I do not own Harry Potter.
Lily, James, and Remus entered Grimmauld Place that morning, exhausted and grieving. The very air of the house seemed different. Somehow, the fact that Sirius was gone for good made the house seem stiller, deader, blacker. What little life it had had fled with its master.
"Master has not returned," came a muttered voice down the hall. Kreacher appeared in a door on the hall. "The mudblood, the half-breed, and the blood traitor are back, but no Master. Perhaps Master will never return, Kreacher can hope."
James started forward with a violence that startled Lily. Both she and Remus grabbed him by his arms. "Please let me kill him," James snarled.
"He's not worth it," Lily whispered.
"James, Prongs," Remus said, "Come on." He manhandled James up the stairs. Lily heard a door slam.
She took a threatening step toward the elf. "Get out of my sight," she hissed. Something in her face must have told Kreacher that it would be unwise to disobey her. He slunk away.
Lily considered following the Marauders... the remaining Marauders. No. This was a tryst she had no part in. Four inseparable brothers in all but blood had left Hogwarts. For awhile, it had seemed as if Remus was the last of them; then they were all together again, save the rat. Now... now that the first of their number had died, really died... this was something they must do alone.
Lily walked slowly to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of firewhiskey. She sat at the table and stared at it. Sirius was gone. Her husband's best friend. Her son's godfather. Her friend.
She would never see him again.
He would never tell stories of the trouble he'd gotten up to at school.
She would never hear his bark like laugh.
He would never again call her 'Lils.'
Lily chocked on a sob. She took a gulp of the drink and squinted against the burn. One glass. She would not allow herself more than one. James would need her sober.
And right now, she mourned alone.
Green flames leapt to life. Lily did not look to see who it was; she didn't really care.
Footsteps crossed the room, and Severus Snape sank into the chair opposite her. He poured himself a glass of the whiskey, never taking his eyes off her. There was concern in their black depths. "I heard what happened," he said.
"Don't pretend that you care," Lily said, hoarsely, without heat.
Severus nodded slowly, as if he were searching for his own reaction to the news. "I feel a surprising lack of satisfaction," he said at last.
Lily's mouth twitched briefly into a wry smile. "Shame on you."
"I gain no pleasure from his death, Lily, even as I do not grieve."
"I admire your honesty," Lily took a drink from her glass. "How very Gryffindor of you."
"Your cynicism fits a Slytherin," Severus replied. It was an old joke between them, dating back to their school days. Wishing to be in the same house, they teased each other about traits that would place the other in their own. Lily reveled in its familiarity, but she was too tired to continue the joke.
"Grief breeds cynicism," Lily replied. "Why are you here?"
Severus considered his answer. "I thought Potter and Lupin might take comfort in each other," he said finally. "I didn't want you to be alone."
Tears filled Lily's eyes. Severus could always break through her defenses. But it was not really his support made her cry. "I can't believe he's gone," she choked.
Severus reached forward and took her hand. "I believe... Black would have preferred to die this way. Melodramatic, in battle, probably taunting his adversaries into a frenzy." Only Severus could truthfully compliment and insult someone in one breath.
Lily huffed a laugh through her tears. "He's probably having a good laugh right now," she said. "Death by drape. It'll go down in history."
Severus smirked and raised his glass. "To the first casualty of war."
Lily raised her own. "To heroes."
Severus did not deny it. He just raised his glass and drank with Lily.