A/N: Hello, readers! I'm finally dishing out chapter 16. This chapter is almost as long as chapter 8 but only off by a few hundred words (this chapter is around 9,700 words long. Ooer). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and I thought I should also make one thing clear because this has come up in about 3 reviews already and I'd just like to address it: This will be a long story. I'm sorry if its moving slowly for some of you and you may want a little more action but believe me, I know where I would like to go with the plot and the characters and all that good stuff so I'm asking nicely for a cut down on complaints about length. So if you don't like long stories, I suggest you stop reading now while you still can! But I will say this: the story will speed up a little bit after the foundation of Snape and Lily's strange relationship is set.
X Poison
A week had passed on slowly and Christmas Eve was finally here. The Snape household hadn't been festive for years. When he was younger, Severus remembered, there had been lights, and sweets to munch on while eagerly expecting presents in stockings and under a Christmas tree, or perhaps wishing for snow to fall pleasantly outside to top it all off. Nowadays, a lone stocking would show up by the fireplace and a blandly wrapped present was found on the threadbare couch in the sitting room. No snow, no sweets, no lights, and no tree.
That day, however, Eileen got up early on Christmas Eve to set up a few stockings by the chimney and arrange a few presents to lie nestled under a –pathetic little tree lacking in ornate decorations. In the afternoon, mugs of hot chocolate were found on the kitchen counter next to a plate of small cookies. Tobias, seemingly uncurious about it all, took nearly five and was out the front door seconds later, leaving a few crumbs on the ground as he ate. How out of character she is behaving! Severus thought as he turned off the holiday program Tobias left on.
Late that night, Severus reclined in bed, staring out the window—like he has been since he got home—from underneath thick covers when he heard a gentle knock on his door.
"Yes?" he called in slight frustration and turned towards the sound to see Eileen's dark head of hair peeking in around the doorframe.
"May I come in?" she asked.
Severus looked back out the window and she proceeded into the room. They never talked about Severus' slip of the tongue but instead seemed to avoid each other as much as they could. He couldn't possibly avoid her this time however.
He felt the bed shift as Eileen sat next to him on the mattress.
"You need a bigger bed," she noticed as she looked at the end of the bed frame.
"I've been saying that for almost four years now," Severus mumbled.
"Got an owl post for you, Severus," Eileen said promptly, and dropped the soft parcel onto her son's stomach. "Feels soft. Perhaps clothing?"
Severus slowly sat up and unwrapped the neatly tied string and discovered a letter on top of a new black scarf. Puzzled as to who would give him clothing, with furrowed brows he quickly opened the letter to see who had sent it. His heart seemed to skip a beat and bury itself to the pits of his stomach as his eyes moved to the bottom of the letter to see a signature neatly scrawled at the bottom of the stationery. He placed the letter aside and held up the sleek-looking scarf.
"Oh, this is lovely, Severus," Eileen smiled. "Who gave it to you?"
Severus continued to handle the black scarf as his mother stealthily picked up the letter without him noticing.
"'Dear Snape,'" Eileen started to read. Severus' head jerked up but he didn't snatch the letter away like his fingers were burning to do; to rip the stationary into small pieces and set it on fire. "'I had a bit of extra spending money and wanted to give you a little treat for agreeing to study with me on Thursdays. I think that, despite your urge not to be involved, we can really get a lot of good work done together. I'm pleased that we can get over what happened last year and I'd rather not dwell on what you said any longer.
"'I hope you like the scarf! There were other colours but I remembered that you said you didn't like many colours so I decided on black. It's charmed to know how the weather feels (say, if it's windy or cold, etc) and heat up accordingly. I hope you enjoy it.
"'Anyway, have a Happy Christmas and New Year and I'll see you after the holidays. Take care!
"'Lily Evans.'"
Severus feigned extreme interest in the fabric and design of the scarf, trying to hide his warm cheeks and avoid the look on his mother's face.
"The little red-haired girl," she said simply, a smile crawling on her lips. "So you two are studying together?'
Severus opened his mouth to speak but no words came, instead he glared at his mother out of the corner of his eye. Eileen sighed.
"You know, I don't think Tobias nor I ever gave you the talk about…what's the Muggle term for it…ah, yes, 'the birds and the bees'," she chuckled.
"Merlin's beard, don't discuss that," Severus said with a look of pure horror on his visage. "He already said enough when I was…what…twelve?"
"Oh, is that right? What did he say?" Eileen asked.
"He said that if I 'shag a bird, tell your mates right away because they'll find out anyway and most likely in a much more embarrassing manner'," Severus spat. "He was probably drunk."
Eileen frowned and gritted her teeth. "That man…what nerve! Good thing you didn't inherit his stupidity!" Severus couldn't help but crack a smile at that, but his demeanour quickly changed at his mother's next query. "But what exactly is going on between you and that girl?"
"You read the letter, didn't you?" Severus snapped.
Eileen looked at Severus closely and suddenly started to stroke his hair from front to back like she did when he was a child.
"Mother, stop it," he said, but Eileen continued to do so and gently began to rub her thumb on his forehead. It used to feel relaxing when he was younger…now it felt both relaxing and utterly embarrassing.
"So you two are just studying?" she asked after a few minutes had passed.
"Yes," he replied.
"Are you sure you don't fancy this girl?" Eileen asked.
"Mother—"
"She seems like a very sweet girl. Very beautiful, too. She actually reminds me of an old friend of mine. They both have similar facial features," Eileen said. "She may be good for you."
"Is she a healing potion now, or a leafy green vegetable?" Severus huffed.
"I mean to say…it may be good for you to date. You're almost seventeen," she pointed out.
"And you'd like me to date Evans?" Severus snorted. She just didn't get it!
"She seems lovely!" Eileen cried. "Why not take a chance?"
"Well, besides the fact that she already seems to be in a relationship, Evans would hardly be interested in me and believe me, Mother, the feeling is exceedingly mutual," Severus put in plain words.
"Alright, then," Eileen sighed. "What did she mean by getting over what happened last year?"
"Nothing," Severus said promptly, the word "year" barely made it out of her mouth.
