Fifth year, Part 1

Skyrah was in a foul mood, as customary every first of September. It signified an adieu to her mother and grandmother and a hello to a school that was no better than a prison to her. Books were her only refuge, and so she ate quietly and abandoned the feast to read her favorite book in peace, curled up on one of the leather sofas in her Common Room. It was a History book her grandmother had given to Skyrah for her seventh birthday; one which never failed to allay her anxiety. She was engrossed in the chapter on the Roman Kingdom when she heard a psst.

She raised her eyes from the page.

Nobody was there.

She continued with the reading.

"It's me," said a familiar voice. Shivers ran down her spine.

"Severus?" She craned her neck. "Where are you?"

"In front of you. Invisibility potion. Please follow me to my dorm."

"Excuse me?" she choked, a deep blush coming to her face.

"Quick, before the guys get here. I haven't forgotten the deal, but I truly need your help. I don't know whom else to turn to."

If it weren't for the alert in his voice, she'd have ignored him as she'd done ever since the Lunar Ball. She followed the sound of footfalls and entered his dorm when the door seemed to open on its own. The room was perfectly tidy and smelled fresh; something she suspected wasn't its natural state during the school months.

"How bad is it at home for you?" he asked.

"Why should I tell you?" As she was still holding her dear book, she couldn't fold her arms across her chest. She could only squint at Severus, or rather, at the spot she figured he was standing, and try not to cringe at the memory of the punishment she received after Voldemort learned she'd gone to the Ball with a boy and hadn't told him.

"My classmates would have questioned me if I hadn't attended the Ball," she had told her father after the curse, trying not to tremble in front of him, not to show weakness. "I taught the ones who asked me out a lesson by rejecting them and choosing my date myself, a testament to who holds the power: me, not them. Everything was an act. We haven't talked again. The boy served a purpose."

Effective lies.

Her father didn't inquire about her date's identity. Power was more important than that, and so he didn't know who Severus Snape was. The only thing he knew was his Hogwarts House, one into which Voldemort believed no muggle-borns were sorted.

"Do you have any experience of healing spells?" asked Severus, bringing her back to the present. "I can't go to the Infirmary like this."

His body had materialized in front of her while she'd been reliving those bad memories. He had his uniform trousers on, his worn-out shoes tied. His arms and torso, so thin the ribs were visible, were uncovered, blemished with bruises which ranged from yellowish to nigh black. Her hand lifted and stopped midway, never getting to cover her mouth. She'd swallowed her surprised gasp.

"Madam Pomfrey will help you. She's better than me at this. It's her job."

"Madam Pomfrey will know I didn't get these in the train or the castle," he remarked, pointing to the fading bruises.

"Maybe she should know."

"Does she know about your father?" he snarled, causing her to duck her head in shame. "I can take care of the ones here." He gestured to his chest and abdomen. "But I can't reach my back."

"Why come to me? Why haven't you asked Evans to help you?"

"Lily doesn't know about my father, nor will she ever know. Are you going to help me or not? We haven't got much time."

Skyrah set to work. She wasn't prepared for what she saw: apart from the bruises, some wounds hadn't healed well. If she had to guess, she'd say his father had used a belt on Severus. The muscles on his back kept flexing and relaxing while her magic worked on him. Her palm settled on his shoulder blade, forcing him to stop. She'd have sworn he'd shivered under her touch.

"Could you keep still? I don't wish to make it worse. Relax your muscles. That's it. You're doing very well. I'll finish in no time." None of her peers but Severus had ever heard her use that gentle, warm voice, as if trying to calm down a scared animal.

"Aren't you going to ask me what is it I did or said to deserve this?"

"Nothing you could've done or said could justify this. Nobody deserves such treatment."

"I threatened my father," he replied anyway. "I told him that if he hurt my mother while I was at Hogwarts, I'd make sure he'd pay once I become an adult wizard. He didn't like my defiance, and this happened. I don't even care about the beating. What truly hurt me was my mother's reaction. She only asked me not to cross my father. I did it for her. I did it for her, and she still..."

If Skyrah could've seen his face, she'd seen he was biting his bottom lip to avoid screaming. She did notice, though, his whole body was shaking.

"It's okay to feel the way you do," she said, still using that same soothing voice.

By Merlin.

He'd waited all his life to hear such words diracted to him. They were as healing as the spells she was using on him.

"You were trying to help your mother. That's noble. She's lucky to have such a brave, caring son, whether she realizes it or not."

At her words, the shaking gradually stopped, and Skyrah could continue. Every time she healed a wound or made a bruise vanish with some balm he'd prepared himself (probably clandestinely during the Sorting Ceremony and feast – it was still hot), her fingertips lingered. They caressed his skin in soothing circles as if confirming the pain was gone for good. It made him sigh (in relief, she thought), and once, moan.

"Does it hurt here?" she asked, withdrawing her hand.

"N-no."

If that was true, his moan hadn't been of pain but of…

"Oh," she mumbled, thankful he couldn't see her flushed face. "I'll stop doing that."

He'd rather she didn't. Letting his opinion known, however, would mean his soul, apart from half of his body, would be naked before her. Having finished with his lower back, she proceeded with his chest and abdomen. He didn't remind her he could do it himself lest she'd stop. With her fingertips, she brushed the last bruise: the most nasty-looking one. The cry he let out made her start.

