Chapter 6:

A Lily Among the Rocks

"Name?"

"Severus Tobias Snape."

"Year of birth?"

"1960."

"Education?"

Severus put his graduation certificate, attached to his score sheet, on the table. His interviewer glanced at the papers, her quill continuing to creak on the parchment, scrawling words that Severus wished he could see.

The stern face of the Unspeakable remained expressionless even after a brief look at the documents, and she returned them to him without comment. What could she possibly say about a list of perfect scores?

"Blood status?"

The question puzzled Severus. No one had ever asked him that so bluntly.

"Excuse me?" He said reluctantly.

The Unspeakable remained indifferent. "Blood status?"

Severus' heart shrieked. He overcame the urge to demand the purpose of the question in an interview that was supposed to test only his magical and psychological abilities, and answered, "My mother was Elieen Prince, a pure-blooded witch."

The quill stopped after it had written the name, waiting for the second part of the answer.

"Well, Mr. Snape?" The interviewer demanded when he hesitated.

Severus felt a sharp impulse to lie, to say that his father was a pure blood wizard of the highest degree... But one look at the Unspeakable cold eyes made it clear that every word he said would be checked thoroughly before he would be hired.

"Tobias Snape," he said, the notion of failure already settling inside him. "A muggle."

The quill scribbled and stopped. Severus looked at it heavily until the interviewer picked it up and rolled the parchment.

"That would be enough," she said, vanishing the parchment. "You will receive our answer by owl within the next few weeks."

Severus left the office feeling bitter. He headed for the elevators with a quick stride, wanting to be as far away from the black passages and mysterious blue flames that had attracted and fascinated him so much before. He passed the doors he was so eager to open and the rooms he longed to investigate, the knowledge that he might never be allowed to do so filling him with frustration. Not for the first time in his life, his father failed him on his way to success and dragged him down to his abyss, making him feel like he was born to fail.

He went to the visitor's exit elevator, pressing the button with his fist. The elevator climbed up, leaving him to cook alone in his frustration.

He could have been an excellent wizard – the greatest – if not for the shadow cast on him by his father. The knowledge that the flaw was in his blood filled him with helpless rage, because it was the only thing he couldn't shape at will, even if he possessed the strongest magic.

The elevator door opened onto the pitiful London street. Severus felt that the metallic sky matched his gloomy mood perfectly as he walked between murky puddles and rolling trash, his black overcoat swirling around his feet. He needed some time to think, except that he had no place to go except his house, where he tried to stay as little as possible.

He wallowed in bitterness as he made the journey to the muggle underground train. He watched his muggle travel partners as the metal carriage rattled along. How simple they were, unaware of the depth of their existence and the possibilities of the universe to which they had been born, living their lives between labor and boredom, like ants. They weren't aware of the abilities of the gloomy man who sat among them, didn't know that with a thought alone he could do terrible and wonderful things. He had never felt so disgusted that he shared the same blood as them.

He got off the train at Cokeworth and began the long walk to his house at Spinner's End. The hopes he nourished during the long month he had waited for the interview to the Department of Mysteries crumbled under his feet with each step, turning into fine dust. The realization that vital information such as who were his father and mother was something any employer would want to know mocked him, and he told himself he should have thought of that before he made a fool out of himself. Maybe he deserved to walk so wretchedly along the deserted road, along the sickly fences and bushes; What kind of wizard would allow himself to reach such a miserable situation?

He decided to take the longer path that passed through the graveyard, knowing that at his father's house he would find no solace for his frustration and self-hatred. The graveyard was a narrow area surrounded by high walls, made into a gloomy maze by grey willows. Broken tombstones stood alone on industrial soil that overcame any plant that tried to take root in its unforgiving depths.

Severus followed the concrete paths, and as another part of the labyrinth was reveled to him behind a long-branched willow, he saw a figure cleaning a tombstone. He stopped dead, recognizing Lily Evans' red hair. He watched her, for a moment wondering whether it really was her or maybe a mirage of his frustrated imagination. She didn't notice him as he watched her, absorbed in the cleaning of the tombstone. It was usually like this – he would watch her from a distance, while she was unaware of his presence. Since the start of the rift between them he knew it would be better that way, because things would never be the same again.

He had two options; To go back and go another way, or to leave his hiding place and face her. After all, he couldn't stand there and look at her all day, no matter how much he wanted to. Then, as if she sensed him, she looked over her shoulder and straight at him. A small smile came over her face. Severus felt his legs pull him toward her, as if he were under a spell.

"I didn't think I'd see you here again," she told him as he came to stand beside her. The situation in which she was kneeling on the ground and he standing over her was ridiculous, so he sat next to her beside the grave.

