know? He picks up one bottle, and tosses it aside. "Perhaps."
"But what on earth for?"
"It's birth control."
I snort.
He finally hands me a little blue pill. I stare at it, in the middle of the palm of my hand. "How do you know this isn't… acid… or something?"
He rolls his eyes at me. "Because I do."
"But how do you…"
"Because I made it, you dopey Gryffindor!" Snape finally snaps at me. Apparently his headache is as bad as mine. "And I wouldn't put acid next to my birth control pills."
"You're so odd," I swallow the blue pill, without getting a glass of water, "but I trust you."
He watches me as I down it, and solemnly takes one himself. His eyes are on me the whole time. "If you must know," he says as if I had continued to ask annoying questions, "Ido dabble in muggle pharmacology. And it is quite illegal. By their laws anyway." Suddenly I remember last night's conversation with Mad-Eye and Albus, and how I had asked him quickly if he had ever tried muggle medicine.
"Oh, well I doubt it would've…"
"Gotten me into trouble with Moody and Dumbledore? Of course it would have!" Snape's eyes are wide and oddly mischievous. "I'm not allowed to make pills! I haven't got a doctoral degree. I just wanted to see how it worked… you know… see if some muggle medicine can rival potions."
"Can they?"
"Oh, yes," his eyes are glittering even more energetically. "Sometimes I don't think they even realize how brilliant they are. Have you ever heard of penicillin?"
"Er… no…"
"It's an antibiotic. It heals infections almost as well as a wound-cleaning potion!" Snape's eyes are not only glittering, his whole face is lit up with academic excitement. What a geek. "Muggles have a much more truthful understanding of how the body functions. You see, healers depend on alchemy, and most of the time that works, but… muggles! They know the sickness, sometimes molecule-by-molecule and target the cure directly by that."
"You know you really sound like a potions-dork right now. Forgive me if my layman's mind doesn't quite comprehend everything…"
"And aspirin is quite easy to make!" Severus beams. "Much easier than a head-ache curing potion, and asphodel isso expensive these days…"
"You're not… prescribing these things to people are you?"
Snape blinks, "Oh, no! No…" he sounds honest at least. "Besides… you know… me… and you…"
"Hmmm…" I let it go. He's telling me the truth, at least about this group of pills. I let out a huge lion-yawn. "You may know how to make aspourin. But I know the best way to cure a headache." I lay my head on his soft down pillow, sniffing the scent of Severus' hair on it.
"And how would you cure a headache, Prince Potter?"
"By taking a nap."
"Mmm…" Severus buries his head on my shoulder, curling against me, our toes touch through the fabric of our socks, "that does sound like a good idea…"
"I know… I'm brilliant."
I wonder if he knows that I'm being sarcastic.
After a few moments of resting my eyes I'm already drifting in the space between dreams and consciousness. My knees bend around his limbs. Severus is curled against me, fitting into my body like some thick, expensive down blanket. His wet breath is rhythmic against a soft patch of my neck. The sun warms my eyes. It feels like I've just fallen asleep, when a great noise wakes me up again.
"Severus," I mumble, "Whatssat?"
He groans and buries his head deeper in my neck like how an ostrich would bury into the sand. He's squeezing my middle rather tightly.
Footsteps? Someone is pitter-pattering up the stairs at an alarming rate…
"Sev…" I whisper more urgently. "Somebody's here…"
"Wait…" he grunts, "is today… Wednesday?"
And suddenly, far too suddenly, there are limbs and feet on the bed. There is jumping. There is giggling. There is poking. A tiny pair of feet land on my abdomen. A childish voice is shouting in rhythm with his jumping on the bed.
"SEVERUUUUUUUUUUUUUS!"
Jump. Jump. Jump.
My heart has landed somewhere in my throat due to fright. What is this foul creature doing in this bed? Who else on earth knows Severus by his first name anyhow? Besides his mother, and Lily… and, of course, me… But what kid would know him by his first name.
The jumping. Won't. Stop.
Merciful heavens make it go away.
"UNCLE SEVY! Wake up!"
The voice of a five-year-old is cracking my skull open. I can't see a thing because my glasses are on the bedside table.