"Well since you said it that way, it's definitely something," Eileen raised a brow. "Come on, you can tell your own mum."
"I'm starting to get rather irritated with this whole caring thing," Severus grumbled. "To make a long story short, I called her by a name that usually isn't used in polite conversation due to impulse. Enough said."
"You didn't call her a…you know what, did you?" Eileen grimaced, her heavy brows met around the middle.
"Depends on what you mean by 'you know what'," Severus said quietly, knowing his mother caught on to what he called the Muggle-born girl.
"You called that poor girl a Mudblood, didn't you?" Eileen said. Severus remained silent, looking out the window at the light snow gathering at the windowpane. "You did."
"I WAS HANGING UPSIDE DOWN IN MY PANTS IN FRONT OF A LARGE CROWD AND HAD TO DEAL WITH HER HELPING ME LAST SPRING!" Severus roared, defending himself best he could.
"What?" Eileen yelled. "How were you…why on Earth—"
"Don't. Ask," Severus hissed.
"But…she tried to help you and you called her that?" Eileen asked in complete confusion. "The way men's minds works never ceases to amaze me! Severus, that kind of behaviour was downright foolish of you. And who had the nerve to do that to you?"
"Potter," Severus spat.
"That boy that's been bothering you ever since first year?" Eileen asked softly.
"Oh for God's sake! I could have handled Potter just fine without a girl trying to help me," Severus whined.
"That doesn't make what you did any less dense, Severus. But…you did show maturity in apologising to Lily. I'm sure it meant a lot to her," Eileen tried to soothe after chiding him. He didn't bother to correct her: he had not, technically, apologised to Evans. "And for her to forgive you and proceed to initiate some sort of acquaintance with you is rather extraordinary. I suggest you make the best of it!"
Severus sighed. "I suppose that is…somewhat reasonable. But nothing more."
There was another long pause and Eileen suddenly stopped stroking his head. "Severus…you…do like women right?"
His eyes widened and his voice became rather strained and high-pitched in his throat. "I beg your pardon?"
"What I mean to say is…you aren't attracted to…men, are you?" Eileen said the latter part in a whisper, her eyes as wide as a seer prophesying. "Because if you are, then that's perfectly—"
"Oh bloody hell! Of course I'm not!" Severus bellowed. "Yes, I'm attracted to women!"
There was a moment of silence until Severus' mother burst out laughing, covering her hand over her mouth in hopes to quiet the jovial sounds. The sides of Severus' mouth twitched but he refused to smile. How dare his mother imply something like that?
"Oh, come on, dear! No hard feelings?" Eileen laughed and suddenly began to tickle his side with her right hand.
"Mother!" Severus growled in protest.
"You know that was funny!" Eileen insisted and continued to attempt to tickle the teenager.
"I'll hex your hand off!" Severus warned.
"Your own mother, eh? That does it!" Eileen said, and stood up and used both hands to tickle Severus' sides. He couldn't help it now. His mother seemed to remember how ticklish he was at those spots. He cracked a large smile and tried to defend himself.
"S-stop it!" Severus gritted out, refusing to laugh, but Eileen kept going full force. "I swear, I-I'll curse you!"
Of course she didn't stop, and the tickle frenzy lasted for almost a minute; Severus tried not to show much mirth, biting his tongue and covering his sides but it hardly helped.
Eileen finally stopped and mother and son were panting. She continued the oddly therapeutic hair stoking and smiled sadly. "You used to love that when you were a boy."
"Well, I'm not a boy anymore," Severus snorted, but quickly rephrased that when he felt he was implying that he was female. "I mean…I'm not…little. Tickle-fights certainly aren't one of my hobbies any longer." The lamp on the table next to him illuminated his mother's face and he paid close attention to her features: the developing wrinkles on her forehead and the crow's feet at the edges of her eyes. Her mouth was without lipstick and her pink lips looked ever so slightly dry. Her brows, though tidy, were always a bit heavy and her years of crying didn't help the slight look of a permanent frown. It always changed when she smiled a real smile. Her eyes would light up with such vim and vigour it was sometimes shocking.
"Do you know what I wish for you?" Eileen asked solemnly. "Safety."
"Mother, spare me the dramatics," Severus sighed.
Eileen ignored him and whispered, "And love. I want you to find someone who makes you so happy. So happy that…it's an unexplainable delight. Love isn't just the dictionary or pop culture reference. Love has no definition. It can never and should never really be defined. It would loose its…magic."
Severus attempted to look away as he saw tears well up in his mother's eyes. "And…you'll make some important decisions in your lifetime, Severus. Make the right ones."
Silence fell among the two until Eileen took a deep, shaky breath. "I know about what's going on back in our world, Severus." He didn't have to ask what "our world" was: she meant the wizarding world. "Your mother isn't as ignorant as you think she is," Eileen said in a short, deprecating chuckle.
"I never said—"
"Terrible…terrible things. Please, please, please don't get caught up in it," Eileen pleaded.
"I won't," Severus mumbled.
"I'm begging you, Severus. You'll be tempted. I know what Slytherin House is like. You probably have been already," Eileen said steadily.
"And how do you know?" Severus said bleakly.
"I'm your mother… In some ways I know you better than you know yourself. Even if I haven't been around when I should have…I'm still your mother…and you will be enticed. But just…don't give in. Make the right decision. It may not have seemed like it for a while, but…I care about you. So much that—Merlin, it's unbearable sometimes...it hurts," Eileen said as her voice continued to get caught in her throat.
Tears began to fall liberally down her face, which she tried to wipe off swiftly with a free hand. "Enough of my incoherency." She bent down to kiss Severus on the mouth and smiled with great maternal deportment. "Good night, darling. I love you. Remember that. Don't ever forget that."
With that she got up and turned off the light by his bed and walked over to the door. As she turned the knob, Severus mumbled very quietly, "Love you too, Mum."
Through the dark he knew she was smiling, and she softly closed the door behind her.
Severus hated mushiness in all forms, yet that night he didn't feel the need to gag or rinse his mouth out with soap.
He looked at the trees swaying in the night and the wind moaning outside. His mother hadn't done that in years, and though he liked to think it might have been his imagination, he felt something wet slide down his face and a burning sensation in his eyes as he went to sleep that night. Perhaps it was just dust.
