A/N: Hello all! I present to you the first chapter.
Shoutout to a friend for coercing me into posting it a day early. Also, to the bands I listened to while writing this.
Disclaimer: If only I could do it like JKR!
Chapter 1: Summertime
Her hair was honed flames, quite a metaphor for her personality.
He had never minded a bit of fire.
His hair was utterly chaotic.
She liked a little chaos, time and again.
It was quite a coincidence, that both James and Lily's hair were so metaphoric of their personalities. Or maybe it wasn't a coincidence at all.
But what was definitely not a coincidence was that they were a headstrong pair; they were loyal and they were kind, and at times, they were foolishly brave. Their dispositions were unique and eccentric; for they loved a little humor here and there, but felt everything far too deeply at the same time. They were fierce in every sense of the word, fierce in loving, fierce in fury, fierce in everything they felt; but most of all they were fierce in obstinacy. And therefore it was only befitting, that for them it didn't take a few weeks, or months but quite a number of years to avow certain truths: for one had to fight her every instinct for acceptance, and the other had to do the exact same thing, except in a completely different manner.
Our story properly commences on the on the first day of their sixth year, exactly at the thirty fourth minute of its seventh hour, with a spectacle that left many mouths open with incredulity, and the aforementioned battle of instincts between James Potter and Lily Evans really began to take effect, and our protagonists—after quite a bit of speculation done years later—declared this day a menace for their fifth year selves, that is, if either James or Lily had been made aware of such a scene of minutest cordiality a few months prior, they would've been absolutely disbelieving of its reality. But the summer of 1976 had its adversities, and those adversities brought with them a little wisdom that enabled the pair to be more forbearing.
(Evans household)
The summer holidays had begun one week prior and during this time, Lily had effectively distanced herself from Severus. He had called on her house four times now but to little avail, for they had one conversation which proved to him that Lily was too incensed to be reasoned with, and subsequently on all other occasions, she refused to even leave her room to meet with him. But he kept coming back regardless, and today he returned yet again. The door was answered by Lily's mum.
Maybe she'd talk to him today… maybe.
"Lily dear, your friend is at the door," announced the voice of Mrs. Evans as she stepped inside her daughter's room after leaving a disheveled Severus Snape at their front door. Severus had refused to come in and admitted the purpose of his visit to be a mere conversation with Lily which could easily be conducted in the park outside and he would gladly wait for her to come downstairs.
"Tell him if he steps inside he'll get himself dirty," replied Lily sarcastically, looking up from her book. "A mudblood's house cannot be clean for him after all."
Lily had conveyed to her mother the entire squabble which had resulted in the final threads of her friendship with Severus to be severed completely (leaving out the prevalence of the prejudice in the wizarding world) and Mrs. Evans had been extremely appalled by the hate harbored by her daughter's friend, thus her coercions for Lily to patch up things with Severus were half-hearted. However, she was also aware of the desperation the boy had expressed today and thus asked Lily to meet with him once.
"Come on Lily, you can't have him wait the entire afternoon," said she.
"You know, that's quite a brilliant idea," replied Lily, perking up a bit.
"Yes it would be, but you're a sensible girl so go and talk to him." Mrs. Evans had a finality in her tone this time which had immediate effect and Lily therefore acceded.
Reluctantly, she put down her book, and left her bed, trudging downstairs to the front door with her mother tailing her.
Severus blanched when Lily approached him. He began fidgeting his hands and mumbled something inaudible. Good, at least he had some consideration left in him.
"Yes Severus, what do you want?" asked Lily with agitation.
"Can we please talk outside?" mumbled he, quite out of habit than nervousness, thought Lily.
"I'm sure you can't have anything to say that requires privacy. So say whatever you have to say and get going." The redhead folded her arms and stared at him unflinchingly.
"Lily I'm sorry. Look I was angry that day… and I didn't-"
"Mean it," completed Lily. He nodded in agreement. "Yes, you've told me that before. But as I told you before too, you mean it for every other muggleborn, so it doesn't matter if you don't mean it for me. You've chosen your path with your supposed friends and I've chosen mine. Please stop knocking on my door every few hours."
She made to close the door but Severus began again, growing paler by the second, "Lily please. We're friends… best friends. You said it yourself. Please give me another chance." His voice almost broke at the last syllable, and Lily softened a bit. He was right of course; they were best friends for years. But there it was: They were.
In a softer voice, she replied: "Severus… we were best friends. But we haven't been for a while. Please don't embarrass yourself. I have to go now."
"Lily…" But she shut the door and flounced back to her bedroom, unaware that Severus stood there for quite a few minutes before returning to his house.
Mudblood.
The word reverberated in her head as she entered. He had called her a Mudblood.
(Morning of Defense against the Dark Arts Owl)
"Alright, last thing: incantations. We need to go over each one of them," announced Lily as she flipped the pages of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. Other books on the subject were also piled up on the table where they were studying.
"Okay I'll start: Disarming," said Severus.
"Expelliarmus."
"Shield?"
"Protego."
"Boggarts?"
"Riddikulus."
"Stunning?"
"Stupefy."
"Slowing down?"
"Impedimenta."
The library was vacant this morning because Severus and Lily had chosen pre-breakfast hours for revision, Lily simply for the serenity of it and Severus for… another purpose, however the sun was quite high in the sky by now and most students were awake, causing the number of people inside to increase substantially. They were mostly fifth years and seventh years, preparing for OWLs and NEWTs respectively, but an occasional third year could also be sighted, and often in some chaotic manner.
Severus seemed a bit vexed today and Lily owed it to the prevalent tension of OWLs, but still inquired after his mood after they were finished.
"Sev is everything alright? You seem a bit peaky."
"I'm fine. This Hufflepuff is being too noisy that's all," he drawled.
"Yeah I agree. He's been prancing around for quite some time now. I wonder why Madam Pince has no reprimands for him… she always tells us off for even the slightest noise."
