***Possible Trigger Warning, Reader Discretion is advised***

CHAPTER 17

03 February 1969 - Number 4 Privet Drive - Little Whinging, 3:59AM

"LILY MAGDALENE EVANS YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"

The young girl in question ignored her mother's furious bellow as she skittered down the stairs, like a frightened doe escaping from a hellish predator.

She was soaked with water and bore a terrible gash on her forehead, in the same area that her father had smeared with holy oil. Small rivulets of blood intermingled with the droplets of water and dripped down her face, causing her eyes to sting. She'd succeeded in coughing out the bulk of water she'd aspirated, but her lungs and throat continued to burn from the effort.

Her left arm was cradled to her chest, pale flesh horribly bruised and jolting with pain. 'Hope that's not broken," she thought with a hint of delirium. 'Not sure if I know how to fix that.'

Her right knee and ankle throbbed in equal measure, the pain amplified as she hobbled her way down the steps to reach the door. She had to go slow enough as to not exacerbate the injuries, or worse - slip and fall to her death.

'I reckon that would be for the best.'

Little Lily choked back a sob at the knowledge of knowing her fanatical parents would celebrate her death because of The Strangeness - an uncanny sort of weirdness she possessed that caused…peculiar and inexplicable things to happen around her.

Ever since it'd manifested after her 5th birthday when she'd made her dad's infamous baked cauliflower disappear off everyone's plate, her parents' so-called 'love' and 'affection' had steadily declined as they'd chosen to honor their faith instead of protecting their daughter. As more of The Strangeness presented itself in the most bizarre and inexplicable events, (especially when Lily's joy or anger or sadness or fear was stoked), so did the distance between the girl and her family. Rose and Michael's fear devolved into dread which very quickly festered into hateful disgust at having bore a "devil-child". Their poison had spread to Petunia, her beloved elder sister now her most vocal adversary.

"LILY!"

The girl jumped and turned at the abrupt sound of her mother's shrill voice, who'd stumbled her way to the top of the stairs.

Three unsightly bruises marred her face, a softer version of Petunia's. Her clothes were drenched in water, a consequence of The Strangeness blasting apart the bathtub she'd attempted to drown Lily in a makeshift exorcism. The older woman wore a uniquely unsettling expression of madness and fear as she feverishly gazed down at her frightened child.

"Darling," Rose Evans whispered in a strangled choke. "There's…a demon…inside you! You…you need…help darling! You… you need to be fixed!"

"Yeah…I need help fixing my broken arm and leg," her daughter hissingly replied. She lightly leaned her body against the railing, hoping her legs wouldn't give out beneath her.

"DO NOT MOCK ME!" Her bright green eyes - Lily's eyes - flashed with feverish ire as she bodily shook. Rose Evans (née Carmichael) would never stand for such blasphemy in the sanctuary of her home!

Born four years before the outbreak of the second Muggle World War, Rose Carmichael's earliest years had been fairly idyllic. The only child of Reginald and Marigold Carmichael (née Higgins), young Rose's world had been upended when her father had been conscripted in 1940 to join the British Army. Marigold and Rose knew very little about the man's position in the Army; just that he served as a member of the British Commandos under a unit called No.7. The clandestine nature of his role had resulted in very limited correspondence between Reginald and his family.

As with war, Reginald had been one of many casualties to perish in the Battle of Crete, bravely taking down fifteen members of the invading Fallschirmjäger to his death.

Rather than succumbing to the tragedy of losing her husband, Reginald's noble sacrifice empowered Marigold to do her noble duty in the name of God and country. In the summer of 1942 she joined Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service, entrusting the care of young Rose to her beloved sister Rhoda - a most devout Augustinian nun in the Anglican Communion. It was Sister Rhoda who laid the foundation for fervor and the infallibility of religious duty in Rose's heart, compounded by the rise of violence and discord that came with war. Rose's implacable devotion was sealed when she and Sister Rhoda survived the Coventry Blitz of 14 November 1940 by the German Luftwaffe, miraculously finding refuge behind the walls of St Michael's Cathedral. "An act of God and God alone," Sister Rhoda had resolutely proclaimed as she clutched a shaking Rose to her form, the two struggling to crawl from massive chunks of rubble and ruined masonry.

Though she hadn't become a nun, Rose Carmichael had never lost the stringency of her faith.

"OW!"

Verdant eyes cut to the pained sound. A slightly recovered but no less drenched Petunia had accidentally slammed her toe into the top railing as she shuffled to cower behind their mother. Her dark brown eyes widened in fear as she stared down at her scowling little sister.

Awoken before the crack of dawn (her mother claimed it was the 'witching hour'), a sleepy and confused Petunia had been hustled to her parents' bathroom. Her mood had immediately declined to horrified at the sight of her struggling and crying baby sister forcibly held down in the tub by their father, her freckled forehead marked by ash and holy oil. The elder Evans sister had been ordered to hold a massive and quite ornate crucifix (from Rhoda's personal collection) over Lily's submerged body as she thrashed in her father's unyielding grip. Confused and terrified, the poor girl had shakingly chanted the ancient Latin rites meant to exorcize a demonic spirit from its host.

The older girl wondered if her baby sister was truly unwilling.

"Child," Rose tried again, slowly making her way down the steps. Lily tensed and steeled her form, slowly edging her body downwards. "You are sick, daughter. Sick! Something…something is wrong with you child!" A frightful smile spread across her face. "Let me help you! Let your family help you get rid of this-this devilish rot that's… festering within you!"

Lily snorted, belatedly wondering why she was suddenly so brave today. "No thanks." Rose sputtered indignantly. "As far as I see, the only sick one with a festering devilish rot is you. Christ's sake mother, attempting to drown me?! Have you lost the plot?!"

"DON'T YOU TAKE THE LORD'S NAME IN VAIN!"

Lily and Petunia jumped in frightened tandem, with the latter slowly inching away from her furious mother to tuck herself into the corner. "I will not tolerate such disrespect from a filthy demon child!" Though she didn't show it, Lily was deeply hurt by her mother's cruel barb.

Her hysterical shouting seemed to have roused her husband from unconsciousness, because the lanky and soaking form of Michael Evans stumbled from the upstairs bathroom to join his wife and eldest daughter, swaying in an attempt to remain upright. He looked dazed and confused, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Michael had bore the brunt of watery deluge when the tub exploded, causing him to trip and bang his head against the edge of a towel rack.

Lily sneered at the sight. 'Hope he's concussed. Arse.' Her father was as devout a believer as his wife, the two having met during a rather lovely Christmas mass service in the newly renovated Coventry Cathedral.

At this point, Rose had slowly made her way down two additional steps, inching uncomfortably close to her second-born. Said daughter was no fool, body naturally tensing as her fight-or-flight response ratcheted above its default setting. Angling her body slightly backwards and downwards, Lily prepared herself to flee.

"Daughter," choked Rose, bright verdant eyes glistening with unshed tears in a seeming flip of an erratic switch. She clasped her right hand over her Auntie Rhoda's rosary, fingers whitening in her near death drip.

That was never a good sign.

With a deep breath, the youngest Evans tensed her form and prepared to run for the hills.

