A/N EDIT 3/8/07: Okay, my beta finally replied to me with the edited version of this chapter! So the chapter has been replaced with the original update on 2/28/07. Sorry, I really just had to get something in before the end of February because I have some sort of obsessive compulsive thing I seem to be developing…ahem. Anyway, enjoy!
X Camilla Jenkins
Winter hols had come and gone and with that (as well as an extra half foot of snow) came the second term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If the sixth-years thought that their year full of exams, presentations, and reports was bad enough, they were hardly prepared for the second half of their NEWTs year which had already proved more difficult than the first half!
The self-proclaimed Marauders were back to their usual pranks the moment they stepped foot into the castle on their first day back. By curfew the quartet had already managed to attach a string of firecrackers to Mrs. Norris's tail, and James so badly hexed a brazen Slytherin first-year (for nearly bumping into Lily) that the teen received a three-night detention. Remus did not tend to receive detentions anywhere near as often as the rest of his friends, due to the lack of prohibitions on his curfew thanks to his prefect status (as well as common sense!), but he was known to be with the nightly crime-doers at the scene of the crime, often prompting Filch (who usually caught the miscreants) to declare him part of the night's conspiracy.
More than anything, however, was the return of the more public acts of the Marauders' shameless defiance which the students of Hogwarts seemed to relish and love, much to James's glee. He seemed to have more fun than ever before, picking out random students to prank during eating hours, kids in the common room, and especially in his classes. He just couldn't seem to get himself out of the spotlight…or detention.
This, though entertaining to much of the student body, was not droll in the slightest in Lily's opinion. And the Gryffindor prefect had enough on her plate.
With the slow, lethargic return to regularly scheduled classes and piles upon piles of homework, came rumours and confirmation of Lily Evans and Alexander Jacobson's relationship. The affair of the two Muggle-born students spread quicker than Lily ever imagined. With all the hubbub and hype the relationship received, she was surprised it didn't reach the Daily Prophet. Or even the Sun.
She found herself bombarded with questions and not-so-sly innuendoes from the Gryffindors in her year. Even some younger Gryffindors were interested, and conferred with Lily about who they fancied. She had no idea why they were asking her of all people about how to commence a relationship. Lily thought she was pants when it came to dealing with crushes, but the chipper girls didn't seem to care in the slightest.
One girl who Lily found herself incredibly fond of was a second-year named Natalyia who had a crush on Callum, another Gryffindor second-year.
"All I know about him is that he likes Quidditch an awful lot, and he is always messing up in potions class. Professor Slughorn doesn't like him very much. Calls him a menace," Natalyia told Lily one day on the stairs of the girls' tower before lunch.
"Well, have you talked to him before?" Lily asked the twelve-year-old.
"Yes, I have! But I only asked him if he had an extra pair of gloves since I couldn't find mine. He gave 'em to me and was really nice about it. Does that mean something, Lily?" Natalyia asked hopefully, wringing her hand together and moving her feet about nervously.
"Maybe you can find time to talk to him after some of your potions classes. Maybe give him a few pointers?" Lily suggested to the fretful preteen.
"Oh no, I'm no good at Potions, either." Natalyia shook her head rapidly, causing her pigtails to swing around her head like helicopter blades.
"Do you like Quidditch?" Lily questioned.
"Of course I do!" she said excitedly.
"How about you sit next to him at the Slytherin-versus-Ravenclaw game coming up?" Lily proposed with a smile. "Plenty of time to catch up, yeah? Just don't be too forward."
"Wicked! Thanks, Lily!" Natalyia whispered excitedly, and with that ran off…
"You must have forgotten how quickly information moves around here, Lily," Alice told Lily with the next day at breakfast as she poured over her neglected Herbology textbook, Interesting Foliage for the Fantastically Insipid by Herbert Horngarden. She wasn't the only one who should have concentrated on more work over the leisurely break, Lily thought nervously before responding to her friend.
"But…it's sort of different when you're on the opposite side! When they're actually talking about you, it's…I don't know…" Lily explained lamely as she picked at her oatmeal with plump blueberries and submerged in milk. "It's just different, you know?"
Alice nodded her head understandingly before greeting Emmeline, who just came down to the Great Hall.
"What's different?" Emmeline asked as she placed the tail of her robes under her thighs to keep warm from the cool bench.
Lily quickly caught Emmeline up on their conversation.
"You're happy, though, right? With Alexander?" Emmeline said.
"Oh, of course," Lily said after swallowing a hearty mouthful of her warm porridge. "We're great. And he really…he really understands how it is. You know, being a Muggle-born amongst all this chaos going on outside the castle."
And inside, something told her.
"Well, you may be happy," said Marlene, joining the girls and snatching a muffin from a basket on the great oak table. She looked oddly cheerful, especially since Marlene was hardly a morning person. Perhaps she just overheard some intriguing gossip. "But Potter is absolutely positively furious."
"Yes, you should have seen him yesterday during dinner, Lily," Emmeline confirmed with lifted brows. "He was staring at the Ravenclaw table like he wanted to pummel someone."
"Three guesses as to whom!" Alice snorted and took a small sip of tea before adding an extra squeeze of lemon.
"He kept staring at Alexander and me during the ball," Lily said as she moved her spoon about the bowl. "He's just going to have to deal with it, I suppose."
"I'd want something else to look at too, if I was stuck with that Florence girl yapping away in my ear all night. I don't blame the bloke," Marlene said.
"Marlene, did I tell you what the idiot sent me for Christmas?" Lily sighed.
"Perfume?" Marlene guessed after a gulp of pumpkin juice.
"No, that was fourth year. A nightgown, Marlene! A bloody…hot pink…lacy nightie!" Lily said quietly with a bit of edge to her voice.
"I still think it sounds a bit kinky," Emmeline said seriously.
"You're not helping," Lily groaned. "I wrote to you lot about that gift he gave me, yeah? And the love note from hell. Not only was it the most atrocious-sounding…object I've ever come across, it was…ugh!"
"What's that?"
Lily nearly chocked on her blueberry in surprise.
Emmeline and Marlene looked up at the voice, as did Alice, and after she swallowed the menacing fruit Lily grinned as she found Alexander Jacobson standing behind her with half-dried hair and a beige satchel hanging limply over his left shoulder.
"Oh, sit, sit!" Lily said eagerly, scooting over to give the boy some room. She had surprised herself on the train ride back up to Hogwarts, earlier that week, by how excited she was to see him again. They ran into each other at the train station—much to the embarrassment of both Lily and Alexander, due to the fact that their families were with them both during their meeting (Lily's father just happened to have his camera again). Luckily, the two managed to escape the barrage of motherly reminiscing and the immediate hesitance of Alexander's father to Edward Evans; Mister Jacobson was, of course, the father of the son who was doing Lord knows what to Mister Evans's youngest daughter.