XXX
Why did she always look at her like she was a piece of wretched garbage?
This was just one of the many things on Lily's mind as she stared at her sister from across the table. There seemed to be a staring contest between the two, in fact. Lily chewed her vegetables steadily as Petunia ate her pork roast in silence. All the while, the latter gave her the most brilliant look of contempt.
"So, Petunia, what are you planning on doing with the Dursleys tomorrow?" Matilda asked through the tense silence around the Evans table.
"I plan on meeting Vernon's sister, Marge," Petunia explained, speaking of this "Marge" as though she were the Queen of England. "I hear she is a real riot. Other than that, a nice, comfortable, relaxing time with Vernon and his family."
Lily scoffed into her roast.
"And what on Earth is so funny about that, freak?" Petunia snapped.
"Petunia!" Edward barked. "We've told you not to call your sister that name."
"She can't help it, Dad," Lily informed jerkily. "Being a nasty old tosser is in her nature."
"Girls!" Edward started. "You, Petunia, are an adult. And you, Lily, are a young lady. Both you girls better start acting your age, especially at the dinner table!"
"Edward is right!" Matilda agreed, putting down her knife. "It's Christmas Eve and we only see each other during the holidays. Let's make the most of it, girls."
Lily didn't understand why their parents still tried to get the two girls to get along like they used to. They knew when this all started. Of course, there had always been the average disagreements between siblings, but they knew when their relationship really began to dwindle. It was all initiated by Petunia…all because of what Lily was.
The Evanses finished their dinner quietly, and then made their way to the living room. Edward insisted they enjoy a nice comfortable evening around the fireplace while they munched on the chocolate chip biscuits and milk Matilda had prepared earlier. The warm room and the sweet afters made Lily drowsy. The flames crackled and let off a lovely aroma; the quiet sounds of her mother and sister in deep discussion and the rustling of her father reading the paper seemed so far away. She was close to shutting her eyes when the flames went from the typical orange and yellow flame to vibrant green. The Evanses all yelped, surprise plastered on their faces. Yet the look on Petunia's face was unforgettable: she spilled milk all over herself and her mouth was open in fright and shock; her pale blue eyes about to fall out of their sockets. She looked paralysed.
"'Lo, Lily!" said none other than Marlene, her head floating in the green flames. "Lucky I caught—oh Merlin," Marlene paused as she looked at the other people in the room. "Oh…sorry…I seem to have come at a bad time!"
Lily chuckled and moved closer to the flames. "Well…you can't blame us can you? Your head suddenly appeared in the fireplace!"
"Sorry," Marlene said, clearly embarrassed. "Hello, Mister and Missus Evans! Sorry about this."
"'Salright, Marlene," Matilda tittered nervously.
"Happy Christmas," was all Edward said, nodding towards the girl.
"You too. And who are you?" Marlene looked over Lily's shoulder, straight at Petunia, who still getting over the intrusion.
"That's Petunia," Lily said lacking enthusiasm. "I'm sure you remember me talking about her."
"Oh," Marlene said, also lacking gusto. Lily told her plenty about Petunia, most of which was hardly positive. "Good evening."
Petunia quickly excused herself to bed, muttering things about fireplaces as she stomped off.
"So, what's up, Marlene? Oh! You've changed your hair!" Lily noticed the afro haircut that now graced Marlene's head.
"Yep, I gave in. It's not so much of a hassle. Not too bad, though, is it? My parents like it," Marlene asked, twisting her head from side to side.
"Looks perfect," Lily smiled.
"Anyway, have you heard about Alice?" asked Marlene, still looking around the room.
"No, not a thing. Why? Is something wrong?" Lily asked hurriedly.
"Oh, no, no, no. She's fine. Saw her yesterday when I went with Mum to work at the Ministry. I caught her and Frank getting rather…friendly," Marlene smirked.
Lily could feel her parent's eyes on her back but tried to ignore them.
"I saw them eating lunch together yesterday and she and Frank were laughing and carrying on. And then guess who shows up and starts to make trouble?" Marlene said.
"Who?"
"Narcissistic Black's boyfriend… Forget his first name, but—you know, that Malfoy bloke that gave you a hard time in first year?" Marlene grimaced.
"Lucius Malfoy?" Lily recalled bitterly, though she was amused by Marlene's new nickname for the cold blonde.
"Yeah, him. He starts speaking some sort of rubbish to Frank, and—"
"Marlene…where were you while all this was going on?"
"Watching from around the corner, of course!" Marlene said as though it were the most obvious place to be in the world. "Anyway, Malfoy and Frank start to pull out wands but before they could do anything, Alice hexes the Malfoy brute!"
"Wait, but what about using magic outside of Hogwarts Grounds. I mean, it wasn't much of an emergency was it?" Lily wondered.
"With as much magic that's going around the Ministry of Magic on a typical day the ministry would hardly detect it very well," Marlene said.
"Are you serious?" Lily asked, completely shocked. Alice was one to complain about unfairness and violence and could certainly bad-mouth, but Lily couldn't remember Alice ever actually hexing someone.
Marlene nodded and grinned. "A right nasty one too. The man had horrible boils all over that pretty-boy face of his. He nearly shrieked. I think he was about to do something worse but some Ministry worker—an official by the looks of it—strolled by and questioned Malfoy about his appearance and the other two left in the opposite direction as soon as possible."
"Wow…Alice," Lily said, still in slight disbelief. "Then what?"
"Well, I heard Frank say something about the hex being 'absolutely wicked' as they walked past and then I stepped on a piece of chewed-up Droobles," Marlene ended lamely.
"I always knew those two had potential," Lily sighed happily. "I really do think they'd make a great couple."
"Speaking of couple," Marlene started. "When are you going to give us the full scoop on Alexander? Emmeline said you two kissed, but—"
"Marlene," Lily hissed.
"Well, just tell me how it was on a scale of one through ten. Ten being 'bloody mind-blowing' and one being 'oh Merlin, did I just kiss the giant squid?'. He seems like he'd be a seven—"
"Well, Marlene, it's getting pretty late. Happy Christmas. Your present will be sent by owl tomorrow," Lily finished hastily.