Rose drew another step closer…

Lily bolted.

She'd just made it past the last step when she felt Rose's spindly hand land heavily on her shoulder and squeeze, a not-so-subtle command for her stop. It would typically work when Lily couldn't escape to the sanctuary of the cupboard under the stairs. While she had no tangible proof, she was certain The Strangeness did…something to keep her parents from finding her when she hid there.

But that wasn't an option today.

Going off pure instinct, Lily half-twisted and grabbed her mother's hand with her unbroken arm while screaming at the maniacal woman to "BACK OFF!"

In response to her command she felt the unusual and tingling warmth of The Strangeness flare through her body and travel down and out of her hand directly into her mother's own.

WHOOSH!

"GAAAAH!"

A screaming Rose was sent careening backwards to land in a pained heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Ignoring the chorus of shouts from her deplorable father and spineless sister, little Lily yanked the door open and scrambled her way out.

'How are all the damned neighbors still asleep?! Didn't they hear me screaming?!'

Even Mrs. Figg - her kooky cat-obsessed neighbor - seemed to be sleeping, something she rarely ever did given all manner of meows and other strange sounds Lily often heard from her bedroom window. As eccentric as she was, the older woman was always kind to Lily, granting the little girl sanctuary during the days her parents were exceptionally… insufferable.

Grunting at the sharp pains shooting through her arm and her leg, Lily continued her hobble. In spite of the adrenaline rush still pumping hotly through her veins, she felt the icy chill of winter air dancing across her skin. Her pajamas were still a touch wet, exacerbating the frosty temperature.

It was quite the distance between Privet Drive and the neighborhood park, but if she made it to Wisteria Walk, she could cut through the small walkway between the Johnsons' and Andersons' houses, before squeezing through a similar path between the Campbell and Murphy homes on Magnolia Crescent. One of the few benefits of her parents insisting they "loved thy neighbors" when disbursing all manner of baked goods was that it gave Lily a chance to survey and memorize every viable escape route Little Whinging possessed.

Once through, she could clear the park in a few minutes and shuffle her way to the willow tree that lay about a half mile past Little Whinging proper and marked the halfway point to Cokeworth. It served as the meeting place for her and Severus - her unlikely best friend. Young Lily had met him on her eighth birthday, fleeing from home when her furious and frightened mother had attempted to "wring the demon out of her" due to The Strangeness animating her dolls to make them sing and dance alongside her in 'Happy Birthday'. She'd sought to hide in the hollow of the tree, only to startle back at the ghostly pale boy that emerged from her sanctuary.

'Like Ariel from The Tempest,' she thought fondly. Mrs. Figg always let her read Shakespeare when she hid out in her home, the pages always covered in uncommonly long cat fur. Her parents never allowed her to read such 'secular filth', deeming the themes of magic and politics entirely too radical for a proper church girl.

Hurriedly taking in her surroundings, Lily gave a little cry of relief at the sight of the walkway. Her injured limbs were well past throbbing and there were spots starting to dance in front of her eyes. Increasing her speed as she approached the narrow lane, Lily began shimmying through the passage.

'Blimey I hope I don't pass out here, Mrs. Johnson will be shrieking about it for the next month at least.' She rolled her eyes at the woman's tendency for ridiculous dramatics.

She was almost out of the clear when a sudden growl caused her to freeze.

Something was behind her.

Slowly turning her head as to not startle whatever beast had made that noise, Lily froze when she made eye contact with the creature, which growled at her again.

Ripper.

The most vicious and ill-tempered bulldog she'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. His owner was Mrs. McCarthy, a crotchety old bag of bones who was just as awful as her pet beastie. The only reason she still lived in Little Whinging was due to her son-in-law being best friends with the High Sheriff of Surrey, practically allowing her free reign. Ripper terrorized the neighborhood constantly, chasing Mrs. Figg's poor cats, digging up lawns and gardens, breaking and entering through doggy doors to steal food from the other neighborhood pets, defacing mailboxes, and just generally making himself a menace. While he disliked almost all the children in Little Whinging on principle, Ripper absolutely hated Lily.

The dog growled again, baring his teeth in vicious aggression.

Lily gulped, feeling her heart ratchet in speed. She had to be very careful, because if she made too quick a move Ripper would gain the upper hand and pounce, undoubtedly mauling her to shreds. Her leg throbbed in reminder that she couldn't even afford to outrun the savage little beastie.

'Something to fight with, something to fight with…aha!' A palm-sized rock was about a foot away. Keeping her eye on the still-growling Ripper, Lily gingerly bent down and scooped up the projectile with her non-broken arm.

She would only have one chance.

With as much precision as humanly possible, Lily threw the rock directly at the bulldog, succeeding in striking him on the head. As he whined and whimpered in pain, she didn't hesitate to flee, grunting past the pain shooting up her injured leg. Just as she crossed the threshold for Magnolia Crescenta a loud bark caused her to jump.

Turning slowly, Lily gulped at the sight of the unrelenting bulldog. He had a fairly nasty gash marred his forehead, rendering his visage more vicious than the girl ever thought possible.

Ripper barked again - a deep guttural sound that signaled his readiness to attack.

'Bugger.'

With that happy thought Lily abandoned any sort of clever evasion and just ran.

"Shite-shite-shite-shite!"

As overweight as he was, Ripper (unlike his prey) had full use of his legs and was rapidly closing in.

'I have to get to the willow tree! I have to get to the willow tree! I have to get to the willow tree!' Lily huffed the same mantra as she tried not to panic or worse; trip, fall, and end up eaten. The image of the tree's hollow held fast in her mind. Lily risked a backwards glance and screamed in panicked terror.

A huffing and growling Ripper was less than a hair's breadth away from biting straight through her injured leg.

'I have to get to the willow tree! I have to get to the willow tree! I HAVE TO GET TO THE WILLOW TREE!' The image of the hollow seared into her mind.

Ripper lunged.

Lily screamed.

WHOOSH!

The Strangeness flared strongly throughout her entire body, accompanied by the brief and terrifying sensation of being squeezed on all sides while being stretched through a tube. That lasted for mere seconds before she was suddenly spat out.

Vision swimming, eldritch eyes widened as she took in her new surroundings.

"I'm…I'm in the hollow…but…but how?..."

And with that statement (coupled with her exhaustion and creeping hypothermia), Lily Evans fainted dead away.

The sharp crunch of leaves jerked Lily back into the land of the living, immediately going on high alert.

There was a strange man standing a few feet away from the hollow, his tall silhouette illuminated by the warm glow of the rising morning sun. Lily frowned, beating back the rush of fear that filled her body. Her mother had warned her off all types of predators that lurked in the shadows, just waiting for the chance to prey on unsuspecting children. To make matters worse, she was still very much exhausted and her wounded limbs throbbed in equal measure. Her shivering had died down, but not by much. It was highly unlikely that she could fight off the man, but maybe, just maybe, she could distract him long enough to make another escape.

Making herself appear taller and stronger than she was, Lily bellowed "Who are you, what do you want?!"

The man didn't respond to her question, instead taking another step closer and crouching down to be at eye-level and seemingly filling the space in front of her. She jerked in response, pressing her back against the concave shell of the hollow as she fought very hard not to panic.