The two even found themselves chatting whenever she wasn't on corridor duty and during those little discussions Lily realized just how engaging it was to talk to him; how easy it was to talk to him about…everything. She felt comfortable discussing Muggle life with someone who really understood how it is to live with them, who knew about Muggle films and Top of the Pops. Of course, she's talked to and been acquainted with plenty of students with Muggle blood, but Alexander was different. And, unlike anyone else, he was her boyfriend.
"How are you?" Lily asked.
"Good," Alexander said and lightly kissed Lily on the lips, not noticing the other three girls beaming, or Marlene suppressing giggles. "You?"
"Grand!" Lily sighed sarcastically. "Just talking about Potter's latest antics."
"Hm, what's he done this time?" Alexander frowned as he stowed away the latest Daily Prophet into his bag.
Lily opened her mouth to explain, but Alexander quickly put his index finger along her lips. "Tell me later, I've got to finish up an essay for Arithmancy on," he frowned in concentration, "the magical use of numbers applied contemporary witchcraft."
"Well, it sounds…stimulating?" Lily offered.
"Ha, I don't think so." He then leaned into her ear and whispered, "Meet me in the corridor on the fourth floor next to the painting of those sheep after you're done with your classes and tell me about it."
"'Kay," Lily whispered back as he pulled away from her ear. She swiftly received a wink another peck from Alexander, and with a small wave to the rest of her friends, he greeted the Gray Lady and headed out the great hall.
"And what did he say?" Marlene quirked an eyebrow and winked. "Meet me by the lake so we can have a proper snog? If I'm lucky I may see your frilly granny-sized knickers?"
"Hey!" Lily giggled. "I didn't bring those this year."
"Oh yeah?" Marlene challenged. "Then why did I find a mysterious cotton item hanging out of your trunk this morning? IT WAS LAVENDER. AND FRILLY. AND HAD GRANDMUM WRITTEN ALL OVER IT."
"If so, Mum decided to go on a knickers reinforcement binge," Lily sighed. "But I'm not wearing hideous pants today anyway. They're actually rather nice."
"Lace?" Emmeline asked.
"No, Emmeline, metal," Marlene snorted.
"They're cotton, actually," Lily said, licking her spoon idly. "White."
"How boring," Marlene replied.
"Look who's talking! As though you wear exciting knickers," Alice defended.
"Point taken." Marlene gave up and began to catch the girls up on what she saw on her way to lunch yesterday.
"That girl slapped the taste right out of his mouth! Get a look over at him now. Still got a nasty bruise. Probably too bloody proud to go to Pomfrey, the git."
The rest of breakfast carried on like a typical morning, but Lily did, to her concern, find herself glancing in the direction of the other side of the long table where James sat flicking cereal at first years with his friends. All the while, she couldn't help but wonder whether or not he was really as furious as the girls divulged.
XXX
The first week back passed in a blur to Severus. There was hardly any time for him to spend as he liked—his entire schedule was filled with times to do his homework and when to silently patrol the corridors.
But when he pondered what other homework he had to complete by Monday, he was happily surprised to discover that he had little work to do for the weekend. His good mood increased drastically until he was at the portrait hole of the Slytherin common room, about to say the password, only to come into contact with Amelia barrelling out of the entrance and nearly colliding with him.
"Oh!" Amelia gasped as she stopped herself promptly. It looked as though she was crying. The brunette swiftly wiped her eyes on the back of her hand onto the side of her robes. "S-sorry."
"Don't be," Severus said briskly and tried to walk around her.
"I-if y-you see…Evan. C-can you t-tell him that I need to s-speak wi-with him, please?" Amelia stuttered miserably. "It's v-very impo-important."
"Fine."
"Th-thank you," Amelia whispered, trying to smile before continuing on her way down the hallway.
Severus continued into the Slytherin common room, noticing, with concern, that suddenly his mood had dropped dramatically, even as Regulus called him over towards himself and a group of boys, including a couple of his roommates.
"Severus, watch this!" Regulus said excitedly as he leapt over a small table to get to his sallow friend. His tie was loosened, as well as his robes, and Severus noticed for the first time since he'd been back that Regulus seemed to have grown over a mere three weeks. Not just in height, but his entire appearance was aged. The fifteen-year-old was not only appearing to really mature, but he was certainly achieving the famous Black genes as well. "Crouch is trying to see how many Eye-Watering Gum Drops he can fit into his mouth. He is already at forty-three! How fucking amazing is that?"
Severus had to admit, it was pretty impressive. It's hard to put one of the excruciating gumdrops into your mouth, let alone forty-three.
"He's going to explode," Severus said with a hint of interest.
"I know," Regulus said hungrily, as though hoping the combustion would happen sooner rather than later, leaving him with a story sure to entertain dozens.
Severus felt the fifth-year glance at him repeatedly as the other boys began to root for and cheer on Crouch, who was steadily growing redder and redder in the face as tears began to stream down his face. Even several of the older Slytherins heartily rooted their housemate on.
"Say," Regulus said suddenly through the commotion. "Might I have a word with you alone?"
Severus had a deep, burning feeling that he knew what Regulus wanted to talk about, but didn't argue when they walked away from the entertaining scene and into the area of the boys' dormitory. Regulus leaned against the wall, which was cushioned and covered with elaborate deep green tapestries, some with gold embroidery and others with silver and other vibrant colours, but all on the dark green velvet.
"Listen, your letter…"
He knew it.
"I'm sorry about your mother. I found something about it in the Prophet, too. Obituaries. I've taken to reading them…mostly to see how each side is…you know, 'doing'." Regulus smirked for a second but then grew serious.
He didn't know about that detail.
"What?"
"There was a bit in it about your mother," Regulus elaborated, and rummaged through his robe pocket, pulled out a crinkled, torn-out piece of the Prophet, and handed it to Severus. "Kept it in case you didn't read it…which I'm assuming you didn't, based on your reaction."
Severus looked at the piece of paper, ignoring a bit of an ad for Becca's Best New Year sale and a cut-off article about how to efficiently protect your small business from invaders, and found the obituary section…and there is was.
Eileen Prince Snape, wife of Tobias Snape and mother of sixth-year Hogwarts student Severus Snape, died on Christmas morning due to poisoning. An enquiry was deemed unnecessary due to conjecture of self-infliction. Where the poison was developed is not known. Eileen Snape was 46.
"I asked Mother if she knew who she was. She said she did but refused to say anything else after that. I'm guessing she's not too fond of her for…you know," Regulus said with a small shrug. "Apparently the Princes were rather influential and your mother halted the winning streak."
And as if he didn't have enough suppressed rage for his mother…she just had to come from an influential pure-blood family!
"You can keep it, by the way," Regulus waved at it breezily.
"Thanks," Severus muttered, stuffing the paper into his trouser pocket. He felt slightly ashamed of his mother and couldn't help but wonder what Regulus's mother really thought of his blood-traitor mother.
