ACT ONE, chapter nine :
why aren't you scared of me?
why do you care for me?
when we all fall asleep, where do we go?
ϟ
Lilium wasn't sure what to make of this.
Her fellow eleven year olds were playing games. Games. Like children or something.
She frowned at them, journal clutched tightly in her chest, feet pulled up onto the massive red sofa. The overstuffed cushions were nearly swallowing her small frame, and it was one of the most comfortable places to sit in the Gryffindor common room. She had sat here first, and for some reason, Potter had suggested that he and Ronald play their game over here. It was cleverly cruel, so now Lilium had to sit here, trying and failing to have some peace and quiet, while he and the Weasley shouted wildly over a game of Exploding Snap.
Ridiculous.
Both boys kept shooting her glances throughout the game, although with vastly contrasting expressions. Ronald was still a bit wary but Potter was... what? She was usually so good at reading people and yet... there was nothing about his expression that made sense. His eyes were bright and encouraging, his lips pulled into a genuine smile, a curious tilt to his like he was beckoning her closer.
They were getting louder and louder, as if trying to catch her attention, and when she refused to dignify them with a response, they started pestering her even more.
"Don't you want to play, Lili?"
"You'd be good at this, Lili!"
"Come join us, Lili!"
"Fine!" She finally burst, "I'll play your stupid game!"
She hated that it felt like Potter had won, somehow.
All too pleased with himself, Potter smirked smugly while Ronald divided the deck into three separate piles. She dropped herself irritatedly onto the carpet beside them, legs folded beneath herself. She wasn't quite sure how to play (because Snape's didn't play stupid games), but the rules more or less made themselves clear the longer and longer the boys played. She had an odd urge to glance over her shoulder, make sure that her father couldn't catch her, make sure her father wasn't there.
(Good news: he wasn't.)
Together, the three players leaned in close and flipped their first cards over.
Cards with Cyclops, Giant Squids, Hebridean Blacks, and other such creatures that Hagrid had taught her about were displayed.
The rules seemed simple. When she saw two identical pictures, she had to hit the card with the top of her wand, and then one point was hers. At the end, the player with the most points would win. The main struggle was, the cards kept shuffling faster and faster. And yet as they continued, Lilium realised that she was surprisingly... good at this game? She didn't have the best instincts, and she was more clumsy than she should be, but for some reason, she was sort of amazing at this.
She glanced suspiciously at Potter.
How the hell did he know that?
"Snap!" Ronald suddenly exclaimed, barely a second after Lilium and Potter each drew another.
Apparently, the rules of the game didn't agree. A burst of smoke popped from the cards of Welsh Greens, and then Ronald's face was completely covered in grey soot. Potter and Lilium both froze, leaning backward to avoid getting the same treatment.
"No, they were both Welsh Greens!" Ronald shouted, rubbing at his nose that was once again covered in dirt.
"Of course, Ron," Potter replied placatingly, a small smirk on his face.
Lilium bit hard into her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
"They were, I swear!" He whined, rubbing at the soot to clean it — but inevitably only making it worse.
Lilium bit even harder into her lip while Potter covered his mouth with his hand. But when Ronald glared fiercely at them, they just couldn't help it anymore. Their shoulders pressed as they wheezed, holding onto their aching stomachs. Potter had tricked her into playing this game, tricked her into having a good time, and tricked her into laughing. The thought made her blush stupidly.
For a moment, Lilium thought that maybe Potter belonged in Slytherin too.
ϟ
"Student out of bed! Student out of the castle!"
If Severus heard Filch say that one more time...
He was already furious, the corners of his vision tinging red. Whatever imbecilic little brat had the brilliant notion to go traipsing round the castle at all hours was going to suffer. He'd make sure of it. He had a headache brewing, and he felt it pounding against the backs of his eyelids. He felt sleep—deprived enough as it was, with his dreams and Lilium's and the genuine stress he'd been under due to Potter, the little b—stard. And now he had to deal with this.
All the Heads of House had gathered at the arch, as was necessary whenever some idiot child was attempting to leave the grounds. Now they had to wait for Albus bloody Dumbledore to join them, as if they didn't have some dunderhead currently absconding.
Pomona spoke up as soon as he appeared, "Who is it, Headmaster?"
Severus nearly rolled his eyes. Obviously a Gryffindor. It had to be a bloody Gryffindor. He had (almost) never been more unhappy to be right.
Because then Albus looked straight at him and said, "I'm afraid it's young Lilium; she's gone into the Forbidden Forest."
Severus found himself running.
He knew the others were behind him, but he didn't give a sh—t. He was going to find her, he was going to make certain not a single hair on her head had been harmed, and then he was going to wring her little neck. What did she think she was doing? Foolish child, purposefully causing trouble, willfully disobeying the rules. Those Gryffindors b—stards had a terrible influence on her.
Severus couldn't even feel the frigid air against his face when he swept past the arch and began down the steep steps. His boots threatened to slip in the mildew on the stone, but he pushed himself faster. He tore down the hillside past Hagrid's hut and broke through the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. Not for the first time, he cursed Albus Dumbledore and his blasted rules against Apparition on school grounds.
Bloody demented old men and their bloody demented values that made it impossible to do anything—
Led by Severus, the professors travelled deeper and deeper into the Forest, 'til the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. The stream was somewhere close by, but he couldn't hear the running water over the wild beat of his heart.
Finally amongst the trees, he could see her, just ahead, barefooted and in her pyjamas, taking slow measured steps through the Forest. She did not trip. She did not fall. For once in her whole bloody life, his child seemed perfectly balanced.
"Lilium?! Lilium Snape!"
"I'm coming..."
It was her voice, but she wasn't speaking to him.
"Just who the hell—?"
Severus chased the girl, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her roughly round. He wanted to shake her. Shout at her. Demand just what the f—ck the idiot girl had been thinking. But then he took a good look at his child.
Lilium stared off into nothingness, seeming thousands and thousands miles away, even though she stood but inches from him. Her eyes were wide open, unseeing, staring through everyone and everything. And for once, those eyes nearly as black as coal seemed pale — almost grey. There was something to her face; it wasn't blank, it wasn't scared. It wasn't happiness, either. She looked... enraptured, vicious and hungry.
It chilled Severus to his core.
Silently, Albus raised his wand to release a loud crack that made everyone but Severus flinch.