"Wait! You haven't even told me what his lips felt like. Did he have any stubble?" Marlene asked.
"Good night, Marlene," Lily insisted with a firm look.
Marlene sighed confusedly. "Night, Lils."
With that, the green flame died down and reduced to its original state, the yellow and orange flames flaring and crackling joyfully.
Lily stood up and turned back to her parents and grew nervous as she saw her mother grin knowingly and her father distract himself with the newspaper.
"Who is this Alexander boy?" Matilda asked shrewdly. "Do you have a boyfriend, Lily?"
Edward shifted in his seat.
"Well…" There was no point in lying. "Yeah, sort of."
"And you two kissed?" Matilda asked, a beam building with every syllable.
"Erm…sure," Lily said quietly.
"Oh darling!" Matilda jumped up and hugged Lily. "Oh, you're growing up…growing up so much. You have a boyfriend and…have been kissed and... Was it your first?"
"Mum!" Lily groaned.
Matilda pulled away and smiled at her youngest daughter. "Tell us about this boy."
"Matilda, it really is getting late," Edward said, standing up and taking his time folding his paper and removing his reading glasses from off the bridge of his nose. "I'm off to bed." He mounted the stairs in silence.
"Don't worry about him," Matilda whispered. "He's not ready to have proof that you aren't a little girl anymore. You saw how he was about Petunia's formers."
"Petunia also seemed to attract the strangest, sleaziest men…" Lily pointed out.
"No matter," her mother said, trying to change the subject. "Now tell me more about this boy!"
"Well…his name is Alexander. And…he is…a boy…" Lily said.
"Well I'd hope so," Matilda chuckled. "Go on."
It felt so awkward to talk to her mother about him: About which house he was in ("Oh, so he is smart?" Matilda asked), what he looked like ("Sounds cute!" Matilda nodded), and the fact that he was Muggle-born ("Does he live in London? We can invite him over for dinner!" Matilda suggested).
"Mum, please!" Lily said; her cheeks were tingling with blush. "Dad's right. It's getting late. Don't want to catch St. Nicolas, do we?"
"No, I suppose not…" Matilda said, kissing Lily on the forehead. "I've mortified you enough for one day."
The Evans women turned in different directions once at the top of the stairs. Lily passed Petunia's room, lights off and light snoring sounding through the door as she edged past and into her room.
The poster and photo-covered walls greeted her in the bright glow of her overhead lamp. A few clothes lay strewn across the floor as well as a few books, but other than that her room was relatively clean. Her records were lined up nicely in their nook, books on an antique wooden bookcase. Her vanity was close to the fairly large window, which gave a view of the suburban street, lawns, and lampposts, which blazed a dim orange on that Christmas Eve night. It was then that she realised that it had begun to snow ever so lightly, outside.
As the hazy thoughts of gifts and Christmas dinner filled her head, Lily lazily put on warm nightclothes and curled up in her bed, contemplating her day. After briefly thinking about her sister's behaviour, Alice's hex, and Alexander, her thoughts settled on what she had done earlier that evening, right before dinner. She had been hesitant about buying Severus a gift, at first; ultimately knowing she wouldn't receive one in return. But some force had seemed to make her buy that gift for him during her last visit to Diagon Alley with Emmeline.
And wasn't the spirit of giving what the holidays were all about?
"Yes, yes it is," Lily said to herself before closing her eyes and falling asleep.
XXX
Early that Christmas morning, James was feeling rather pleased with himself. His presents he had received that year were the best he had gotten in all his sixteen years. That afternoon, while Sirius smoked a cigarette by the window, James was finishing up an entire box of chocolates given to him from a random third-year and getting ready to accomplish the task of the day: sending off his gift to Lily.
"You still haven't told me what you got Evans," Sirius said. "You're protecting it like a child. You aren't going to send her one through the post, are you, mate? Because I have a gut feeling that that's kinda sorta illegal."
"It's not a child," James said, walking over to his bedside table, opening the drawer, and pulling out an avocado-green bag.
"What's in the bag, then?" Sirius asked. "A book for the little swot?"
"That's what Moony suggested I give her, but I wasn't going to waste my money giving Evans a bloody book!" James snorted, waving the bag around. "This, my friend, is something ten times better than any book."
"Well, what the fuck is it?" Sirius asked, coughing slightly as smoke issued out of his mouth in wisps.
James threw the bag at Sirius. "Find out for yourself, but be careful. It's delicate."
"Is that why you threw it across the room?" Sirius chuckled and took another drag. Before plunging his hand into the gift, he took a look at the bag.
"This must be some sort of mistake, because the bag says 'Becca's Best'," Sirius frowned.
"No mistake, mate," James smirked, wiggling his brows.
"But isn't that the place with all the knickers and stuff?" Sirius asked slowly.
"Yup!" James beamed.
Sirius raised an eyebrow and opened the bag. He thrust his cigarette out of his mouth and let out the loud, barking laughter he was known for, nearly doubling over as he pulled out a hot pink, lacy, and incredibly short nightie with one hand.
"What?" James questioned. "What's wrong with it?"
"Oh God, I'm just imagining the look on Evans' face when she gets this. You better start writing your will, Prongs," Sirius said between giggles and began to fiddle with the expensive, tantalizing garment.
"For you information, Pad, this is exactly what women want as a gift," James said knowingly. He went over to his bedside table again and pulled out a two–week-old copy of Witch Weekly and threw that at Sirius as well. It landed on the floor next to Sirius' socked foot; the cover depicting a famous, longhaired blonde witch in tight-fitted green and red robes, waving.
"Why do you have this in your room?" Sirius asked.
"That's not important. Turn to page twenty-three." James blushed.
Snorting, Sirius began to read the headline at the top of the page. "'Top ten things witches want for Christmas from their partners'."
"Now go to number two," James said, folding his arms across his chest.
"'Sexy lingerie'," Sirius read bemusedly.
"See! This is what women want for Christmas. Lily is a woman, thus, she must want it. Makes perfect sense, don't it? And you thought I was crazy!" James cried.