She was trapped.

An odd stick suddenly appeared in his hand, a bluish orb of light forming at its tip. The light flashed across the stranger's face, causing Lily to freeze.

He was uncommonly handsome, briefly reminding her of a muggle film actor whose name she couldn't remember at the current moment. A highly chiseled face was complemented by crystalline blue eyes shaped by dark brows and surprisingly long lashes. Dark locks curled against his head in waves, a fair few left to boyishly curl over his left eye. His expression was neutral but not lacking in warmth, eyes unblinking as they regarded the young girl glaring at him in fear-fuelled suspicion.

"I said," repeated Lily. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The man smiled gently. "My name is Tom, Tom Riddle." Lily's brow quirked at that odd surname, though that did nothing to assuage her mounting dread. "As to why I'm here…well…I was curious about who spontaneously apparated into this warded willow tree."

The girl sputtered. "Appa-what?! Warded?! What on earth are you talking about?!"

He snickered in response, the sound equal parts soothing and sinister. "I am talking about your most impressive abilities, little witch." Lily's eyes widened comically. "Apparition at your age is unprecedented, even more so that it was accidental magic." He stared at her curiously while she fought not to fidget under his intense gaze. "I can assume you were under an intense amount of stress?"

An acerbic snort escaped her lips. "Yes, an obese and violent bulldog constitutes a fair amount of stress, bloody dog is a vicious monster and-" she froze mid-sentence as her mind finally clicked over Tom's statement.

"Hang on a mo'...did you just say 'magic'?!" Eldritch eyes widened as her frazzled mind made several critical connections almost all at once.

The Strangeness…

The bizarre occurrences when she was really happy, angry, scared, or otherwise upset.

Disappearing her father's terribly cooked cauliflower…

Making the fallen rose petals in her mother's garden whirl about to the tune of Swan Lake to impress Petunia…

Making Mrs. Stuart's hair turn bright purple in English class after she'd mocked Mary Goodall for her stutter…

Making Jerome Campbell's shoes stick to the sidewalk to prevent the bully from chasing her to "beat the freak out of her!"…

Forcing Ripper to chase his own tail to prevent the little monster from attacking Sarah Murphy as the five year-old fled in a panic…

Her parents' insistence that she was possessed by the devil… being called 'FREAK!' by hateful schoolchildren… Petunia, her protective older sister coming to hate her very existence…

And just now…blasting apart the bathtub and pushing her mum away… Her eyes became impossibly large.

"So does that mean that I…that I'm…"

"Yes Lily," replied Tom calmly. "You're a witch. Possessing an innate ability to transform the world around you with the very force of your will." He waved his strange stick in an arc, causing the bluish orb to separate and float upwards, transforming into a bright sun-like sphere that flooded their position in warm light.

Lily was rapidly approaching shock. "S-S-so that makes you a-"

Tom smiled. "I'm a wizard, yes."

"Huh." Lily flopped against the hollow of the tree as she suffered through an internal panic attack though her expression remained impassive.

'I'm a witch, mum and dad are going to kill me! - I'm a witch, mum and dad are going to kill me! - I'm a witch, mum and dad are going to kill me! - I'm a witch, mum and dad are going to kill me! - I'm a witch, mum and dad are going to kill me!'

"SssSTOP!"

The newly minted witch jumped at the sound of the strange hissing that poured from Riddle's lips. "What the hell was that?!"

Riddle didn't respond in English, just hissed again as he extended his non-stick arm in the general vicinity of Lily. She jumped as a light brown snake slithered from less than a foot away from her hideout, a dark brown ventral zig-zag marking the entirety of its back. It traveled the short path to wind around Riddle's extended arm, as docile as she'd ever seen while the two exchanged a hissed conversation.

"You…you can talk to snakes?!" Lily exclaimed.

"Yes." He hissed again at the snake, smiling gently as it hissed back. "And it's a good thing too. You interrupted this one's brumation, and that of her snakelings. She was preparing to bite you for intruding upon her nest." His expression turned conspiratory. "Adders are extremely poisonous, would've spelled danger. Lucky for you, I was here."

Lily could only gawk. "How… how long have you been able to do…that?"

"Ever since I was a child. Snakes…always seemed to find me…whisssper thingsss…" He stared directly into Lily's own eyes, expression uncommonly penetrating as he watched several emotions cycle through the young girl's face and so many thoughts whirl through her unguarded mind as she processed the multitude of revelations dropped on her proverbial doorstep.

A beat passed…

"Teach me."

15 August 1971 - Florean Fortescue's - Diagon Alley, 12:41PM

"I still don't trust him."

Lily snorted out a small laugh at Severus' snide tone, almost dribbling chocolate and strawberry swirl on her traveling cloak. Her best friend was content to allow his plain vanilla to melt, preferring to scowl in Tom Riddle's direction. The older wizard was sitting a few tables away, eagerly chatting with Florean about his "most delightful!" new Dirigible Plum, Cackling Cherry, and other experimental fruity flavor concoctions. She'd noticed all of the looks leveled Tom's way from almost all of the patrons; some were admiring, some were curious, and a select few were pointedly hateful.

"I know," replied Lily quietly. "But…everything he's claimed has checked out so far, you and I did our due diligence with getting the Ministry records to back everything up." Severus grunted but otherwise didn't disagree.

Per the old Prophet clippings and other records they'd been able to discreetly request from the Office of Records-Keeping in the Ministry, Tom Riddle had seemingly checked out. He served as Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt in the Wizengamot, and held a day job within the Ministry of Magic. He was obscenely wealthy, single-handedly funding the largest charity organization in Wizarding Britain. While the Magical Youth Liaison Program was for all underprivileged magical youth, it was not lost on either Lily or Severus that the bulk of his Program's beneficiaries were muggleborns and some halfbloods. They'd even sent some discreet missives to a select few Program beneficiaries for further confirmation of Tom's charity, and so far, things had seemingly checked out.

"Plus…" continued Lily slyly. "He did keep his promise to…you know…" Severus grimaced but nodded once.

Tom had been able to do…something that had curbed the worst of the Evans' family's proclivities towards derangement. Though they were still as feverishly devout as ever, they were content to just…ignore her. It seemed that for now, Lily simply existed just slightly beyond their periphery, be at meal times, family outings, etc. Riddle claimed that he'd warded her room to prevent any intrusion, though with what spells he had not been completely forthcoming. Whatever he'd done had worked since her family was content to ignore the room's very existence as well. Threats of her being a 'devil-child', 'demon', and other such things had died down, even though Lily now knew the true meaning of The Strangeness and all that it entailed.

"He…he could do the same for you with-"

"No."

The intensity of his statement brought Lily up short. Though he'd never explicitly stated the truth of his home situation, the witch was clever enough to surmise all of the necessary details regarding the true depths of horror her best friend lived through. The many injuries she'd seen him sport in the short amount of time she'd known him was all the proof she needed to confirm that Severus was trapped in an abusive hell.

"Fine," said Lily after a few moments. "How's about you help me finish my bowl? We need all the energy we can muster up for all the shopping we're expected to undertake."

Severus snorted acerbically, but didn't hesitate to pick up his spoon to help Lily do just that.