What she thought of him.
Regulus licked his lips quickly, glanced around, and began to whisper. "Was it an all-Muggle funeral?"
Severus hesitated before answering. Regulus knew that Severus wasn't pure-blood. Most of Slytherin house knew it. It just wasn't spoken of…and he was thankful for it. But it always came as a shock when it was implied.
"Yeah," Severus said. "It was."
"Sorry 'bout that," Regulus winced as though lemon had just been squirted into a cut on his arm; he truly looked pained and Severus began to wonder whether or not Regulus had ever, in his life, been in contact with a Muggle. "Hope it wasn't too unbearable around them."
He thought of Lily's surprising presence at the crematorium, the New Year evening the next day… That ruddy kiss she gave him before the exhausted teens had taken to shutting their eyes and eventually slumbering in the Evanses' living room from the hour and the alcohol.
"No, it could have been worse, I suppose," Severus replied quickly.
"It must feel…like something else, yeah?" Regulus sighed, trying to be sympathetic.
"Yeah…something else," Severus said.
Suddenly, a barrage of groans and clapping broke out and Wilkes came running down towards them. "You've got to see this! Gumdrops flying everywhere! Crouch sounds like he is going to pass out!"
"C'mon, let's see this," Regulus grinned, nodding towards Severus.
"I'll pass. I'm actually pretty…"
Exhausted? Upset? Bored? Feel like I'm going to go crazy if I have to stay here any longer and listen to you talk about my mother's death or wonder what your mother thinks of it? Contemplating how the hell the Prophet knew about my mother's death?
"Tired…yes, I think I'm going to take a rest. See you tomorrow," Severus said, and spun around towards the descending staircase, not looking behind him, and made his way towards the sixth-year dormitories.
He felt dizzy, tired…overwhelmed. It came all of a sudden.
He had to sit down, lie down, and fall asleep…
He woke up with a bang.
Literally; his head banged against something hard. What was it? Ground? A table surface? No.
His eyes finally focused and he found himself in a familiar room. A room he wanted to be as far away from as possible. Why was he here?
"Hello!"
Severus winced, the back of his head still searing with pain, and looked around to see…
"Oh bloody hell, not you again!"
But it was her again. That damned "Anima", in her same shimmering white robes and long, ethereal blonde hair. She was smiling at him as though he were the most amusing thing in the world.
"I told you we'd meet again, Severus Snape," she told him. "Animas always keep their promises. I thought you read up on them?"
"How did you know about that?"
"I know lots of things about you, Severus," she said slowly, with an almost mad gleam in her eye.
"If only you could be detained for harassment," Severus muttered, and stared around the room. "Now, would you care to explain to me why I'm here? Back in my room. Well, my room in…"
"We're in your room in the summer of 1964," the Anima said blissfully. "How does it feel?"
"Fabulous," Severus said with a roll of the eyes.
"Now, let's find you and your parents, shall we?" she said, walking out of the door. He continued to stare around him…comprehending the peach and olive green wallpaper and the toy box…small bed…
He gently caressed the edge of his old, deep mahogany bedpost as the pads of his fingers fathered the dust collecting there; some parts thicker than others. He even felt a cool, warm breeze trickle in through the open window, outside lay the poor town he still lived in with its brooding brick homes and the sight of the looming mill tower just blocks away. And yet, something about the hideous town and the hideous cars parked outside, and the hideous, dull landscape of dying grass in the distance, something felt…better.
"Come now, Severus," the Anima insisted as her head poked through the door frame.
He had forgotten she was still there. He had forgotten he was just dreaming.
So he followed her, down the stairs and into the backyard area and his breath felt like it was grabbed from his throat as he looked at the scene. This is what the yard used to look like…covered with a little bit of scattered grass and some flowers in the yard and a small, rusty table with a couple of equally rusty chairs. That was all they needed…
In front of him sat his mother…his mother when she was so much younger, sitting with her dress draped over her legs and pulling a loose tendril of hair out of her face from the warm, summer breeze. Next to her sat Tobias, a hat on his head shading his face from the sun's rays. And he was actually smiling.
In front of them both was himself. Himself as a bloody four-year-old, looking terribly disgruntled. It was safe to say that nothing much has changed from his countenance.
"Come on now. What is this one called?"
And it was his mother. Not his mother in a body bag or looking worn out and devastated. His mother how he remembered her before, holding up a white flower between her fingers.
"No!" he saw himself say.
"It's obvious he doesn't want to talk about anymore bloody flowers, Eileen," Tobias sighed. "Can we just listen to the end of the football match?"
"I'm not doing any harm!" Eileen insisted, twirling the flower between her fingers before turning towards her son once more. "Come on, Severus. You were being such a good boy earlier."
"No more bloody flowers!" he insisted. "No more! No more! No more!"
"Alright already!" Eileen sighed.
"You don't want to name flowers, do you, Sevvie?" Tobias said as he picked up his son and placed him into his lap. "You just want to listen to Manchester kick Yorkshire's arse at the match, don't you?"
"Language, Tob!" Eileen said over her young son's giggles and squirms.
"Oh shut it," Tobias grinned, promptly smoothed out Severus's hair, and kissed Eileen on the cheek. "Who are you rootin' for?"
"Yorkshire," Eileen said hesitantly.
"BAH! And you, Sevvie?" Tobias asked. "Who d'you want ta win?"
"No more bloody flowers! No more bloody flowers! No more bloody flowers!"
"See, look what you've done!" Eileen said teasingly. "Now he's going to say that all day long!"
"H'speaks his mind," Tobias said proudly. "Nothin' ever wrong wi'that."
"This is disgusting," Severus hissed at the Anima. "Why are you forcing me to see this? Why, why, why?"
"Even as a teenager you still have a tendency to repeat yourself don't you?" the Anima observed.
"Answer my question," Severus growled.
"Well," the Anima sighed, sitting on the nearby chair. It was filthy, but she didn't seem to mind. He was actually surprised that she was sitting. She seemed so light that it felt as though she would fall right through the dirty plastic chair. "For one, I thought it would be important for you to remember a side of your father that wasn't so—"
"—Cruel? Moronic? Drunk?—"
"—That wasn't so harsh."
"That's a nice way of putting it," Severus snorted. "What do you call him slapping my mum across the face when I was twelve? The bastard started treating Mother like shite the minute she told him the truth and what does she get? Bruises."
"Severus, your father didn't just behave that way when she told him that you and she were magical," the Anima said quietly.
"Of course he did," Severus. "That's something that I do remember!"
"Severus, you must understand that their marriage was going downhill before that moment," the Anima said firmly.
"What are you talking about?" Severus asked.
"You'll see soon enough. And the second reason as to why I brought you here was because I thought you'd like to see your mother again…in happier times," the Anima said softly, ignoring his last comment. "I thought you'd appreciate it."