"Because she's a blithering hypocrite," Severus remarked, gesturing towards the utterly unconcerned form of the librarian. "Come on, let's go. Were done anyway."
"Yeah you're right."
Placing their books in their bags and returning the rest to the shelves, they pushed in the chairs and made their way towards the exit. How unfortunate it was though, for their timing coincided with the entrance of three Slytherins (that were part of Severus's reason for assenting to study so early): Nicolai Mulciber. Samuel Avery and Rabastan Lestrange.
"Snape, how wonderful to see you with the Mudblood." sneered Mulciber as he approached the pair.
"Yes, I'm sure you must be spending quality time telling her, her place," agreed Lestrange, matching Mulciber's expression.
"Indeed, especially since you told us that she is of no importance to you the other day," continued Mulciber.
Severus suddenly grew very pale. Lily turned to him to gauge this reaction and allowed herself to grow a little furious, but being suspicious that the Slytherins could only be trying to manipulate her, she remained steady.
"I was only joking Lily," whispered Severus, so inaudibly that even she, who was standing right next to him, barely heard it.
"Right," she replied a little tightly.
"Didn't catch that Snape. What did you say?" inquired Avery pointing at his ear for emphasis.
"Yes Snape please tell us. If the Mudblood can know so can we," added Mulciber and inched towards Severus.
"He didn't say anything to you so he need not tell you either," said Lily fiercely and gripping reaching for her pocket to grip her wand. "Come on Sev, let's go. There's no need wasting our time here."
"Lily why don't you go ahead, I'll be a minute."
The Slytherin's hold on his bag grew tight and he failed to make eye contact with Lily as he said the words. Lily's anger flared on his cowardice, especially since she'd defended him despite Lestrange's insinuation, but instead of giving in to it she decided to resort to later conversation.
"Okay."
She made to leave the library but was barred by Avery's hand which immediately shot out in her path.
Severus visibly flinched.
"Not so fast Mudblood. We're not—" accosted Mulciber but simultaneously another voice prevailed, belonging to Madam Pince, and though she'd never admit it, it relieved Lily immensely to hear it, "What are you all doing? This is a library so exit immediately if you want to have a chat."
"Oh no Professor, we weren't having a chat. Just telling Lily here to leave. She's the one talking loudly," replied Rabstan in a falsely sweet voice.
"Ms. Evans you may well leave then, if you want to disturb the peace like this," said Madam Pince with a leer.
"I wasn't—"
"OUT."
Lily's initial relief at her interference vanished immediately and with a sardonic smile towards Madam Pince, she departed hoping that Severus would be sensible enough to follow her.
However, fate had other plans and often fate's plans are everything one wishes to never endure.
Her eyes darted to the library as she overheard a shriek.
(A month into Summer)
Severus had spent the entire month heeding to Lily's advice and didn't return, causing the redhead a bit relief. After the anger had worn off a bit, the incident had only been a source of anguish for her. At least a part of her day was always devoted to contemplate whether to give up on him so easily or give him another chance. It was after all a work of months; the incident at the lake had only been the last straw. For the next few weeks, Lily would often find herself through periods of absolute blankness, lying on her bed staring at the ink of a book or a letter, but grasping no meaning at all.
At one such instant, when she was tired of trying to comprehend Oliver Twist, she fumbled through her drawers to find the box containing Severus's letters (though very few since they were neighbors) and reading and rereading a particular one that he had owled from school during the Christmas break of third year, for it reminded her of what used to be.
Dear Lily,
How is your Christmas going? I am very happy here. I always stay at Christmas but this year the celebrations are even better because it's Professor Dilferd's birthday on the 24th.
Surprised aren't you?
He's so busy teaching us about boggarts that we never found that out. I wish you were here to see everything. Even the ghosts sang Happy Birthday for him on Christmas Eve and later we had this massive cake that contained toffee and cream and had five flavors in one. It was delicious! And then the portraits sung him happy birthday once dinner was over.
I really, really miss you! I hope you have a lovely Christmas.
Love,
Severus.
P.S. I hope you like your present.
The present he mentioned was a cream colored scarf that Lily wore throughout the holidays, and was sent with the letter. Of course she had loved it, just as she loved to receive his rare letters. The scarf was still lying somewhere amongst her clothes and she felt like searching for it. But before she could proceed another letter caught her eye. This one dated around the summer of fourth year when she'd gone to Egypt with her family.
Dear Lily,
The park is really boring without you. I stay here all day, preferably away from my parents but have nothing to do without you. I only go back home at night. The other day I went to Avery's house. We had a bit of fun chasing some kids in the park around his house. It was hilarious! They were terrified of us. But that's about the only fun thing I did since you've gone. Come back soon, please. The empty swing beside me is making me really lonely.
Love,
Severus.
There is was: short, but bittersweet. Lily recalled reading it for the first time and feeling a bit appalled by the part concerning Avery. For the first time he had admitted to enjoying someone's misery. As she recollected the occasion she felt a stab of pain realizing that it signified a simple truth: that the divergence of their paths had started much long ago and thus, the debilitation of what she believed to be a friendship.
Yes, bittersweet was exactly what is was.
And for just a moment, a relapse in rationality, she longed for him to knock on her door once again, to show once more, a shred of regret. But then the moment passed and she buried the letters back into her drawer and returned to her bed, restarting Oliver Twist, but still failing to grasp any meaning.
So she put down the book once again and concluded that if she were to go downstairs to any of her parents, her conflicting feelings would be immediately remedied. And though it was infinitesimal, her judgement proved conducive as she left her room, and she did feel better once her mother shoved a bite of pudding into her mouth and told her how utterly attractive she looked with the crimson frizz that was her hair (and the kangaroo pajamas as well).