"Sorry! I think you've got a broken rib, only cracked, perhaps. You'll need rest and skele-gro for that. There's a scar on your back as well. I couldn't do a better job. It seems so old dittany won't make it fade even if I managed to get some for you."

"I don't care about another scar."

"Another?" She cupped his face with a slightly unsteady hand, unsure about whether touching him like that was wise, or knowing it wasn't, but doing it nonetheless. Against his better judgment, he shut his eyes and leaned into her touch. How he'd missed her warmth and smooth touch. "May I…?"

"If I show you, you'll think I'm a monster."

"I've seen a real monster. You aren't one."

"You only say that because you haven't really seen me."

"Until you remove your glamour, that will remain a mere supposition. I've got scars, too. Scars don't scare me. Your scars won't make me see you differently."

So he uttered a finite incantatem.

Pity.

Sadness.

Horror, perhaps.

He had prepared himself for that but not for her fury. She'd let go of his face, breathing harshly.

"Your father did this to you? And you think you're the monster? He's the monster! Not you!"

"These scars make me look even uglier than I already am."

"These scars show the hell you've been through. They show you're strong. Is strength ugly?"

"Most people would see a scar as weakness. They weren't caused by a werewolf or any magical beast. I allowed a…" Muggle. "I allowed a man to hurt me."

"Your father, Severus. A father's supposed to protect his child. Your scars don't make you ugly. That's what he wants you to believe. Please don't succumb. I know it's not easy. I struggle, too, every day, but we have to try. They have no right to make us feel so small and insignificant. We can't let them win without a fight. You don't look like a monster; you aren't. And it isn't your fault you couldn't stop him from hurting you. It isn't your fault your father is like that." To herself, she muttered under her breath, "It isn't mine, even if I sometimes think so."

The urge to ask her to hold him, to let her words sink in as she rubbed his back and perhaps even crooned that Irish lullaby, was strong, but all he did was hunch his shoulders. If he acted on his impulse, Skyrah'd rush out of the dorm. He was quite certain of it. Little did he know she was fighting an impulse of her own, one that asked her to trace his scars and kiss them until he believed her when she said he wasn't a monster. It was powerful. Frightening. If she yielded to it, they'd be in trouble.

"May I see your scars? Only if you're comfortable with that and they're in a place that doesn't require you to undress."

She nearly smiled, thinking he looked adorable with his red ears. "Mine can't be seen on my skin."

"Doesn't your father beat you?"

"The cruciatus curse is more his style."

His pupils dilated. "He should be in Azkaban."

"So should yours."

"Not really."

"You aren't the kind of half-blood that's got a muggle grandparent and a wizard and a witch for parents. Your father's a muggle himself, isn't he?"

"…My mother used to be a Prince."

"So I was right."

"Will that change the way you see me?"

"I'm sorry… I can't… There are many things I can't tell you. But know I respect you."

"Like you secretly respect Lily?" Skyrah paled. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Why would you want me to remain friends with her if you didn't respect her? You're the only Slytherin who encourages me to be Lily's friend. Years ago, I asked you whether or not you'd help muggle-borns if Potter targeted them. You said no, and I don't think you lied, but that doesn't mean you wouldn't want to help them. Something stops you… or someone: your fear of yourself, your father, maybe something else. I remember that time you made Lily feel small. You didn't enjoy it."

"Severus—"

"Will you deny the truth?"

Skyrah swallowed hard. "I can still obliviate you."

"You won't."

"Why not?"

"Because you trust me. Maybe not enough to tell me the whole truth, but enough for me to know more than the rest."

Her breathing became a bit shallow and fast, enough for him to notice. "This is too dangerous. You aren't supposed to know… Nobody can know, or else my father…"

"Do you think I'd tell, especially now that I know he uses the torture curse on you? I'd never hurt you like that. I'll keep the secret, just like I know you'll keep my secrets."

She stared into his earnest eyes in search of the truth and found no trace of deception, no attempt at occluding to disguise his emotions. He was struggling not to look at her half-open mouth. It was both relieving and worrisome: relieving because her gaze kept drifting to his lips too, and that made her feel like her reaction was normal; worrisome because he should be over her, and she should be over him.

"We've got another deal," she said, forcing herself not to think of that mouth that had kissed her so gently and those eyes that saw her, really saw her, for whom she was. "It must be difficult to focus with that rib. I could sneak into the Potions classroom to brew some skele-gro, or steal one from the storage."

"I'll go myself. I can handle the pain. You've already helped me even though you didn't have to. Thank you."

It was then that it dawned on Severus and Skyrah that they were surrounded by beds, alone, with one of them being half-naked. If any of his roommates came in, they wouldn't hear the end of it.

She asked, "Do you need anything else?"

A smile. A hug. A kiss. Her hands on his skin.

He shook his head.

She'd taken her book and reached the doorway when he called her name.

"Will you pretend I don't exist again? Will you pretend what happened last year doesn't matter? That the secrets we've shared make no difference at all?"

He got his answer when she went away, not even turning her face to look at him one last time. Otherwise, he'd witnessed her occlumency walls collapsing brick by brick.

Skyrah was reading a letter her mother had sent her. Only a week had gone by and she already missed her and her grandmother, and dreaded being so close yet so far from Severus.

A familiar voice interrupted her with a cautious greeting.

Evans.