"Won't I see my mum again during your next little adventure?" Severus asked.
"Yes, you will," the Anima said. "But she won't be happy."
"Why not? Why can't I see a memory from a year later? Or two years later? Or—"
"Because that isn't what I have planned," the Anima said.
Severus felt like pulling out his hair. "You are absolutely infuriating! Not what you had planned?"
"I know how this journey will progress, so I'd greatly appreciate it if you would trust me," the Anima said firmly. "You should feel lucky you're even seeing your mother again, Severus."
He wanted to argue with her, tell her that no, he didn't appreciate any of this. Any of her disruptions of his dreams.
But…he looked at his mother again…and took in the delicate smile lines across her cheeks and her thick brows lifting as she now held Severus's younger self in her arms and put a flower in his hair.
"Christ, he's not a ruddy girl, Eileen," Tobias said, plucking the flower out of his son's hair and tossing it over his shoulder. "He's a man, aren't you, Sevvie?"
"No more bloody flowers!"
"Exactly!" Tobias grunted.
"Too much testosterone here, I reckon," Eileen sighed and took hold of another nearby flower. "No more bloody flowers, eh?"
Severus shook his head.
"Well, what about NOW?" And she pulled his shirt up and tickled his belly with the flower's head and Severus began to laugh and shriek like crazy. He fell to the grass and began to kick and squirm as his mother didn't let up on her tickling frenzy.
"You're goin' to kill the boy, Eileen!" Tobias said, moving closer to the radio and pulling it up to his ear.
"Nonsense!" Eileen laughed, and stopped the laugh-inducing assault upon her son. She still held the flower's stem between her long, bony fingers as she lay next to him on her elbow, her head on her open palm.
"Now," she continued quietly, holding the flower up to Severus' face. "What is this one called?"
Severus snatched the flower from between her fingers and looked at it with furrowed brows of concentration. He felt the petals and opened his mouth.
"Well, what is it?" Eileen said. "You know this one."
"This!" Severus said triumphantly. "Is a lily!"
"Good job, sweetheart!" Eileen grinned and hugged him. "Why is it a lily?"
"Because 'swhite. Wif the little yellow thingies!" Severus said as though it were quite obvious.
"Well done!" Eileen said, placing him on her lap once more, smoothing out his hair with a small smile on her face; the usual sullen expression completely nonexistent when he was near her. As the memory progressed, Severus vaguely remembered that day, though prior to the dream his only recollection was of flowers and the warm, wet feel of a late summer afternoon. Tobias was still listening and talking intently to the radio as though it were his best mate. Present day Severus watched his younger self idly look at and touch the petals while humming a tune to himself.
His mother kissed the top of his head gently and he heard her whisper, ever so quietly, "It's a beautiful flower, isn't it?"
"Yes," Severus said seriously.
"It's a ruddy flower," Tobias said with a derisive snort. "Why care about flowers when you can care about football?"
"And what is your point?" Eileen asked. "Flowers are important."
"Why?" Severus asked, looking up at his mother suddenly.
"Well," Eileen sighed. "They just are."
"I like this flower, Mummy," Severus said as he pulled several pieces of grass out of the ground with little, stringy dirt clots along the ends.
"Do you really? More than all the others?" Eileen said, trying to hold back laughter.
"Yes," Severus concluded. "No more bloody flowers!"
As Severus ripped the petals from the flower and put them into neat piles, Eileen laughed and kissed the top of his head again.
"Get me out of here," Severus told the Anima quietly.
"Calm down. I'm sure this is bringing up some tough emotional distress but I thought you'd—"
"Thought I'd what, huh?"
"Appreciate it."
"Appreciate it? You thought I'd appreciate seeing my worthless blood-traitor mother again?" Severus yelled as he walked back into the house, attempting to kick a nearby chair but, must to his disappointment, his leg went right through it. "You know what? I say good riddance she died! Good fucking riddance. She was hardly a mother to begin with!"
He had no idea why he said it, but the words seemed to just fall from his lips and he couldn't see to stop it.
He knew he wasn't serious…he couldn't have been.
Or maybe he really did resent his mother to that degree. Maybe he was ashamed of him to the point of being thankful she was gone.
Severus Snape obviously didn't know what to think anymore.
"I want to wake up," Severus said. The Anima opened her mouth to protest but was immediately cut off. "NOW."
"We will meet ag—"
"Yes, yes, yes, we'll meet again and all that bollocks. Just wake me the—"
"—Fuck up!"
Severus immediately opened his eyes to see a faint, dark blue light shine through the opened bits of his curtains.
"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, MATE!" Demetrius grumbled from his bed. "Wanker."
Embarrassed, confused, and with a sore throat, Severus turned over on his side with his eyes open, not wanting to risk seeing anymore memories that night.
XXX
"Look at him," James said snidely. "He's really taking advantage of their current position isn't he?"
James Potter's gaze was fixed on none other than Lily and Alexander strolling out of the Great Hall, hand in hand and looking cheery to a nearly nauseous state. As he watched the new couple exit the grand room, James decided it was an appropriate time to stab his chicken with his fork.
It was incredibly unsatisfying. As was the result of James stabbing Peter's bread.
"Wouldn't you?" Remus asked as he cautiously moved his plate further away from James's reach.
"Sure…but…" He wracked his brain for excuses. "How long has she known him? SERIOUSLY? About two days now? His hands are all over her. The poor girl is going to get a fucking rash."
"Shut. Up," Sirius grunted into his shepherd's pie.
"I bet he has some sort of …sex disease. From his mum, no doubt. He's Welsh, isn't he? Maybe he's been having a go with some sheep!"
Sirius sighed. "I can hardly eat this anymore with Jacobson's monster, STD, sheep-ridden cock on my mind. And that was a particularly good sheherd's pie you ruined. How do you feel, huh? Pretty proud, don't you?"
"Heh, sheep? Shepherd's pie? Get it?" Peter chimed in.
"Yes," Remus said.
James Potter could care less about Sirius's pie or the chorus of girls behind him who he, as usual, heard sigh whenever Sirius as much as opened his mouth. He was absolutely livid. And hell, he wasn't afraid to admit it: he was jealous. Jealous to the point of considering making a dartboard of Alexander Jacobson's face for target practice.
"I say you apologise," Remus suggested as they made their way up to the Gryffindor tower. "She's a forgiving girl."
James and Sirius gave Remus a look.
"Won't hurt to try?"
"Apologise? But what if she doesn't—what are you looking at?—accept it," James said, briefly telling off a first-year whose gaze lingered on him much too long for James's liking. "What if she laughs…or hexes me…or…or what if she explodes or something?"
"She won't explode," Remus said. "Unless you give her another skimpy piece of clothing or something equally degrading."
"Guess you'll have to keep my hands away from Wormtail's underwear drawer, eh?" Sirius said as his tongue probed a piece of food stuck between his teeth. "You know him: loves all things lacy and frilly and feminine."