Even Lilium jerked like she'd been struck by lightning. She let out a strangled sound, nearly shrieking, when she woke to find a circle of faces surrounding her. Her wide frightened eyes darted round, trying desperately to figure out where she was and how she'd gotten here. When she looked back, her eyes were huge and pleading, desperate for him to explain their situation. Instead Severus unlatched his cloak, swinging it round almost elegantly, before he wrapped it round Lilium's small frame. It seemed to swallow her.
Her raspy voice was hushed, "Where... Where am I?"
"In the Forbidden Forest," Severus found himself snarling despite himself.
She nearly recoiled from him, shrinking down into herself. The plants beneath her feet began to wither and die. They turned black and faded away in the wind. It worried him. Trees swayed darkly above their heads. The air in the Forest was frigid, and their breaths came out in trembling white puffs. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above made the tears in her eyes sparkle.
Minerva gave her a stern stare, "What did you think you were doing, Miss Snape?"
"I... I dunno..."
Filius frowned, not unkindly, "And did you have any idea where you were going, Lilium?"
The girl looked at a loss, mouth opening and closing, the stubborn threat of tears in her eyes. Now she reached for Severus, her small fingers grasping onto the side of his tunic, tugging herself closer like he might hide her. She was scared, and confused, and she thought he might be able to explain it. He was furious. Because he couldn't.
Finally, Albus deemed it high—time to interject, "A simple case of sleepwalking, it would seem. Fortunately, we found you when we did, my dear."
Lilium couldn't hide her thoughts — not from Severus, not yet. She was disappointed. She had every adult in Hogwarts up at this godforsaken hour — running from their flats, storming out of the castle, raising their wands like they were about to fight, and she had the audacity to be disappointed.
Instead of screaming at her (like he wanted), he asked her very, very quietly, "What were you dreaming?"
Looking over his shoulder — deeper into the forest, she murmured, "I was... I was being called..."
His eyes narrowed, "Called by... whom?"
"My mum."
Disgust roiled in his gut, and his skin crawled at the mere idea of... He couldn't even finish the thought. Jaw tightening, Severus allowed his eyes to slowly meet the Headmaster's, and a silent conversation passed between them.
Minerva frowned — kinder now, gently wrapping an arm round the shivering girl's shoulders, "It seems to me that you need a nice big cup of hot chocolate before it's off to bed. I'll escort you back to your dormitory now, Miss Snape. Come along."
Lilium's big eyes blinked up to him — as if asking for assurance, and Severus nodded her onward. Only then did she go. Severus watched his daughter as she tripped through the trees, under the safe arm of her Head of House. And somehow, even though Minerva was still visible at her side, Lilium dissolved completely into the shadows.
ϟ
Lilium refused to tell anyone what had happened last night. It was too humiliating, too frightening. And yet she was shocked by how desperate she was to share — with Hermione, and Ronald, and Potter (strangely more than anyone). She was never one to talk more than she was forced to. Just what the hell was being a Gryffindor doing to her?
Since her walk in the woods, thoughts of her mother followed her through sleep and lingered after she woke. She could still hear that voice, calling her away, calling her into her mother's arms. She could still hear herself saying, 'This isn't real. This is a dream.' And she could still hear that high—pitched cold voice responding, 'What is real?'
It felt so real.
She could feel the professors staring at her, even more than before, like she was a problem to be fixed, an equation to be figured out. She hated it. She wanted to scream at them that nothing was wrong with her. That she could be good. She could be normal.
But how could she?
None of that was real either.
With exams coming up, Lilium and Hermione went to the library to study most days. It was also a good place to hide from prying eyes. Still, she found it rather hard to concentrate. Lilium had her nose buried in her Transfiguration book, drawing in the margins, a rather realistic sketch of a hemlock flower taking over the page. Hermione came from round the corner with a thick book in hand, but thankfully, she set it much gentler on the table than she did for the boys.
"Lili?" Her voice was soft, hesitant. "I found something."
The girl glanced up with her head cocked, "Yea? What is it?"
Hermione bit into her lip, fingers absently tracing the leather spine. "I... I was nervous to show you, in case..."
"In case... what?"
"In case I'm wrong."
Lilium rolled her eyes, "Knowing you, Hermione Granger, that doesn't seem likely."
That seemed to comfort her... friend enough for her to exhale quietly. Then, the frizzy—haired girl flicked open the book and pushed it between them. "Half the page is torn out," this seemed to upset Hermione greatly, acting like there'd been a genuine homicide. She huffed in frustration, getting back on task, "But look..."
Lilium watched with a furrowed brow when she revealed the moving picture: a group of students standing together for the camera. Hermione pointed to one face in particular.
"That's your dad. Isn't it?"
It was.
"Maybe your mum is in there somewhere too?"
In quiet awe, Lilium took in the yearbook page with wide eyes. She identified her father rather easily. Snape The Teenager was pale and thin, not smiling, hair dark and flopping beneath his chin. Beside him was a red—haired girl, laughing, looking at him with startling green almond—shaped eyes — Potter's eyes. This was his mother. They were maybe fifteen years old, staring at the camera. The other students round them were unfamiliar, but her mother had to be one of them. She had to.
"Hermione, you are a genius."
Her dorm mate blushed and smiled, pleased with herself. Meanwhile, Lilium felt unbelievably annoyed at herself. After a childhood spent at Hogwarts, and being purposefully directed to the library by Dumbledore, why hadn't she ever thought to go through the yearbooks? Ugh. How embarrassing. Biting her lip, she grabbed the corner of the torn page and ripped it out completely.
Hermione gasped in horror, "Lili, you can't just—!"
"Shh, don't give me away, 'Mione."
Madam Pince would pull Lilium's insides through her nose if she saw what she'd done. Fortunately, it didn't look like anybody else noticed as Lilium neatly folded the paper and tucked it into her sweater.
She was totally useless at the studying for exams the rest of the day. She was buzzing all through supper, practically shaking with the thrill of it all. She could barely taste the food and she couldn't concentrate on anything anyone was saying, and she didn't care. If Snape and Dumbledore were staring, let them! She didn't give a shite. Not right now. Not when she had a potential picture of her very own mother burning in her pocket.
After dinner, she dashed up to her room and eagerly prepared for a night of research.