"I was hoping we could talk."

If so, you'll be hugely disappointed, thought Skyrah. Though she kept her gaze on the letter, the absence of a subtle smell of potions and herbs told her that Severus wasn't with his friend.

"Are you too busy or...?" Since Skyrah didn't reply, Lily continued, "Sev told me about the deal. He was heartbroken. He still is."

Skyrah gripped the letter a bit more strongly, almost crumpling it. She recalled how he'd looked at her after telling him she couldn't pull out of the deal. The memory alone made her feel guilty.

"I thought you were playing with him, manipulating him, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe you became fond of him, and now you miss him. Maybe you had a good reason to behave the way you did, and you're sorry for how everything ended." When Lily realized Skyrah wouldn't confirm nor deny anything, she added, "When you started your education here, Sev would often tell me he'd like for the three of us to become friends. Is it too late for that?"

Lily took Skyrah's silence as a yes. Still, her Gryffindor stubbornness didn't allow her to give up just yet.

"I know our past is complicated, but can't our future can be different? I've spent the summer reflecting. Sev's a good boy. Highly intelligent. The way he describes you… I'd love to get to know that witch. Tell me, where are you from?"

Skyrah didn't answer.

"I live in Cokeworth, England. And you?" pressed Lily with no success. "Are you an only child? I've got an older sister."

Again, Lily got no answer from Skyrah, who kept her eyes on her mother's letter. More questions followed, all of which were answered with silence and indifference:

"When did your passion for History begin?"

"Have you ever been to a dragon sanctuary? I'd love to, but I haven't had the chance yet."

"Do you read poetry? Sev does, sometimes. He introduced me to it. I've always preferred comics. DC comics. You probably aren't familiar with them (they're muggle). Sev and I love them. I collect them. Do you collect anything?"

A hundred more questions could come. It'd make no difference. All the answers would be the same. Lily counted from ten to zero in order to remain composed: a futile attempt.

"Have I done something to you? Have I offended you or made you feel bad?" Lily was ready to apologize if so. Severus would like that, and perhaps, after an apology, she and Skyrah could pretend to meet again and start anew. Either Lily'd done nothing wrong or Skyrah still believed talking to Lily was a waste of her breath. "Do you think so low of muggle-borns you won't even look at me while I talk to you?"

No sound came from Skyrah, apparently focused on the letter. In truth, she was starting to feel nauseous and wouldn't have been able to read a single sentence.

"If Sev likes someone like you, he can't like someone like me."

Lily had just stood up, ready to leave, when Skyrah yelped a 'wait'. It had been instinctual, something her brain was now admonishing Skyrah for. When Lily was looking at her with those surprised, bright green eyes, Skyrah couldn't pretend she hadn't spoken.

"There's something you must know."

"Why should I listen to you when you've been ignoring me?"

Lily started walking, ignoring Skyrah asking her to wait, to stay just for a moment, and then, she heard it:

"Severus doesn't like me!"

That, Lily couldn't ignore. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around slowly. Skyrah was right behind her, pressing her letter against her chest.

"He doesn't like me," she repeated.

"You're right. It's deeper than that." Lily wondered if the pink shade of Skyrah's cheeks was due to frustration or something else.

"You don't understand. He likes a Skyrah that doesn't exist. I'm not who he thinks I am."

"Sev thinks you aren't like the other Slytherins, like Mulciber and his friends. Is he right?"

"Yes."

Lily couldn't tell if Skyrah was tricking her or being truthful (Skyrah'd mastered her poker face, and Lily wasn't that good at reading facial expressions anyway).

"If you're truly good and kind, why didn't you look me in the eye and talk to me?"

Because I'm reminded of Faith. Because I'm reminded of the friends I could have if my life was different. Because I get sick thinking of what would happen to Severus's best friend if I were to be weak again. Skyrah occluded and gave Lily a cruel smirk, one she'd also become proficient at.

"I said I'm not like the other Slytherins. I didn't say that I'm kinder than them. I know how they treat those of your blood status. I know what they call those like you, and how interested in the Dark Arts they are. If you're scared of them, you should be terrified of me, because I'm more ambitious than them, slier, sharper. Most teachers are aware of students like Mulciber and their beliefs. Their families aren't subtle about it. But me? They don't even know about my parents. They don't know, and will never know, what goes through my mind."

"I could tell them—"

"Good luck with that. Your word against mine."

"I'm well-liked by our teachers, including your Head of House."

"So am I. Do you really want to fight a cunning Slytherin that has a certain disregard for the rules and a natural talent for manipulation? Trust me, you'd regret it."

Lily shook her head, disgusted. "What did you do to Sev? Why doesn't he see who you are? Is it a love potion? A dark spell?"

"I haven't used magic on him. Hormones must be the answer you're seeking," said Skyrah in a nonchalant tone.

"He's more intelligent than that."

"Is he? He chooses to see me a certain way."

"And you don't stop him."

"It isn't my problem." Skyrah went past Lily with the intent to finish their conversation, only Lily grabbed her by the shoulder. She let go in an instant.

"There's something I don't understand. If you're worse than the future Death Eaters, why did you take the time to tell me that Sev doesn't like the real you? I'd have suffered if I thought he did. If you're as devious as you imply, why tell me at all? Maybe he's right. Maybe there's kindness in you, but you hide behind your threatening tone."