"What?" Peter frowned.
"Don't 'what' me," Sirius countered. "First step: denial. Second step: underwear drawer inspection."
"Stop flirting with each other and hurry up!" James said, leading the pack up to the dormitory. As he said the password and entered the portrait hall, the familiar scent of the Gryffindor common room reached his nostrils. It wasn't something that noticeable if one didn't pay attention, but James always savoured the distinct smell of it: firewood mixed with the faint smell of ink and candy the students would always seem to have at handy.
It was a nice smell. Much better than the smell of the Quidditch locker rooms, that was for sure, or the smell of cheap, heavy perfume reeking from a group of third-year girls sitting at a large table covered in books. They suddenly started to whisper and look up every couple of seconds at (who other than) Sirius Black. One blonde girl lightly nudged her brown-haired companion, who giggled and blushed, still glancing at Sirius.
"What's their problem?" Sirius asked in a would-be careless manner, but James knew he liked the attention he received by the girls.
"Dragon pox," Remus said with a small chuckle. "I hear it causes delirium."
"Yeah, probably," Sirius laughed, and winked at the table of chattering girls, who, in turn, squealed quietly to one another and soon began arguing over who exactly the grey-eyed sixth-year had winked at.
"I think that counts as paedophilia," Peter warned.
"You would know, wouldn't you? Think nobody else has noticed Filch's liking for you?" Sirius asked.
Peter gulped and suddenly looked rather green.
James turned his attention away from the girls to see Lily quietly sitting in a lush red-velvet armchair, which she seemed to have moved away slightly from the herd; away from Alexander for once that week. She was smiling slightly at an article she seemed to be reading in Teen Witch Weekly.
"Well, I've got a date with Wormtail's pants drawer," Sirius said, and ran up the stairs to the boys dormitory, with Peter struggling to catch up behind him.
"So she won't explode?" James asked Remus, who seemed to decide that he didn't feel like running up several flights of stairs at the moment.
"Probably not, but I'll stand guard just in case," Remus said.
"Just a second," James said, pushing his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, and walking over to Lily. A few students glanced at the Quidditch player's stance of determination as he quickly strode towards her.
"Ahem."
Lily looked up, her pleasant look quickly darkening into a slight frown as she pulled a strand of hair away from her face.
"Potter."
"Evening, Evans," he said, hoping to sound more confident than he really felt. It was amazing how bloody nervous she made him feel sometimes. He often felt on top of the world, as though no wrong could occur as he shamelessly chatted up the redhead…but it was times like this when she looked like she was searching for the closest exits that he felt his throat choke up and his heart flutter more than it usually does when in her presence.
"Well, what do you want?" Evans asked sharply.
"Just to talk…" James said breezily, trying to give her a relaxed smile as his hands were becoming shallow puddles of sweat. "May I sit?"
"I'm guessing that if I said no you'd still insist," Lily sighed and waved her hand unenthusiastically towards the nearest arm chair. James summoned it over, straightened out his robes, and loosened his tie. Running his hand through his hair so it stood up even more on end, James heaved a large sigh.
"So…how was your Christmas?"
"It was good for the most part," Lily said, ignoring mentioning his gift. "Good lot. Got some records and books and some money for clothes and such."
"And the rest of your hols?" James asked.
"Nice, yours?" Lily said, looking back at her magazine.
"Amazing," James said with a grin.
"Listen, I know that you popped by to do more than just talk about what I found under my Christmas tree," Lily snapped. "Just say what you wanted to say already."
James looked away from her face, not wanting to see how frustrated she looked. So his eyes settled for her legs, which she slowly crossed, causing her skirt to lift a bit at the hem.
"Stop staring at my knees," Lily demanded.
James elevated his gaze.
"Or my chest."
He finally looked at her face, specifically the third freckle to the left of her right left eyebrow. She had lovely eyebrows.
"Look," James said. "I know you're probably still angry at me for—"
"Damn straight I'm angry," Lily snapped with a huff and furiously flipped the thin pages of the magazine. This week's cover featured two teens wearing stylish new formal robes, who appeared alarmed by the vigorous shaking of the periodical. "It was embarrassing!"
"Was it the colour?" James asked, remembering what Sirius said about the hot pink clashing with Lily's hair.
Lily lifted a deep red eyebrow. "The colour? You think I was angry about the colour?"
"Nevermind," James said quickly, suddenly assuming that the colour was the least of her issues with the gift. Alarmed, James glanced at Remus, who seemed to be aware of Lily's escalating rage. However, James found it incredibly unhelpful when Remus began to wave his arms around in different directions to try help out the Chaser.
James had absolutely no idea what the hell Remus meant by imitating rabid poultry.
"Look, Evans. Remus said that an apology should be in order so…I'm sorry. I never meant to upset you. Truly."
"Remus said?" Lily asked, disbelief and, James could have sworn, disappointment flashed across her face. "Remus had to be the one to knock some sense into you?"
Oops.
"I didn't…I mean, I thought about apologising too, but Remus—"
James glanced at Remus once more, to see the werewolf distracted by a little girl asking for help of some sort with her homework.
Lily sighed and lowered her eyes to her lap. "You know, I'd love it if it was you who thought it would be wise to apologise," she said quietly.
"I'm sorry," James gulped. "Really, I swear I am."
Lily's eyes rose towards his as she shook her head miserably.
"When aren't you, Potter?"
James felt his insides grow cold as the two Gryffindors stared at each other for several seconds, neither saying a word but just staring each other down, waiting to see who makes the first move; who would speak first; who would be bold enough to continue the steadily deteriorating conversation.
"How are you and Jacobson?"
He was first, it seemed.
"Great. He's really sweet," Lily said with a small smile, sighing as though abruptly lost in her thoughts.
James thought he was going to be sick.
"…Good. That's…that's good," James lied.
"He's really nice to be around," Lily said faintly.
"Better than Collins?" James asked.
Lily looked surprised by the sudden mention of a former boyfriend of hers who was now a seventh-year Hufflepuff. The relationship hardly lasted more than a couple of weeks and the two were hardly seen doing anything together. It was hardly what one would call a real relationship.
"That was nothing compared to this," Lily said, glancing between him and the magazine in her soft hands; her chipped nail polish covered fingernail kept flicking the paper and she almost looked…nervous. "But I'm surprised you even remembered I went out with Cavan."
"Of course I remembered," James snorted, crossing his arms across his chest and looking away from her. "You two were horrible for each other."
"I don't believe you should be the judge of that," Lily chided.
"Well I don't see you and Collins holding hands down the corridors, do I? To be honest, I don't think you and Jacobson are very good together, either," James said, trying to look her straight in the eye now.
"Potter," Lily warned, her patience waning.
"I'm just telling you what I think," James said. "Last time I checked that wasn't a crime."
"And who do you think I should be with?" Lily challenged.