Not even Lavender and Parvati's argument about where the latter's favourite top had gone could bother her. Poor Hermione though; she left in a huff to go study elsewhere. Kellah hadn't been far behind. All Lilium did was burrow down into her bed, pulling the blanket over her head for further privacy. Then, with a whispered 'Lumos', she allowed herself to inspect the picture.
The names on the page had been torn away, unfortunately, so she'd never find out what her name was, but it didn't matter. Just trying to see her face was enough for now. She pictured the woman from the mirror and tried to imagine her as a girl. It wasn't easy. She lightly traced her features that didn't match her father's — her full lips, her small ears, the straight line of her slight nose, trying to see if any of these matched the one of the women in the photo.
After two hours, she was fairly certain she'd found her — one row behind Snape: dark—haired, not smiling, just like Lilium. She didn't know for sure, how could she? It was enough for now. Hugging the photo close to her chest, she whispered:
"Goodnight Sev... Goodnight Mum..."
That night, when she went to sleep, she tucked the photo beneath her pillow and hoped for good dreams.
She had nightmares.
A pale face leered above her own, slithering like a snake, "I'm like you, pet. Different."
A baby with big black eyes cried — screamed — as a great pain burned through her forearm, as searing as holding her skin to a fire or the metal of a hot oven. A woman with black hair (like the girl from the photograph) held her close, cooing in her ear, smothering her cries with the palm of her hand.
Pale lips whispered into a man's ear, "A necessary evil."
Someone was crying while another was shouting, "Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra!"
Blood spurted up onto her face, hot and thick, and the scent of it was so intense that she could do nothing but weep. Bodies hit the ground with heavy thuds. Pale hands with talons for nails reached blindly for her, but they never even got close. Instead, she was surrounded by flashes of green, but none of it touched her.
"No!" A woman fell to her knees, screeching in agony, "Don't take her—!"
A small voice shrieked, "Muma!"
A face appeared but a few centimeters from her own.
"Bring it to me, bring it to me, BRING IT TO ME!"
Lilium gasped into wakefulness.
Back arching, hands fisting at sheets, she returned to the land of the living. Regrettably. Thankfully. Through muddled, blurred vision, she saw that she'd woken her Hermione, who had seemingly gone to fetch Potter and Ronald, and so now they all were hovering above her. She didn't even have it in her to be shocked by their arrival. She couldn't, not suffocating as she was. Sweating and shivering, Lilium threw off her blankets so it didn't muffle her mouth and nose, but it didn't help.
She was panting for oxygen, fingers twisting into her bedsheets. "I—I can't—,"
Potter rolled her onto her side which somehow helped air flood to her lungs as she heaved. He was staring at her with a startlingly knowing expression. Hermione rubbed her back in circular smoothing motions, stroking her sweaty hair back from her face. She thought she might vomit, saliva triggered and skin paling to the point of greenness.
"We've got to get her help."
"But who?"
Hermione bit her lip, whispering, "We could find Professor McGonagall?"
"But then we'll have to explain everything!" Ronald cried before dropping back to a whisper, "How're we gonna be able to explain this?"
Lilium buried her face deeper into her pillow, wanting to crush herself into it.
Potter frowned deeply, "We should take her to Snape."
Hermione's lips thinned but she nodded in agreement.
"Snape?! You want to take her to bloody Snape?" Outraged, Ronald couldn't believe what he was hearing. "That's insane!"
"He's her dad!"
"He's also a git!"
Potter stood taller, "We have to do what's best for Lili."
Why? Why should they care? Lilium didn't understand.
'You have to look out for yourself,' her father was always saying that. 'You have to look out for yourself because no one else will.' They hoisted her up between them, helping her out of Gryffindor Tower and into the corridor. She felt dazed, confused. The world around her was slightly twisted, distorted, dreamy — or, better put, nightmarish.
Potter and Ronald supported her nearly limp body between them, Hermione leading them down into the dungeons — casting furtive glances round the halls. The last thing they needed was to get detention at a time like this. It was clear the lads were trying to be gentle, but their journey to the dungeons made Lilium's head throb worse, and she was seriously contemplating sicking up anytime Ronald tripped on his slippers.
Lilium opened her eyes without realising she'd shut them, and from the light of the fire sconces, she could see they'd made it to the dungeons. Potter very, very tentatively knocked on Snape's office door, three times, and tapped his foot while they waited. He glanced at Lilium for a long strange moment, and when she looked his way, he twitched and his eyes darted away.
A strange thought: He understands me.
The door was violently wrenched open, and there her father angrily stood in his typical black clothes (lacking his usual overcoat). He was already wearing a scowl, and it only worsened when he caught sight of who stood before him. The snarl died on his lips, however, when his eyes narrowed in on the state of his daughter.
"Professor—," Hermione started.
Ignoring her, Snape fairly shoved Potter and Ronald off Lilium, and he gathered her quickly against his side to drag her safely in. She felt her knees going weak, and she'd have fallen if it weren't for his strong arm under her shoulders. Leaving her housemates at the door, Snape guided her towards the uncomfortable visitor's chair that stood before his desk. He immediately began looking her over.
"What happened?"
Snape's voice was soft by her ear, softer than he ever used round other students.
"I saw... I saw..."
The words were tangled up inside of Lilium, making it almost impossible to speak, so Hermione explained as best she could. Snape seemed to be ignoring her entirely, looking Lilium over, but she could tell he was listening. He ran his calloused fingers over her closed eyelids, 'cross her temples, down to her neck to feel her pulse, and then ran a Diagnostic Spell over her. When Hermione finally finished, he snapped:
"Get out."
Startled, her friends looked quickly at Lilium, as if looking for permission. Sweating and shaking, Lilium forced herself to think. It was probably best for them to leave, for their sake so they wouldn't have to suffer Snape's temper and for Snape's sake so he wouldn't have to suffer them seeing him acting sort of like a father. But... for some reason... she wanted Potter to stay (you hate him, you hate him, you—).
She just didn't get a chance to say it.
"Out!" Snape shouted.
Lilium cringed at the volume. Ronald was more than ready to scurry, but Hermione was peering back over her shoulder, expression deeply torn, not wanting to leave her. Potter, for his part, hadn't moved an inch.
Snape's dark eyes went nearly wild with his silent, stewing fury.
Lilium peeked at him, whispering, "You should go." The boy still refused to move so she added, "I'm... I'm all right, Potter. Really."
After another beat of hesitation, Potter turned and left the way the others did.