01 September 1971 - Sorting Feast - Great Hall, 7:08PM

"What, you're telling me you can feel ambition through my head? What's it feel like - a scratchy wool sweater?"

The Hat hemmed and hawed in response to Lily's scathingly dry comment, rather delighted at the young witch's spunk.

"Oh-ho, that's a good one! Reminds me of when Ric would play gobstones with Sal, such spirited banter!"

"Ric?!"

"Yes, short for Godric!"

Lily sputtered. "He had a nickname?!"

"Obviously." The witchling could feel the Hat's sneer. "Don't you children of today still have nicknames for each other? Especially when playing a game"

"Wait what?!"

"What what? Never played an impassioned game of gobstones with your mates?"

"Well, not really but-"

Lily felt the sensation of being waved off. "We're getting off track here. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted (the witchling mentally rolled her eyes), you have excellent potential for Slytherin. Your ambition, your desire to carve out your own path and place in the world burns very brightly within you. You're rather intelligent with an acute cunning that can be shaped to properly flourish. And…a most keen ruthlessness that the House of Serpents can mold to its true potential." The Hat's voice turned conspiratory. "Besides…where else can you talk to all the snakes you want?"

Eldritch eyes widened.

"How did you know about that?!" Her Parseltongue lessons were supposed to be a secret for Circe's sake!

"Helloooo? I'm in your head, remember? And while your fledgling shields are somewhat decent, you cannot keep your mind obscured from me." Though she felt a frisson of disquiet at that statement, Lily was confident that the ancient hat couldn't access Those Memories. "Now, are you going to make the sensible choice and go with Slytherin? Because there are other little children who need to be Sorted and I really haven't got all night."

Lily pretended to think about her decision. "Hm…what if I thought Gryffindor was more sensible? After all, it is the House of your creator." Though the Hat's muttered response was unintelligible, the little witch was smart enough to know that it was definitely rude.

"While you would be…somewhat compatible with Gryffindor, you will never reach your true potential in the Lions' Den. And you can forget about chatting up the Serpent Network there - Egbert absolutely refuses to cross the Lions' threshold since the Fracas of 1789. He and Aglaia - that's the Fat Lady - haven't been on good terms since. Not to mention Parseltongue being significantly more…frowned upon in Godric's House."

"Fair enough," replied Lily agreeably. "You think Egbert will feel the same way if I were to end up in Ravenclaw?"

"...No, your intellect and scholarly abilities would soar to exponential heights in the House of Ravens, but the flame of your ambition will never burn as brightly as it could. Plus, if you do choose Rowena's House, I'll make it my personal mission to ensure that Egbert and all his little friends ignore you for your entire Hogwarts tenure."

"Alright, alright!" Despite her teasing, Lily straightened her back and jutted her chin proudly, already knowing what House she truly desired and all the risks and benefits it would entail. She felt the Hat sigh in contentment (and no small amount of relief).

"SLYTHERIN!"

Later that Night…

"Finally! Blimey Lily, I thought you lost your nerve!"

"Oi!" exclaimed the witchling as quietly as possible. "Keep your voice down Severus, I had to make sure they were all asleep!" The boy glowered at her statement, but otherwise didn't rebut as he watched the redhead soundlessly tip down the stairs. As one, the two approached the crackling fireplace.

"Are you sure this is going to work?", whispered Severus furtively.

Lily could only sigh. "Honestly, I'm not really sure. I've…I've been practicing with Tom and on my own with his notes, and he says I'm getting better. But still…" She suddenly felt nervous, afraid that she wouldn't be able to follow through.

"Well there's really no time like the present, is it?" Despite the acerbic lilt to his voice, the witchling knew him well enough to recognize the layer of encouragement hidden beneath the sarcasm.

Drawing a deep breath, she focused her attention above the fireplace, specifically the painting of a dozing puff adder curled over some history books on a writing desk. Concentrating on the snake, she hissed the greeting she and Tom had practiced for almost a week: "Hello. I…I am pleasssed to make your acquaintanccce ssshe-ssserpent."

The adder blinked open an eye, slowly unfurling to get a better look at her.

"It isss a pleasssure to be met." Her voice was nary more than a soothing whisper. "What are you called ssspeaker-child?"

"I am named Lily. May I implore on yoursss?"

The snake's tongue flicked. "I am called Kyna, a represssentaton of Apolonio'sss companion during hisss yearsss in the cassstle."

"Apolonio?" replied Lily curiously.

"The Founder'sss sssecond-born ssson, and a truer friend one could ever have." Kyna's snakey expression turned mauldin, before she shook the emotion away. "I look forward to our…fruitful asssoccciation."

"Asss do I," replied Lily politely. The snake flicked her tongue once before resuming her initial position.

"...So," said Severus apprehensively. "I can assume all that was successful?"

"Oh yes," replied Lily with bright eyes. "Yes it was."

29 October 1971, 11:57AM

"It's Le-vi-OOOOH-sa not Le-vi-oh-SAAAA! Ugh, Circe she's a nightmare, honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends!" James Potter sneered at the end of his statement, a cruel smile lighting his face as his friends chuckled alongside him (some more nervously than others). Behind him Marguerite Scarabee's expression crumpled with shame and embarrassment before she took off, causing James and Sirius to laugh that much harder.

So distraught was the Ravenclaw that she smacked right into Lily's shoulder as she and Severus came down the opposite end of the hallway from Transfiguration class, stuttering a tearful apology before scampering on.

Eyes flashing Lily glared at Potter and his trio of sycophantic idiots, enough to get all four to shut up. Unseen to her, Gryffindor Alice Blishwick nodded approvingly.

"Lily! Good to see you love!" exclaimed James, running hands through his hair while peeking boyishly at the stone-faced girl who sneered at his overly familiar tone. A withering glare darkened the Gryffindor golden boy's features when he saw Snape, standing entirely too close to the redhead for his comfort.

"Snivellus," growled James. "I see you're still sniffing around Lily here like a no-good snake who-"

"I don't recall giving you permission to use my first name, Heir Potter."

James blinked owlishly at Lily's razor sharp tone. "Well, yes but-"

"And per the terms of engagement between peers outlined in Dilworth's Guide to Wizarding Etiquette, one - regardless of blood status - cannot so casually refer to an age-mate with their given first name without express permission from the other to do so." James openly gawked, an expression mirrored by his three friends. Quite a few onlookers stared curiously at the exchange, some (mainly the older Slytherins) moreso than others.

"What the hell is a Dilworths?!" exclaimed James incredulously. Sirius, surprisingly, looked at James as though he'd sprouted another head.

"That which an Heir of an Ancient and Noble House ought to know," replied Lily snidely.

"Seems as though Potter is lacking in more ways than one," added Severus, with enough condescending snark to make James' face purple in ire as the assembled crowd laughed in varying degrees of amusement. Remus and Peter choked at the double entendre, though Sirius' eyes narrowed rather dangerously - both at Severus' quip and the humiliation of being laughed at.

"It would seem so," replied Lily rudely.

Glaring at the four Lions with enough venom to make a snake wither and curl, Lily (and Severus) turned and strode off to the Great Hall, ignoring James Potter's outraged sputtering all the way.