"If I hadn't told you, you might have suffered, but not as much as you will now, because you learned the truth. Severus will refuse to believe it, and you won't be able to do anything to change it."

Skyrah went directly to the Infirmary after that. If Poppy hadn't given her a potion for her stomach quickly enough, Skyrah would have vomited right there and then.

"Miss Riddle, there isn't a stomach virus running around. You haven't eaten recently. Something else made you sick. We may talk about it. Nobody would hear us if we cast the charms. You'll find that talking is much more effective than potions for such cases."

Skyrah would've declined, but just looking at Poppy made her want to trust her, to let the matron mend her heart and soul. She didn't protest when Poppy pulled her inside and helped her sit on the bed, or when Poppy cast the charm.

"What happened, dear?"

It was that 'dear', so similar to her grandmother's 'sweetheart', that undid Skyrah's facade. She didn't tell Poppy that she felt like Faith would be repulsed by her, or that the words she spoke didn't sound like her but like someone she'd hate to become, like the Skyrah her boggart had taken the form of. She only wept. Poppy hugged her and whispered sweet nothings, like her mother and grandmother would have done had Skyrah been at home. Poppy didn't pressure her, and for that, Skyrah couldn't be more grateful.

Days later, a teary-eyed Poppy took a bouquet of poppies with an anonymous note thanking her for her work. She had never received a present of the like. Most of the time, her work was taken for granted, and Poppy felt invisible.

When she asked Professor Dumbledore whether he knew something about the identity of the present-giver, he smiled at her and said, "The new Slytherin Prefect thought this had to be her first task. She told me she aims for the school to be a nice place for everyone, including its staff. She means to do everything within her power to do so. Nevertheless, she didn't wish for any student to learn about the present. She figured you'd come to me and has permitted me to reveal her identity."

"Who's the new Slytherin Prefect?"

"Miss Riddle, naturally."

Poppy brought the note to her chest, promising to thank the sweet girl in person whenever she crossed paths with her.

Severus tried not to think much about Skyrah. If she'd noticed how often he failed not to stare at her in class, she hadn't confronted him about it. Not that she had to. She wouldn't approve of his staring. He was well aware of it. But how was he not to look at her when he heard her voice, the same that had spoken so sweetly to him, as she replied to a teacher's question? Or what about when she pulled her hair into a bun so that her hair wouldn't bother her while she took notes? The simple action took him back to the day he'd asked her to be his Lunar Ball date. He'd thought she looked gorgeous then. He found himself thinking the same mid-Charms class.

It was while trying not to stare at her, a week before Halloween, that Professor Slughorn informed the class they'd be brewing a hair-raising potion in groups. One of the ingredients (billywig stings) came from Australia. As it was too expensive, there weren't that many stings in the school storage. Working individually or in pairs weren't affordable options.

"Groups should be composed of, at least, four members. They may be mixed or not," said Professor Slughorn.

Lily sent Severus an apologetic look and whispered that she'd have gone with him if pairs had been possible, but no other Gryffindor would want to go work with him, and Lily had no desire to work with Slytherins that would look down on her.

"It's okay," said Severus, and he meant it.

What happened next didn't sink in for a while. It couldn't be true that Lily was joining the marauder's group to brew the potion, not when there were other Gryffindors. Severus stood frozen, still, and didn't react until Avery invited him to join his group. Petty, perhaps, but he agreed if only so that Lily'd understand how he was feeling. Mulciber was another member, as expected. Rosier wasn't. He'd joined a group composed of Slytherin girls, including his girlfriend Lucinda Talkalot, the Quidditch Captain. It wouldn't be the first time they'd go together to snog while the teacher was looking elsewhere. Skyrah, who wasn't keen on watching her classmates' tongues, sat on the stool next to Severus. Suddenly, he didn't feel so bad.

"With you two in the team, we're bound to earn some House points."

"You'd better work, Avery. The same goes for you, Mulciber."

Mulciber raised his palms in peace at Skyrah's cutting tone. "Of course. We'll collaborate. OWLs aren't done in groups."

Avery must have realized what Mulciber had said made loads of sense, for he hurried to open his book to the right page.

By the time Lily's group was in the middle of brewing the potion, Severus's group was already waiting for the potion to turn basil green and present it to Professor Slughorn. The potion had to cool off on its own for that to happen.

"So," started Mulciber. "What happened during the Lunar Ball, exactly?"

"None of your business," hissed Skyrah.

"You kissed in public," insisted Avery, twiddling his wand absentmindedly. "You looked in love."

"Looked. It doesn't mean we were." Her harsh tone almost made Severus wince. He hoped none of them could tell he was in pain. "It isn't the same."

"So Potter was onto something. There were no love potions involved, but you were pretending," concluded Mulciber. "Why?"

"Potter–"

"I'm sure your Lunar Ball date can speak for himself."

Severus exchanged a look with Skyrah, who was occluding. They still had a deal. He built his own occlumency walls the way Narcissa had taught him before providing an answer.

"Much as I hate to admit it, Potter was right for once in his life. I wanted to show him I could get a date. Skyrah and I can't stand his guts. We wanted to teach him a lesson, so we struck a deal."

"As you did with me and our chess matches," concluded Mulciber, looking at Skyrah. "That makes sense. A pity it didn't quite work out."

"He bought it for a while. It was enough," said Severus.