(13th June, 1976. Potter's residence, or alternatively, Grayton House)
James was sprawled across his bed, Quidditch monthly hovering in his hands, and carelessly reading the bits of news in the columns conveying trivial information regarding the Quidditch teams. He wore a blue shirt that had reached up to his abdomen due to excessive, and quite unnecessary, rolling around on the king-sized walnut four poster that was his bed. He turned a page, skimmed over the article concerning the newest chaser of Holyhead Harpies, pausing a moment at the moving image of concerned chaser, featured for the article, and sighed. He then straightened his elbow and the magazine flopped on his quilt and rolled over once again.
Sirius had not arrived.
It may not be surprising that Sirius liked to be a little late, but given the alternative of Grimmauld Place or Grayton House, Sirius would rather choose the latter, and with such zeal as to arrive early. Yet, two hours had passed since the established time of arrival. Had he been more concerned, James might have even inquired into his lateness—calling for him in the mirror—but he decided to blame his carelessness instead.
And because James was beginning to get frustrated, instead of mulling over Sirius's lateness, which was really quite boring—he left his room, and relocated himself to the ground floor. Since his father was out having a meeting with his organization—a venture he had initiated a few months after retirement: they strived to provide all magical creatures with proper rights and protested the unnecessary censorship of the Daily Prophet (and had been partly successful until Voldemort's movement began)—and his mother was at the ministry, practicing journalism, James was often left to his own devices through majority of the summer. The boys—or recently, as they had termed, The Marauders- would be around most of the time so his parents' absence was often far from noticeable.
But of course, Sirius wasn't here.
Halting a while in the foyer, then redirecting himself to his father's library, he walked that way. Halfway through his path, resulting from spontaneous inspiration, he retreated once again to the entrance hall and left the house. The vast fields of Grayton were sparkling under the incandescent sunlight and far up to the horizon, the sky was cloudless and devoid of moisture, as it had been since previous May—an obvious result of the drought. Excellent. Though it wouldn't provide the familiar thrill of wind, it was perfect for idle flying.
With fleeting footsteps, James arrived at the broom stands located in the shed beside their usual spot for games. He retrieved his cherished Silver Arrow and exited the shed. Mounting it, the Marauder took to the skies.
You see, for most people flying holds certain pleasure, in the cool breeze spiking their face and in the simple achievement of being metres above the ground not only levitating, but swimming through the atmosphere, uncontrolled and bulletproof. But add to it, the surge of passion and the feeling of being in completely his own substance, aware that this is what he did best and would continue to do best, James considered it his art. The place where he was entirely and candidly James Potter.
He swerved and dived and floated. He shot through the endless blanket of air and strived to find a lone cloud—though fruitlessly—and repeated, soon forgetting that Sirius was due to arrive.
After half an hour, an hour or several—he could never tell—the Gryffindor at last landed, and returned the broomstick to its designated place heading back to the house to the originally intended room, the library. He must've been airborne for at least two hours, he concluded, because after a few minutes inside, he heard a whoosh from the living room fireplace—which was on the other end of the corridor where the entrance to the library was situated—announcing the arrival of his father, for his mother returned at least another hour later.
He left his seat and proceeded to the living room. The frame of Mr. Potter was recumbent on one of the larger couches, glasses held in one hand and the other busy rubbing his eyes—he looked positively spent; so much that he remained ignorant of the entrance of his son into the room.
"Um, Dad… bad meeting?" greeted James and seated himself on a chair beside the couch.
"Oh James, didn't see you there. Wow is it that obvious?" replied Mr. Potter wearily.
"You're stretched on a bloody couch, so yeah I reckon it's quite obvious," quipped James. The senior Potter chuckled.
"Alright kid, you guessed right, it was pretty tiring." Mr. Potter put down the glasses.
"Should I be blaming that crone, Meadowes?" inquired the son.
"No, no, she's a pain but not of much consequence. I pray her sister turns out better. No James, it's that wizard calling himself Voldemort. He's slowly gaining influence and three members resigned today. Our numbers have been decreasing for a few months now," explained Mr. Potter sitting up a little. James mimicked and sat up straighter himself.
"Well screw them if they're scared of a bleached bread stick, you'll find someone who's not a coward," he comforted.
"James, you underestimate that bread sti—"
The pair were suddenly alerted by a booming knock on the front doors, for it was loud enough to reach the living room that was located at a distance from the entrance. However James suddenly relaxed when he remembered Sirius was late and he'd forgotten all about it after his flying escapade. He got up from his chair and told his father who he supposed it could be, wondering why Sirius didn't just floo in as he always did.
It took only a minute for James to reach the front doors and he hadn't even fully opened them as he began, "What-the-fuck-took-you-an-extra-three hou—" His eyebrows shot up while his voice shifted from agitated to concerned. "Mate are you alright, what the hell happened?"
For Sirius was standing there, a barely closed trunk by his side and looking distinctly disheveled and furious.
(Continuance: Morning of DADA OWL)
"MR. AVERY I ORDER YOU GET OUT OF THE LIBRARY THIS SECOND!" boomed Madam Pince.
Lily had halted upon hearing the scream that sound vaguely like a child's and she could only guess of one such person currently present in the library. She pushed open the door to the library infinitesimally, as her heart rapped in her chest see the ensuing scene.
Her doubts were confirmed when she saw the body of the same third year who had previously been causing a bit of havoc inside the library levitating by his ankle—a well-cast Levicorpus—his eyes wide with fear and waiting to be brought back to the ground. Lily shot a hand over her mouth to silence her shocked gasp. Someone, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, cast the counter curse, and the moment his feet hit the ground, the student broke into pitiful whimpers. However, what appalled her more, and what really was the truly repugnant aspect of this incident was the satisfied smile on Avery's face, which was matched by both Lestrange and Mulciber… and Severus.
Lily was overcome by a wave of nausea, an effect of their current facial expressions and before she could react, the door to the library flew open and came out the figures of Madam Pince, the third year, followed by the amused Slytherins. Lily stepped aside to allow the librarian to move past her, but immediately barricaded the path of Severus.