Is she serious?
"Me."
Lily looked away before beginning to gather her belongings
"Wait! Where are you going?" James asked hastily, standing up and in the process and nearly tipping the armchair over.
She refused to look at him. "As usual, Potter, all you care about is yourself!"
"That's not true!"
"Oh, shut up! You don't care about me at all," Lily cried.
"Are you mad, woman?" James exclaimed, bringing attention to himself. "Of course I do or else I wouldn't tell you that you and Jacobson are horrible together!"
"You big, slimy whelk!" Lily snarled, finishing gathering her belongings and pointing in his face. "You're too caught up in your own bloody pride to even tell or care that I'm happy with Alexander!"
"Don't be stupid, Evans," James said with a smile. "I'm happy that you're happy!"
She huffed and looked at him with a hint of scepticism.
"Yep," James continued. "Even if you are with a fucking prat, I support it."With a loud growl, Lily pushed the obstructing boy away from her using her magazine and books as a helping force and stormed her way up the stairs to the girls' section of the dormitories.
"Evans..." James called after her, attracting quite an audience in the common room. "Evans! EVANS! Come on now!"
She didn't turn back towards him and instead walked even faster up the stairs.
"You could have been a little nicer, you know."
James spun around to see a first-year he didn't recognise looking up at him brazenly.
"Pardon?"
The girl's friends all looked at her with bulging eyes and knowing stares, understanding that her going up against a popular student like James Potter wasn't just brave…but horribly stupid as well.
"You should have been nicer to her," she sniffed. "She doesn't seem to be doing anything wrong, you know."
Her friends continued to hiss at her to stop, but the thin, round-cheeked, brown-eyed girl with long, braided pigtails seemed to be on a roll. The corners of her mouth seemed to be in a permanent, triumphant looking smirk.
James bent over and rested his shoulders against the large oak table and stared the brazen girl straight in the eye. "Who are you?"
"Camilla Jenkins," she said with her long, pointy nose in the air. "And you are…?"
"James Potter," James grunted. "The bloke that will make your first year your worst nightmare if you ever—"
"You have funny hair," Camilla giggled.
James immediately began to run his hand through his hair angrily. His hair was NOT funny. It was charming, exciting, and gorgeously unkempt and…how dare she insult his hair?
"Your hair is pretty fucking funny-looking too!" James spat back.
"No, it's not," Camilla said very matter-of-factly. "Yours is so…up! It's like you've been electrocuted or something!"
"Why you little!" James started as he made to grab his wand from his pocket when he was halted by…
"James…"
"Moony, don't get involved. This is my battle and mine alone!" James said fiercely, staring at the girl with his teeth bared.
"She's a little girl!" Remus insisted.
"But…but…" James whined. "She said I looked like I was eletromacuted!"
"No, I said you hair looked like it was electrocuted," the girl corrected.
"See? She did it again!" James waved his hand at her. "You little snot-nosed first-year better—"
James wasn't able to finish his statement on account of the fact that he was being hastily dragged away by Remus…by his hair.
"OW! OI, DON'T THINK I WON'T FIND YOU AGAIN, CAMILLA JENKINS. I'VE GOT MY EYES ON YOU! MARK MY WORDS! YOU WON'T SEE THE LAST OF—"
Before he knew it, Remus stumbled over a nearby transfiguration book, causing both boys to stumble to the ground atop each other.
"'Lo, Moony," James said, ignoring the loud chuckling across the common room. "How goes it down there."
"Hard."
"WHAT?"
"Hard because there is a bloody book stuck in my back," Remus grunted, straining to reach his arm behind himself and rid his back of the painful, leather bound book.
"Oh, I thought you meant—"
"I know what you meant."
"Okay."
"Wait, what is that I feel on my waist?"
"Erm, my wand?"
"Oh."
"Wait, no, my wand is in my back pocket."
"Oh…oh. Wow."
"This is number fifty-four on 'the things to never mention again' list. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
XXX
Severus woke up that Sunday morning, feeling refreshed and calm, to an eerily quiet dormitory. He sat himself up fully in the bed and looked around only to find the deep emerald hangings around him as usual, as well as a book he had read late into the night at his side.
"Strange," Severus whispered and pulled back his hangings only to be bombarded with the sight of Evan and Demetrius charging at him with a bucket.
A bucket of extremely cold water.
"Happy birthday," Evan chuckled as the birthday boy was hit with an incredible shock. "We're making this a new tradition, I reckon."
"Thanks," Severus said stiffly with a furious shiver and grabbed his wand to quickly dry himself off.
He soon made his way down to breakfast alone, with an odd spring to his step despite the rude awakening as he walked through the dungeons. His good mood slowly declined, however, as he made his way into the Great Hall and noticed that it was another cold, dreary day. The curse of a winter birthday, he always thought.
As he sat at his table, he quickly thanked the couple of students who happened to remember his birthday (Narcissa and Regulus) and tucked into an especially hearty Sunday morning English breakfast.
"So, how does it feel, mate?" Regulus asked.
"No different," Severus said. "It never does until you get really old, I'm guessing."
"Say," Regulus said in a lower tone. "Meet me behind the Quidditch shack later, yeah? After dinner."
"Sure," Severus said slowly, wondering what Regulus could want at that time.
On schedule, the morning owls swooped in with a flurry of wings and feathers and the occasional squawk. They dropped hundreds of copies of the Sunday Prophet, as well as care packages and letters from various senders. Severus's keen eye even spotted a bright red letter headed towards an apprehensive Gryffindor. But he was incredibly surprised, however, when he spotted two owls approaching…him. One owl was one thing, but two? That surely had to be a record…well…second place record if one counted the time in which the Marauders decided it would be humorous to sent several owls with stupid letters to him over the span of a good eight hours in his fourth year.
First came a large spotted owl with a very small, rolled up piece of parchment and right on his tail came a large, regal black owl with a disposition of utmost importance. And with this importance came the desire to brush the smaller, lighter owl out of its way as Severus was about to untie the letter from its foot. He sighed and, not wanting to hurt the owl, moved his attention to the barn owl. He quickly reached out to grab the larger parcel when the spotted owl pushed its new enemy back, accidentally scratching Severus's finger in the process.
"Bloody birds!" Severus growled as he continued to try to grab the parcel again, only to be pecked by the black owl. "Dammit!"
Suddenly, all hell broke loose as the two owls began to…well…duke it out.
"Cool, owl fight!" yelped a hyper Slytherin boy, summoning his friends over to watch.
"Piss off!" Severus muttered and quickly stunned the birds and plucking the mail from their talons.
"What a horrible thing to do!" exclaimed a curly-haired girl several seats down. "That's clearly owl abuse! I should report you to Professor Slughorn!"