"Well, if this was a test of your sanity, you certainly fail," Sirius said, reading the rest of the list. "I can just imagine how Moony would react if he knew you bought Evans this. He'd probably weep. By the way, you probably should have stayed away from this pink."
"Why?" James asked.
"Well, with the red hair and that lovely frock, she'll look very…pimple-like. Redheads have enough trouble looking good in pink makeup, let alone an outfit," Sirius explained, flipping through the woman's magazine.
"…WHY DO YOU KNOW THIS, YOU GREAT POUF?" James exclaimed.
Sirius scoffed. "Just because I know a thing or two about what looks good on a girl doesn't make me a pouf. Oh, and another little problem with your brilliant plan: Evans isn't your partner."
"So? She will be after this. Can't you read? THIS IS WHAT WOMEN WANT FOR CHRISTMAS!" James pointed at the nightie and beamed.
"By 'women' they mean women who can actually stand to be in the same room as the giver of the gift without popping a blood vessel!" Sirius chortled.
"You'll see," James said and grabbed the article of clothing from Sirius and this time heading for his desk drawers, pulling out delicate green wrapping paper and ribbon.
"Now you have that stuff in your room?" Sirius exclaimed in disbelief. "Lord, what's next? Moony's trousers?"
James paused and scrunched up his face, trying to remember something. "Well, actually, he did leave a pair of his socks here the last time he came over…I forget where they are, though. Argyle, I think…I should probably remind him when he comes over for New Year's Eve."
"Oh, Lord," Sirius said, continuing to stare at James with amusement plastered across his face as James folded and wrapped the gift in multiple layers of delicate green wrapping paper, pulling it all together with a ruby-red ribbon. "Is that going to have a letter attached, or will she just get a nightie from an undisclosed being? Both are pretty scary."
"Stuff it, will you? I have that ready," James muttered and grabbed a letter from off his desk with Lily's name on the front in James' messy handwriting. "Wrote it last night."
"You were pissed last night." Sirius grinned wolfishly.
"I wrote it before I was pissed," James corrected. "This wrapping is weather–proof, so it should be fine getting to Evans."
"Well, get a damn owl and get on with it. I'm getting bored," Sirius declared, finishing off his cigarette throwing it out the window.
James did just that and the two Marauders roamed lazily around the house, searching for hidden presents and drinking firewhiskey to warm them up that cold day…and because the holidays seemed to embrace drunkenness.
XXX
He always rose early on Christmas morning. Maybe it was the little boy buried deep within him that caused him to do so. Severus quickly got dressed (in trousers and a heavy jumper, due to the cold) and went downstairs. Looking out the window briefly, he discovered that the car was gone: Tobias wasn't home. His heart lifted as he looked under the Christmas tree. There were a couple of presents addressed to him under there, and a small gift in his old stocking; there was even one gift in the fireplace, having come by owl post. Severus was glad the fireplace wasn't left burning through the night or the gift may have been burnt to a crisp by morning. He grabbed the gifts marked for him, ran back upstairs, and quickly sorted through them: a book on the history of magic and another on influential and controversial wizards and witches from his mother, some sweets from Regulus, a Muggle jacket from his father, and a ad looking chestnut in the stocking. He suddenly remembered the scarf that Lily had given him, which was folded neatly on his desk with her letter resting on top. Shaking his head, he took his eyes off the present and, after looking through and at each of his gifts, he decided to wake his mother.
He walked down the creaky, dark hallway until he reached his parents' room, only to find their bed empty and made up. Curious, he checked the closed bathroom door. He knocked on the door but there was no answer.
"Mother?" he called. Still no answer.
"Mother, would you like some tea?" Severus asked through the door, expecting to get an answer his second time around.
"Mother!" he called again, louder, but Eileen's distinctive voice wasn't heard. "If this is your idea of a joke, I'm finding it hard to find any humour in it!" he yelled through the heavy door. Thinking that perhaps she wasn't inside, he looked around the rest of the house: no sign of his mother. So he went back to that closed door once more.
"Mother?" he called again, still no response. No soft crying, so water running…silence. Severus twisted the doorknob: it wouldn't disengage no matter how much as he pulled and turned and wriggled the knob; it remained resistant. He finally pushed the difficult entrance with the help of his shoulder and the door finally budged open, looked down, and saw familiar-looking feet at the edge of the door. He pushed the door open all the way and his stomach plummeted down through his feet, through the floorboard, past the foundation, and possibly to hell itself. His eyes were wide with terror and utter disbelief as he found himself looking at the limp body of his mother, her face down against the floor tiles, and wearing the same attire she was dressed in yesterday. Her arms were spread out in what would be elegant positions; elegant but lifeless. Her left hand was flaccid and gently curled at the knuckles while her right was in a loose fist.
He quickly fell to his knees and shook her shoulder. Maybe she is asleep. Fainted, he hoped. But she didn't move a muscle. Instead her body felt colder than usual, certainly below normal body temperature. He then attempted to turn her over and what he saw made his stomach lurch and it took every ounce of him not to turn to the toilet and vomit. He gagged and closed his eyes, praying, praying to God, praying to anyone that he didn't see what he thought he just saw; hoping this was a hallucination, a nightmare.
He slowly opened his eyes and came to the daunting realization that this was not, in fact, a dream at all; nor a nightmare. There Eileen lay on the cold, cramped bathroom floor: dark blood dribbled out the corner of her mouth and smudged slightly on her cheek and the tile ground. Her eyes were wide open and lifeless; her face had the faintest tinge of blue from the blood collecting there. Dark circles rested under her eyelids as well—from lack of sleep or lack of life, Severus didn't know.
She was dead…there was no use denying it. His mother was dead.
His eyes fell across the scene around him and he caught a glimmer of pink enclosed in Eileen's limp hand. Focusing on the bright colour he found a multi-faceted cerise glass vial without a top. His shaky hands reached for the object and he cautiously inhaled at the opening. He distinctly picked up the strong odour of hellebore, often used in poisons… Poison. His mind was spinning and he honestly couldn't envision his mother knowingly taking poison. Suicide? No…his mother was perfectly fine last night. But her words of care and warning slowly came back to his mind: they all seemed so very final.