"I came to visit my mother's grave," he lied. As far as she was concerned, he had left the neighborhood the night he stood on her doorway, and she didn't know how many times he had watched her without her knowledge through the window of his room as she passed through the street, always alone. He couldn't bear to think that she would know he didn't have enough gold to leave his father's miserable house and live like a wizard – that he couldn't even find a job to match his skills.

She gave him a soft look. "It's comforting, isn't it, to sit with them like that? You can talk to them, even though they can't hear you, and imagine that they're listening."

Severus nodded in silence, stopping himself from mentioning that not only couldn't she hear her, but Mrs. Evans had long since turned into dirt. Some people found it hard to grasp the passage between life and death, but Severus never had trouble understanding how flesh rotted into dust. It was a natural and necessary process, and even a kind woman like Mrs. Evans had to go through it, just like Eileen Snape.

"So where do you live now?" Lily changed the subject sensitively, apparently interpreting Severus silence as grief.

"I have an apartment in London," he lied, thinking of the ugly buildings opposite the visitors' entrance to the Ministry of Magic. "I'm in training for the Department of Mysteries."

Lily smiled in appreciation. A smile was such a natural gesture for her, but Severus never quite mastered it. "It's very impressive, Severus. I'm glad you found such a good job."

"And what about you?" He changed the subject and turned it to her, so that he wouldn't have to lie to her more than he already had. He wasn't sure why it bothered him. Perhaps he was afraid that if he lied indiscriminately, one of his lies would finally be revealed, and she would see what a failure he was.

Lily's smile widened and then turned into a glowing, shy beckon of joy as she turned her eyes away. They were the greenest thing in the cemetery yard.

"I'm getting married," she said to her mother's tombstone. "To James. In the fall."

"That's... Wonderful." Another lie. He knew Lily didn't believe him for a moment – he wouldn't have believed himself. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," Lily said, looking relieved at his mild reaction. "Would you come? To the wedding, that is."

"It would be rude of me to refuse the invitation." He already knew he wouldn't make it to the wedding with a last-minute excuse. Lily looked a bit downcast at his lack of enthusiasm. Severus hardened his heart; She knew him well enough, she shouldn't have expected more than that from him.

They walked the rest of the way to Spinner's End side by side. It was almost like the old days, when there were two children wandering the dirt roads and orphaned sidewalks, a pretty girl and an ugly boy walking side by side. In such a familiar situation, Severus couldn't ignore a shadow that clearly clouded Lily's heart, and he felt the need to try to remove it, even with the knowledge that he would fail.

"Were will you live?" He asked, breaking the silence uncharacteristically.

"We haven't found a house yet," she replied. "Tomorrow we're going to see some houses in the countryside. We both love it there. And the city isn't a place to raise children..." She paused with a pained look.

"You're thinking about children?"

"Yes, we are," she said enthusiastically, but uncertainly stained her delicate face. "I really want to be a mother..."

"But?"

Lily looked at him appreciatively. "I've forgotten how well you know me. Well, the point is, with all that's been happening... The war..." She pronounced the word as if it stung her tongue. "I wonder if it's the right time to have a child..."

"What does he think?"

"James? You know how he is, won't let anything stand in his way..." She smiled a little smile that lit a spark of jealousy in Severus' heart. "He says we mustn't let the war hold us back, make us put a stop on our lives. Except that... Well, we can't know when it will end, can we?" He suddenly realized that tears were filling her eyes.

"Do you know when he proposed to me?" She said, her voice close to breaking. Severus avoided looking at her, even though she was looking into his face. "On the evening of the day we graduated, he took me to Hogsmeade Park and asked if I would marry him, when across the street three fanatics were terrorizing our classmates and other innocent people at the Three Broomsticks..."

He could hear her fighting the tears. He never knew how to console her.

"I'm sorry," he said stupidly. His words hung in the air, abandoned.

She stopped walking. "Severus," she said. "Are you one of them?"

Severus turned to her. On the one hand, he was surprised that she hadn't demanded to know that before, and on the other hand, he was disappointed by her mistrust. But had he ever given her reason to trust him? He stood behind the words of the people she condemned, she had learned that on her flesh.

They were standing on the dirt road that connected the cemetery and the low houses of Spinner's End, a no-man's-land dotted with bitter bushes under a bright pearly sky where a struggle between sun and rain took place. Severus was certain it had happened before as he face her, in some distant timeline where he had made different choices, better choices.

"No," he said, sincere for the first time since their paths crossed. "I don't believe that goals can be achieved with violence alone. It is nor a way nor a solution."

"That's all I wanted to know," she said softly and smiled at him through the tears.

He went on walking and she joined him, just like in the old days.