Severus rolled his eyes. "There is nothing in the school rules against stunning misbehaving animals," he said, consciously grabbing the fabric of his robes and making sure she got a good look at his prefect badge (which lacked proper polishing or shine…compared to Narcissa's, which would surely blind any passer-by in the right lighting). "But if you'd like to dispute that with Professor Slughorn, be my guest. I won't hesitate to inform him of your insolence and distrust in your superiors. How's that sound?"
He had to admit, he felt awfully proud of himself to really put his prefect title into good use. The girl quickly shut her mouth and tucked into her plate of food, whispering to her friend sitting next to her.
"Ah, now I see why you're so popular, Severus," Narcissa said as she took a delicate bite into her bread. "Happy birthday, by the way. I'm sure you'll be pleased with the larger parcel."
"Is it from you?" Severus asked with surprise. Neither of them felt it necessary to exchange gifts on one's birthday.
"Oh, no!" Narcissa said, looking slightly embarrassed. "You'll see. But who is the smaller one from?"
Severus looked down at the much smaller envelope and with a rush of excitement noticed his name in very familiar handwriting.
"Must be from that book shop in Hogsmeade. I owled them about whether or not they had that new book from that…man," he lied. "I'm going to go back to the dorms though."
He started to stand when Narcissa stood up with him. "I'm quite finished myself. I'll go with you."
The two made their way out of the Great Hall together in near silence until it was broken by the blonde. "We hardly talk anymore."
"We never talked that much to begin with."
"Maybe we should start."
"Maybe."
"How was your holiday?"
"Shite; yours?"
"Actually…not as good as I would have liked," Narcissa sighed and wrapped her fingers around a strand of her shiny blonde tresses.
"Oh?"
"Yes, you see," Narcissa said quietly, "I sort of expected Lucius to propose."
"Propose?" Severus asked, nearly chuckling. "You're sixteen."
"And?" Narcissa frowned.
It was sometimes a shock when he truly thought about how early some pure-blood families married and had children. He remembered being amazingly grossed out when Regulus told him that his great-grandparents were married and had their first child at the age of thirteen.
"Well, what made you think he would?" Severus asked.
"He's been talking to my father quite a lot," Narcissa said excitedly as they entered the portrait hole. "I hoped it was to get a blessing! But then…nothing. All he gave me for Christmas was a dozen or so gifts…amongst other things."
Severus noticed a dainty blush creep along Narcissa's porcelain skin and a dreamy yet sultry smile appear on her face.
"Please, go into detail with Reina and Amelia. I don't want to hear about your personal moments with Lucius Malfoy," Severus groaned.
"Severus!" Narcissa squealed. This was quite odd since Narcissa never squeals. "I'm actually going to go meet up with Reina for some help in History of Magic so I must get ready. I'll see you later."
"Bye," Severus said, watching her walk down to the girls' dormitory.
She waved goodbye and as she quickly disappeared from his sight. Trying desperately to get the image of Narcissa and Lucius's tangled limbs and lots of blond hair from his head, he walked briskly up to his room, which he was pleased to find empty.
He shrugged off his robes and pulled off his shoes and socks as he lay in bed, curtains closed, and looked at his two pieces of mail. He decided to open the one clearly from Lily Evans first; the curiosity gnawing and clawing inside of him as he ripped the letter open and nearly tore the little parchment note in half:
Meet me in the usual place at 3.00. I've got something you may want to see.
Love, Lily
He felt slightly disappointed, but soon even more confused as to what he was even expecting from that envelope. With a sigh he picked up the next small parcel and lazily looked at the underside only to find…
"Merlin."
It was, in fact, a parcel from Lucius. Severus eagerly ripped apart the brown wrapping and his eyes fell upon a letter and what appeared to be a book of some sort.
His fingers promptly ripped open the prestigious looking wax seal and pulled out a sheet of, his eyes pouring over the neat words of cursive ink…
Severus,
It's been long since I last made contact with you, I know, but things have been exceedingly busy. I thought today would be an ideal day to write, since, if I'm correct, today is your seventeenth birthday. Congratulations, Severus.
However, I've written also because, at this stage of your school career, you should be interested in what you would like to do after your Hogwarts days end. I cannot say much in this letter in case this is intercepted, but perhaps you may want to consider a more unconventional career. Of course, you'd still be putting your skills (when we last spoke you were still interested in Defence and Potions) to good use. I'm sure I won't have to reveal much in this letter for you to know what I am ultimately implying. You have time, of course, to think about this but not much and I hope you consider making the right one.
I must go to an important meeting this moment, but along with this letter is a book I'm sure you'll find fascinating. It's titled The Burden of the Superior by Anslem Owston, a man I had the pleasure of being introduced to a few months back. He is one of the most intelligent and passionate men I've met in a very long time.
Oh, and when the Blacks dropped by during their winter hols, Regulus seemed eager to show me a section of the obituaries in which your mother was mentioned. I'm sorry for your loss, but she is of ill conversation amongst many proud pure-bloods. According to my father, her marriage was actually one of great upset amongst many families.
Nevertheless, have an enjoyable birthday, and read the book right away!
L.M.
Severus could honestly say that he had never read a letter that sent him through such a range of emotions in under 300 words.
He showed up ten minutes early. He wasn't quite sure why, but as he sat in the room that was now dubbed 'the usual place', something within him stirred.
Part of him wanted it to end. These weekly study sessions had morphed and altered and caused a series of events that wouldn't have happened if he had just kept quiet. He was good at not talking to people so why on Earth should Lily Evans change that? If it hadn't been for these damned get-togethers…or…or Slughorn was to blame as well! If he hadn't invited his mother that day and hadn't introduced Evans to… Or if his mother didn't…if she didn't know the Evanses…
And then he realised (with extreme frustration), that even if they didn't get together on Thursdays…nothing he could have done would have prevented Slughorn from introducing Lily to his mother. And he couldn't help it that…his mother died or the fact that she somehow…God knows how…knew Lily's mother.
Maybe the meet-ups weren't the problem. The problem was fate. He just couldn't get away from her no matter what happened. It was as though their lives were suddenly, somehow, forever intertwined. It was maddening!
As if right on cue, Lily Evans walked in, two braids bouncing along her shoulders.
"Hello," Lily said cheerily as she clutched two items against her chest. "I suppose I'll cut to the chase. Y'know that photo my dad took of us on New Year's Eve?" Severus nodded. "Well, Dad just sent me the photo yesterday by owl. He is surprisingly fond of owling."
She handed him the photo and watched his reaction
"I think I look like shite," Lily said warm-heartedly, pointing to herself in the photo. "Look at that smile!"
He took a look for himself and had no idea what the hell she was talking about. The Lily Evans he looked at in the photo looked…perfect. White teeth shining and her green eyes were noticeable under half-lidded yet energetic eyes. He, on the other hand, looked rather awkward: not smiling, yet not frowning. Instead, he looked incredibly awkward and nervous.
"You don't look that bad," Lily said slowly. "A bit tired though."
