The conservatory was the only bright room within the dark confines of Grimmauld Place. It was the Black brothers' favorite room. They used to play hide-and-seek for hours in the sprawling sunlit garden. Even now, after Sirius had abandoned him, Regulus still found comfort in its glass walls. Severus would like it, he had thought the day after the Dark Lord had come to Grimmauld Place, glancing at the magical plants tucked in and around the towering, exotic blooms.

Dinner with the Dark Lord had been surprisingly normal. How many times had he sat at the long formal table in his best and itchiest robes, listening to his parents talk politics with one of their friends? The Dark Lord had always seemed magnetic and mysterious while lounging in the semi-darkness of his headquarters. But here, sitting next to him, Regulus could see the fine lines crossing his mouth and crinkling in the corners of his eyes. His aging flesh, the old acne scars from when he had been a teenager; the Dark Lord looked small and old and ordinary.

Somehow or another, Snape was brought up.

His mother was telling him the story that Regulus had silently named The Folly of Eileen Prince. "Looking at her you would have never thought she was capable of it," Walburga said. "She had seemed so meek and quiet when at school, but apparently she had always had a secret stubborn streak. So much that Septimus Prince had drawn up a marriage contract between her and Orion in the old ways. He was determined to make sure she was properly controlled, since she lacked the restraint to control herself. Of course, being the type of girl she was, Eileen ran off and married the first Muggle who would have her just to spite her father. And look how well that turned out for her! Regulus tells me that her half-blood son turns up to school every September with fresh bruises! Oh, well–" Walburga smiled at her husband and took his hand. "Her loss is my gain."

Regulus kept his eyes on his plate, embarrassed on Severus's behalf.

"The Prince line survives?" The Dark Lord asked, turning his red gaze onto Regulus.

Regulus sat straight enough that he could feel his muscles tremble. "Yes, my Lord, his name is Severus Snape. I believe Lucius Malfoy told you about him."

"He didn't tell me his mother was a Prince."

"It didn't become public knowledge until last year."

"Tell me," The Dark Lord smiled. "What do you know about the old Prince family?"

"They were an ancient Pureblood family. A good one, until Eileen came along. Septimus had been the last of them. He died four years ago," his father said.

"There's a bit more history to the family than that," the Dark Lord replied, still with that smile, the one that said he knew a secret that he wasn't going to share. "There's a lot of power in the Prince line. Your son could do worse for a spouse."

His parents froze, torn between horror at the thought of their son marrying a half-blood and laughing at the obvious joke. It must be a joke.

The Dark Lord turned to Orion. "The contract will be activated. Your son will marry this Prince."

"My Lord–"

"Provided the Prince agrees, of course," the Dark Lord smoothly interrupted. "But Lucius assures me he is eager to join our cause."

"He's a half-blood!"

"This marriage does not need to produce children, Walburga," the Dark Lord said. "Your son is free to reproduce with someone more suitable. But I want that boy's magic contained, do you understand me?"

His parents knew better than to argue.

Regulus had not thought much of Severus Snape when he first came to Hogwarts. The boy was pathetic. Always trailing after that mudblood girl, allowing himself to be pushed around by his brother and his friends, just another dirty, ill-mannered Muggle-spawn. His opinion changed after Sirius left. Where Regulus had once thought Severus defiant, bucking against his betters like Sirius and Potter, he now saw him as proud and determined, refusing to bow to the whims of that blood traitor. Learning about his parentage only cemented this new vision of Severus. His harsh, ugly features transformed into sharp elegance.

But marriage?

Regulus spent the rest of summer turning it over in his head. This was important to the Dark Lord. Somehow or another, binding Severus to him could only help further their Lord's plans, and Regulus wanted nothing more than to be useful. To be a hero. When the war was won he wanted his name written in the history books. This was his first task, and he wasn't going to fail.

It was Severus's birthright, wasn't it? To be bound to the Black heir as bride and helpmate. There was something poetic about it, that after all these years the contract would finally be fulfilled through them. And Severus… how much better his life would be once he became Regulus's! Regulus would never treat him the way his Muggle father did. He would live the life he was always meant to live.

Again, Severus's face changed in Regulus's mind. Now there was something softer, something tragic and beautiful that Regulus had to protect. Those large dark eyes became even larger in his mind's eye. He remembered every detail of Severus's expression when Regulus asked him to marry him. The light filtered through the thick green leaves, casting the greenhouse in a soft glow. Severus had looked at him with those same large, dark eyes, a blush staining his cheeks. "Alright," he said, his voice meek. This proud creature was humbled by his offer, Regulus could tell.

And then came Mulciber.