The potion turned green. Avery was the one who raised his hand to get the teacher's attention. Unsurprisingly, the potion was flawless. House points were awarded. In the remaining fifteen minutes, Skyrah avoided the boys by reading a book on the African History of Magic.

Severus gave her knee a tap under the table, right after the class was dismissed.

Once alone, he said, "It wasn't an act for me. I only said that because I felt that is what you'd have said. Those moments spent with you meant a lot to me. I need you to know this."

"You did well telling them that. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"What you told us about looking and being in love not being the same thing."

"They aren't the same thing."

"Were you pretending when you asked me to kiss you again?"

His voice was small; his eyes, big, filled with hope and nostalgia. In contrast, she looked like a jackalope caught in the headlights. When she moved, it was to run away.

"Wait! I'm sorry! Don't go!" he pleaded, and she stopped. The tiniest mistake would make her flee. So Severus took a big breath and said, "You don't have to answer. It wasn't an appropriate question."

"It bloody well wasn't! We agreed to forget about the Ball. I'm trying to do it. I expect you to do the same," she snapped. His downcast eyes coupled with his sagging shoulders made her heart shrink. Her voice was softer when she added, "Evans didn't like us working together. She kept glaring at me. I'd rather not work with you in any class."

"Right. I've already lost you. I can't lose Lily. Though I sometimes wish it was the other way around. I sometimes wish I had lost Lily and kept you."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"You'd never willingly team up with the likes of Potter if you had a choice."

"Please talk to her. You've been friends for years. That means something. That means a lot. How can it mean little to her when only a few weeks with you meant everything to me?"

He locked their gazes, mouth half-open in wonder. Her words weren't a lie. It hurt. It hurt to know the person who appreciated him asked him to forget about her.

"Has it healed well?" asked Skyrah, her voice as gentle as the pressure of her fingers on his rib.

"It doesn't hurt anymore."

Satisfied with his answer, she gave him a nod and left, her touch lingering long enough for him to notice.

Asking about his well-being.

What a small yet important detail. She had to care about him, no matter the number of deals she made to hide that. He needed to believe someone cared when he felt Lily was slipping through his fingers.

That very same day, Severus took Lily to the Clock Tower Courtyard and cast a charm he'd invented which made it impossible for anyone to eavesdrop. He followed Skyrah's advice and talked to Lily, telling her exactly how she had made him feel in Potions class. Her excuse for working with the marauders (to ensure there wasn't an explosion and House points weren't deducted) didn't convince Severus. After all, Lupin had taken care of that for years. Upon his insistence, she revealed that she felt safe with the marauders. Were someone like Mulciber to harass her, she'd be safe.

"Mulciber's my friend. He wouldn't dare do anything to you."

"Friend?" she asked, voice cracking.

"Maybe not a friend. I don't have with him what I have with you, but he, Avery, and Rosier are good to me. Slytherins stick together. We have to when everyone's against us. They wouldn't do anything to hurt me, so they won't bother you."

"And that should make it okay? What about the other muggle-borns?"

"How do you expect me to protect them all? I can barely protect myself from those you joined to feel 'safe'."

"They aren't as bad as you believe. They're just trying to fight those who are dark."

"So I'm dark?"

She hesitated. That alone offended him. "No, but I can see why they believe so. You read creepy stuff. You've always done it. I can't think of a reason why you'd read those things."

"For the same reason you joined those jerks, apparently. Have you forgotten how your friends treat me?" he asked, nearly spitting the word 'friends'.

"They aren't my friends. I stop them when I catch them, and they never use dark magic."

"Right. Saints, the lot of them. Four innocent souls," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He almost added that the marks they'd left on his body were relics, but she didn't know his body was covered in scars to begin with, so he didn't.

"I've never said they were saints. I don't really like them."

"My mistake."

Lily crossed her arms at his sarcastic tone. "You still haven't told me why you're into the Dark Arts."

"I like magic. Who decides what is or is not dark magic?"

"I don't know, but it isn't so difficult to see. Anything that controls, harms, or kills the victim is dark."

"Your definition is flawed. Potter and his faithful lackeys never use the Dark Arts, but they cause harm anyway. Tell me, is that okay?"

"They're wrong not to leave you alone, but you can't compare the spells they use with the magic you learn from the Slytherins and the books they lend you, especially the Malfoys."

"You're just afraid of the Dark Arts because you haven't studied them, but the world isn't black and white. Magic isn't black or white. It's just magic. The purpose with which you use it makes it good or bad, but the magic per se is neutral."

"How can you think that?"

"How can you not?"

"There's a reason some spells and potions are classified as Dark Magic. You only overlook that because of those Slytherins you hang out with. They're evil."

"When I'm with those 'evil' people, Potter and his friends don't bother me."

"Because they aren't fools! It'd be too dangerous to confront a bunch of Slytherins that wouldn't hesitate to resort to the Dark Arts. I can't understand why you defend them and that kind of magic."

"Magic isn't to blame. And the Slytherins aren't perfect. They sometimes do and say things I disagree with, but they are loyal to me and respect me. Besides, I need to be on their good side."

"Says who?"

"Who supports Slytherins, Lily? Only other Slytherins. I'm a half-blood Slytherin, surrounded by wealthy pure-bloods. I've got the wrong background to succeed in this unfair world. I need to play my cards right. Mulciber, Rosier, Avery, and the Malfoys, all of them have got connections. My future depends on them. I need to prove to them that I'm good enough."

