When She Spoke (Marauders Era)

Chapter Six

There was a creak of a wooden door, and Remus stumbled into the room, dark blonde hair already tidy and uniform in perfect order. He seemed quite taken aback when he looked up to see a very untidy Sirius Black rambling on silently, in a way similar to that of a madman.

"What-", the boy began to ask, in his low, hoarse morning voice.

James rolled his eyes, "I silenced him."

"Why-"

"Later."

Remus nodded exasperatedly and went on straightening the sheets on his bed, in between Sirius and James.

"Where's Peter?", James asked as he began changing into his robes, referring to the boy that Lark often thought of as 'the plump boy'.

"Already down at breakfast, I think," Lupin scratched his head thoughtfully. "Speaking of which, what are we doing today?"

"That's what I said," James glared at Sirius, who was now staring daggers at him after realizing that he had been silenced.

"He might be a bit more helpful if you lifted the spell," Remus chuckled. Sirius grinned in triumph, still staring devilishly at James, in a way of saying, "Yeah, James. Lift the spell!"

James looked in between the two boys, waging his options. Lift the spell and have the details of that year heard once again. He cringed at the thought. Don't lift the spell and live with the guilt of magically silencing your best friend for a day for the rest of his life. It was an easy enough decision.

He shrugged, "Sirius can go a day without a voice no problem."

Remus rolled his eyes, "Very generous, you are, mate."

"Yeah," James grinned. "I really am, aren't I?"

...

Lark wasn't happy. Lark was far from happy. Lark may have even been mad. Maybe she was even frustrated? Angry? Sad? Whatever she was, it was in no way jubilant. Lark had been awoken just as the first ray of light crested over the quidditch pitch (which was a good two hours earlier than usual) by the sound of Andromeda screaming something about being 'found out'. On any normal day, she would have interrogated Andromeda about her dreams, but could care less when her sleep was in jeopardy.

After the events of the previous night, Lark was in no mood to be awoken at such an ungodly hour (not that it would have been acceptable on any other day). Right then, she sat at her usual place at the Slytherin table, between the Black sisters, diagonal from Bellatrix and across from Severus.

"That arse," Lark thought.

She glared at him menacingly. If looks were weapons, then Lark's midnight eyes would have been piercing holes in his spindly fingers which lay on the tabletop;she refused to take her eyes off them. His fingers were so long, so thin and frail, as though he had been deprived of food.

"Serves him right," she thought. Then, after a moment's thinking, she felt a sort of stab deep in her chest. There was love in her heart, and a red hot heat of hatred behind her eyes. How could one small person be so full of confusing emotion? It was coursing through her veins, roaring in her ears, melting in her chest, pressing in on her lungs and searing her skin.

It was like dying, or the way that Lark imagined it, at least. She felt it. Yet that was all it was: a feeling. It clouded her vision, shallowed her breathing and thickened her tears, yet also made her smiles more joyful and laughs more passionate. She didn't know why it was happening, who it was for, or even what it was. All she knew was that it was pure torture.

She had felt it coming for a while now, similar to the way that clouds gather before a storm, and bile rose in her throat before she was sick, ever since the burning pan in July, but had never anticipated what a tempest it would be.

"Hey," Andromeda nudged her jokingly. "Rainfall is good, but you should know that your salty tears won't replenish any flowers."

It took Lark a short while to realize that there were, in fact, tears running down the corners of her cheeks, and smiled up at Andromeda gratefully. She was right, Lark thought. Water was good, but not mixed with salt.

"Severus," Andromeda raised her eyes to the boy, who was eating his morning pancakes distractedly. "I believe that you have something to say to your best friend who has entire oceans leaking out of her eyes!"

"Yeah," he agreed, and Lark felt her heart thudding with hope, and the corner of her lips twitch in an oncoming smile. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you are such an emotional wreck."

"Oh, you little...", Andromeda's voice began in a low growl, when the screaming was only coming from the rage in her eyes. Then, as her words became more edgy and she started to rise to her feet, grabbing Severus's shirt collar in anger, the screaming reached her voice, and her words bounced around the walls of the great hall. She climbed onto the table, and stood fearsomely, gazing down at the bewildered boy.

"WHAT KIND OF SICK, BLEEPING TOADSTOOL ARE YOU!", she exploded, dark eyes gleaming.

"Er," Severus quivered, and Lark tried very hard not to laugh at what a coward he was. From behind her, the four Marauders were snickering loudly.

"Come on, Sev! She's a girl!", a shout came from the far end of the Slytherin table.

"YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?", she roared. Whoever had made the previous comment was now silent. "I thought so."

"Now, you!", Andromeda looked back down at Severus. "I do believe that you have something kind to say to Lark, who is basically dying on the inside because of you!"

"Right," he said, and lowered his gaze to Lark, whose lips were pursed and arms crossed stubbornly. Unfortunately for her, Severus saw through the mask. Just like the day that they had met, he saw the fire, hurt and pain behind her eyes. Maybe that was why Lark hated him so much, he thought. In the end, he wouldn't only be her enemy, but her weakness.

Their eyes locked, and for the first time in a while, the two truly looked at each other. Lark saw Severus. Severus saw Lark. Maybe that was why they loved each other.

They continued looking, yet no words were exchanged. If you were truly human, than you honestly couldn't blame them. As all of us humans, with our emotions and tears and smiles know: sometimes a good, honest look into somebody's eyes is better than words, which was something that Lark had learned the hard way. There was no apology in Severus's eyes; no anger in Lark's, and for a small second, they were on common ground, smiling.

But, of course, a second only lasts so long.

And then the fireworks went off.

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A/N: Yes, sorry about the short chapter, but I just wrote that last scentence, read over the previous paragraphs and thought "Gee, that would actually work really well as the end of a chapter!" That, and it technically counts as a legal cliffhanger. Don't you love my cliffies?

Jk, I know that you hate me for making you hang off of a cliff, but ease up on the hate, because I'm a frequent updater! Next chapter soon, I promise!

NO! Even better! I MAKE THE UNBREAKABLE VOW!

Peace out, padawans!

~R O S E

Ps. I solemnly swear I shall also make the next chapter much more interesting.

*cringe* Just looked at my word count... SO SHORT!!! Please stop it, guys. You're making me feel bad for giving you an awful chapter. I feel like the Grinch who stole two days before Christmas!