The surrealism of the entire situation increased tenfold when he heard the front door creak open and slam shut
"Severus! Make a cuppa or get your mum t'do it!" Tobias called from below, his footsteps mounting the stairs. Severus quickly got up and ran out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, and right into his father.
"Happy Christmas…now make me a cuppa," Tobias grunted. Severus didn't realize his eyes were still as wide as saucers and but Tobias noticed his son's body shaking. "What on this good green Earth has got'n into ya?"
Severus' breathing started to come in strangled gasps and gags, his body starting to react from the shock.
Tobias looked startled. "Where is Eileen? Maybe she'll know what the hell is wrong with ya." Tobias proceeded to make his way into the bedroom, not yet reaching the bathroom.
"Gone," Severus managed to croak.
"What?" Tobias said. "Speak up!"
"Dead," Severus said louder, staring at his father unblinkingly.
"Are you sick?" Tobias frowned as he shrugged off his heavy coat and throwing it on the bed. Becoming frustrated by his ignorance, Severus pointed to the bathroom weakly. Tobias Snape raised an eyebrow at his son but followed his finger.
"What in the Lord's name is this all about, Sever—" he stopped as he looked through the open bathroom door. He backed away from the scene slowly, his eyes as wide as Severus'. He turned to him sharply, his body shaking, mouth opening and closing over and over again. "What did you do to her? I ASKED WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, BOY?"
"Nothing," Severus replied weakly. "Found her…"
Tobias began saying the Lord's name in vain and carried on. Severus found himself too emotionally drained to care. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph" were the last things he heard before slumping against the wall and passing out.
XXX
Lily found herself relieved when Petunia gathered up her presents and bid her parents goodbye the next morning; of course, not saying a thing to Lily. Earlier that morning Lily had sent gifts off to her friends and Alexander by owl and was pleased when she received Christmas gifts from various owls later that morning. She felt her heart flutter ever so slightly when she spotted an unfamiliar owl and nearly squealed when she found a parcel wrapped in Muggle wrapping paper depicting Rudolf, St. Nicholas, and overstuffed stockings. Tearing the paper apart like a starving woman opening a box full of food for her children, she found a neatly-written letter asking her how she was, telling her how much he missed her, etc. She made a mental note to reply to him as soon as possible, and was delighted to find Aurora Leigh by Elizabeth Barrett Browning inside. He must have really been paying attention on the train when she said she enjoyed Browning's work.
The Evans family, sans Petunia, ate breakfast slowly, without a rush or worry in the world. It was Christmas, after all! You're supposed to be surrounded by family, warming up by the fire and breathing in the fresh pine scents of an ornamented tree with a hot bowl of porridge and a plate of meats, eggs, and toast covered in marmite.
Afternoon approached and Lily was cuddled up in heavy blankets, records playing and presents open around her room, when there was yet more pecking on the window. Frustrated at having to get up from her comfy position, she walked across the room and quickly opened the window so that too much snow wouldn't get in. She then took the parcel out of the owl's cold talons and the bird, apparently, decided to rest a while from the harsh cold. After the window was closed once more she noticed the messily wrapped parcel with lovely wrapping paper. A card was placed within the string and she felt her heart plummet.
"Not…again," Lily muttered as she glared at her name gracing the outside of the letter: Potter's handwriting. "Oh Lord."
Against her better judgment, she opened the letter and yelped as the parchment began to talk…loudly…and it simply oozed James Potter.
HAPPY CHRISTMAS, EVANS, MY LOVELY LITTLE LILY BUD!
I HOPE YOU LIKE MY GIFT. THE CARD TOO! HAPPY CHRISTMAS! I BET THAT PRICK ALEXANDER'S GIFT WASN'T LIKE THIS! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT! I KNOW THAT BECAUSE YOU ARE A WOMAN. YOU'LL UNDERSTAND WHEN YOU OPEN THE GIFT!
LOVE, THE ONE AND ONLY JAMES DORIAN POTTER!
P.S. THIS REPEATS ITSELF SO YOU CAN HEAR MY LOVELY VOICE ALL CHRISTMAS LONG!
HAPPY CHRISTMAS, EVANS, MY LOVELY LITTLE LILY BUD!
I HOPE YOU LIKE MY—
"—I hope you like your trip to the bottom of my trunk!" Lily said, crumbling the paper and muffling the voice before stuffing and locking it to its promised destination.
That was just the card.
She held out a forlorn hope that something better might be in the parcel, so she slowly opened it.
No such luck.
She stared at the hot-pink nightie in abject repulsion, feeling it within her hands and holding it up arms length in front of her. Though…she had to admit it did look nice: the silk felt lovely in her hands and it was her size—
"THIS IS FROM POTTER!" Lily reminded herself aloud, and threw the nightie in the truck with its companion, which was still singing away in a low muffled pattern.
She felt her anger and embarrassment course at the pit of her stomach. The nerve of him! The nerve of him to send her such a gift when he knew full well she had a boyfriend! And what about Florence? Was their relationship finished, over, kaput, history? Was it to be remembered at the most popular ephemeral romance of first term? Did the ball or the trip home or a bludgeon to the head make his feelings flood back to her?
"No, no, no, no, no," Lily sighed, and suddenly took off the opal necklace Potter had given her all those weeks ago and placed it on her vanity table, ignoring the buzzing sensation around her neck and the spot above the crevice of her bosom where the opal pendant usually rested. It felt too wrong to wear it now…now that he seemed to fancy her once more.
She wouldn't stand for him sending her such gifts, would she? No, I won't! Lily thought angrily, and grabbed some spare pieces of paper and a pen from her desk and quickly writing a very displeased letter to Potter. After she was finished with her writing and as her fingers were sore, she gave the envelope to the owl that was waiting patiently by the window.
She sighed as the letter was finally out of her hair and crawled back to bed, and pulled her covers closer to her body. Reading poetry was the last thing on her mind as she was suddenly plagued by thoughts of James Potter and the nightie of doom.