"Every time you do that, you get away from me."

"Every time you excuse my bullies, you get away from me." Severus was gritting his teeth by then.

"At least I'm not infatuated with one of your enemies."

"Aren't you?"

Lily huffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what you think it does. I'm not blind. I see the way you look at him."

"What are you talking about? Potter's a toerag!"

"I didn't say his name." Her face matched the color of her hair. "Toerag or not, you're attracted to him."

"Potter's good-looking. So what? I don't want to date him, or I'd have already said yes to him a long time ago. But you'd date Riddle, wouldn't you? You're so smitten you don't see how dark she is! The Lunar Ball was just a game to her, and you fell into it! She's incapable of feeling anything close to empathy."

"The 'dark' girl you're so afraid of, the one without an ounce of 'empathy', was the one who encouraged me to talk to you, to make amends, and save this friendship. And I'm trying. I'm trying so hard, but I don't know if you care about this friendship as much as I do. I don't feel like you care anymore. I miss the way things used to be. I miss you."

He thought Lily'd fire back and remind him why she thought Skyrah wasn't good, listing every ugly rumor she'd come across. All he heard was harsh breathing from the both of them.

"Christ, what are we doing to ourselves, to each other?" murmured Lily brokenly. "You feel safe with the people I feel unsafe with, and I feel safe with those you don't. Does that have to affect our friendship?"

"I don't want it to, but I'm not sure you're the same Lily I met in the park," he said, fighting back stinging tears. Ten-year-old Lily used to look at him in awe when he'd talk about magic and Hogwarts. She couldn't wait to start her life as a witch alongside her best friend. He used to see light in her, the only light in his life. Now he looked at her, and all he saw was the way she'd looked at Potter like she should have looked at Longbottom, and how she'd worked with Potter and his friends in the Potions classroom as if it were okay. As if they had never bullied her supposedly best friend. "You used to see the good in me. What's changed?"

"You. You aren't the same boy. You told me being a muggle-born doesn't matter, but it does. And now you hang out with future Death Eaters."

"Whether I hang out or not with them, they'll become Death Eaters if they want to. I can't change that. I can't stop the war."

"What about you? Will you feel pressured to become one of them? Will you become their enemy by deciding not to join the Death Eaters?"

It took him a while to answer. With every passing second, she recoiled from him, and a new tear rolled down her face.

"I'm not sure anybody can tell what the future will bring us, but what I know is that I'd never put you in danger. I'll always keep you safe, Lily."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"You don't think my blood's filthy?"

"You grew up thinking you were a freak. I don't want you to believe you're a freak amongst us wizards and witches just because you've got muggle parents. You're brilliant at Charms. It's your talent, something innate. You're as much a witch as anyone in this school. You're special, Lily. I want to keep being your friend if you still care about me."

"Of course I do," she rasped, overcome with emotion.

He exhaled when she threw her arms around him and pressed her wet cheek against his dry one.

"Losing you to those who discriminate against my kind terrifies me."

"You won't lose me."

"Not even to Riddle?"

"She wants us to remain friends."

"She told you that to manipulate you so that you'd think she's good. She isn't."

"You say that because of the rumors that circulate and the many prejudices against Slytherin in general. She means no harm to you."

She shook her head. "A few weeks ago, I talked to her. I thought that I should give her a chance, that perhaps you were right about her and I was wrong. I thought the three of us could be friends, like you've always wanted."

"Oh, Lily," he whispered, touched. He'd have never done that with Potter, but Lily had. He appreciated his friend a little more. He put his arms around her tentatively, returning the hug.

"It went badly. She made me feel like shit, but I don't regret it. The talk taught me something important."

"What did it teach you?"

"You're so in love with her... If I tell you, you'll hurt."

Severus paused, considering. "Tell me anyway, please."

Lily hesitated a moment, and asked him if he was sure he wanted to know, before revealing it: "Riddle doesn't care about you. She never has."

He thought of the moment Skyrah asked about his rib and how it'd healed.

Of the hug she'd given him in the Room of Requirement while telling him that she saw him.

Of Skyrah defending him against the marauders in third year, and touching his cheek in second year.

What was that if not caring?

Whatever had happened during the talk Lily mentioned must have been an act, for Skyrah respected Lily.

You aren't supposed to know… Nobody can know, or else my father…

Severus wouldn't tell Lily the truth. He wouldn't betray Skyrah's trust like that, much as he wished for Lily to know Skyrah wasn't the witch Lily thought she was.

"I don't blame you for being in love with her. We don't choose that stuff. I just don't want you to get hurt. She can hurt you deeply."

If he'd been uncomfortable during their conversation, his uneasiness increased after Lily pronounced those words. After all, wasn't that what Skyrah had told him, the reason they'd made a deal? Hadn't Skyrah warned him several times? Even if Skyrah didn't mean to, even if she cared about him, she feared she'd end up hurting him.

Lily tightened her grip on Severus. "I'm so worried about you... and us."

"Don't be. Skyrah asked me not to work with her in class anymore. She'll avoid me at all costs. I can't avoid my dorm mates, but I'll be careful."

"I'll try not to work with Potter, Black, Pettigrew, and Lupin if I get to choose," Lily offered in exchange, sniffling. "In class, I should be safe. The teachers won't allow anybody to hurt muggle-borns."