01 September 1972 - Hogwarts Express, 1:17PM

"You…you should tell him Severus, he can help. We know that now."

"I said no." Snape's expression was like stone, inky dark eyes flashing. Though he was outfitted in his standard dark and rather monastic robes, Lily could see the edges of a Tobias Snape hand-shaped bruise on Severus' neck and a matching one peeking through his right sleeve. A surge of rage flashed through the witchling's body at the brute harming her best friend, and it took considerable effort to quell the sensation.

Even moreso when the boy in question was in a keenly stubborn mood.

"Sev-"

"Drop it Lily." His dark eyes glowered in warning, narrowing when Lily scowled viciously. The two stared at each other for a seemingly endless tense minute, before the moment snapped as Lily tightly nodded. Snape nodded gratefully, deflating as what little strength he possessed drained away in the blink of an eye.

They sat in relative silence for a while before she registered Severus stiffen.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Snape sneered though not at her. "Potter and his hooligans, my 1 o'clock."

Lily groaned in response, wondering what the hell her bloody stalker and his arse-sucking fanboys wanted this time.

Potter was infuriatingly persistent in his foolish like for her, seemingly undeterred regardless of whatever she and Severus threw at him - be it insults, hexes, or jinxes. Potter and his marauders (she sneered at the name) were nothing more than bullies who viciously retaliated against almost anyone who called them out for hooliganism. That he so viscerally hated Severus for no reason other than his own petty jealousy was all Lily needed to know that the Gryffindor was a lost bullying cause. The Slytherin witch strongly suspected that despite his rejection of pureblood cultural norms, Potter was very cognizant of his privilege as Heir Potter and used it to his advantage, knowing his social standing prevented any real punishment from being doled out. As far as she was concerned Black was of the same mentality, even if he made a grand show of rejecting the "bigoted arsehats" that made up the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

"They're getting closer," hissed Severus, dark eyes narrowing in anger as he unholstered his walnut wand to retaliate.

Lily matched his movements. "Let them. I've been meaning to give Pus ad torrens a try."

19 November 1973 - Prefect's Row - Room 4, 10:17PM

Datura Travers whimpered in her sleep, mumbling incoherently as she dreamt about…whatever it is she was dreaming about.

As she was completely unconscious, the Slytherin Prefect was completely unaware of another occupant well-hidden in her room. Like her fellow Prefects, Datura had cast a slew of rather impressive warding magicks over the door of her room to prevent intruders from encroaching on her sanctuary.

Little did she know said magicks weren't impervious to Parselmagic, especially when the doorknob and corresponding frame upon which the magicks were anchored were serpents.

A shadow fell across the sleeping girl, revealing itself to be Lily Evans. Her footsteps were Silenced, coupled with a scent-dampening charm and a select few other spells she'd learned from Marauding With the Enemy in the Library's Restricted Section.

Along with a few others from another equally restricted book.

"SsSOMNUSsS."

Datura's form further slackened as the parsel-enhanced sleep spell washed over her form. According to Tom it was the safest and most undetectable means of incapacitating an enemy.

Lily poised her wand over the older witch's form, feeling an unexpected wave of hesitation. If she were to go through with this, there would be no going back for either of them. There would be no cure for Datura's would-be ailment, and she would be left to languish in a hell of Lily's making.

Was she truly ready to do that? Even if the recipient was completely deserving?

Her hesitation lingered for a few moments…

Before it was broken by the memory of Datura's heinous insults against her person. Calling her a "filthy wretched mudblood", and further insinuating that her thirteen year-old muggleborn housemate was whoring herself out to the scions of influential houses to maintain her position within the Serpents Nest.

Lily's wand-grip tightened as additional memories flooded her mind.

Narcissa Black's never-ending whispers of 'mudblood' behind her back, always wrinkling her expression in Lily's presence as though the witchling stunk of a most vile odor.

Violetta Fawley always seeming to spill her pumpkin juice or whatever beverage when Lily was in her proximity.

Jeroboam Jiggers sneakily sabotaging her Strengthening Solution, transforming her copper cauldron into an unbreakable stone pot.

Evan Rosier and Emma Vanity 'accidentally' bumping into her and Severus in such a way that they both fell down an entire flight of stairs, damn near being tossed off to their deaths when the steps decided to move whilst they were rolling.

The faces of her hateful housemates seemed to blur and melt into each other as verdant eyes began to glow Killing Curse green, her wand pulsing with warmth in response to its Mistress' mood.

With practiced motions the Third Year hissed the spell she'd memorized from Abraham Van Helsing's Revelantem Immortuos, specifically a parseltongue version of the spell for delayed transmutation of blood in a freshly fed vampire's body.

Two Weeks Later…

A yawning Lily stretched languidly, groaning at the sound of her popping bones. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she suddenly froze at the sight of something most unusual next to her head: a folded and wax-sealed piece of parchment with her name printed on the outside. The lettering was in a plain generic script and appeared to have been engraved through magic rather than handwritten.

A lightbulb dinged in her mind, but she still needed to make sure.

She checked her alarm wards and confirmed that they had, in fact, not been breached. Glancing at her sleeping dormmates, she was pleased to see that none stirred. They'd been giving her a considerably wider berth since Datura's' accident' in Herbology and subsequent commitment to the Janus Thickey Ward. Still erring on the side of caution, she cast a plethora of obscure diagnostic spells Tom had taught her and all of them came up negative.

Satisfied, she sliced through the wax seal with her wand and opened the letter, eyes widening at the six words contained within. As soon as she read the final letter the paper disintegrated in a flash of bright green fire, with nary a fleck of ash or residue remaining. Just a six-word question burned in her mind as it repeated (oddly enough) in Tom's voice:

"Who Is The Prince of Slytherin?"

09 March 1974 - The Lair, 9:58PM

"And just why the hell should I save those bigoted twats from themselves?!"

Severus winced at Lily's tone, grateful for the obscure translating spell that allowed him to understand the ongoing conversation. While he could understand bits of the serpent's tongue well enough, he unfortunately possessed a bit of an aversion that made speaking the language a near impossibility despite his Occludic abilities that were meant to suppress that very reaction. An academic juggernaut (Ka had told him as much), it truly peeved him that he was impaired in such a significant (if not utterly ironic) way.

He winced again as Alecto (the right head) rudely interrupted Lily to insist upon the "idiocy of her fallacious argument". The mercurial runespoor of the Hydra Throne seemed to be Lily's biggest adversary in her quest as Prince Claimant, often instigating petty little spats with her. The two (or was it four?) had never really liked each other, each considering the other to be entirely too stubborn and rigid for their own good. As the Exemplar for Wizarding Tradition, it seemed that Lily took extra umbrage to what the three-headed serpent symbolized. While she knew the truth of wizarding society didn't lie in bigoted pureblood supremacy (thanks to Salazar Slytherin's memoirs), the young witch was still understandably furious at wizarding society allowing itself to sink to the depths of baseless prejudices, and, having to bear the burden of reforming the mentality of said members (like her Housemates) that truly believed that she and all other muggleborns like her were inherently inferior.