"Don't call me that, child," growls Snape as he rolls into a sitting position. "I'm not your uncle and if I was I would be embarrassed."
The child sits on my stomach. Everything is a blur, but I can make out flaming red hair. I grab for my glasses.
"And never call me 'Sevy' again."
"Yeesthsir," the child says. "Who's this?" I feel a tiny finger on my forehead. "A frieeeeeend?"
I can taste bile on my tongue.
"Sitting on people is rude, you know." Severus is taking off his shirt and placing a new one his shoulders, black by the looks of it. "So is pointing."
Finally, I place my glasses on my nose. A freckly, baby-faced boy is grinning down at me, thrusting his hand towards my chest.
"My name's Barry Evens. Nice to meet you," he says, a smile ear to ear.
I shake his little hand; it's half the size of mine.
"James Potter. And nice to meet you too," I lie.
Severus is looking at us both sulkily over his shoulder. His black shirt makes him seem much more severe than five minutes ago.
"Why are you here an hour early? And sitting on people is stillrude!"
Barry Evens wriggles off me. "Mum said she had to go to the store early. She'll pay you extra!" He notices Severus' annoyed expression. "Sorry…" he mumbles.
Severus' face softens at that.
I start, sitting up, "Barry, you're not related to Lily, are you?"
"Um," he gives a glance at Snape, "No… I'm not a flower."
Snape snorts.
"Not lilies. Lily Evans is friend of his," Severus turns toward me. "No, he's not."
I ponder at the boy, "Really? You're sure he's not a cousin or something? He's got the same red hair…"
"Spell your name for the gentleman," says Snape with a sigh.
"B-A-Double R-Y! E-V-E-N-S!" sings Barry at the top of his small lungs, bouncing on the bed wildly up and down.
"Very good," says Snape. "Go wash. I'll be down in a minute."
"Yesthsir!" says Barry. His thunderous footsteps recede down the steps. He's singing his name at the top of his lungs, still.
Severus gives me an apologetic glance, a slight blush on his cheeks. "I'm teaching him potions. I tutor him on Wednesdays, I'm terribly sorry I forgot…"
"Severus Snape, you are a man full of surprises."
He raises an eyebrow, smiling bemusedly.
"Who would have thought you were a babysitter!"
Seconds later he has me in a death-grip. His arm is around my neck and I can't stop laughing. "Whassat?"
"Mr. MOM!" I choke out through my laughter…
Severus drives his knuckles into my skull, sending my already askew black hair into more chaos. We wrestle like nine-year-olds, sending sheets and blankets and pillows in every which direction. I pin him to the bed, holding both wrists.
A fresh wave of arousal hits me as his firm stomach is pressed flush against mine. I bend down for a small, wet kiss. His lips are cold and wet and soft, and I bend my head back from his mouth to resist going further. I hardly think Barry would appreciate me humping him into the mattress, "I should go."
Slight anxiety passes over his face, his eyebrows furrow. "You… don't have to! Stay and have breakfast at least…"
I stare at my hand that is still gripping his small white wrist. "Alright…"
…This could get messy…
"But just for breakfast."
Needless to say, four hours later I'm still hanging around Uncle Sevy and B-A-Double-R-Y. We're in the midst of making a sleeping draught. I'm doing the cutting while Severus is instructing, and Barry is… sniffing things and sticking non-appropriate things in his mouth. Like Beetle eyes.
"You know… Severus…" I say delicately, inhaling some of the mold of Severus' oh-so-dungeon-like basement, "this seems a little complex for someone his age."
"Poppycock!" Severus says, lifting his chin defiantly, his pale face gothic and impressive in the semi-darkness.
Barry and I giggle.
"Oh… you two," he shakes his head, "this isn't as bad as the Draught of Living Death, and he has to learn how to properly squeeze sopophorous beans!"
But Barry has the attention span of a caffeinated mouse. He much prefers singing gruesome, morbid songs about dead things in jars than learning how to properly handle a knife. Whenever I speak, the boy turns his head the other way. Kids need to learn to respect their elders.