"I won't allow it either. In or out of class. I'll keep you safe," swore Severus, making her smile for the first time in a very long time.

"I still see the good in you, Sev. We'll be okay."

She hadn't sounded certain. When he echoed that they'd be okay, he hadn't, either. Despite their promises, they had a bad presentiment. They understood the world differently and feared different groups of people. That was bound to take a toll on them one day. Their intuition didn't fail them. From that moment on, their fights, rather than waning, increased in frequency and intensity. To make matters worse, Potter bullied Severus more and more, sending him to the Infirmary more often than not. Severus had gone as far as creating spells to protect himself, some of which would appall Lily if she were to learn about them.

During one of his stays in the Infirmary on a foggy day by late March, a silhouette pulled the curtains closed and stood by his bed. His heartbeat raced when he recognized Skyrah. He couldn't think of the right thing to say after having spent so long without talking to her. Fortunately, she was the first to speak.

"I wanted to see how you're doing. It's getting worse."

"I thought we were to pretend nothing happened between us."

"This has nothing to do with the deal. I'm your Prefect and a Slytherin. If another Slytherin were in your situation, I'd be there too. You told Madam Pomfrey you'd fallen down the stairs. Not necessarily a lie, but not an accident either, I bet. Did they push you? Did they jinx you near the staircase? What happened? As a prefect, if I don't catch them red-handed or if nobody tells me, I can't do anything to stop them. I need you to confirm that this was their doing, Potter and his three vassals', and I'll deal with them."

"Don't do it."

"You deserve to feel safe at Hogwarts, especially when the situation at home is far from ideal. Without your explicit confirmation that it's them, I can't help you. I never seem to witness the scene. It's like they know where I am and stay away from me."

Funny, he felt the same, but instead of staying away from him, they hunted him. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"It would have caught the attention of everyone if I only helped you when they target various students. It would have surprised them all if I decided to help anyone, to be honest."

"And you dislike being the center of attention."

"I had to be cautious. Now I'm a prefect. I wouldn't be questioned if I helped you since I help other Slytherins. So, please, let me help you now that I've got the power."

"If you punish them every time they do something to me, they'll seek revenge. Four against one. Even you'd struggle to fight back. They don't rely only on magic. They'd hurt you, and they'd say they were doing the school a favor because we're Slytherins, and nothing good comes from our House."

"If they paid attention in History of Magic they'd know Merlin was a Slytherin," she muttered under her breath. "Professor Dumbledore should know about this."

"Professor Dumbledore will always defend them."

"Because one of them has got a secret that, if divulged, would put all the school against him. His friends help him, and Dumbledore tries to give Lupin the education he needs."

Severus lifted an eyebrow. "You know his secret? You know that he's a…"

"So do you, by your reaction. It can't be known that he actually harms another student, whether it is in human form or not. They can't draw that kind of attention to him."

"How…?"

"Lupin looks fatigued every month; ill, even. It coincides with the day after the full moon. His scars add to my theory."

Always been observant, he thought. If only Lily was a bit more like her. If only Lily believed him...

"You detected the same signs I did."

"Why haven't you told anybody?"

"I can't. A vow. Why haven't you told anybody? You must've suspected for a while."

"I did suspect, yes."

"So?"

"So I won't protest because Professor Dumbledore's letting me get an education here as well."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Haven't you figured it out? I'm worse than a werewolf."

Her self-loathing sickened him. "You aren't."

"I'm not here to convince you of the contrary or to talk about me. I'm here to help you. Despite Lupin's condition and Dumbledore's attitude, there must be something we can do to change your situation."

"I don't want you to do anything."

"You'd rather endure this suffering?"

"I'm used to it."

"It's not right."

"It is what it is."

"It doesn't have to be. If I threaten them, this might stop, but if I threaten them without any proof, I'll be the one in trouble."

"They're Gryffindors. Eventually, they'll overcome their fears. They'll target you just because they can, just because you told them off. Don't give them a reason to do so. You don't know what it's like to be constantly bullied by them. I don't want you to find out. For fuck's sake, they almost—"

"They almost…?" prompted Skyrah, but Severus kept his mouth shut. If he told her the reason he was in the Infirmary was that he'd almost died, Skyrah would get worried. He couldn't disclose the whole truth anyway. Professor Dumbledore had made sure of it.

"Never mind," he mumbled, and she let go only because he was beginning to scowl.

"Severus, I understand that you don't want me to hurt, but you forget I can take care of myself. If you'd just let me try to—"

"I said no. Don't risk it. My allies are their enemies, except for Lily. They let that time you confronted them in third year slide. It won't happen again, not now that they're so obsessed with hurting me just for fun. Please."

If not for that broken 'please', she might have pressed him. "I won't do anything without your consent. Just know I'm sorry they put you through this, Severus. So sorry. It's so unfair."

"Life isn't fair."

"I know that well. I wanted to see if I could make your life a little fairer. You don't let me."

"You still can make my life fairer. You only need to stay with me for a while. Being with you makes me forget about them. We could be Severus and Skyrah for a while, not Snivellus and that cold Riddle girl. Just you and me. Without any pretenses. We don't have to talk. We'll go back to normal as soon as you leave the Infirmary. Just stay, please."

"I shouldn't."