And in some extreme cases, deserving of death on principle if the emergence of the new Dark Lord and increasingly violent anti-muggleborn sentiments were any indication.

"Because that is what being Prince entails, witchling." Eldritch eyes flashed at Alecto's sneering tone, even more so when her sisters Tisiphone (the left head) and Megaera (the central head) snickered in equally snooty agreement. "Besides, you cannot be too against the true tenets of pureblood society if your membership in the Slytherin Solution Society is any indication."

Lily glared as she silently cursed Solon - the curmudgeon banded-krait in the painting of a snake charmer that she'd rescued from an abandoned stack in the Trophy Room. While he normally wasn't of the chatty sort a la Egbert, he was always more loose-tongued when the heads of the Hydra were involved.

The Slytherin Solution Society was a 'niche' school club that advocated that Magical Britain adopt the so-called Slytherin Solution for how to treat Muggleborns and Muggle-raised Halfbloods. Composed mostly of Slytherins, a select few Ravenclaws, and one Hufflepuff, the SSS believed (in line with the Founder's true stance on muggleborns) that it was the government's duty to remove magical children out of Muggle homes at the first sign of accidental magic, memory-wipe the parents, and foster the magical children out to fully-magical homes.

The bulk of the Society believed that the Solution ought to be applied to all muggleborns regardless of their home situation. Muggle parents were ill-equipped to deal with magical children, and the very sanctity of the Wizarding World and maintaining the Statute depended on magical children being well-versed in the magical world, not fumbling about in the proverbial dark like ignorant savages.

A select few - like Lily - believed that only muggleborns and halfbloods raised in abusive home situations (like herself and Severus) should have the Solution applied. Though she had been much more jaded when she'd first started Hogwarts, consistent exposure to other muggleborns from healthy and loving homes had done a decent job of broadening her once-rigid perspective.

Unfortunately, she represented the minority in the group. Those like Isolde Avery, Merula Snyde, Duncan Ashe, Felix Rosier, Antonius Warrington, Narcissa Black, Eustace Burke, Jessop Scabior, and Magnus Bulstrode believed in the more 'traditionalist' interpretation of the solution. Others like Xenophilius Lovegood, Edgar Bones, and Winifred Abbott believed in Lily's interpretation, but alas, their opinions held significantly less weight in the face of the majority.

While Lily wasn't so easily deterred, she'd soon grown to realize that in order for the Solution to be truly effective (at least in the manner Salazar intended), it would require the complete upending in the belief and institution of pureblood supremacy. For though muggleborns would be fully incorporated into magical society, the purebloods would never accept them as equals. In fact, Lily was quite certain that in line with increasing anti-muggleborn sentiments and the Death Eater scourge plaguing Wizarding Britain, any muggleborns or even muggle-raised Halfbloods would be in serious mortal peril.

Hence the reason for the current argument with an infuriating runespoor.

"I am inclined to agree with the Furies," interrupted Rajah the basilisk, the rumbling bass of his voice effectively silencing the two arguing parties. As the three-headed serpent preened, the Claimant deflated.

"I recall you presenting the Founder's Solution as your proposed Vision to claiming the Throne, young Claimant. It is rather concerning that you now seem reluctant to renege on the very plan you believed would mark your ascendance."

Lily winced but bravely soldiered on. "That is true Exemplar of Ambition. However, the recent change in the current landscape has made my interpretation of the Solution - my Vision so to speak - untenable. I cannot, in good faith, enact the Slytherin Solution in the manner the Founder intended if I cannot change the very environment that is fundamental to sustaining the Solution." Rajah just looked pensive while the runespoor just gloated.

Jormungand tilted his head. "As we've already discussed, I do admire your commitment to the inter-house study group you've joined, cultivating camaraderie with those members that are the Presumptive Heirs and Heiresses of their families. However," Lily froze at the concerned lilt to the python's smooth tenor. "I do have concerns about your lack of initiative in leading the formation of such allyships. A Prince doesn't wait for an ally to just fall in his or her lap." Claimant Evans blushed but otherwise didn't respond.

"And are you saying, Claimant, that you lack the cunning and cleverness needed to bend the world to your will?" Mara's husky sibilance curled around the Slytherins' ears.

Well, I know for a fact that you aren't lacking the ruthless strength needed to break your adversaries' wills so they may better bend to yours." Nidhogg's impossibly deep voice rumbled through Lily's form as he wrapped his impressive girth around hers. His blatant favoritism towards the witch was unspoken, impressed with the "myriad of most delightful ways" she dispatched her enemies - both within and outside of the Serpents Nest.

"You are quite brilliant, if your scholastic voracity is any such indication," said Ka in his posh lilt. "That, and your most unconventional application of restricted magicks, rather ingenious!"

"You do possess a capacity for charm," supplied Delilah in her coquettish rasp. "Not in the most conventional sense, but otherwise still effective as needed." Lily snorted but otherwise didn't respond.

"I appreciate your sentiments, great Serpents." Severus frowned at the subtle exhaustion in her tone and expression even when it disappeared in a blink. "I'm just saying…it may take some adjustments for said Vision to be a feasible reality."

"Sooner rather than later," sniffed Alecto disdainfully. "We do have other prospects lined up."

12 January 1975 - Third Floor Corridor, 4:37PM

"Well, you didn't hear it from me, buuuut…" Egbert leaned in conspiratorially, as though he intended to emerge from his painting to whisper teasingly in her ear. "I would look to the north for where the Lion dwells, in the inverted eye that shines brightest beneath the Lion's hind thigh." Lily blinked as Egbert uttered a delighted ki-ki-ki-ki-ki, before slithering off to Merlin-knew-where to gossip about Merlin-knew-whom.

'He's spending entirely too much time with Socrates,' thought Lily, rolling her eyes in fond amusement at the thought of Egbert dallying about with the cerebral riddle-loving rattlesnake carving that framed the bust of Athena near the Ravenclaw Tower.

Ruminating over Egbert's riddle, the witch quickly eliminated any Gryffindor as another Prince Claimant as it was a complete impossibility. It had to be one of the Slytherins…but who?

"Inverted eye…shines brightest beneath the Lion's hind thigh…the north where the Lion dwells…" A few beats passed before a figurative light bulb dinged over her head.

'Regulus Black…'

Sirius' younger brother, and surprisingly less of an annoying arse than his wanker older brother. Though Regulus spent quite a bit of time with the pureblood bigots that ran amuck in Slytherin House, she'd never heard him use any nasty slurs against her or other muggleborns in Hogwarts despite whatever personal beliefs he held. She could still recall his odd reaction upon seeing her exit from Prefect Row that fateful night when she'd cursed Datura Travers, but had thought nothing of it since it had ever been officially linked back to her. Besides, per the Founder's family tree in the Lair she was absolutely certain that he wasn't a Parselmouth. Plus, she had the support of key members of the Serpent Network.

Though…

'That doesn't mean he couldn't learn to speak Parseltongue…' Eldritch eyes widened as the implications of that terrifying thought settled in.

"SONOFABITCH!"