He walked her to her house. She climbed the iron plank that was installed on the steps for her father's wheelchair while Severus stayed behind.

"It was nice talking to you," he said politely.

"It was nice for me too," she said kindly. "I'm glad I ran into you."

He nodded and turned to go.

"Wait," she called after him. He turned and found her standing on the edge of the plank. "We don't have to be strangers. We used to be friends."

It had been the most beautiful time of his life. "You forgive me for what happened? For what I am?"

"What you are?" She replied, looking very sad. "Just because your views are different than mine doesn't make you some monster. If I thought so I wouldn't have been better than Voldemort and his followers. I remember what happened, but we shouldn't come to resent each other because of something that had happened in school. I don't want to fight anymore."

"You're right," he said, once again overwhelmed by her wisdom and forgivefullness. "Nothing in the world will make me happier than to be your friend again."

She smiled at his candor. Severus warned himself not to be drawn into the trap, for not every candor would arouse such a wonderful response on her behalf.

"Lily, is that you?" Petunia Evans' shrill voice wafted out of the kitchen window. "Come inside right now! Its going to rain and you left the laundry outside!"

"I have to go," Lily said. "Where should I send the invitation?"

"Your owl will know where to find me," said Severus, who still lived on the other side of the street.

"Alright, so... See you."

"Goodbye, Lily."

He watched her go inside and then headed toward his father's house.

He came in through the back door, which was open, as usual. The kitchen was engulfed in darkness, as usual, with only the table and part of the floor illuminated by narrow spots of light that filtered through the broken shatters. There were a bottle and a cup on the table. Severus didn't remember that they had been there when he left in the morning.

He cried out in pain as something broke on the back of his neck. He staggered forward and almost fell, but managed to cling to the table. Large arms gripped him. He tried to resist, but was knocked to the floor; He banged his head, and the world spun around him. A pair of meaty hands groped for his neck. He tried to push them away, but it was complicated to do so while fighting an immediate urge to be sick. The fingers closed around his throat. A stink of alcohol and sweat reached his nose.

"Devil!" his father roared, drops of saliva splashing from his mouth on Severus's face as he choked him. "You came to suck my blood?! To take everything I have?! Well it's too late! Too late! I have nothing left... Nothing, I tell you!"

Severus' senses began to subside. His hand groped at his robe as his throat burned for air, and finally managed to find what he was looking for. He cupped the contents of his pocket as he grabbed his wand and pulled it out quickly. The whole kitchen was lit by red light for a fraction of a second. Tobias Snape slammed into the refrigerator, which hit the wall and began humming, before falling to the floor like a pile of rags, unconscious.

Severus examined him from above as he felt his neck. He did wonder when his father would notice that he had come back home, but he hadn't expected such an extreme violent reaction; In the past several years he had been too drunk to actually care about anything, for better or worse. What would he do with him now? He doubted he would be friendlier when he woke up...

It was hard to think clearly with the pain in the back his head, so he decided to erase the scene from his father's memory as a temporary solution, and then went to the bathroom mirror. All around his neck where red and purple marks in the shape of human fingers, and he knew that tomorrow they would turn blue and green. He touched the back of his neck, and when he recoiled with pain because of a glass shred that sunk into his skin, he found his fingers bloody.

By the time he had finished treating his injuries evening had fallen, and gray rain began to fall. He returned to the kitchen and found that his father was still unconscious.

How would he make him leave him alone? Numerous answers came to that question. A variety of spells and curses he knew came to mind, and he pondered them as he made a cup of tea while his father lay at his feet. Imperius was too gross and obvious, except that since the Dark Lord's rise to power the Ministry was on the look for wizards who used Unforgivable Curses. Nevertheless, he knew a less popular curse that would make his father unaware of his existence, and at the same time would make him obey his command as though it were an idea given to him by an inner voice. The curse was called The Satanic Conscience, and when it was invented in the 13th century by a particularly talented dark wizard, it led to a dozen muggles in the nearby village to be burned at the stake by other muggles on the grounds that they had been possessed by demons. The curse was also famous for its use by a French wizard in the 18th century who couldn't stand his wife, and thus led to her hospitalization in a mental hospital.

Severus spent a short time refreshing his memory in his books before bending over his father's body and casting the spell in the darkness of the evening. When he finished he switched on the light and took off his cloak, and this was when he noticed that the contents of his pocket spilled on the floor during the fight. He leaned over to pick up two sickles, a small empty vile that in the morning had contained a daily dose of anti- migraine potion, and a crumpled piece of parchment. He placed the first two on the table and straightened the card:

Mr. Theos Avery

The Department of International Magical Trading Standards

The Ministry of Magic

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