"Sev, we need to talk," she told him.
An array of emotions passed through his face—shock, embarrassment, fury—before he finally composed himself and answered.
"Lily what are you doing here? I thought I asked you to leave."
"Yeah, are you stalking him?" added Mulciber, causing the others (sans Severus) to snicker.
"I don't think anyone has such a creepy mindset but yourself, Mulciber. And I think neither of you need to be here so please leave," retorted Lily.
They eyed her with severe condescension, as the amusement vanished from their faces.
"And what makes you think we'll listen to what you say, Mudblood?" inquired Lestrange.
"The fact that you're unable to think for yourselves and do anything remotely sensible," the redhead quipped.
"Lily, please stop," mumbled Severus.
For the second time in the past ten minutes, Lily felt desirous to really punch Severus.
"Severus, I'll ask you once. Please tell your friends to leave because this conversation will not take more than a minute to be taken to Mcgonagall," she demanded fiercely. And because of the threat, he didn't need telling twice, so Severus told the three Slytherins to leave and that he'd talk to them later. They remonstrated with more jeers, but the idea of Mcgonagall being aware of their handiwork in hexing the third year unnerved them too, and after a bit of debate, they finally left Lily and Severus to their own devices.
"Severus what the hell was that?" Lily folded her arms and eyed him with such ferocity that the Slytherin's head drooped a bit and he stared at his shuffling feet.
"It was nothing, just a bit of fun," he mumbled.
"Fun? Fun? Do you even know what fun means if that's your idea of fun?" she spat.
"Lily the kid was being annoying… you know that too." Severus's voice grew confident and he managed to return Lily's stare.
Lily shifted her weight to her right foot. "Oh yes, what a wonderful way to deal with an annoying person. Hang them by their ankles and have a laugh about it." Severus started. "No don't you dare try to justify this. Do you expect me to just overlook it?"
"No that's not—Look, it was nothing…Can we please not argue about this?" he protested, wringing his hands.
"I don't think so. First, I find out that I am not important to you and I thought maybe your so called mate was just lying to get a reaction out of me. Then you go on to do that. So I don't see a good enough reason to not argue," said Lily, with such a finality in her voice that Severus positively flinched.
"I don't wanna talk to you for a while."
"Lily no, come on…" But Lily had already turned on her heels and was on her way to the Great Hall.
Fun, he had said. It was fun to do that. Merlin, if there was one other instance of such fun she'd tell him to never bother with her ever again.
Crash!
Lily bumped into Nessa.
"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Lily at the same time Nessa blurted, "My god Lily, have you gone completely blind?"
They both recollected themselves before Lily answered, "I suppose I have if it's possible to go blind because of anger."
"Someone is furious. What's up Ginger?"
"Fight with Sev. The shorter version is that he's a complete arse," replied the redhead, falling into step with Nessa towards the Great Hall. A quiet breakfast might placate her.
"Well first, he's always an arse and second, no short version is gonna satisfy me so fess up. I lack some drama in my life anyway."
The pair arrived in the Great Hall and found themselves a seat beside Marlene McKinnon and Mary MacDonald at the Gryffindor table.
"Hello lovelies. How's the morning so far?" Marlene said by way of greeting, uncharacteristically happy since it was OWL day.
"Lily and Severus had a row," Nessa supplied earning an angry glare from the redhead. "Not to be insensitive."
"What's it about then?" inquired Mary taking a sip of orange juice.
"It's about him being a prat and me telling him off for it," replied Lily. "And you lot better stay quiet about it right now because I will very much hex one of you if you go on."
"Alright, Lils relax. We meant well," said Marlene.
"No you meant well Mar, I meant drama," quipped Nessa.
"Nessa…" warned Lily.
"Alright Ginge, get your panties untwisted, we know Snape has an awful effect on them—Alright, alright I'll shut up."
For one blissful moment it was silent, except for the general chatter of the students, and the four Gryffindors ate their respective breakfast until Marlene blurted,
"Julian-told-me-he-loves-me!"
And thus a series of squeals and "oh tell us the details right now ensued (mostly by Mary)—to which of course Marlene complied—and Lily's wish for having a quiet breakfast was utterly ruined.
Excellent.
(Evans household, mid-July)
"Alright Mum, I've had enough pancakes, can I please go back to my homework now?" asked a frustrated Lily, sitting at her dining table, a few paces from the kitchen where her mother was standing at the stove, preparing breakfast with Petunia's assistance and enduring Lily's unbridled protests.
"Lily Elizabeth Evans, you are not permitted to leave your chair until you've eaten at least three more. Look at yourself, you've gotten so pale in the last month, stuck in your room two thirds of the day," commented Mrs. Evans, laying another pancake in the plate and ordering Petunia to take it to their father, who muttered during her journey, "I see no difference."
"That's because you're too pale to notice anything with a little color," retorted Lily with a smirk.
"Lily…" chorused the parents, effectively silencing the girls.
Last pancake done, Mrs. Evans too assumed her seat at the table eyeing her younger daughter with scrutiny.
Her concerns weren't ill founded, Lily over the course of the summer had lost weight and lacked her usual radiance. Of course that didn't mean she had to shove each morsel of food down her throat, but such was her mother and thus Lily found herself adhered to the dining table when unfinished essays for Potions were awaiting her in her room—begun an hour prior.
Truthfully, she had only been killing time. Her thoughts would often drift to Severus—what he was doing, how much he was cursing Slughorn for giving them separate assignments on seven different potions, each about the history of their discovery, and the developments that led to their complex natures. Not that she meant to, but Potions always reminded her of Severus one way or another.
She wasn't missing him or anything, rather she had grown quite accustomed to his absence and it was of quite little consequence to her now, but Potions did always reminded her of that particular Slytherin.
No, it really didn't matter anymore.
