"Oh, Severus, come here," Mrs. Evans whispers, gathering the boy into her arms and holding him in a pool of black robes. Lily Hugs him, too, until he politely pulls away from both of them and thanks them for coming. Snape's mother worries her hands together in a large circle of witches and wizards who have come to pay their respects to her late husband and Mr. and Mrs. Evans teeter off to join them after a few more comforting words to the pale little boy their daughter so adores.
Severus stands awkwardly rigid as passing wellwishers continue to patt him on the back in consolation. He looks uncomfortable over the scrutiny the eyes are giving their modest home and he imagines what they are thinking with a snarled lip in their direction. Lily stands next to him and never lets go of his hand. When he pulls it away to shake hands with some towering older gentleman she puts her fingers against his back and rubs it softly. She doesn't expect him to mourn, not in a traditional sense, and she knows the history that had existed between Severus and his father so she knows he doesn't feel it like he should but he has to feel something, she tells herself, and she has to be there for him. She can't even imagine. She can't even imagine.
Over the summer Severus had shot up almost half a foot taller than her, and he looked especially lanky in his formal dress robes, all bones and young boy swimming in their depths. When he pulls away from her and walks into the hallway, away from the crowd, she follows politely. His hands in his pockets he stares at one of the framed photos on the wall; a still shot, because Severus's father hadn't allowed bewitched photos in the home. In it he stands with his son, both looking grave and unhappy. Severus smiles at it and Lily's eyes soften, imagining him lost in some moment of fond recollection. In reality Severus remembers how uncomfortable standing had been for the photo that day, lashes across his back from his father's belt so severe that their outlines had been swollen purple bruises and weeping blisters for weeks. He continues to smile while looking at it, bringing up a bony hand to touch it.
"Who won in the end, I wonder?" he hisses at it under his breath.
Lily steps closer, cocking her head and bringing a hand around him again. "What was that, Sev?" she asks, unsure of what she had heard. He doesn't answer. Instead he turns to look down at her and brings both of his hands to rest on her bare shoulders.
"You look amazing in this dress, Lil," he whispers. His face is full of dark shadows and behind them they can hear Severus's mother crying. He lets one of his hands drop down the lenth of Lily's arm, skirting it with his fingertips until he is holding her hand. She tries to muster her most supportive smile while watching him curiously.
"Can you believe I'm finally free of him?" Severus asks, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently.
"Oh Sev, it just hasn't hit you yet, you don't know what you're saying," she whispers, stepping closer to him and coaxing his head down with her free hand so she can rest her forehead againt his cheek. Severus keeps her knuckles against his lips, kissing them gently. He kisses down to her wrist.
"I'm free, now, Lily," he continues, his voice absolutely sultry. His mouth opens and she can feel his tongue on her pulse point, letting his teeth scrape her skin. She tries to bring him back by turning his face to look her in the eyes.
"Severus, please," she struggles.
Severus folds down on her, scooping her into his arms and pinning her against the wall; he kisses her hard on the mouth. She fights it instantly but his tongue is already in her mouth and his body covers her. He doesn't force it for long, it is a brief thing born out of excitement and disbelief and the need to share it with someone, the wonder of it jolting through him like electricity.
"Finally free," he whispers against her lips in excitement and he starts to laugh, then, pulling his mouth from hers as she stares at him with a mixture of horror and confusion. He pushes his hair back off his face and burries his whole head down into her neck and hair and he hugs her tight. Her initial distress melts and she finally wraps her arms around him again, letting him laugh against her.
"You're free, Sev," she echoes, trying to push the pecularity of the way the man had died out of her head as she embraces her friend.