Mulciber, who was looking to enter the Dark Lord's inner circle after graduation, saw an opportunity to stand out amongst the myriad of Pureblood youths vying for the Dark Lord's attention and he took it. Regulus had raged about it to his parents, hoping the Dark Lord would punish Mulciber and return Severus to his rightful groom, but instead his parents sent him a letter informing him that if he wasn't strong enough to defend what belonged to him, then he had never deserved it in the first place. Mulciber had won Severus according to all of their rights and traditions, and the Dark Lord looked favorably on him for it.

Regulus had failed Severus, and each time he saw Rosier and Avery lingering outside their dorm room, or the bruises on Severus's skin, the weight of his failure felt crushing. Regulus wasn't going to lose again, especially not to a mudblood that had already hurt his Severus once before.

The note was delivered with the morning mail. It was written on thick, expensive parchment and sealed shut with the Black family crest. Sirius's gaze fell on it immediately when it landed in front of Lily.

"Is that–?" He asked and tried reaching for it, but Lily was quicker. She snatched it and thrust it into her pocket before hurrying out of the Great Hall. A week had passed and she was still wearing James's trousers, and her hair was more often than not thrown up into a ponytail or bun. She'd even started going bare-faced without lipstick or blush, only the barest hint of foundation. How many times had her mother said that going out in public without wearing lipstick was practically the same as being naked?

Funnily enough, she almost did feel naked without that touch of red staining her lips, and Lily didn't know what to think about that.

She knew what everyone else thought. James had stopped making those flirtatious comments about her wearing his clothes, and started making pointed references about how "cute she looked with her hair down," and "You have the best legs in our year, Evans, you should show them off." Even Slughorn had the gall to pull her aside after class and lecture her on how important presentation was, that first impressions were important and that she shouldn't dress so sloppily. When she pointed out that she was just as sharply dressed as the boys, Slughorn had hemmed and hawed and said, "That's different."

Then, of course, there was Mulciber, who had returned from his stint in the infirmary breathing fire. Almost everyday she could hear his voice echo, "Dyke!" through the halls.

The only person who never even mentioned her new look was Sev, but Lily suspected she could wear a traffic cone on her head and Sev would take it in stride. It's not as if he hadn't heard insults enough throughout his years at Hogwarts for the state of his own clothes.

Lily broke the seal and unfolded the letter as she made her way to the library where she knew Sev was already waiting. It was short and to the point:

I, Regulus Black, challenge you, Lily Evans, for the right to marry Severus Snape. Meet me at midnight at the Dueling Ground or forfeit your claim.

She entered the library and dropped her bag at their old table, the one tucked in the back near the Restricted Section. Sev looked up from his book, saw the parchment and its broken seal in her hand, and sighed. "Reg's an idiot."

"His handwriting is so pretty!" Lily couldn't help but say, and turned the letter around to show off the fancy calligraphy.

Sev snorted as he scanned the letter. "Are you going to show up?"

"Of course!"

Sev sighed again, and this time it sounded as if it was coming up from his very soul. "It would be better if you forfeited."

"So you can continue to be passed around until you finally end up married to one of them?" Lily demanded. "I can't support a system that deprives you of your freedom."

"So you're going to fight it by fully embracing it?" Sev sneered.

"What happened to us being a team?"

"We're not a team. We're not equals."

"I'm not giving up," Lily insisted, feeling her face flush with anger. "I saw what Mulciber did to you. I'm not going to let it happen again."

"A slap is hardly–"

"I saw him put you on your knees," Lily hissed, her face coloured not only with anger, but embarrassment and jealousy and lust.

Sev went white as a sheet. His eyes looked somehow darker against the unnatural paleness of skin. Then a change came over his face, his expression twisting into that mocking cruelty Lily had seen more and more these past few years. "Liked what you saw?" He asked, his voice low and dark and dangerous. Dark, dark, dark. "Is that why you're so determined to win me? You've never tried so hard to protect me before, but then again I never tried eating you out. Or maybe you'd rather I blow you. Is that why you've started wearing the boy's uniform? Do you wish you had a cock? Tell me, Evans, do you want to put me on my knees?"

Lily's heart was thundering in her chest as Snape ripped open the hidden thoughts she only dared let herself linger on when her mind was cloudy with the haze of sex. He had spread his long, spindly legs underneath the table so his feet bracketed hers. If it weren't for the thin slab of wood between them, they would be wrapped around her waist. "Shut up," Lily whispered. Her voice was hoarse. "Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up! "

That cruel, animal expression broke and whatever dark thing that had taken hold of her Sev fell away. He yanked his legs back, tucking them underneath his chair. He folded in on himself, shoulders hunched and shaking as he looked around at everything but her. "Sorry, I'm sorry– I don't know why I say things like that– I'm sorry."