Gulping the last few pieces of the two ascribed pancakes, Lily at last turned to her mother with a falsely bright smile and began, "Alright dearest Mother, are you satisfied to overfill my stomach?"
Reluctantly, Mrs. Evans answered, "Oh well, I suppose it's alright then. You can go."
With a little nod for thanks, Lily got up from her chair, and pushing it in, tottered to her bedroom.
Oh peace at last.
She resumed her designated set at her study desk and began to scroll through Magical Drafts and Potions.
She flipped over a page and paused at the scribble scrawled in the empty space beside the left column: Pass me the Alihosty, you dolt, before Slughorn changes our seats. Wistfully she recollected the day she had written it. Severus was stealing all her ingredients—for some godforsaken reason, which later turned out to be faulty scales that were newly purchased and were resulting in flawed measurements (so he was using her ingredients to fulfill the measurements)—and as a result they had been bickering the entire class, resulting in reprimands from Professor Slughorn who normally never scolded his 'golden duo'.
It was definitely not making her sad.
Sighing, she began to read the useful part of the book and dipped her quill in ink to begin writing. No, it didn't matter that she suddenly grew crestfallen. Just a normal reaction to an old conversation with anybody.
Lily put down her quill and stretched a bit. Exhaustion took over her—maybe she needed a break—so she left her chair and went to stand in her room's window.
Of course, fate has its wicked methods and due to their effectual execution Lily was met with a sight—from this chosen method of relaxation—which tensed her even further (not that she would admit it).
Severus was sitting in the neighborhood park, visible from her window, hunched over a piece of parchment himself. She paused a little at his form, shrugged and then changed the direction of her eyes.
Yes, his presence was most certainly not bothersome anymore.
(Post Defense against the Dark Arts OWL)
Lily was mulling over the last question of the exam when Nessa cheerfully joined her in the Entrance Hall. A girl of a fairly apathetic disposition towards any form of exams, Nessa only expressed relief on the finishing of the 'dreadful month of meaningless endeavors by authorities to recognize talent'.
They were soon accompanied by Marlene and Mary and the four girls left the castle, heading towards the grounds. Nessa was greeting everyone in their path with merry salutations.
"May all the examiners be cursed with tentacles," said Nessa lightheartedly.
"And boils," Marlene added earning a chuckle from all the girls.
"Yes definitely," acquiesced Lily half-heartedly.
The morning's fight was still fresh in her mind and she found herself staring blankly into space and trailing behind the girls for a moment until Nessa demanded her to buck up and quit trudging.
"Listen to me Lils, those wretched exams are gone now. Gone. So you better stop mourning their loss and get on with the celebrations. I'm sure Potter'll be doing something this evening, how about we discuss what to wear to that and how much butterbeer to stash away," she announced.
"No I was just thinking about someth—" replied Lily, stopping at Nessa's expression. "Nevermind."
However Nessa guessed exactly what and asked solemnly: "You're thinking about the fight aren't you?"
"No it's nothing."
Thy reached the lake and Mary began toying a fallen twig, while Marlene lay back in the grass. Lily took off her shoes and placed her feet in the lake, relishing the cool water. Nessa sat beside her and began,
"Listen Ginger, in simple words, Snape's a prick. I don't know what happened exactly, but you both have been squabbling like five year olds for the past few months now and he hasn't once shown proper remorse. Hence, a complete prick." Marlene snorted. "He just apologizes like a lost puppy and you accept it like the idiot you are. So for once, accept the shriveled tosser he is and toss him—no pun intended. I mean look at him pathetically reading the book, even though exams just ended. Merlin, am I the only one who acknowledges that?"
Lily followed the direction of Nessa's eyes and found that she was right. Alright, maybe it was a bit pathetic. She chuckled a bit began fingering the grass.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," the redhead drawled. "That does looks pretty pathetic and no Nessa dear, we all too know that it's a cause for celebration."
"I second that," voiced Marlene, sitting up and fiddling with a rock. "So how much do either of you bet that this rock will go farther than ten metres?"
"Mar, please don't embarrass yourself with ridiculous bets. You can't possibly manage anything more than six metres since you're so small," quipped Nessa.
"Hey, you must know, I have strong arms," protested Marlene splashing Nessa with a handful of water.
"Yes, 10 inches in circumference, very strong arms."
The girls cackled at that. Lily extricated her feet from the water.
"Normally Mar, I'd defend you but you are pretty nimble," said Mary.
"Yeah Mar, Nessa's right here," assented Lily.
"And I call you lot my friends," complained Marlene, but soon joined in the laughter herself.
They were suddenly distracted by cheers emitting from a little distance away. All three of them turned to said direction and Lily suddenly felt repugnance gnawing at her insides; Severus who was previously sitting hunched over a book was now choking on soapy froth while most of the audience were in guffaws. What incensed her more however—though unsurprisingly—was that none other James Potter was the instigator of the revolting show, along with Sirius Black.
"Oh dear," muttered Nessa.
It was as though an invisible force compelled her to disregard the morning's altercation and rush to Severus's defense.
"Leave him ALONE!" shouted she, eyeing James with immense disgust.
James's head turned in her direction—Sirius imitated—and his hand shot up to his hair.
"All right, Evans?" voiced the Marauder.
"Leave him alone," she reiterated. "What's he ever done to you?"
"Well," deliberated James, "it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean…"
Quite a number of the spectators laughed at the remark, but Lily identified no humor in the statement.
"You think you're funny," she said coldly, every inch of her fiber contrastingly aflame. "But you're just an arrogant bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."
James changed tactics: "I will if you go out with me, Evans," he said quickly. "Go on… go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."
Her vexation elevated with the question and she shot back, "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid Potter."
"Bad luck Prongs," Sirius interjected, but there was a sudden flash of light. "OI!"
James was intercepted by Severus's spell, which sliced across his cheek and spattered his robes with blood. The Marauder spun towards the Slytherin, and in an instant Snape was hoisted up by his ankle, dangling upside-down in the air, while his robes fell over his head exposing pale, nimble legs and horribly shabby underpants.