Now that they were alone, Snape's expression softened only minutely. Lilium's knuckles turned white round the armrests of the chair, trying to keep herself upright. She looked about to fall down. In the space of a breath, he'd gathered her up like she weighed nothing at all (which she really didn't weigh much). She was the smallest in her year which meant she was the smallest in the school.
Snape carried Lilium through to their flat, past the bookshelf door, and then deposited her on the leather sofa. He silently Summoned a quilt so it fell round her shoulders, and then he swiveled away, going to the wooden box on the far wall where she knew he kept many personal potions. She found herself slumping down, unable to stop the fall 'til half her face was squished into the cushion. Vision again blurred, she watched him search through his collection.
When he returned, Snape had a small vial of something blue in hand.
Bloody Potions Masters with their bloody potions.
Her lips felt numb when she murmured, "What's it?"
"What do you think it is?" That was his 'professor' voice — snide and rude, sounding strangely uneasy beneath his tense exterior.
Lilium was too shaken to be tested, her voice slow and soft, "Maybe... Ah, it's... Maybe it's a—,"
Snape took pity on her.
"A Calming Draught."
With one hand, Snape managed to pull her into an upright position, sitting so she had something to balance again. Lilium's cheek hit his shoulder and she shivered against his soft sleeve, sweat and tears wetting it. He fixed the blanket, tugging it back to her shoulders from where it had fallen round her waist.
Quietly, her father instructed, "Take slow sips and do not stop until it is finished."
She couldn't be trusted to hold the vial on her own, hands shaking too much to not spill it all over the place or even drop it on the concrete. His hands seemed massive when they wrapped round hers, pushing the cold vial against her fingertips. She tensed her wrists when he tried to raise it towards her lips.
"I—I don't... I don't want a Calming Draught, Sev."
"Do I look as though I care?"
"Do I look as though I care?" Lilium mumbled back, with a lot less venom than she could usually muster. "They... They always make me feel floaty and like I'm... I'm far away, and I feel enough of that already. I don't need—,"
"The Diagnostic revealed that there are no bodily concerns; your brain shows no signs of distress and your elevated heartbeat is still within a generally safe range. I have found nothing physically wrong, and yet your pupils are dilated, your face is white as a ghost, and you are shaking like a leaf beside me. Clearly. Something is wrong."
He was right about that.
Her heart wouldn't slow its wild sprint within her chest, and her ears ached like someone was trying to drive nails into them. She felt like her organs were too big for her body, her bones brittle and sore, and each breath was a struggle to catch. She was sluggish. Weak. So very afraid. Maybe her blood had dried inside of her. It crumbled. She almost broke into pieces right there on the sofa.
Lilium wondered if this was how dying felt.
Still, she refused to take the vial. Even in her desperately weakened state, she managed a glare at Snape, however half—hearted it was. Her father responded with nothing more than a twitch of his dark eyebrows. He knew her better than anyone. She was a person who, when confronted with an easy way out, always took the hard way. It was annoyingly... familiar.
Snape studied her stonily for another few moments before his jaw clenched and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. He spoke through his teeth, "If I provide you with three measures of jewelweed and one jobberknoll feather, will you take the d—mned potion?"
It was a good deal, actually. Snape was always making her try to buy potions ingredients off him with various chores and other such things. And she really had been wanting to get a jobberknoll feather (imagine the havoc she could wreak with it!). Still... she thought she could get a little more.
Lilium's eyes narrowed.
"Perhaps... Only if you al—also promise not to take any points from Gryffindor next class."
Snape's jaw twitched.
It seemed mad, maybe, that they were negotiating over something that would ultimately help her, but here they were. They often made deals like this during Lilium's childhood, when she was being particularly stubborn and he was trying to refrain from throttling her. Just now, Snape looked like he wanted to spit at her, but instead he gave a sharp nod and scowled hard at her.
"Are we agreed?"
"Agreed."
With their deal finalised, Lilium allowed Snape to lift her hand and helped press the vial to her lips. She drank slow, as instructed, and tried to distract herself from the sudden fuzziness of her head with the familiar flavours of the potion. The floral taste of lavender, the soothing flavour of peppermint, the rather revolting saltiness of crocodile heart...
Trying not to gag, she felt the effects rather quickly. Her colour returned, her heart slowed, and instead of feeling sluggish, she felt relaxed. Still, the world was beginning to seem farther and farther away — like she was seeing everything from thousands of feet up. Once she'd finished, she gave back the vial and eased further into the sofa.
She felt... better.
Lilium was a stubborn child, though, and she wasn't about to admit that to Snape. She mumbled, eyes over her hands, "Huh. Feels no different."
Snape didn't believe her. Dryly, he said, "Really."
Her lips quirked into some teasing half—hearted smirk, and when she peeked through her fingers, he rolled his eyes at her.
Sincerely, she whispered, "Thank you..."
Snape, however, had long been unused to people's genuine appreciation and, therefore, never seemed to know what to do with Lilium's. So he simply waved her off and for a moment, she hoped that this would be the end of it, then. But he continued to study her, though, just like the other professors did: like something broken needing to be fixed. Somehow coming from him, it felt much worse.
"They shouldn't have brought me."
"No? Granger reported you were having a fit of some kind."
"It wasn't a fit..." She argued feebly.
"Don't... lie." Snape hadn't sounded truly irritated with her 'til just now, and she knew enough to keep quiet so he could say, "It is getting worse. I've long suspected that you've been lying during the Headmaster's Inspections, and now I think it's finally confirmed."
The blood rushed down from her head, and suddenly she was right back where she started — gasping and dizzy and sweating. She would not cry again. She would not.
"Ever since you met Potter, you have been nothing but trouble."
She stuttered, "It has nothing to do with Potter—,"
"Your behaviour has become erratic and downright idiotic," his face was stark with anger and (what she thought was) worry. "And when you're not getting detentions and talking back to professors, you're not wreaking havoc around this school. First with the sleepwalking and now these nightmares—,"
His words were sharp, each ending with a knife's edge and needle—point. It poked her sternum.
"If you do not tell me, I cannot help you."
"Maybe I don't want your help!" Lilium suddenly burst to her unsteady feet, knees bumping the short table, the noise hurting her ears. "I don't want it, and I don't need it, and I'm sorry that I'm such a disappointment."
He froze, and the word was crisp, when he spat: "What?"