He was her Sev again. Lily raced around the table to sit next to him. She wanted to hold him, hide him away, but her hands hovered inches above his skin. She didn't know how he would react to her touch. "You need to tell a professor."

Sev shook his head violently.

"Please? What about McGonagall? You like her, remember? Or Promfrey, at least?"

"I can't," he said. His voice sounded broken.

"Why?"

She could see his eyes were wet with unshed tears. He still wouldn't look at her. "I agreed to it, Lily. I agreed to the contract because the Dark Lord asked me to."

He finally looked up at her, and his expression was that of a man waiting for the executioner's axe to fall. Lily felt the air in her lungs freeze. Half of her was in shock, the other half was berating her for her own stupidity. Why are you so surprised, Evans? You knew what he was. You knew from the moment he called you a Mudblood. And yet it had been so easy to let herself forget, because Sev was hurt and a victim and Death Eaters weren't meant to be either of those things.

She still remembered what Sev had said days earlier, about leaving him to Potter after… just after. "I'm dueling Black tonight," Lily announced, sounding more sure than she felt. "And I'll find a way to break the bond."

"And after that?" Sev asked her.

He was always worried about after. "We'll deal with that later. We have to focus on what's important." She grabbed his hand. "We're a team."

Sev sucked in a breath, looking calmer than he had seconds ago. "Reg's not the best duelist, but he's still loads better than you–"

"Hey!"

"If you're going to duel him, you'll need to unleash everything you have." He fixed her with a piercing gaze. "Don't hold back. Overwhelm him with power before he can disarm you. You cannot lose. Not for me, but for yourself. The Slytherins feel humiliated that someone like you managed to beat Mulciber. If they disarm you, I don't know what they'll do to you."

Unlike last time, Sev was waiting for her at the entrance to the dungeons, dressed in those fancy robes. He picked at them a little self-consciously. "Reg bought them for me. You know how Purebloods are. I'm sure Potter is just dying to dress you up like his own personal doll."

Lily snorted. "I think at this point he'd just be happy if I started wearing skirts again."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. When they entered the Dueling Ground she could see the outlines of the other Slytherins half-hidden in the shadows. Rosier stood at his place near the door, once again serving as her first. She thought she saw Mulciber's blond, curly hair glinting in the candlelight, before Regulus Black stepped forward into the glyph, blocking her line of sight.

"Evans," he said, bowing. His gaze flickered to where Sev stood demurely behind her and Lily wanted to growl. She wanted his eyes off of him. It was his fault this happened to Sev. His and You-Know-Who's.

Lily gave a short, jerking bow in response, and then she was flinging out her first spell. She wasn't going to stand around and wait like she had last time. Black parried, using a shield to block it and send the spell bouncing towards the ceiling. She heard more than saw Sev take a half-step forward, a half-aborted sound of frustration tangling in his throat. She could practically hear him in her head yelling, don't hold back! Use everything you have!

Black sent a line of green flames towards her feet, forcing Lily to the edge of the glyph as she danced away. "Is this the best you've got?" Black demanded, a sneer twisting his fine, beautiful features. "No more tricks in your bag? I should have expected as much from a Mudblood."

Lily saw red. "Confringo!"

Black ducked just as the spell tore through the air, striking one of the columns and sending a shower of finely powdered dust onto the cowering Slytherins as the column was not simply blasted, but pulverized. There was nothing left of the column but a mist that lingered in the air. That wellspring of power flowed through her. She could do it again, and again; she wanted to do it again.

Black whipped his head around, but he didn't look at Lily. His eyes were transfixed on something behind her. "Sev–!"

Lily didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence. "Expelliarmus!" It was such a simple, childish spell. Something a second year, or even a first year might use. But that wellspring pushed out from the confines of her body, erupting from the tip of her wand, and she saw Black's wand wrenched free from his hand with such force that something snapped in his shoulder.

He collapsed onto his knees, grasping his arm as his wand flew into Lily's hand with a satisfying smack. She saw a few of the Slytherins step out of the shadows and surround Black. Someone cried out, "I think his shoulder is dislocated!"

Lily smiled triumphantly down at him and turned, ready to share in her glory with Sev when she pulled up short. Rosier was kneeling on the ground, leaning over a hunched figure that was swaying precariously, long, black hair covering his face. Rosier tilted Sev's head up and Lily could see blood pouring from his nose, dripping down the long line of his neck and soaking his collar. "Evans!" Rosier barked at her. "We need to get him to the infirmary!"

Lily wasted no more time.