Oddly enough Severus has a knack for gaining Barry's undivided attention. He does this mostly by lowering his voice, until it is so low that Barry has to look at him wide-eyed and read his lips. "Without cutting yourself. You need to hold the knife sideways and place your palm firmly on it." He demonstrates with his butcher knife. Severus also doesn't fill his instructions with drabble and fluff like Slughorn did, every word is important and if you don't pay attention something might go wrong.
He hands him a plastic-pink knife, and Barry does exactly what he had done.
"Good job."
Barry Evens simply beams at Severus' praise. He then smiles at me as if to say, and you thought I couldn't do it! Little shit…
"I have to go to the bathroom," says Severus. "Don't blow up the basement, will you?"
I eye Barry warily. It is well within his grasp.
Snape leaves the room all too quickly.
Barry and I look at each other.
As slow and as evilly as the Grinch himself, Barry smiles. "SEVY! SEVY! HE HIT ME!"
My eyes are as wide as saucers. "I…"
"No, he didn't," Severus says from the other room.
Barry pouts. He swings his legs on the stool and sniffs at the sophorous bean juice. His blue eyes read "malevolent" as he looks at me. "I'm bored."
"You're being boring," say I.
"Do something."
"Why don't you?"
"Teach me another potion."
My eyes shift over Severus' numerous jars of potions ingredients and dangerous scalpels. "Maybe we should wait for Severus to come back…"
"No!"
"How old are you, Barry?" Distraction is always the best tactic.
"Fayve." He holds up four fingers.
"Eh… one more…" I point at his thumb. He lifts his fifth finger, "There we go. Do you know how to count to ten, Barry?"
"Yes!"
"Show me."
"ONE-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-TEN!"
"Wow!" I say, trying, and failing, to look impressed. "Do you know how to do it in Japanese?"
"No… do you?" His blue eyes glitter. "That's cool!"
"I was bored one day, and someone taught me. Wanna learn?"
"Ok!"
"Ichi."
"Ichi."
"Ni."
"Ni."
"San."
"San."
Ok… this is a good way to get rid of… thirty seconds. Gods, why do kids have so much energy? I reply monotonously as my mind wanders about Severus. And why I don't want to stop being around him. I bet he thinks I'm pathetic. I've been following him around all night and all day like some bloody hound. I bet he wants to get rid of me once Barry leaves…
There's a tightness in my chest when I think of it that way…
"Jyuu."
"Jyuu."
"Now can you do all of them at once?"
"Em…"
"Ichi-ni-san-yon-go-roku-shichi-haichi-kyuu-jyuu," I say.
"Ichi-nichi-saa-yo-goo-boka…"
"That's quite enough," says Severus, wiping his hands on a dishtowel as he enters the room. "What are you teaching him, gibberish?"
A hollowed knock, knock, flitters down the stairs.
"Sounds like your mother's here," Severus hums, attempting in vain to hide the small twitch of relief in his eyebrows.
"Already?" Barry and I whine at once.
"'Fraid so."
Barry's blue eyes turn towards me. "Very nice to meet you, Mr. Barry Evens," I say over-eloquently stretching out a hand.
Barry Evens, surprisingly, hugs me round the middle. I pat his back, arms slinging down towards my waist awkwardly. Snape shakes his head, smilingly.
"Will I see you here again?" Barry demands.
"Er…"
Severus and I look at each other for a long moment. There's a softness in his gaze, and a slight blush in his cheek.
"Perhaps, Barry. Perhaps."
His blue eyes glow with anticipation. "Will you read me a story next time? And… and… do fun things?"
Severus looks even more embarrassed. Barry is quite demanding. I scratch the back of my head, "Em… sure."
Severus rubs his eyes with his palm, "Your mother's waiting."
Barry leaps into a hug with Severus, who awkwardly pats him on the head and shuffles him up the steps. I sit, perched like a flooper on stool, Severus' voice echoing through the ceiling.
"Here you are," when Severus returns he hands me a few galleons. "I split it fifty-fifty…"
"Oh, no!" I wave my hands in front of my chest, like how my grandmother used to when we tried to give her pepper-up potions. "No, no, no… you don't have to pay me! It's your job and I intruded…"
"You can't honestly say that it was a pleasure," Snape raised an eyebrow.
