Lily
Filthy Mudblood. Filthy Mudblood. Filthy Mudblood.
Lily felt like crying—but not over Snape. No, she wouldn't cry over him. So she cried over James instead. Or at least, she tried. That stupid git, James Potter. Why did he have to be so infuriating?
She knew Severus wasn't easy to be around. And she knew he said those horrible things all on his own. But she hated how James always targeted him. They both saw something in Snape—something different. To Lily, he was one of her first and closest ties to the wizarding world. But to James, he was just someone he wished held that place in her life for some godforsaken unknown reason.
Lily sat alone in her empty dormitory, doing nothing but replaying the scene in her head. Mudblood. What a vile word. Dirty blood. Muggle trash. For years, her friends had warned her: Snape wasn't worth it. He was just like his wannabe Death Eater friends. But she didn't want to believe them.
She had forgiven him time after time—when he ignored her, when he didn't stop his friends from tormenting her. But this? This was unforgivable.
"Lily! Snivellus is outside," Mary called, walking into the dorm. "He says he won't move unless you come out. Says he'll sleep there if he has to."
"Tell him to sod off," Lily replied, wiping away the tears that didn't quite fall.
"You should've heard Marlene. She even threw a few hexes at him for good measure, but he's still there. Didn't even draw his wand. It's a bit pathetic really," Mary said. "I suppose we can just leave him out there."
"No, it's alright. I'll go," Lily sighed. She didn't want Snape disturbing everyone all night.
She walked to the portrait hole and opened it. Severus stood there, sallow-faced and greasy-haired as ever. She stepped down, arms crossed, waiting.
"I'm sorry," Snape blurted, looking startled that she actually showed up.
"I'm not interested."
"I'm sorry!" he insisted.
Lily was tired—tired of the excuses, tired of the cycle. If sorry was all he had, it wasn't enough.
"Save your breath," she said. "I only came because Mary said you were threatening to sleep out here."
"I was—I would've," Snape stammered. "I didn't mean to call you Mudblood, it just—"
"Slipped out?" she snapped. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends understand why I even talk to you. You and your little Death Eater friends…"
She paused, hoping—just a little—that he would protest. He didn't.
"You won't even deny it," she whispered. "You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"
"I didn't mean—" he tried.
"To call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"
He stood there, silent and squirming, trying to think of the right words. But it was too late. She turned and climbed back through the portrait hole. She stomped all the way to her room, ignoring the people calling her name.
This time, the tears were real.
They were long overdue.
It was a miserable end to the year—but at least Severus Snape was finally out of her life.
James
When James arrived home, the atmosphere at Potter Manor was grim. His father looked worse than ever—sickly pale, hair grayer than black, and doing little else besides sleeping. His mother, though holding it together, was frantic with worry. Idle hands, she'd always start to say as she picked up some task from the Elves, but she'd lose her thought.
That left James alone. Bored. Restless. And uncertain.
That all changed in mid-July.
"James! James Potter!" a voice hissed urgently.
James fumbled for the mirror in his pocket—it was Sirius.
"Sirius? You alright, mate?" James asked, eyes widening.
His friend looked terrible. Blood covered his left eye, nearly swollen shut.
"No, I'm not alright. I—I need your help, Prongs. Please," Sirius said, voice cracking.
"Where are you?"
"I don't know," Sirius mumbled, he repeated himself once or twice. The mirror shook as he moved unsteadily, passing shops, then a familiar colourful cart with a cheerful man outside.
Fortescue's. The ice cream parlor.
"Diagon Alley!" James shouted. "I'm coming, Padfoot. Stay there!"
James bolted downstairs. Side-Apparition was out—his dad was bedridden and his mum couldn't leave. No Floo Powder—they'd run out last week. Broom it is.
He grabbed his broom and shot off toward London. Couldn't be that far right?
He skidded into the Leaky Cauldron, ignoring the people calling his name. He tapped the bricks, praying he remembered the pattern. It worked. He tore through the crowd, eyes scanning—
Nothing.
He pulled out the mirror. "Sirius Black!"
After a few moments his friend's head appeared.
"Flourish and Blotts. Second shelf from the back," he said, slightly less frantic and disturbed as before. James nodded, relieved and began to put the mirror away.
James turned—only to run straight into the bright eyes of Lily Evans. Her face was slightly tanned from the summer sun, freckles darting across her nose.
"You don't actually carry a hand mirror, do you?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. Her tone didn't seem argumentative, more amused. He was surprised she was even speaking to him given how things left off a few weeks ago. Maybe she couldn't resist poking fun. Either way, for once, he didn't have time for Lily Evans.
"Lily!" he exclaimed, flustered. "Let's just say it's not for my hair. I'd love to chat, but I'm in a bit of a hurry. See you!"
He restrained himself from running a hand through his hair.
She looked confused, but gave a small half wave as he ran off. His broom flying skills don't directly translate to running, but he was giving it his best go. Curse, not being able to use magic outside of school. He nearly passed the bookstore in his haste. He scrambled past each shelf, trying to remember which one.
"Down here, Prongs," came the voice.
James found Sirius hidden between shelves. He looked worse in person—too skinny, covered in cuts and bruises.
"Oi! Padfoot, what happened?" James gasped.
Sirius managed a weak grin. "Dearest mom and dad."
James hugged him, carefully. Sirius trembled in his arms. His pale skin shivered despite the heat. He saw all sorts of new cuts, yellowish bruises, shaking hands.
"We'll get you back to mine."
The two boys walked up to the front counter slowly. Unbeknownst to James, a certain red-headed girl had mad dashed after her initial shock wore off. She watched in horror at the transformation of the seemingly untouchable Sirius Black. She watched James' gentle touch and protective grip.