She very loudly scoffed, shaking her head in amused disapproval. "Don't bother denying it. I'm a disappointment to you. You're ashamed of me, and you hate me because I didn't get Sorted into Slytherin and because I'm not like your perfect Pureblood godson."
The coldness in Snape's expression warmed with horror, and he stared at her like she was a person he'd never before met. A complete stranger. His voice was hoarse and low, even as it dismissed her feelings:
"Don't be stupid."
"I'm not being stupid. You know it, I know, everyone bloody knows it! I'm a disgrace and you don't want me, just like my mum didn't want me."
His boots scuffed the floor when he approached, and when she refused to meet his eyes, he gently pinched her chin to make her look up. She glared at his eyes, those endless black pits were no longer blank and cold but angry and deeply sorrowful. She resented this reaction just as much as the other.
Very softly, with a gentleness that hurt, he murmured, "You are neither a disappointment nor a disgrace, and I do not hate you. You're not perfect, and I most certainly am not either. I am..." Here, a wince, "Flawed, Lilium, and poorly made."
Her desperate eyes searched his shadowed face, and her bottom lip was puckered in an inadvertent pout. Very quietly, she wondered, "Is that why you refuse to tell me about my mum?"
"Lilium—,"
"Why do I have to tell you everything? And you tell me nothing?!"
Her throat was full of gravel, her voice hoarse from yelling when she wasn't used to it. And now the tears did come, hard as Lilium tried to keep them back. Angry, she harshly rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She was obfuscating, fighting to avoid telling the truth, punching him with information.
Snape's voice was so quiet, but so dangerous. "What do you — expect me — to tell you?"
There. It was working.
"I expect you to tell me about the Philosopher's Stone, about that figure in the Forbidden Forest, and I expect you to tell me my mother's name!"
"F—ck's sake..." He muttered under his breath before his voice grew stern, "Lilium, enough."
"Why don't you care?!"
His eyes flashed, his breathing quickening, but she couldn't stop herself now.
"Why don't you care that she's gone and we don't know where she is and we may never see her again? Why?!"
"Because I didn't like her very much!"
Lilium felt slapped. Like he'd raised a hand to her and struck her hard across the face in a way he never had before. His anger enveloped her, she could not escape it, nothing she could do would stop it. She was overwhelmed with the need to burst into tears, and she hated herself for the words that were choked out of her.
"Then why did you have a baby with her? Why am I here?"
"An excellent question, Lilium."
The clarity of the pronouncement stopped her tears. She caught her breath. Thoughts turned heavy and slow through the humming of her brain. He'd said it out of anger but also dryly, like a clarification, like the answer was obvious. Except it wasn't. She could only gape up at her father, who did not speak, who looked just as shocked at his words as she did.
Did he mean why was she here in this room? Or did he mean why was she even alive?
In the end, maybe it added up to the same thing.
ϟ
Well, Severus thought when his daughter justifiably stormed away, F—ck.
ϟ
After her next bi—monthly Inspection with Professor Dumbledore, Lilium had herself an idea.
A dangerous, dastardly idea, and a very good one.
She had it perfectly planned out, as one should when they were committing espionage and risking expulsion.
Lilium had even reeled Seamus into her plans, even though he didn't know it exactly... I really would have made a great Slytherin, she thought with a sigh, Stupid bloody Hat. She gave the Finnegan boy a few interesting ingredients, telling him it would make a fun little potion called Felix Felicis, otherwise known as 'Liquid Luck'. Intent on making it during lunch, Seamus thought it might help him win a chess game against Ronald. Poor thing. Really, it was a disgusting mixture of Petroleum Jelly, Spleenwart, and Neem oil. It was also highly flammable.
The Headmaster and the other professors would be fairly preoccupied for at least a half hour.
(Disclaimer: Seamus would also be fine, and he would receive no punishment — it wasn't his fault things just spontaneously combusted round him.)
Anyway, it was time to enact the next step in her plan. So, after DADA class, Lilium dropped her books on her bed and tripped back down to the common room where Potter, Hermione, and Ronald were waiting for her... because apparently that was something they did now. Waiting and going to meals together. This was insanity.
So, without any other preamble, Lilium asked, "Have you ever heard of a Pensieve, Potter?"
Her... friends stopped and frowned in confusion.
"Why d'you want a thing like that?" Ronald scrunched his nose.
When Lilium didn't answer, Potter frowned, "Uh no? What is it?"
"It's a magical basin that can be used to review and store memories," Hermione explained helpfully, but her eyes didn't leave the other girl's.
Lilium nodded, "And Professor Dumbledore has one."
The trio before her were beginning to look more and more concerned. Fair enough.
Head held high, she steeled herself and announced, "If my father's shared any memories of my mother, they're sure to be there. And I was wondering... if I might borrow your cloak, Potter?"
The boy's brow furrowed, studying her for a long moment before he said, "I'll come with you."
"What?"
"You came with me to the Restricted Section, I'll go with you to Dumbledore's office."
Ronald and Hermione gaped at them with horror. "You two are mad! What if you get caught?! You'll be expelled!"
Lilium shrugged, "Could be worse."
"No, it couldn't!" Hermione cried back.
Typical Hermione.
The Snape girl huffed strongly, "I'm trying to find out who my mother is, Hermione, and if no one will tell me, I have to figure it out for myself."
Hermione couldn't argue with that. She sighed softly, still looking upset when she murmured, "All right. Just be careful. Both of you."
Lilium and Potter shared a glance and then solemnly swore.
But really, knowing those two, who could promise such a thing?
With the cloak over their heads, the pair of reckless kids began their mission. It felt much different sneaking through Hogwarts under the cloak at daytime, but it worked just as well. They very nearly bumped into Draco and his goons, but they managed to skirt by unscathed. Knowing the password to Dumbledore's office was also a major help when it came to trespassing.
Potter was impressed.
Lilium didn't like the little thrill that tingled up her spine.
Ever so slightly opening the office door, she carefully peeked round the corner. Dumbledore was nowhere in sight, and all the paintings of the previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently. For some reason, she had a terrible feeling they were going to get caught.
And yet...
"All clear," she whispered, leading them into the beautiful circular room.
When Potter dropped the cloak, Fawkes screeched happily at them, but Lilium could only briefly wave before she got down to business.