7 December 1976 - Slug Club Christmas Dinner, 8:35PM

The sounds of Bach's Weihnachtsoratorium filled the tastefully decorated Yule-themed classroom, emphasizing the jolly atmosphere. A full buffet teemed with delectable foods created by the Slytherin House Elf and his kitchen support staff, along with a charmed fountain that spouted an array of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

Gathered all around several members of the Slug Club - dressed in their formal best - laughed, danced, and schmoozed around the room. As the host Professor Slughorn flittered from group to group, making necessary introductions to the non-Hogwarts VIP mainly composed of senior Ministry personnel, pureblood philanthropists, and a few other international guests Slughorn had managed to procure to add some extra 'razzle dazzle' to his holiday fete.

Near the center of the room was Regulus Black and his coterie, which, to the surprise of quite a few nosy purebloods in the room, included Severus Snape and Lily Evans. The former was not really a surprise; since the boy's transformation of fortune in reclaiming his once-lost birthright and becoming Heir Presumptive of House Prince, claiming his mother as his ward and resuming their place within the upper echelons of wizarding society. The story had dominated the Prophet society section for weeks, and was just beginning to die down. As with these things, quite a few of the Pureblood witches who had previously been content to sneer or outright ignore the boy were suddenly motivated to become better acquainted with a potentially fruitful match.

At the current time, Heir Prince seemed to only pay that sort of attention to Alice Blishwick.

Evans' inclusion certainly was unexpected, especially given Regulus' outward alliance with the Dark Lord's agenda. However, the youngest Black insisted that despite blood status, House Slytherin wouldn't lower itself to use uncouth and boorish language, especially in the presence of Prefects and Professors who could dock points. Duncan Ashe had been personally (and very publicly) humiliated by Regulus a month prior in the Common Room for going on a slur-filled tirade against Mary Macdonald, resulting in a catastrophic 70-point loss incurred by the Serpents and dropping to the bottom of the House Cup contenders.

However, in this case, a Prince never went far without his Consilierii.

"You look lovely Evans." Regulus' voice sounded by her ear, causing an unnamed emotion to run through her at the dulcet tone. He handed her a glass of cordial while nodding appreciatively at her attire. A subtle wave of his wand cast a series of privacy spells to ensure that they would be unnoticed and unheard.

Inspired by Madame Milburga's obsessiveness with wizarding fashions, the dress was a decadent creation of emerald green and silver, elegantly swathing her entire form to stop at the top of her heeled feet. A tasteful Georgian era neckline led to a Victorian-style corseted waist, topped off with Baroque-style embroidery in shimmering silver thread. A small solid silver diadem topped her head, bearing enchanted silver snakes that mingled with her blood-red locks in a manner not unlike Medusa.

To Lily's amusement, the serpents were hissing along to the current carol playing from the enchanted instruments.

"Thank you Regulus. You clean up nicely too." His dress robes were impeccable, befitting a Son of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

The two made casual conversation, observing and taking notes of all the attendees. While his mannerisms seemed normal enough, Lily had become hyper aware of the attention Regulus seemed to pay her as of late. That, coupled with subtle enough (but not to her) reactions when he'd find her laughing with Severus, chatting with Edgar, reviewing homework with Xenophilius, or, as of late, having a quiet conversation with James in a small window-nook Regulus would always seem to find. He and James would always trade barbs then, though Black had enough self-control to walk away and not instigate any retaliation that would cost Slytherin house points.

Suddenly, Regulus canceled the privacy wards and extended his hand in invitation. "Care to dance?" Lily blinked owlishly, before shyly nodding as her cheeks lightly reddened.

As one, the two Slytherins twirled around to the tune of The Blue Danube, Lily couldn't help but notice that Regulus gazed at her in the same way she'd see Severus gaze at Alice.

And for the first time ever, she wished Dorea Potter had spoken to her about her nephew, and not her son.

25 July 1977 - Summerisles, 12:37PM

'I cannot believe that I'm back here!'

That was the dominant thought running through Lily's mind as she sipped her serving of le tourin d'ail doux. Seated across from her was the source of her stress - Arcturus Lord Black.

She'd received a summons to dine with the formidable Lord on the anniversary of her most illuminating repast with Lady Dorea, and Lily was clever and paranoid enough to realize that it was no coincidence. She'd used the Lair's Floo to have an emergency pow-wow with Tom and Madame Milburga in Castle Basilicus where they'd spent almost 48 uninterrupted hours planning and brainstorming.

Lily could not afford to be caught flat-footed with a Consilierii of Caderyn Shacklebolt's Prince Administration (1915-1917), whom, according to the heads of the Hydra, had nearly succeeded in winning the Throne.

Though only in his mid-seventies, Arcturus Black looked much older than a wizard of his years should. He was largely confined to an elaborately-wrought wicker wheelchair that Lily could tell possessed some sort of illusory magic confined to the back of the chair and to another strange apparatus (which vaguely resembled a gilded muggle hospital mask). Despite his age, the man was outfitted in elegant and expensive obsidian summer robes befitting a Lord of his station. A signet ring bearing the sigil of House Black adorned his right hand, matching the ornate brooch adorning the upper right breast of his robes. A few feet away was his personal elf whom he'd called Ophelia. To Lily's surprise the she looked well cared for, wearing a lightly shimmering ink-black toga tied with a shimmering silver rope belt. She stood quietly and to the side, content to pay attention to her Lord and Lord alone.

As the lunch progressed they discussed a multitude of seemingly innocuous topics, though Lily was far too clever to believe it was anything as simple as that. As the two unlikely luncheon partners discussed the current Quidditch season, the society pages in the Prophet, Potion Weekly's reviews on Asiatic Anti-Venoms by Libatius Borage, and Madame Zenith Xeep's spellbinding revue in wizarding Geneva, Lily paid attention to what was not being said. The young Slytherin was hyper-aware that topics regarding the Dark Lord, the Wizengamot, and other such provocative subject matter were deftly ignored.

Once dessert was served (lush servings of mille-feuille and canelés with Turkish coffee), Arcturus reached into his robe pocket and retrieved what looked like a Muggle stopwatch made of silver and covered with a plethora of runes that looked to be mostly Elder Futhark. He twisted one of the knobs several times and then pulled out a second knob before placing the watch on the table. Instantly, all the conversational noise of the restaurant faded away as if everyone around them speaking was now whispering instead and doing so from far away and in a foreign tongue.

"Sound-dampening charm anchored to a language inversion jinx with a bit of auditory wizardspace manipulation." Lily nodded appreciatively as Arcturus quirked a curious (and impressed brow) at her recognition of the secrecy magicks at play.

"It would seem your reputation precedes you, Miss Evans."

"As does yours, Lord Black."

He chortled delightedly, taking a languid sip of his coffee as he savored a bite of his canelé. "So, my sister tells me that you and her nephews have gotten quite close. Quite fascinating, considering all the…notable differences between Houses and other such matters." That was definitely a lie. While she didn't doubt Dorea's dedication to her maiden family, she would never tangle House Potter's business with that of House Black's.

'What the hell are you playing at old man?'

"We're as close as we need to be sir. Given that we're agemates attending the same school, it is inevitable some of our interests will intersect with each other. We are approaching the beginning of our futures and what they entail, professional or otherwise."

Arcturus blinked before taking another sip of coffee. "So you desire to be an Auror? Or a Magical Curator in Regulus' case?"

