❝ he and i are closer than friends, we are enemies linked together, the same sin binds us ❞ | in which lilium snape is bound to harry potter by fate, destined to stand on either side of a war that will soon be waged. she is cursed by prophecy, or so...
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ACT ONE, chapter ten : the devil's on your shoulder, strangers in your head as if you don't remember, as if you can forget
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Severus was pacing, fuming, growling.
"They are up to something. I know it, Headmaster."
Albus' office was often a place for him to vent, and it was genuinely shocking that there wasn't a path smoothed into the floor from his endless pacing. He could feel the tense static of anger in the air, knowing that Albus hadn't said a word yet, and when he glanced at him, it was with barely constrained fury. The Headmaster watched him patiently from behind his desk, wearing a placating look that made his blood boil.
"Those little miscreants have been hiding things from the start, and I know they are up to something even now—,"
Finally, his employer determined to cut in, "Really, Severus—,"
He didn't stop, "A bunch of meddlesome Gryffindors who never leave well enough alone. Lilium already confirmed to me that they know about the Philosopher's Stone, and it would not shock me in the slightest if Potter's posse has some idiotic plan to secure it."
"I sincerely doubt Lilium would go along with such a plan." The Headmaster frowned lightly, "Why don't you ask her?"
Severus' pacing halted, muscles going rigid as a new sort of pain worked through him.
Strange it was that every time she looked at him lately, he felt a wish to show Lilium that he didn't deserve the creeping distrust he now saw in her eyes, even when she was halfway smiling at him. She looked at her new Gryffindor friends in a different way — as if, together, they could protect each other from all the dark and evil in their world.
A stupid idea.
No one would be able to protect anyone from that, especially not a girl such as his Lilium.
He confessed through gritted teeth: "We are... not currently speaking at the moment."
"Oh, Severus."
The disappointment in Albus' voice was truly palpable, so fierce that it was impossible to ignore — no matter how much Severus tried. And he most certainly tried.
"She asked me about — her —again; what did you expect me to say?"
"I would've hoped for nothing; in fact, it would've been preferable. I've discovered that bitter silence is one of your better qualities."
"I wish it was one of yours," muttered Severus unhappily, still relentlessly pacing.
Albus stared at him for a miserably long time before he said oh—so—patronisingly, "Severus, you know that Lilium needs—,"