"But you did most of the sitting," I say in a high-pitched voice. Somehow it seems like the money is a sexual thing and I should coyly deny his advances like a princess to a savvy prince. "I just sat there and watched!"
"Oh, that's not true and you know it. I left you in the room alone with him. Just take the bloody money, will you?" Uh, oh, now he looks annoyed. Maybe he wants me to leave. "Stop being a modest mouse. You helped me a lot. I'm thanking you."
I tentatively take the gold pieces in my hand.
Severus turns from me, scourgifying the bottom of the cauldrons he used, tossing the elixirs back on shelves, washing his hands numerous times. "Why do you Gryffindor's have to be so bloody gracious all the time? You'd think you were talking to his bloody majesty…"
I grin, a little, knowing that Severus isn't really angry and he's only pretending that he's had his feathers ruffled. I lump the gold pieces in my pocket.
"Hum… I… probably… should go…" I say softly under the clang of the pots and pans.
Severus turns slowly, his soapy hands hanging over the caldron.
"It's late… and… I… my parents are probably worried…"
He smiles slightly, startling me in a pleasant sort of way. I thought he'd be upset…
His eyes twinkle as the rising water level in the caldron tips over the rim haphazardly.
"If you've got to go, you've got to go…"
Now. Wait. This is just odd. There's something mischievous in his grin. I can only compare it to a cat whose caught a mouse. His voice is positively singsong. "I'll see you around then," says Severus, still holding that dreadfully knowing smile.
I turn, feeling bemused and dejected. "See you," I mumble softly.
Whack!
A nasty, soapy sponge hits the side of my face.
When I turn around Severus is whistling. "YOU!"
A chaos of sponge throwing ensues. I get him in the stomach with the wet sponge he threw. Soap drips down my back after he gets me on the back of the head. A sponge that was probably aimed at my chest hits me square in the groin. I hear a shriek of laughter as I double over from shock. I charm a bucket of water to fall on top of his head.
We fall on the floor, in hysterics. "You!" I laugh outright. "You look like you just jumped out of the shower!"
"WELL YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'VE WET YOURSELF!"
We've been reduced to a giggling wet heap on the floor. Soft kisses are exchanged between chuckles. Giggle. Kiss. Giggle. Kiss. We're like a teenaged couple.
"Hmm…" says Severus, after one particularly long, slobbery kiss. He looks down at his crouch, where the fabric has become moist from rubbing against me. Another slow kiss, "You should probably go." What, go? Do I have to? His tongue invades my mouth, and he rubs up against me. Giggle, "You're chin's all stubbly." He scratches the side of my face with one long, white finger.
"That's because I'm oozing with masculinity."
He roles his eyes to the ceiling, and smiles in that "oh, you," sort of way. "Or because you've spent half the day here."
"Or that. But I tend to think my oozing masculinity is a tad more likely."
"Alright, Mr. Horny." He stands up slowly, passing a hand to lift me. I discreetly rub an arm against the wet patch on his trousers on the way up.
"Can I come by on Friday?"
"Of course."
My house has been so much emptier lately. I don't know why… the same three people are still living in it. It's just that my footsteps echo louder in the grand hall than they used to. The rooms seem so much bigger, the furniture less dusted, the lamps and books less warm. The house seems more… haunted of late, even though no one has died. The souls that travel through walls are as lonely and forlorn as my own.
It's been in my father's will for decades that this house is to be sold and turned into an orphanage when he dies. I will receive another property across town, closer to the square of Godric's Hollow. A sweet little cottage and a vast sum of money await my family when I'm ready to make one.
I don't mind. My father has always been a philanthropist and I really don't need the house anyway. Though I will miss Gimmly, my old house elf. She is getting on in years too, though. There's not much to miss but red carpets, 1920's furniture and supposedly haunted staircases. Even I can tire of the talking gargoyle by the fireplace.
I won't miss these halls. But I will miss the people in it.
A scratchy record is screeching out some twenties blues from the white room. I creep my way through the halls, socks catching on the rug, and peer in to find my elderly mother, dancing by herself.
"Mum… you know you shouldn't be doing that in heels by yourself. What if you fell again," my voice startles her a bit but she beams at me proudly.