She was torn between following her mind or heart. Typically, the former won, but for some reason, her empathy was stronger that day, for she acceded to stay for about ten minutes. Then she'd have to attend a prefects' meeting. He thought he must have looked completely beaten for her to make such a decision. It was either that, or she happened to feel quite lonely that day. Both, perhaps. At his thanks, she smiled briefly at him. It was enough for him to return the smile. Lily seldom smiled at him anymore.

Severus patted the side of his hospital bed, inviting her to sit. She obliged him and looked at her lap; he, at her open palm touching the bedsheets. His hand and fingers moved like a spider with its legs, chasing hers. It stopped before touching her skin.

Eventually, Skyrah made a move. Her fingers brushed his and played and intertwined with his. His stomach felt funny as when he'd dance with her, or when she'd kiss his cheek or laugh with him. How he'd missed the feeling. Her touch was everything he remembered: warm and comforting. He didn't dare ask her why she was doing that. Perhaps she remembered he was touch-starved.

Lily hadn't noticed yet.

"Thanks," he rasped, hoping she'd understand. She did, judging by the gentle squeeze she gave his hand. "How have you been?" Skyrah locked her gaze with his, frowning. "Is the question inappropriate?"

"N-no. I just wasn't expecting you to ask. I'm not the one who spends too much time in the Hospital Wing."

"That doesn't mean you're okay."

"But I am. Becoming a Prefect has done me good. While I carry out my duties, I'm not thinking about everything wrong in my life."

She's still existing, not living, he realized. Suddenly, he felt as helpless as he'd been when she'd told him she wouldn't pull out of the deal.

His face must have spoken of the concern he felt, for she added, "I'm coping, Severus. I'm fine."

No, she wasn't, but Severus knew she'd remind him that's the only life she was allowed to have, and they would spend the time arguing. He focused on their hands again, taking notice of how small hers looked in his and how pleasant something as simple as holding hands was. He could spend all day like that.

They were so quiet that the noise of curtains being pulled open and closed startled them.

"Sev, what's she doing here?"

Severus held Skyrah's hand so firmly she couldn't escape. At most, she'd managed to get off his hospital bed.

"Skyrah's paying me a visit."

"A fairly cozy visit," Lily pointed out, eyes on their linked hands.

"She's offered me more support in a few minutes than you have throughout the year. She has faith in me, unlike you."

"I still have faith in you, or I wouldn't be here. She's seducing you. She, Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, the Malfoys… All of them. They're dangerous."

"For being dangerous, they've never sent me to the Infirmary."

"Sev, not again."

Skyrah's gaze shifted from Severus to Lily repeatedly and finally rested on the girl. She couldn't feel more out of place. "Evans, I reckon you haven't come here to fight. I was about to leave. I came here to fulfill my duty as a prefect."

"Since when is holding hands with students part of a prefect's duty?"

"It was me," interrupted Severus. "I initiated this."

"And she was happy to play along," Lily muttered in a tone that suggested she was trying to hold back and remain as nice as possible yet failing.

"I'm not trying to seduce him, as you put it. I was just giving him what I thought he needed at the moment because his supposedly best friend isn't there for him when he needs her the most. She prefers fighting with him as of late."

Lily squinted at Skyrah. "It's because I care about him that I warn him not to get close to other Slytherins, to you. But he doesn't listen, and we end up fighting."

Skyrah wasn't paying attention to Lily anyway. Instead, she was reminding Severus that she had a Prefects' meeting to attend and asking him to take care.

"You too, Skyrah," he murmured, loosening his grip.

Though he expected her to flee, she lingered long enough for him to notice. He would fall asleep at night thinking about that and about her soothing touch.

Skyrah closed the curtains after her.

Before she could leave the infirmary, Poppy asked her, "What have you uncovered?"

"He's got his reasons to keep secrets."

"He's always been a regular patient, but this year's been horrible. Nobody is that clumsy and gets hurt so frequently. It must be someone in the castle. I told Professor Dumbledore. He insisted he'd take the matter into his hands. Yet nothing's changed. I was hoping that, if Mister Snape didn't trust me, he'd trust his prefect."

"I'm sorry it didn't work,"

"You did your best, Miss Riddle. I do not doubt that."

Later, in the Prefects' meeting, Skyrah noticed how fatigued Lupin looked. Another full moon. What she'd give to be in his place... Oh, she must be the first one to ever envy a werewolf, and perhaps she was a little insane for it, but to her mind, Lupin had friends. He didn't have to carry his burden all alone. What a difference it'd make if she could fully trust Severus and Lily, and experience the gift of friendship once again. Instead, loneliness was her destiny.

After that encounter in the Hospital Wing, Severus and Lily made up. The peacefulness didn't last. It couldn't, with Severus getting closer to his dorm mates for protection, and Lily doing the same with the marauders. He still loved Lily deeply, and the thought they had become something more akin to strangers than to friends saddened him.

If only things were as they used to before they began Hogwarts: innocent, pure, magical, easy… That was but a dream, though, an impossible one after Severus called Lily that damned word. It didn't matter that he was being held to ridicule. Nor did it matter that he regretted his mistake straightaway, or that hearing Lily calling him Snivellus and telling him to wash his pants had hurt him more than he was willing to admit.

Only one thing mattered: he was hanging upside down, wandless, once again at Potter's mercy.