XXX
"'Potter,
"'Your gift was absolutely inappropriate! Half of me wants to return this item to, assumedly, Becca's Best ASAP! However, it is well made nightwear…BUT STILL VERY INAPPROPRIATE!
"'Imagine if Alexander found out about this! You know, Alexander, the bloke who I happen to be dating currently. Little tricks like this are absolutely dim-witted and appalling. Though this gift is, in theory, much more useful than what you sent me last year (which, if memory serves, was a hat that said "Mrs. Potter" on the front), this has got to come to an end. You've been sending me obnoxious letters and gifts for Christmas since fourth year. Leave your pranking at school.
"'In short, Potter: GROW UP.
"'Lily Evans.
"'P.S. I know you got this idea from Witch Weekly. I saw you nick a copy off a seventh-year as I was patrolling the train and I happen to know that buying "sexy lingerie" was on that Top Ten list.'"
Sirius, who seemed to be close to laughing himself to death, cut off James' reading of Lily's angry letter. Chewed up chocolate left residue all around his teeth and tongue were showing proudly, and his bark-like laughter was louder than ever.
"You…you nicked it…from…some girl?" Sirius said between gasps.
"I'm not finished!" James snapped. "'P.P.S. Tell Black to stop laughing. It's not funny.'"
"It doesn't say that, you prick," Sirius scoffed.
"I swear, that's what it says," James said gravely.
"I never liked her," Sirius concluded, scraping the melted chocolate from his teeth. "Never been fond of red heads."
"'P.P.P.S. I'm not very fond of him, either, so we're equal'," James read.
Sirius' mouth gaped open.
"You have nothing to worry about. Lily may not be a fan of yours, but half of the female student body at Hogwarts would give a wand and a leg to stand within three feet of you or lick your ankles." James frowned, and flopped on his bed dramatically. "One day, Padfoot. I'm not giving up yet."
"You, my loveless friend, need to get shit-faced. How about that?" Sirius suggested.
"It's three in the afternoon," James pointed out.
"You know that Muggle phrase: Early bird gets the worm," Sirius recited, not realizing he wasn't using the expression correctly.
"Hmm. But it would be better if you were Evans," James sighed.
"Fine." Sirius shrugged and rummaged through James' sock drawer.
"Ahem," James cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"
Sirius turned around and stuffed the multiple socks into his shirt. "There, now I'm sort of like Evans."
"…They don't look like that," James sighed. "They're a lot less lumpy and more…round."
"Tit googler," Sirius mocked.
"Oh, and I suppose you look at women's ears when you talk to them!" James retorted.
"Fair point. Actually, it's kneecaps that make me rather randy." Sirius rolled his eyes. "So you don't like my tits?"
"Don't take it personally. I still have your lovely eyes to swoon over." James puckered up his lips.
"Alcohol now. Kissing later," Sirius concluded.
"Cheers!"
XXX
The funeral was set for Thursday.
Tobias seemed more sorrowful about the costs of the funeral than the death of his wife. Severus found it disgusting.
Or maybe it just hadn't sunk in yet for his father. Maybe he should give Tobias the benefit of the doubt.
He scoffed and silently scolded himself for even considering it.
After he passed out that Christmas morning a local inspector had woken him up.
"Y'alright, lad?" the man asked, his brown eyes and thick brows creasing.
"I'm fine," Severus replied, still in a slight daze. There were only a few cops in the house, one questioning his father down the hall. The man helped Severus up on his feet.
"I'm Inspector Hill. I'm sorry fer ya loss this morning," the officer said politely. "I'm sure she was a lovely woman."
Severus didn't say anything, still staring down the hallway at his father.
"Hate gettin' calls on Christmas," the man admitted, trying to make conversation. "But, it's th'job."
Severus continued to stare blankly around him.
"It may have been cardiac arrest or somethin' similar, causing her ta collapse and hit her head, so I'm afraid there was little that could have prevented this," Hill stated in an authoritative voice, as though he had conducted the autopsy all by himself in a matter of minutes.
Severus couldn't tell him they were incorrect. They wouldn't believe him anyway. Was he really supposed to tell the police that his mother didn't collapse, but instead committed suicide via a poisonous brew from a pink vial? No, that would cause too much trouble…too much time…too many questions and condescending smiles. Would his mother want the truth revealed? Did she even expect him to figure it out for himself? Did she want him to know the truth?
So he nodded. Nodded at the mistaken man and cleared the hallway as emergency officials came through with none other than Eileen's body, covered in a thin white cloth and strapped to a medical board; none of her body peeked from underneath the constricting cloth. It was all lumps…was that all his mother was now? A bunch of covered lumps to be put in a coffin and most likely cremated?
The light-headedness he felt when he first found her was coming back to him fast, his knees buckling slightly.
"Steady there, lad. I know this must be hard for ya," Hill said, steadying him with a firm grip of the shoulder. "Your father too, surely."
Severus would have snorted if he weren't so woozy.
"It'll be hard at first. It sure was when I lost my mam. But after the stress of the funeral and the realisation that she ain't comin' back, t'was alright. And it was nice to get a fair bit of something in return from the will. Certainly helped my family some. And she would have liked that, wouldn't she?" Hill said. As though a fucking will could make up for a human being.
"Don't you worry. Yer father will work out all the technical stuff…probably set up a nice funeral at that little church by the village. I'll be sure to attend." Hill winked, patted Severus on the back, and followed his fellow men out of the house with Tobias (who was speaking to an officer) in tow, not looking Severus in the eye.
It was then that Severus walked into his room and stared out his window, surprised to see a small crowd gather round the old house; many of them looked even more surprised and started to draw back from their tightly knit mass as the police and emergency officials came out with the body which was quickly put in the ambulance vehicle and most likely off to the nearest hospital. He watched as the small crowd began to corner the police and Tobias, questioning them feverishly; curious as to what disrupted the small milling neighbourhood and their Christmas morning.
Seconds later, Severus found himself reclining on his bed, his eyes still tearless, and the headache catching up to him and putting him into a deep slumber.
He later woke up to find an owl pecking insistently at his window with a short letter from Regulus.
So, how was the loot this year? Get anything good?