For a split second, Lily found hilarity in Severus's appearance, and it even reached her face causing a slight twitch of the lips, but she re-assumed decorum and said, "Leave him alone."
"Certainly," said James with mock alacrity, but broke the spell.
However, without missing a beat, a petrifying jinx (by Sirius) was hurled at the Slytherin—who had barely stood back up—and he fell over, unmoving.
Alright, that was it.
She retrieved her wand and shouted with immense ferocity: "LEAVE HIM ALONE!"
"Ah Evans, don't make me hex you," said James earnestly.
"Take the curse off him then!"
Sighing, he reluctantly cast the countercurse and began, "There you go… you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus—"
"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" spat Severus.
Beat.
Lily blinked, trying to comprehend his words, but the hurt had already begun to claw at her insides and a pounding was initiating, repeatedly sounding as Mudblood.
She assumed as cool a demeanor she could muster and retorted, "Fine, I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants, if I were you, Snivellus."
Good, the Marauders' nickname would truly incense him.
Mudblood; the word pounded in her head. He'd told her it meant nothing yet there it was.
"Apologize to Evans!" she heard James, though distantly. The pounding was growing vociferous now, barring her from comprehending anything.
She mustered enough courage and attention to be able to retort: "I don't want you to make him apologize. You're a bad as he is."
Lily tried to regain some composure despite the chant of Mudblood repeating incessantly in her mind.
At length, and after a few deep breaths, she became fully aware of James's remonstrance, "What? I'd never call you a—you-know-what!"
He didn't need to either; the arrogance was quite enough already. She channeled all her anger towards the Marauder, trying to subside the budding resentment.
"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can—I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."
Mudblood; it resounded once more.
Her eyes were prickling threateningly now and before the altercation could lengthen, she stormed off to the castle. She vaguely registered James calling after her or any of her roommates trying to tail her; the only discernible thing was the word Mudblood etched before her eyes and ringing in her ears. It had fully taken over now.
She didn't know where her footsteps were guided or of the eyes that followed her hysterical and flushed form, and at last she stood before the portrait of the Fat Lady who was muttering trivial things.
"BOWTRUCKLE!"
"Dear, dear, be a little kind will you…" said the Fat Lady.
At last, in the warmth and familiarity of the common room, Lily felt herself growing heavier, every inch of her body transforming into an encumbrance, deterring her from reaching her bed she was so desirous of at the moment. With the last shred of strength, she climbed the stairs to the girl's dormitory, barred the door and—with her back pressed against it—let the rage overcome each instinct of rationality and defense for her best friend (was he really deserving of the title now?)
In a fit, she walked towards the bed and aimed a kick at the walnut board. A stab of pain shot up her toe at the action, but she let it hurt her. Again. Another stab. And then suddenly all the strength drained from her, leaving behind an icy spike of rage that weighed her down.
She succumbed to it, fell to the floor and leaning her head back to touch the mattress, let the tears fall.
Mudblood.
Night had fallen half an hour ago, and Lily had visibly returned to her former state of collectedness. She could hear the faraway sounds of the party raging in the common room, and was asked multiple times to attend it by Nessa, Marlene, Mary and even Alice, although she was busy with sixth years exams. She was absorbed in the pages of Pride and Prejudice, while Zona—her cat—pranced about the room, often scratching at the beds.
Lily was once again roused from her book by the sound of footsteps, but didn't bother to shut it like the initial few times any of the girls had come to persuade her. This time, it was Mary.
"Lily, you're needed, come down, will you?" asked she, a little breathless from the quick ascension.
"Mary I told each of you, I just don't feel like it," she replied vexingly.
"No no… not the party, Snape is here."
"Oh."
Drawing a breath, Mary spewed, "He's been pacing outside the common room entrance for some time now and I know you told us to tell him to leave if he shows up but he's being too stubborn and now we're all kind of annoyed and Black's threatening to hex him—and I sort of agree—if he stops another Gryffindor from entering and instead begs them to fetch you."
"Don't even talk to me about Black," spat Lily, closing her book and massaging her temples. "And tell Severus that he wouldn't want to wait on a Mudblood would he?"
"Ok-he-also-said-he-was-gonna-sleep-outside-if-you-don't-come-downstairs-and-talk-to-him."
"He can—ugh, I-I'll be a minute."
"Thank you so much, I adore you!" said Mary earnestly and departed with as much swiftness as she came.
While straightening her dressing gown, Lily could only think of a single word to say to him; Why? Why did he do it?
And she realized, that the question didn't just encompass today's events. So with that thought she also decided what she was actually going to say to him.
She left the dormitory and approached the Common Room, the raucous noise amplifying with her steps. Entering, she tried to shield herself from all the scuttling fifth years, but was suddenly intercepted by Sirius Black.
"Evans, will you go put a leash on Snivellus? He's greasing the entrance y'know, and James isn't letting me do the honor of hexing him away," said he.
"Oh Potter's being sensible now? It's his fault, and yours too, that he's here in the first place. I'd rather not talk to Severus now if you two are getting bothered," shot Lily. Sirius raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Oh just sod off Black."
"As you say, milady." With a mock bow he disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived.
Potter not letting him hex Sev, yeah right.
After a bit of effort, Lily maneuvered through the crowd and reached the portrait of the Fat lady. She composed herself and assumed the coldest expression she could muster; it really wasn't so hard.
She swung it open and found Severus standing before her, who started, "Can you tell Lil—"
"If you're here to apologize then you can leave," she cut him off.
But of course, he began to apologize profusely.
"I'm sorry!"
"I'm not interested."
"I'm sorry!" he pleaded.
"Save your breath," said she, folding her arms. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here."
"I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just—"
"Slipped out," Lily completed pitilessly. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends—you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?" He tried to articulate something, but failed and closed his moth without a word.