He nodded and gave the photo back to her, idly scratching the back of his neck.
"You look a bit sick," Lily pointed out with worried eyes as she looked at him.
Maybe it was her that was making him sick.
"Have you eaten yet today?" Lily asked with a hint of concern.
Why was he trying to ignore her questions?
"It's just that, you look really pale—"
What?
"Are you trying to be funny?" he snapped.
"Why would you think something like that?" Lily pondered as she tugged on her lower lip with her teeth.
"I always look pale," Severus stated.
Lily opened and closed her mouth rapidly before sputtering, "W-well yes…you are a bit on the pale side but…you really do look like you need some sleep or something."
Glancing up at her, he could see her eyes staring at the developing dark circles under his own. He knew they were deeper and darker than usual. But why must she always care?
"My sleeping schedule is none of your business."
"Are you having trouble sleeping?"
Yes.
"No."
"Is it…is it your mum? Are you having problems dealing with her d—?"
"DO YOU EVER SHUT UP?" Severus shouted, slamming his fist on the table, knocking over an ink well he remembered leaving in the room over the holidays, and caused it to spill all over his long-sleeved white shirt. "Fuck."
He quickly pulled out his wand and placed a bleaching charm on the cloth.
Lily blinked. "I'm…sorry. It's clear that I struck a nerve—"
"The only thing that is clear, Evans—"
"—Lily!—"
"The only thing that is clear, Lily, is that you're quite possibly the most annoying girl I've ever had the misfortune to know. Why can't you just worry about yourself for once? Stop with the selfless act and realize that you don't have to save everyone."
"Well somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!" Lily retorted as she boldly stepped closer to him.
"Witty, Evans," Severus scoffed derisively. "Real witty."
"I—I can understand why you're upset, but you have no right to take it all out on other people!" Lily said. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better about…anything? Anything at all?"
"Yes," Severus said. "You'd do me a favour if you'd leave this fucking room and pretend you don't care."
"But how can I just—"
"Try, Lily. Try really hard."
Lily stared at him hard for a moment. She had an incredible ability, Lily Evans did. With just one look, she could make you feel on top of the world or as though you were the most horrible, pathetic waste of a human being on the planet.
He certainly didn't feel like the former.
"Fine, I'll go," Lily whispered, gathering the few belongings that made their way out of her heavily decorated satchel and spun around, robes billowing slightly near the ankles, and headed towards the door. Her hand grasped the heavy, cold metal handle which resembled the shape of a crude snake. He noticed her stare at it for several seconds before she turned her head towards him. "But you know I can't do that…right, Severus?"
"Maybe you should consider it," Severus told her.
Lily smiled. "No."
She then handed him the other item which had rested in her hands during their fight. The slim package had a short piece of green ribbon wrapped around the slightly yellowing envelope and his name in her handwriting, written neatly with a Muggle ink pen. Lily looked at her handiwork fondly before dropping it to the ground with an anti-climactic plop. "It's nothing you haven't seen before, but…happy birthday, Severus."
He walked over to pick up the envelope and straightened himself upwards again, opening his mouth to speak, when he noticed the door closing shut in front of his face.
Severus untied the ribbon and hastily opened the envelope to find the same photo, with a short note on the back:
Dear Severus,
Happy birthday! I'm sorry I was unable to get you an original gift, but here is the photo my dad took of us that night you came round. I'm still convinced that I look like shite, personally, but my dad developed a copy and told me I should give you the other. You can throw it out if you really want to. I don't really mind.
With love,
Lily Evans
He turned the photo over again to see the words "December 31, 1976" in Lily's handwriting in thick black ink lurking in right hand corner. He then gently put the photo back into the envelope and blankly looked at it and the now limp green ribbon…and upon looking at it closely, he could smell the slight aroma of sweet wine, freshness, and something else equally intoxicating he couldn't put his finger on.
And he was suddenly disturbed by the fact that he found himself enjoying that smell.
Enjoying it a lot.
Too much.
"Oh, Christ."
Crisp, melting snow crunched as he as he trudged his way to the Quidditch shed that evening, wearing a couple of extra layers of clothing. The sun was almost out of sight from beyond the sloppy hilltops and mountains. And there Regulus was, right where he said he'd be, standing with his back against the shed wall.
"Regulus," Severus said, startling the younger boy slightly.
"You nearly scared the fucking day lights out of me," Regulus said, taking something out of the inner pocket of a post, warm robe. Severus recognized it as a box of cigarettes.
"Fag?" Regulus offered, popping a slender white stick in-between his lips and holding another out towards Severus.
He plucked the cigarette from between his fingers, and quickly lit it with his wand, inhaling deeply. He wondered where that bold move came from and tried to conceal a light cough.
Regulus did the same and exhaled in a long thin line.
"Since when do you smoke?" Severus asked as he took another long drag.
"Since Sirius left," Regulus replied. "He left his pack of fags…"
"Well aren't you just Mister Maturity," Severus muttered and nearly laughed at their current situation: two Slytherin boys, completely different from one another, smoking together. Since when could they even get away with this?
Everything has been so bizarre as of late.
"And you? This hardly looks like this is your first time," Regulus scoffed.
"'S not," Severus said.
"Hm," Regulus said as he flicked the ashes into the snow.
"So what did you need to discuss?" Severus asked, attempting to cut to the chase.
"Nothing!" Regulus chuckled. "Nothing at fucking all!"
There was the beautiful sort of silence and connectedness that one only experience every once in a while whilst amongst people and at a place that made you feel like there was a reason why they were there. Why he were wearing those old boots that are nearly too small for him and why he is too poor to buy another. And why the younger boy next to him was oddly the best company he'd had in what felt like ages. A reason for why you were born when you were, knew the people you knew, had the face you did, and the smile you let slip past the corners of your lips in rare moments. He, for a few moments as he stood there against that old shed smoking his anxiety away and talking about very little and nothing in particular; and almost felt happy.
And he knew it wouldn't last long. He knew that the second he stepped into that castle that the spell would be gone. But he thought he'd savour the rare moment with the boy one year his junior.
Maybe that was what every male on the birthday in which they became an adult
"Oh, Merlin! I think I found a chest hair last week!" Regulus exclaimed with a loopy smile. "It looks impressive I think. Rachel didn't notice though…"
Regulus seemed to now have a strange aptitude for ruining epiphanies.
"Did you manage to meet your goal?" Severus sighed.
"Well, while we were…you know…revving up…"
"Please don't use that word."
"Well we were sort of…starting when her little sister barged in yelling something about her doll."
"That's disgusting."
"Not as bad as when her parents walked in soon after…"
"You can stop now."
"Okay."
A/N EDIT 3/8/07: Remember to Read and Review, guys! I really appreciate your feedback, as always. And I hope you are all enjoying the recent Harry Potter news (although I AM pretty upset with some of the movie spoilers).