"Codswallop. I'm fine. Where on earth have you been?"
She continues dancing, all pantyhose and low shirt and blues-style.
"Just at a fr-" I finally notice what music is playing.
"Now, she messed around with a bloke named Smoky,
She loved
him though he was cokey,
He took her down to Chinatown,
He
showed her how to kick the gong around!"
"I know that song!" I almost-shouted at my mother. "Minnie-the-Moocher, right? I don't remember this verse…"
She swings in her pointed-toe fifty heels, dancing to the beat of her own drum. She mischievously glances at me, a twinkle of a teenager behind graying eyes, "Your father…" she says spinning slowly, "wooed me with this song!" Her grin is wide in reaction to the half-exacerbation, half-embarrassment on my face.
"Wooed you?"
She smiles, her red lipstick stretching over her cracked, old lips.
"Like in Shakespeare?"
She snorts, grabbing my arm. We shuffle awkwardly; I never was much of a dancer.
"Hmm… you never were much of a dancer," says Mum. She lamely flings my arm back and forth as to loosen my grip. She places my other hand on her flabby hip, "Oh, James… no wonder she hasn't agreed to marry you yet! I haven't taught you how to dance!"
Ah… Lily…
My mother lately seems to have taken Lily's answer to my proposal as a personal insult. She never really liked her much… though there was the notion of yet. She hasn't agreed yet. Which leads my elderly mother to believe that if she could just improve her son somehow, make him more sensitive, teach him how to cook, make him do his chores, teach him how to sing and dance, then somehow Lily would fall back into his estrogen-ized arms. She would be wooed.
"One-two-three. One-two-three-ONE-two-three. Bother, this is so hard to do when you're not leading," my mother frowns at her feet, secretly wishing that she was as nimble as she had been fifty years ago, no doubt.
"Mum…" I whimper, needing her opinion.
"Maybe we should get some charts…"
"Mum…"
"Your father took a dance class. Maybe that would help you, dear?"
"Mum…"
She finally looks at me in the eyes, and the same brown irises meet.
"Do you think Lily really loves me?"
She raises one white eyebrow.
"It's just… I don't know… if she was certain, then why would she take so much time to decide?"
She shakes her head slowly, messy gray hair falling out of its bun. "I'm sorry Jamie, but they just don't make 'em like they used to." She takes a very long time to crouch down until her fragile hips hit the stool. Mum lets out a sigh, and puffs at a newly lit cigarette. I wait for her to elaborate.
"When I was your age. I was wooed. I fell in love. Then I got married. Then I had you. And now… here I am," She waves her wrinkled hands around, as if to establish and verify her existence. "But these young people… one day they love you… and the next… they've change their minds. My advice would be to stick with one person forever… but…"
She stares off into the distance and takes a drag of her cigarette.
"Do you love her?"
I blink, "I…" I cough slightly. "I thought I did."
"Now what?"
I frowned at my own hands. Here I am, James Potter. I'm destined to marry Lily Evans; I know that. I've known since I was eleven. Is this my fault? Am I bored of her? Do I really love Snape of all people?
How could I possibly admit to that?
"I don't know."
I shake my head. Have I fallen for someone else? Can a person really fall in love with someone other than his soul mate?
Mum shakes her head at me. "See what I mean? One day you love her, and the next you don't know." I feel a light tap on the backside of my head (much lighter than the slaps she gave me when she was younger). "Boy. No wonder she said no. You're as loyal as a muggle on Halloween."
I stare at my mother, worry evidently etched into my face. She softens.
"You like somebody else, don't you?"
My heart stops.
"H-h-how do you-?"
"A mother knows these things, Jamie. I can see it on your face. If you were really preoccupied with Lily you wouldn't be so damn euphoric. You're in love. Who is it?"
My eyes are wide. And I can't speak.
"Pre-marriage jitters," she smoked. "I'll be honest with you, Jamie, between your father asking me to marry him and me actually getting married, I flirted with another man. It was romantic…" but she flicks her wrist, siphoning off the remaining spirits of an unconventional love. "I love my husband, and I'll never regret marrying him."
I take a moment to breathe, sighing in the smoke deeply, "What should I do?"