"Wow..." She'd forgotten this was likely Potter's first time in the Headmaster's office. "This is—,"
"Shh, let's go! We might not have much time,"
Potter rolled his eyes but followed her quickly to the eastern wall of the office. She opened a familiar black cabinet, avoiding her reflection in the panelled mirrors as she sorted through the hundreds of glass vials. Her finger trailed over the memories, watching strings of misty white light swirl inside.
"How d'you know which ones to choose?"
"I don't." She answered simply before seeing the unimpressed look he was giving her. She had to explain. "I'm guessing, really, choosing dates from Sev's memories round the time I would've been, well, you know, conceived..."
Both kids promptly blushed and moved on.
Gathering the memories she could, she resisted the urge to shudder. She really did not want to become a witness to the actual conception part, just... anything that helped further her research. Please Merlin, don't let me be scarred for life. Her entire childhood, she'd barely seen her father's elbows, and the thought of seeing literally anything more... She seriously might die.
Potter helped Lilium carry the vials over to the wall where they found the familiar stone basin lay there, with its odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Lilium recognised well. Then, together, they began pouring the silvery memories inside. With a touch of her wand, they swirled like clouds, or wisps of smoke, stirring beautifully within the basin.
When he looked down into it, Potter clearly expected to see the stone bottom of the basin — and saw instead an enormous dark room, from what felt like hundreds of feet below.
"How... is that even possible?"
"It's magic, Potter, do try to keep up."
He rolled his eyes at her. She rolled them right on back.
The contents of the Pensieve glowed softly, and the silvery substance had become transparent, almost like crystal. Now or never. With a shaky breath, Lilium bent so close that her head went right inside the cabinet.
"Come along, Potter." She sounded much more confident than she really felt. "Just follow my lead..."
Together, they leaned even closer 'til the tips of their nose touched the strange substance. And then Dumbledore's office gave a violent lurch, and suddenly the pair were pitching headfirst into the substance in the basin — as if being sucked through time itself. Lilium couldn't help but shriek and Potter grasped the air for her hand as they plummeted through something icy—cold and pitch black.
And then, finally, they landed on solid ground.
Lilium was trying to focus on figuring out where they were, but she could sense Potter shifting next to her, and was aware of the warmth of his skin, of the texture of his clothes, of everything about him. Stupidly, she blushed.
The boy was breathing hard and fast, and Lilium wondered carefully, "All right, Potter?"
"Yea..." He muttered, "Yea, you?"
She didn't answer, but it was all right. The boy was focused on the room round them where the other wizards (and there were at least three) didn't seem to notice their presence.
"They can't see us," she whispered.
"You don't say!" He sassed as someone — who looked like a servant (?) — walked right through him.
She rolled her eyes and took a better look at the scene.
Round them was a wide dark room made of marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and a raging fire in the hearth, but everything about this place felt freezing cold. Two men dressed in black sat by the fireplace, facing one another with one chair between. The first man was handsome with even features, jet black hair, and dark eyes, though his skin was bone—white and seemed almost waxy.
Potter arched a brow, "D'you know who that is?"
"No, I've..." For some reason, the words got caught. "I—I've never seen him before."
The second man was her father, hook—nosed and dark—haired, with intelligent eyes but with far less wrinkles. Her father couldn't be more than twenty years old in this memory. It was strange. She'd never seen any pictures of him at this age; it was sort of fascinating.
"Sev...?" Lilium whispered, resting her hand on the back of his chair.
Her father did not blink, look round at Lilium, or even move at all. He was rigid in the ornate chair, saying nothing, barely even breathing. There was something different about him, something that worried her.
A knock, and then an ebony door pushed open.
Potter stepped out of the way so they could see who entered.
In walked a tall woman with long black hair, wild and shining like she'd crystals or stars weaved in. But her face was murky, blurred out, as if someone had tampered with the memory. No matter how many times Lilium blinked, her vision refused to clear. But, she was sure that it had to be the woman from the Mirror. Her mother. And she was sure she was beautiful.
"Mum..."
"Ahhhh. Do come in, —," the name was blanked out, as if someone had muted the volume on the Muggle telly back in Spinner's End. The first man continued on as if nothing had happened, "I believe you know our potions master, Severus Snape."
The man and the woman exchanged a long look.
Then, "Of course, my Lord."
Her voice was low and rasping, much like Lilium's, and it sounded a bit like a terribly sad lullaby. She walked gracefully, black dress gliding across the floor as she approached and placed herself in a chair by the fireplace — between the Lord and Snape.
In the silence, it seemed like they were waiting for the Lord to speak.
"My dearest, in Severus — I believe I have found the perfect candidate."
A strange white smile stretched across her mum's face. Snape, for his part, remained perfectly shielded, but through the memory, Lilium could feel his confusion. And his uneasiness.
Still speaking to her mother, the Lord said, "Through your combined efforts, I will live forever."
"But we must not take chances, my Lord," there was an obvious frown in her mother's voice, "The Philosopher's Stone—,"
Lilium and Potter exchanged a sharp look.
The Lord interrupted swiftly, directing his attention elsewhere, "Severus, in the past you have been unlucky in your choice of companions. Now you must agree that there are other women, such as my dear —," the word was muffled again, "Who are far worthier of you."
"Of course, my Lord." Her father's voice was just as deep, even at twenty. "What is it you would have me do?"
The Lord's eyes locked onto Snape's with a shocking intensity. It almost scared Lilium a little. Potter brushed the back of his hand against hers; accidental or not, it comforted her somehow. Snape, however, looked completely calm, and impossible to read. Finally, the Lord's thin mouth curved into something like a smile. His eagerness was suddenly apparent; his expression almost greedy, as if he could no longer hide his excitement.
His clear and cold voice hissed, "Severus, my good and faithful servant, won't you do me one more service?"
And the scene dissolved... into something that did not fit.
Potter cocked his head, "Where's your mum in this one?"
"I dunno..." Lilium frowned, annoyed with herself. "I must've grabbed the wrong memory."
There was no woman, no Lord or whatever he was. There was only her father, quietly speaking to a tall man with long, nearly white hair, in a dark corridor in a different manor than before.
Like her, Potter was immediately put off by the blond man's obvious pretentious attitude, "Who is that?"
"That is Lucius Malfoy." She answered, irritation clear in her tone, "Draco's father."
"Makes sense. Seems 'prat' is hereditary."
Despite herself, Lilium actually giggled. Potter laughed too, cheeks a bit pink.