Neighbours came round daily to send condolences to the family of the deceased woman who they hardly even knew, which he found both uncomfortable and incredibly insincere. Severus soon grew tired of answering the door, hearing them say "God bless" and thanking them for their pity. He eventually let them knock on the door for a minute, then, after they'd gone, gathered the cards left underneath the door and the oddly scented candles left on the doormat.
That miserable Christmas Day continued to haunt him, in his dreams, his conscious mind, as he tidied his room, walked within feet of his mother's bedroom…everywhere. As he lay in bed he could swear he heard her quiet footsteps walk down the hallway, one night even convinced that he heard soft sobbing. He told himself it was just the wind, or just the old house settling…but somehow he never felt fully certain.
A couple days passed before Severus actually got around to replying to Regulus' letter. He grabbed the little bit of parchment he had and his nearly broken quill and his lacking ink and wrote a short reply.
I got a dead mum. Happy Christmas.
XXX
Christmas night brought more light snow across Lily's London borough and Boxing Day left her neighbours shovelling snow out of their driveways while children attempted to make snowmen, risking developing a cold as they took off their scarves and earmuffs to use on their creations.
Lily found the weather a bit strange but smiled as she looked out of her window and watched a few children play. She enjoyed watching people…she was a people-watcher…yeah, that's it. They fascinated her, frankly; anyone from the little boy across the road, to the old women buying groceries at the store, or the young men in the city with their piercings and cool hairstyles expressing the new punk movement she kept hearing about.
With this not-so-new hobby of hers came her new tendency to pay attention to body language and try to decipher what they felt, what emotions were boiling within them, what they were going to do next. She found herself observing the various stances of the people around her and imagining what they could possibly mean. That is why, when Lily came downstairs for a cup of tea, she grew nervous as she spotted her mother on the phone in the distance with her back towards Lily; she clutched the phone tightly with her right hand, her left arm was wrapped around her front underneath her sagging bosoms, and her back tensed in intervals of five seconds as she breathed in and out heavily. This only met one thing: Something was wrong. Something bad had happened.
She crept closer to her mother, but her voice was so low now it was impossible to hear what she was saying clearing at all! All Lily caught were the words, "I can't believe it", "years ago", "so happy", "you can't make it?" and "maybe Lily".
Lily's ears perked. Now she was involved? Lily found her heartbeat quickening as she moved even closer to her mother. The warm flannel nightclothes she wore didn't prevent her from a cold sweat appearing on her forehead, or pooling at the small of her back.
"Okay. How about you come round here when you get a chance and stay for a day or two? Sound good? Alright. Thank you for telling me, Ruth," Matilda said quietly. Ruth? Ruth was her mother's friend who lived up north. What on Earth was Ruth missing that Matilda suggested Lily go to instead that was so hard to believe?
Her mother let out a deep, shuddering sigh and put the heels of her palms to her temples; her elbows rested against the kitchen counter as she rubbed her eyes with the pads of her fingers.
"Mum?" Lily asked uncertainly. "What's wrong? Where do you want me to go?"
Matilda gasped. "Blimey, girl! You scared me half to…death."
"Sorry…but—"
"An old friend of mine died yesterday morning," Matilda said slowly. "Ruth and I knew her pretty well for a few years, ages ago, but we just…lost contact."
"Oh wow," Lily said quietly. "How'd you know her?"
"We—we being your dad, me, and you as well—went to visit Ruth over a decade ago. Pet was visiting Grandmum and you were just a little over a year old and we wanted to show you off. And we met her at a teashop with her child. Probably around your age now. We started talking and hit it off. Kept in contact on and off for a long while, until you were about seven or so and we just couldn't seem to get a hold of each other anymore," Matilda explained. "But Ruth just heard about it yesterday and she can't make it to the funeral because she already made plans to go out of town that week…"
"What was her name? The…the woman who died?" Lily asked.
"Eileen…I feel like a right fool for not remembering her last name! But we always just called her Eileen," Matilda said softly. "She took her life… Bless her."
"Lord." Lily shuddered. "I'm so sorry, Mum."
"S'alright, I'm just in shock, really. But, you should come with me. We hardly spent time together during summer," Matilda said.
"How much bonding time will we have during a funeral?" Lily whined.
"I'll want some company going all the way up there," Matilda said.
"I didn't even know the woman, though," Lily reasoned. Frankly, she just didn't want to go to a funeral during the holidays!
"Ruth tells me that the invite is rather open. Any family, friends, or neighbours can go and pay their respects."
"What about Dad?" Lily suggested.
"He's been planning on going to some dodgy furniture store in Hackney for weeks now. I don't know what it is about men and furniture…" Matilda said.
"Pet?" She knew she was really desperate now.
"Petunia would first scrub the toilet with her bare hands," Matilda muttered. "And she is going out with Vernon anyway at that new restaurant in the city."
"Why oh why does everyone have plans that day?" Lily sighed.
"Come now, you've been inside this house practically all holiday. You need to move your legs around. The funeral itself shouldn't be too long," Matilda coaxed.
Lily was quiet for nearly a minute, weighing the pros (if any) and cons of going to the funeral of this old friend of her mother's.
"Mum," she sighed. "I just…"
"We only have a little bit of porridge left. I need to go to the market and get some more Earl Grey." Her mother changed the subject quickly and began to boil some water and get out a few eggs from the refrigerator. "Lord, we're running out of sugar, too—"
Was she being disrespectful to the deceased? Was she being selfish for not wanting to go with her mother for one day to a funeral? Was she so horrible for instead desiring to curl up in front of the TV and watch broadcastings of It's a Wonderful Life, despite Christmas passing, or maybe Doctor Who reruns?
Yes…yes she was.
"What should I wear?"
A/N 2: I hope that isn't considered a cliffhanger…I realized that I have yet to really write one yet. Maybe later in the story. So, as usual, please read and review and tell me what you thought of this chapter, my writing in general, characterization, politics, what you had for dinner, whatever you'd like! Reviews are seriously like crack for us fic writers!
Chapter 17 may take a little while since school is in full gear now, but I try to write as much as I possibly can when I have the free time. Next up: the funeral and maybe a twist or two. :)