"Figure it out." She said as though that were the most natural answer in the world. "Polygamy is not something wizards do."
I breathe out. Standing up, I excuse myself from her ex-raying motherly intuition.
I bloody hope Dad isn't this sharp…
When I reach the outside to get a breather I see something that brings no promise of solace…
Her red hair is just visible above the hedgerow. It glows like a rose among the dark leaves, yet I can't help the flaming feeling of foreboding in my chest. The sight of the love of my life calms me, but stresses me at the same time. My chest tightens, my breath grows quick, a slight blush is on my cheeks. Her beautiful figure, in khakis and a green sweater that matched her eyes, is slouching in annoyance. Lily was folding her arms under her breasts, positively glaring up at me. This is a bad sign…
"Where were you last night?"
"Eh…" I stutter, unnerved by the magical power that radiates off of her. Her green eyes are electric with suspicion and anger. There was no 'honey-bunch'ing or 'sweetums'ing my way out of it this time. "I was out with a friend…"
"The whole night?"
I gulped, "I drank quite a lot and then I slept at his place, why do you ask?"
"Why do I ask?" she said shrilly. "Because I've heard from reputable sources that you were going out with someone."
I sniff, doing the math in my head quickly, "Since when did you regard Sirius as a reputable source?"
Ooh… she doesn't like that. She clicked her heals together and straightened her back. "It wasn't just Sirius, Remus said it too…"
"Glad to know I have such loyal friends."
"So you did go out with someone. Who is she?"
"She?" My eyebrows pinch. Apparently they hadn't told her who I was cavorting with.
"The other woman! Who-Is-She?!" The corners of her eyes are becoming wet; she's nearing hysterics.
"Lily…" I say slowly and softly, "Li-Ly."
She's not remotely pacified.
"If you must know, I was hanging around someone from school… I think Remus and Sirius were… I dunno… jealous or something. You see… I haven't been hanging around them as much lately. To no fault of them, you know, I'm really busy… But now I'm hanging around somebody else and they're all mad at me… Don't be mad at me, Lils. They're just pulling your robes to get back at me."
She raises an eyebrow.
"Think about it logically, Evans. Why would I bother with another woman when I've already got the most beautiful witch in the world at my side?"
"I dunno…" she swallows, her freckled face becoming slightly red. "Because we haven't had sex in two months," she says in a low voice.
"So what? I masturbate. It's fine."
She snorts at my loud proclamation. I've got her laughing… it's a start…
"You're an idiot, Potter."
"I wouldn't mind remedying that situation though…"
"No."
She folds her arms again, scrutinizing my story. "So, then, tell me who this friend is. Who has Sirius and Remus jealous?"
I stare at her, suddenly tense.
"I… you won't believe me."
"Try me."
I gulp.
"IaddrinkswehSnape."
She cups a hair to her ear, mockingly.
"SNAPE! SNAPE! Ok!" I blurt out, suddenly for no reason, panicking. "Severus and I had drinks… Really! You people would think I'm some sort of Death Eater or something. We went out to a few bars and had some drinks."
"You're right. I don't believe you."
"Do you want photographs or a written confession? Bloody hell!"
"Both, if you have them."
She then, slowly, painstakingly, inch-by-inch, grins, "That was a good story, though. Good way to stay on my soft side."
"I'm telling the truth!"
"Where does he live, if you spent the night there?"
"Em… S-something… uh… Spin place, I think."
"Spinner's End, actually."
"How do you know where he lives?"
"We were friends at Hogwarts. My parents live right around the corner."
"Why do you not believe me?"
Lily then looked at me straight in the eyes, her powerful green eyes radiating into mine, her face as stoic as a tiger about to pounce on it's prey.
"Did you sleep with someone else?"
"No!"
"Did you go to a dodgy club?"
"No!"
"Did you kiss someone else?"
"No…"
We are practically nose-to-nose now. Her breath is on my chin.
"Did you cheat on me?"
"No!"
"Then why are your nostrils flared?"
Instinctively, before I can stop myself, my hand lifts to my nose, where my nostrils are as wide as wings on a plane. "I… Lily… wait!
But she's already turned her back on me.