Her father's deep voice broke into their conversation, "I... am unsure... if I want to do this,"
"Oh come now, Severus, don't be a fool." Mister Malfoy's voice was light, almost sing—songy while he mocked, "Imagine the rewards you will reap. Besides, this option is surely far better than any alternative you've had before."
A surprising glimmer of anger flashed in Snape's black eyes before his shields raised once more. He was toneless, impassive, all with a strange curve on his lips. Was that... a smile? It certainly didn't look like one.
Potter shifted uncomfortably.
"Of course, you are correct." Snape replied flatly, "It is an honour I have been given, to provide such a service for our Lord. There will be no higher pleasure."
Lilium stumbled into Potter's side when a flash of memories passed before them, becoming almost indistinguishable, one melting into black and reforming from the expanse.
Her parents in a bedroom: her father sitting on a massive bed, buttoning up his collar while her mother stood by a window, one hand resting over a flat stomach.
"A necessary evil."
Her mum, very pregnant, with a man's pale hand resting on her rounded stomach.
"I'm like you, girl. Different."
A baby girl, with black hair and black eyes, given a name neither Lilium or Potter could hear.
"Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra!"
The Lord holding a writhing baby, chuckling loudly over her cries. Her mother stroking the infant's dark head, putting a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. Snape standing frozen across the room, not lifting a finger.
"Don't take her—!"
The memory changed one last time, forming into something frigid and dark.
Snowflakes fell like butterflies.
Snape, cloaked in black, apparated to the gates of Hogwarts with a bleeding child in his arms. He was clearly nervously, clutching the baby closer to his chest, looking nervously out into the darkness. He was worried someone was following him.
Lilium and Potter did just that, hurrying to keep up with him through the memory.
Hogwarts gleamed in the distance, and his fist pounded on the great oak door, robes whipping round him while he waited for even a sign, a hint, a miracle that someone would come to his aid. Baby Lilium stirred in his arms, and he held her tighter before banging his fist once more. Finally, the massive door slowly creaked open to reveal Dumbledore, illuminated by his wand.
"Severus."
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore looked almost nothing like he did now. Still greyed of course, but grim and frightening. The twinkling in his eyes had been smothered out, and his expression was serious.
Parts were skipped, words muffled, moments flying by.
The pair of kids stepped closer to try to hear better when Snape spoke again:
"—haven't much time."
Lilium caught her breath when she watched her father push her into the Headmaster's arms.
"What are you doing, Severus?"
"...You must provide sanctuary... She's an innocent, no matter my—my crimes..."
Crimes? What crimes? What did her father do? Lilium's heart was pounding so loud and so fierce that she was going to have a heart attack. She hadn't realised she was hyperventilating 'til Potter grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards him.
"Hey... Lili, it's all right—,"
"No, Potter... It's not..."
"Through your belly, to slow your breathing. One, two, three, four, five... Now breathe... And again."
Strangely enough, Lilium found herself following his directions. And even stranger, Potter seemed to know how to save her from suffocating. When oxygen made its way back to her brain, she found herself staring thoughtfully into his green eyes. She wanted to thank him. She wanted to tell him she appreciated him. She wanted to ignore the voice in her head that kept saying: You hate him. You hate him. You hate him.
Before she could do any of that, Dumbledore interrupted:
"Severus, do not do this."
"I've no choice..."
Snape's face was dark and anguished as he turned and disappeared into the night.
The memories came to an end, and the Pensieve nearly spat them back out. Lilium and Potter were practically thrown across the room, landing hard on their arses. Which hurt. A lot. Lilium was certain she'd been bruised, and when she struggled up to her feet, she subtly rubbed at her tailbone.
"Well. That was something." Still on the ground, Potter frowned up at her, "What does it mean?"
"I dunno..." Lilium whispered back, unable to look away from the Pensieve.
Somehow this had given her only more questions than answers:
Who was the Lord? Who was her mother? What did she have to do with the Philosopher's Stone? Why was her father making secret plans with Lucius Malfoy — of all people? Why did he abandon her to Hogwarts all on her own? What crimes did Snape commit that she needed sanctuary from?
All she knew was that she was beginning to trust her father less and less.
ϟ
In the Headmaster's office, the Snape girl got to her feet.
She took a few steps backward towards the door, pondering what she had seen in the Pensieve, eyes darting to ensure no one had caught them. Perhaps the fire in the Great Hall had worked after all. Perhaps the Headmaster wasn't going to come back early. Perhaps it was one of those times when one felt certain they'd be caught (no matter the consequences), and yet everything worked out in one's favour.
Whatever the answer, the Snape girl didn't attempt any further analysis. They'd gotten away with it and that was all that mattered. She turned, snatched onto Potter's hand, and stumbled the remainder of the steps as best she could, practically running at this point.
"Let's go, Potter."
She even allowed herself a laugh, some high—pitched, half—hysterical sound, knowing that Potter was eyeing her curiously. Eleven year old paranoia was terrifying. Eleven year old relief was thrilling.
She had gotten away with nothing.
Someone had seen her, all right.
He was just waiting for the proper moment to strike.
ϟ
Lilium was avoiding Severus. It was pure torture.
And as someone who had endured actual torture, it was unusually comparable.
His suffering was undeniably pathetic, and yet he could do nothing to change how it felt. Many of the things that used to hold his attention had lost all of interest. He found no joy in potions, chess, books, or even food. Not to mention, he'd had a roaring headache since their last unfortunate conversation.
He'd been in an even more foul mood than usual. He was snappish with his fellow professors, harsh with his Slytherins, and downright vicious to everyone else. Gryffindor had lost more than fifty points at his hand, and there seemed to be no end in sight. If anything, it seemed to just make Lilium angrier. And yet he couldn't seem to stop himself. Everyone was just so infuriating.
Had the whole world somehow gone mad in the past fortnight?
Or perhaps he had.
In any case, Lilium seemed to be making a grand effort to avoid Severus, and he was struggling to resist his efforts to do the exact opposite. After the initial indignation and terror had passed, he decided he would respect his child's wishes and stay away, but he couldn't seem to manage it. His usual strict self—control was slipping more and more every day they did not speak.
Severus never knew a way of making up with her, not in any way that counted — as words seemed insufficient and gifts were pathetic. And it was never clear who would give in first, each as stubborn as the other. Sometimes, when the silent treatment and scowls grew so furious, Minerva would determine to act as an intermediary to broker peace. But he was not about to tell the Head of Gryffindor about this particular disagreement, and if she knew what was good for her, Lilium wouldn't either.