"Excuse me, sir?" James asked the bookshop clerk. "May we use your fireplace? My friend needs help."
The man nodded quickly. Sirius' ragged figure was easy enough evidence.
"Thank you, I'll pay you back for the powder, sir. Potter Manor!" James shouted, tossing the Floo powder. They vanished into green flame.
"MUM! COME QUICK!" James yelled, helping Sirius onto the couch.
"What is it dear? Your father really does need me," his mother said.
She looked at her frantic son with his best friend lying on their couch. "My goodness. Merlin's beard, I'll be right back!"
"What's all this ruckus?" Mr. Potter said, irritably coming out of his room.
James hadn't seen him out of bed all week, but at the moment Sirius was the more pressing issue. James' mother was working hard away at fixing up Sirius. She was using all sorts of healing spells and different potions and remedies. He had several deep gashes and new scars lining his body. And he was way too skinny, James could count his rib bones when Sirius took off his shirt.
In the spots where he wasn't black and blue, he was a sickly white. But James' mum knew what she was doing. And although he wasn't fixed, he certainly looked better an hour later.
"Oh, Sirius. I bet you're starving. Let me go whip you something up," Euphemia Potter gushed, running off to the kitchen.
"Only if it's not too much trouble," Sirius said weakly.
"What happened?" James asked at long last.
"My parents. They had enough of me. I told them exactly what I plan to do after graduation, unlike my brother," Sirius spoke rapidly, "They wouldn't let me leave my room. That's why I couldn't answer your letters, I'm sure they intercepted my owls. And that wretched house-elf only fed me every other day. Or every three, I could hardly keep track of the days. The only time I saw my lovely parents was when they decided to give me another chance to change my mind."
From his bitter tone, James could figure out what those chances led to. Those injuries didn't come from nowhere.
"I barely escaped, James. I was chained to my bed and my wand was held in a cabinet. For a month I tried to get out and I was so stupid. I was trying to learn wandless magic, because I was that desperate. But then when they left Grimmauld Place I took a chance to turn into the Grim, it got me out of the chains and...and I raced down to get my wand, Regulus saw me leaving. I tried to convince him to come with me, but he refused. He said he couldn't betray our family or his House. But he wanted me to stay. And that was off the table, so I Flooed to Diagon Alley. I couldn't think of anywhere else to go and well I'm sorry for coming unexpected and..."
Sirius rambled looking crazed. James watched Sirius' upper lip tremble and tears gather in the corners of his eyes.
"Dear boy, you haven't a thing to be sorry for. You escaped your family and stood up for what you believed in. Very brave, very brave indeed," James' father said.
He sat across the room and James had forgotten he was even there. The odd thing was that his father was smiling. James hadn't seen his father this productive in weeks. He was out of bed, talking, and smiling. The death of his friend, when it should've been him, ignited a fear response that just completely shut down his body and mind. Now, seeing James' best friend like this, it must've changed something.
"We do try, us Gryffindors."
"Standing up against family is the hardest thing, and for you to do that shows your true character," his dad explained. James wondered if his Dad was speaking from experience. James never had met his grandparents, granted they weren't alive when James was born, but still his father never spoke of them.
"They aren't my family, not my parents at least. And I'll turn seventeen real soon and I'll be able to buy a flat for myself," Sirius told them.
"What are you going to do until then?" James asked.
"I could try and find my cousin, Dromeda. I think I told you that she married a Muggleborn," Sirius said.
"Alright, but how would you pay for your flat or any of your books if you are disowned?" James questioned. He didn't think Sirius was thinking this through.
"I dunno, it'll all work out—"
"Boys! Come for lunch!" his mum yelled. They hurried into the kitchen, ready for lunch. They heard the familiar poof of floo powder coming from the living room. His mother went into the Living room to see who had dropped by.
"Where's my son!" a scratchy voice yelled furious.
"I forbid you to go near Sirius," Euphemia Potter yelled with equal rage.
"You should stay out of this, Euphemia. I wasn't happy when I learnt my son came here," Sirius' father yelled.
"I will not stay out of it. That poor boy showed up in my living room barely breathing. There isn't a chance in hell that I'm letting him leave with you!" James' mother spat.
"You're exaggerating. He just needed to be reminded of his priorities," he replied.
"I've never met a boy who had his priorities straighter! And for the love of Merlin do you think I can't recogize Unforgiveable Curses? I can't believe you'd torture him, Orion," his mother hissed.
James gripped his seat, frozen and scared. He looked over to Sirius who smiled.
"How dare you speak to me like that!" Orion Black shouted. "He is the heir to the most Noble and Ancient House of Black, I can't let him become a Blood Traitor like his cousin. Or like your sorry excuse for a pureblood family for that matter! Not even in the Sacred 28."
"Get out, Orion. Just leave."
James could almost see her piercing eyes. And only moments later, James heard another poof and Orion Black was gone as quickly as he had come. Sirius stood up from his chair and gave James' mum the biggest hug.
"You don't ever have to go back to them, I promise." Euphemia Potter said, "You can stay with us if you'd like."
"I couldn't do that to you all-"
"Rule 10, Padfoot. And I've always wanted a brother," James said.
He looked at Sirius who teared up, he knew that they had been brothers since they had shared a compartment on the first day of school, not by blood but his parents always taught him that blood didn't matter.
"And we'd love to have another son!" James' dad said gleefully from across the room.
James could definitely see his age, more prominent from his illness. Maybe Sirius could be the very thing that got his dad out of it.