With a finality she continued. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."
"No listen, I didn't mean—"
"—to call me Mudblood. But you call every one of my birth Mudblood. Why should I be any different Severus?"
He once again tried to say something, but Lily had made her intentions clear and knew nothing else could be said, so with a final withering look, she returned to the Common room.
She had meant her words too (why did it still hurt?)
(Grimmauld Place)
An hour later, he was to go to James's. Not that it mattered when he went; he could just go now, but a bit of Transfiguration homework was taking up his time. Normally of course, he'd do it in the last week but ever since their Animagi transformations had proven successful, Sirius had taken a keen interest in the subject and often found himself pondering over books on the matter.
Water, he realized, he needed some water.
"Kreacher!" he barked.
The dwarfish form of the elf cracked before him, the hair in its ears showing hints of grey.
"Yes Master? Though-I-don't-know-why-the-mistress-"
"Shut up you wrinkled bat and bring me a glass of water," ordered Sirius.
Without a departing jeer, Kreacher disappeared with a pop while Sirius twirled the quill in his hand, leaning back a bit in his chair. A minute, two… five.
"KREACHER!"
No answer. Wonderful.
Reluctantly he left his seat and stormed to the door. However, upon opening it he heard raucous laughter from the lower level, which was quite unwonted considering the usual grim—no pun intended—atmosphere of the house. He proceeded downstairs and was able to discern bits of conversation on reaching the first landing.
"…such wonderful news, this is! Bellatrix Black, pride of the family."
"It's wonderful isn't it?"
"Yes indeed, my dear niece, you have brought us glad tidings, glad tidings indeed!"
"Congrats Bella!"
Each sentence was uttered by a different person and each jovial voice, Sirius recognized before having to see them. The sound of clinking glass followed and the shrill like laughter of his cousin emanated from below.
"Oh Aunt, Uncle he is magnificent. The way the Dark Lord welcomed me, so esteemed, so devoted. Oh Aunt, he was so admirable…"
The Dark Lord…
The remains of her words were suddenly incomprehensible because the cause for celebration became apparent to Sirius; his already wretched cousin Bellatrix Black had pledged herself to Voldemort.
Voldemort… the wizard who was threatening his friends, and renouncing them as mere vermin. The same Voldemort who James's father had been uttering admonitions about this summer.
A stab of fury rose in his stomach and he felt a sudden need to throttle someone, preferably someone from his family, and he stormed downstairs causing the party to freeze at his arrival. It consisted of Bellatrix, his parents, his brother Regulus and Bellatrix, along with her sister Narcissa.
"Really Bellatrix, you fancy Voldemort? I thought I'd expect a little more but I suppose it's fitting considering you're a mad bat yourself," remarked Sirius, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You… for once you disgrace us with your presence and then insult your cousin's achievement," sneered Walburga, Sirius's mother.
"Achievement? Achievement? I knew you all were prejudiced but I didn't think you were dumb wacks all these years. She joined Voldemort's ranks and it's an achievement?" he shot back, his voice beginning to shake with anger.
"DO NOT UTTER THE NAME YOU FOOL!" Bellatrix shrieked.
"I'LL SAY WHOEVER'S NAME I PLEASE!"
His temper was flaring, and it took all his will to not hex any of them. They were supporting Voldemort. Despite all the atrocities from the past, this was by far the worst he'd ever seen them celebrate.
Voldemort.
He was so incensed that even took him a moment to realize that there was more than just anger growing in his chest. Something else was erupting too.
Regulus was growing steadily pallid and Orion's nostrils were flared though he remained still for the moment and warned, "You don't know boy, you don't know anything at all—"
"Oh shut up, will you?" Sirius took a few steps ahead and regained some composure. "I know that you've all gone completely berserk if you're proud of her for supporting Voldemort. I can't believe this, I can't fucking believe this."
"Sirius Black shut your ungodly mouth and respect your cousin," interrupted Walburga.
"No, no Aunt let him speak. I wonder what righteousness he has to deliver now," the previously quiet Narcissa remarked.
"Wow, someone who's showing a bit of sense. Yes, I have a little right sense to know what a monster Voldemort is. But I also had a shred of hope that despite your utter lack of skill to use your brains, you two wouldn't be so enthusiastic about this. You know what I think? I think you're all SODDING ARSES FOR DOING THIS AND THIS HOUSE IS NOT FIT FOR ME ANYMORE," he shouted. A little more steadily: "I can't be around Death Eaters."
Regulus looked up skeptically. "Sirius... what are you on about?" questioned he.
"I'm leaving. I'm fucking leaving," he confirmed.
"No you—we weren't… Sirius," Regulus failingly tried to articulate the words.
He didn't think it was possible, but Regulus's attempt to justify matters infuriated him even more.
"DON'T YOU DARE DEFEND ANY OF THEM," he spat venomously and turned on his heel towards the stairs.
During the infinity it took to cover the steps, the feeling growing momentum in his chest became apparent to him.
Disappointment.
He wished it was anything but that.
Hastily packing all his essential belongings into his school trunk, Sirius tried to cool off but to little avail. Bellatrix shrill cackle and Regulus's 'congrats Bella' kept resounding in his head, causing a low pounding in his head, like incessant stabs from a blunt dagger.
Within a few moments he was back in the living room, where everyone was chatting about Bellatrix's victory, though with a little more calmness, now that the original fervency had worn off but once again it all ceased with his appearance. However this time he didn't stop to speak with anyone and went directly towards the exit, shouting conclusively, "A FUCKING GLASS OF WATER," and slammed the door behind him.
He missed entirely, the audacious professions of relief by his family and, more importantly, the one face that grew rueful rather than relieved.