Lily took a delicate bite of her mille-feuille. "I was thinking something more…academically aligned. Perhaps a few masteries in Charms, Potions, and Ancient Runes."

"Similar to the requirements to be a Magical Curator. How…coincidental, Miss Evans." And then Arcturus smiled, enough to send a chill up Lily's spine.

"It would seem so Lord Black. But, coincidences are just that, coincidences."

"So you would deny the similarities between yourself and my youngest grandson?" His tone was entirely too casual. "Interesting. I have been led to belief that you two share quite a bit of commonality…nine-heads worth I would imagine." As Lily swallowed her choke Arcturus paused to place his odd mask over his face and inhale sharply, body loosening infinitesimally.

The witch took a small sip of her coffee as her mind formulated a competent response, grateful for her bifurcated thoughtstreams. "I would imagine that as well…to see the vision ahead…to forge the alliances needed to see said vision come to pass…cunning…guile…ruthlessness to stave off an enemy…intellect…and (she bit back her internal grimace at acknowledging annoying old six-eyes)...an understanding of the traditions that helped forge the path before…" She sipped her coffee as she noted the nigh imperceptible tightening of Arcturus' gray eyes at her very suggestive statement.

"Oh…and do you share that…vision, Miss Evans?"

"...No sir, it would seem that I'm blinded by my own perspective." Arcturus blinked once before throwing his head back in raucous laughter, only to start violently coughing before breathing in from his strange mask once more.

"Oh ho! Very impressive Miss Evans, very impressive indeed." He chewed on a canalé, expression becoming thoughtful. "And if I were to ask about the current vision at play in our Wizengamot?" Though his tone certainly sounded innocent, Lily felt herself tense.

"Again, it would seem that I am blinded by my own perspective. Though I am not the only one who sees the truth of the vision from their own unique viewpoint" She shrugged elegantly. "That is…if they live long enough to tell their tale." Eyes flashed Avada green, enough to make the formidable old lord pause.

"Indeed? Some may call that…revolutionary, Miss Evans."

"Really? Feels rather cyclical, Lord Black." Arcturus blinked again before laughing boisterously, eyes lighting in genuine mirth and another unnamed emotion that made his gray eyes sparkle.

"Ah, what a delight! It's been a very long time since I have danced like this, and with one who can keep up too! Tell me, does my sister's son possess the capacity to dance opposite one as skilled as you?"

'Hang on a mo'...what the hell is going on here?!' Lily was grateful for her shields blocking her suspicion and mounting panic that she was dancing right into a trap.

"I'm not aware, Lord Black. But I am certain that he's a fast learner and in time, will learn to keep the proper pace."

The old man snickered. "Did my sister tell you that? Dorea has always known how to make the most impressive silk purse out of the most ragged sow's ear." While his tone was brusque his expression carried a noticeable fondness, enough to dull the teeth on that most vicious statement.

"She told me enough. Besides, I'm the one holding the spindle." He snickered again, though this time, the smile remained on his face.

"Ah mein Dornröschen, achten Sie darauf, dass Sie sich nicht in den Finger stechen!" His sing-song tone did nothing to diminish his sinister warning.

"Ich hatte noch nie den Komfort zu schlafen, warum sollte ich also erwarten, dass der Prinz mich weckt?" Arcturus started, clearly not expecting her to have understood him and responded. With deliberate slowness he reclined backwards in his chair, gaze razor sharp as he truly looked at Lily - studied her, analyzed her.

"As the fairytales say Fraulein: every Prince needs a Princess."

Current Time…

The steady thump of her heartbeat filled Lily's ears and echoed within her mind, the perfect anchor to meticulously review and catalog all of her Important Memories that she kept safe and hidden. She would recreate a new psychic lockbox and cast it into the sixth layer of her mind, newly protected with three passwords in Akkadian, Old Flemish, and Parseltongue. She'd been having bizarre recurring dreams of these past events, making sleep a greater chore than it ever needed to be. Amidst all that madness Lily was belatedly relieved that the memory of Death Eaters attacking her childhood home hadn't broken free of its psychic cage.

It'd taken almost a week after that traumatic event to not have a panic attack while alone in a dark room.

Still, her lack of proper sleep was affecting her mood and thus affecting her ability to work. She'd nearly chewed off Titus Mitchell's head off in her Muggle Studies' class after the boy had insisted that Muggles couldn't have traveled to the moon because wizards hadn't been able to master outer planetary apparition. While the boy's stubborn pureblood idiocy was grating, there was an expectation for her to be the more mature party.

Running a tremulous hand across her chest, Lily couldn't help but wince. The Scarlet Letter Scar was getting worse, now noticeably more stark against the pale landscape of her chest. It was becoming a chore to maintain her bifurcated thoughtstreams, to perform complex magic for longer periods, and to her great annoyance, greater proclivity to being...snippy. It'd started in the summer pre-Azkabal, and seemed to not be improving despite she, Tom, and Severus' best efforts.

"As if that's not bad enough, the Hogwarts Express gets blown to high hell!"

That had been absolutely terrifying, and she was truly in the debt of the young witch who had rescued both her sons (even making use of an obscure Portkey activation spell). She'd expressed her gratitude multiple times over, but it would never be enough to repay such a tremendous debt. Though it would never be enough, she'd asked Socrates to keep an eye on the girl and to let her know if she was ever in any trouble.

Closing her eyes, Lily spent the following hour continuing her psychic drills, successfully going through her Occludic decompression exercises. Finishing her nightly ablutions and her ever-growing Potions regimen, the exhausted witch tucked herself into her bed and hoped for sleep to come her way.

'Here's hoping for some bloody normalcy for once in his Merlin-forsaken castle.'

AN 1: Here's a peek into Lily Evans' history - the good, the bad, and the ugly. Per AD Book 1, Lily came from a religiously abusive household, and her experiences with that is what drove her to pursue Slytherin and shaped her into the character we know today. As long-winded as this was, there will be a few more to make future cameos, most notably the Death Eater attack of her parents & her sister, and her solo dueling against Miss Demeanor. As previously mentioned, Lily Evans is played by Sophie Skelton, one of the best fancasts for a Slytherin Lily I ever saw.

AN 2: Arcturus' whole German quips is a reference to Little Briar-Rose or Dornröschen, the inspiration/precursor to Sleeping Beauty. Their entire conversation is what I'd imagine to Slytherin not-quite enemies chatting with each other as a means to gain information from the other. While Arcturus couldn't really approve a marriage contract between Lily & Reg per the Black House Charter, it was still interesting to see him hint at it. If Lily were a halfblood, she'd probably be Lily Evans-Black, wife of Regulus Black.

AN 3: Lily apparating is a direct rip of many a fanon HP fics (inspired by actual canon) that have Harry apparating to a roof to evade Dudley and his gang of bullies.

AN 4: In case it wasn't obvious, Mrs. Figg is a plant by Tom to keep an eye on Lily since this technically wasn't the first time her parents had attempted to exorcize her.

AN 5: I made a correction to Arcturus' Consilierii status, since mathematically, he couldn't have been in his 70s if he was a member of Caractacus Flint's administration in, presumably 1875-1877).