(Evans household, a week into August)
The beginning of August brought with it ceaseless rainfall, which effectively ended the infamous drought of '75 and cheered most of the population. You see, it is funny that certain events can be a cause of celebration for even the most doleful souls, and such was the case with Lily Evans for her mood instantly elevated to see the rain and she rushed to the neighborhood park to get thoroughly soaked. The gaiety was such that even Petunia allowed herself to step into the rain, though only for two minutes.
Fate however, always has its wicked plans, and most certainly for Lily.
Regardless she let herself be thoroughly delighted, before the plans executed (they didn't seem so cruel this time).
Now the more pressing point here is that Lily had experienced a plethora of emotions regarding the person of Severus Snape, during this summer. She had felt unfathomable fury, and once that dissipated she had felt a sense of loss. She had then felt, or rather, had tried to feel apathetic, and then she ultimately gave into the simple fact that she did miss Severus. It had taken quite a bit of time. But despite the acknowledgement of feeling all this, she never once considered feeling forgiving towards her former best friend. She had neither felt it nor predicted it, but when she saw his figure approaching her, it was as though she had been anticipating that very emotion the entirety of her holidays; like a delayed epiphany that is equal parts surprising and expected.
What was even more astonishing however, was that Severus had not left his home with any purpose of running into Lily as he had done for the past month, nor had he planned any apologies in case he did somehow encounter her, but truly by accident had it occurred that Lily chose to revel in today's showers in the park, as Severus concurrently left his house to do the same.
So at last, when they both became aware of the abrupt appearance of the other, they halted for a moment, awkwardly stared at the saturated grass, until Lily raised her face, causing Severus to imitate her action, and broke into a reluctant grin, expanding to become a ridiculously wide one (though credits to the rain for that, but partly to a wisp of hope as well; that maybe their fractured friendship could be threaded once more).
The rain was really clogging her mind.
And then they strived to converse, as people often do after an altercation, while droplets fell to the ground ominously, bringing in their wake hints of adversity for their sixth year (mingled with tacit tidings).
(Continuance: Grayton house)
"Got a spare room?" inquired Sirius with a half-hearted smirk, dragging his trunk inside.
"Just levitate it," suggested James. "Scratch that, I'll do it myself."
James cast a levitating charm and charmed it to hover beside them, guiding it to a barren corner in the foyer. Once, it was set, the Marauder turned to Sirius with a look of sheer inquisitiveness etched across his face.
"Shall I count to twenty?" he quipped.
"Thirty might do," attempted Sirius, putting his hands in the pockets of his robes, but lacking his usual jocularity. "What's for dinner?"
James was growing impatient now: "Anything that will force you to utter more than three words. Really mate, now you're just making me want to hex you." He folded his arms and ran an agitated hand through his hair. "Should I get some Veritaserum? Dad might have some really old ones arou—"
"I ran away."
Beat.
James broke into a ridiculously wide grin.
"THIS—IS—WONDERFUL. Tell me what final act by the mother pissed you off to finally do this?" James's amused tone caused Sirius to properly smile since his entrance.
However, the Marauder could not elaborate because Mr. Potter's figure emerged from the corridor leading to the living room. "James, what's taking you both so long at the door?"
"Hullo Mr. Potter, I hope you remember your son's now estranged friend?" quipped Sirius, proceeding to shake the senior Potter's hand.
"Estranged you say? What have you two been joking about now?" said Mr. Potter, quirking an eyebrow, a gesture his son shared with him.
But before Sirius could, at last profess the details—as he started—Mr. Potter caught sight of the haphazardly done trunk's addition to the usual furniture.
"Merlin's beard, you're not joking," he said at length.
"Yes, you finally glimpse this non-jocular side of the estranged friend," replied Sirius.
"Last time you'll be seeing it Dad," added James.
"Well come on then, tell us about it," Mr. Potter continued.
"Yes Sirius formerly Black," said James with a wink to Sirius and gesticulating him to follow his father who was now turning to retrace his steps.
Once relocated to the living, Sirius settled in the same couch previously occupied by Mr. Potter while he and James returned to their seats.
"Oi Rudy!" called James.
With a resounding crack, a house elf appeared before them and bowed steeply to the three men individually. He had donned a fairly immaculate pillowcase around his miniature form and was barely wrinkled unlike the greater part of his species, though equally distinct was his abnormally long stout of a nose.
"Yes, young Master Potter?" he squeaked.
"Bring us butterbeer, will you? Oh and clean around Sirius's usual room afterwards."
"As you say, young Master Potter," complied the elf and vanished with another crack.
"Alright Padfoot, you may begin."
Sirius leaned back in the couch and clearing his throat in a dramatic fashion, began at length, "Well Potters, it all initiated with a very, very important glass of water. Crucial to the story pay attention to that."
He recounted the entire tale, improvising in between, the blasting of his room's door, then a very prolonged struggle in which his family hurled unforgivable curses at him—causing Mr. Potter to gasp, who wasn't entirely aware of his antics, until James and Sirius began to guffaw at his countenance—and then concluded the part inside the house by adding quite a bit of imprecations he fervently retorted with as he left, and included blasting the entrance door as well.
The remains of the story included his overly stretched slumber in the Knight Bus on his journey to the Potters, which was the real cause of delay and adding more hysterically exaggerated details to it Sirius finally concluded the 'tale of his escape'.
With a solemn edge to his voice however, he stated, "My dear cousin is officially a death eater now so that means Voldemort is clearly gaining support from the old families."
"Yes indeed, that is extremely concerning," acquiesced Mr. Potter gravely.
A/N: Alright so it was much longer initially (43 pgs MS Word) but then I decided to separate the summer part. The next one is all about that thirty fourth minute of the seventh hour.
Please, please REVIEW. I will give y'all free pizza, or chocolate, or your favorite dish, or whatever makes you happy. Basically, I am desperate.
To the reviewer of the last one, Zainab, I adore you so much! Also, thank you for favoriting this story kaptainkimi. Bless you two (and everyone else who texted me otherwise after reading the prologue).
For now, I give you my love.