He wanted to curse the girl in his mind for having this much power over him, but he couldn't find the malice within himself. It wasn't her fault. Most of their little... tiffs... were typically because of him and his furious temper and inability to hold back scathing remarks. And this time was no different. She'd given him cheek, no doubt, and she'd been downright disrespectful, but he had no business being so cruel. Not to her. In recent years, Severus Snape hadn't minded what others felt towards him, but he found that with her... he minded.
Now Lilium was furious with him, and Severus had no idea how to fix it.
ϟ
Exams were finally finished, but Lilium felt no relief.
She'd too much on her mind: the nightmares, the argument with Snape, the so—far—unsuccessful hunt for her mother, and now the pain coming from her Mark...
Despite all that, Lilium thought she'd managed to pass her exams with flying colours, but she'd barely been able to focus on the last half of her History of Magic exam with the burning in her arm. It hurt so much, it was hard to even move her fingers. Any movement at all felt like her arm was going to fall off. She almost wished it would, just to stop feeling like this.
Somewhere beyond the fuzziness in her ears, she heard Hermione, "—heard Hogwarts' end—of—year exams were frightful, but I've found they're rather enjoyable."
"Speak for yourself." Ronald grumbled, glancing over, "All right there, Harry?"
Lilium hadn't even noticed that Potter looked just as miserable as her. His face was scrunched into a wince as he rubbed his forehead fiercely. His scar was burning, just like her tattoo.
"It's happened before..." Hermione reminded when he said as much.
"Not like this."
Ronald shot Lilium an intense stare, "And what's happening to you, Lili? Don't tell me you have a scar that's burning, too!"
He was joking but didn't know how right he was.
"No," she said defensively, rubbing at her forearm.
"Perhaps you both should see the nurse."
"I think it's a warning. It means danger's coming." A look of realisation crossed his soft face, "Ah... Oh! Of course!"
He suddenly started walking faster, making the other three speed up to catch him.
Lilium bit her lip, still rubbing at her arm, "What's wrong with you, then?"
"It's like you said, Lili." Potter told her fiercely, eyes narrowed in thought. "It's more than a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger turned up who just happened to have one!"
She felt strangely gratified that he believed her. Obviously she was right, but it was rather nice than someone actually acknowledged it.
"I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pocket? Why didn't I see it before?!"
Minutes later, they left Hagrid's hut with a whole new problem.
Through the course of their interrogation, the half—giant had revealed that the stranger who gave him the dragon egg had more than a few questions about Fluffy, the big three—headed dog. Hagrid hadn't known any better than to answer, sharing just a bit too much. The trick with any beast was to know how to calm them, and he let it slip that if they played Fluffy a bit of music, he'd fall straight asleep. Hagrid was either incredibly helpful or a terrible secret—keeper. Probably both.
Either way, they were in for a load of trouble.
Caught in a swell of panic, the four kids burst into the Transfiguration classroom where Professor McGonagall was (thankfully) sitting resolutely behind her desk. Her head snapped up at their arrival, her trademarked brow already arching high as they sprinted over as fast as they could.
Potter was already shouting, "We have to see Professor Dumbledore! Immediately!"
"I'm afraid Professor Dumbledore is not here." McGonagall told them firmly, her frown as tight as her bun, "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately for London."
"He's gone?! Now?" The boy cried, "But, this is important!"
"Professor, please, you've got to Floo him or something," Lilium swiftly stepped forward, chest pressing against the edge of her desk, "We're worried about the Philosopher's Stone—,"
The moment the words left her mouth, it was like she'd set the place on fire. McGonagall was shocked, nearly dropping her quill as she practically gawked at her, "Lilium Snape. You must tell me this instant how you know about—,"
"Someone's going to try to steal it!" Potter interrupted desperately.
"I don't know how you three found out about the Stone, but I assure you it is perfectly well protected." That was as much as they were going to get out of McGonagall. "Now, would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly."
There wasn't much else to do but obey. Lilium had grown up under the all—seeing eye of Minerva McGonagall, and she knew there was very little else to do when she'd given an order. So, the kids sighed in defeat and meandered sadly out into the outer hallway, shoulders slumped and heads down. Lilium tucked her small hands into her sleeves, idly spinning her wand through her fingers, worrying her bottom lip.
"That was no stranger Hagrid met in the village." Potter announced after a moment, "It was Snape. Which means, he knows how to get past Fluffy."
"You don't know that," Lilium was defensive, but the doubt was clear in her voice, "I already told you that it, you know, wasn't him. Besides, Hagrid didn't see his face, but he would've recognised his voice... right?"
Potter frowned at her, but it seemed more sad than annoyed. She wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"Whoever it was," Hermione interrupted placatingly, "With Dumbledore gone—,"
"Good afternoon."
The kids froze like their blood had turned to ice in their veins. Just behind, Snape stood studying them with a frightening suspicious stare. Hot anger and frigid fear stormed through her, memories of the last time they spoke rearing to the front of her mind.
Don't be evil, don't be evil, don't be evil.
Lilium felt trapped, like a butterfly pinned to a board with something sharp or perhaps like one of those sad creatures trapped in a jar in the Potions classroom. 'Clear your mind,' she could hear her father's voice in her head, 'Let go of all emotion...' Her anger and fear filed away, her expression blanked, and she fought hard to maintain it.
Snape's suspicion didn't ebb. He crooned, "Now, what would four young Gryffindors, such as yourselves, be doing inside on a day like this?"
Everyone instantly turned to Lilium. Her father, her responsibility. She wanted to snarl at him, spit at him, yell and shout and insist he leave her alone. Instead, she had to think of an excuse, and fast... It just wasn't going very well.
"We're, uhm, we're just..."
"Yes?"
Finally, she blurted, "Sight—seeing."
Lilium barely resisted the urge to wince and then slam her head against the wall. A girl, who had spent her entire life running round these grounds, was sight—seeing. Ejit. Snape made a face, as did her companions. No one was convinced.
All the same, her father advised, "You ought to be careful. People will think you're..."
Snape caught Potter's narrowed eyes and looked at the boy so penetratingly that Lilium wouldn't have been surprised to see a hole suddenly appear in his forehead — right near that strange lightning scar.
"Up to something."
Snape eyed the boy a moment longer before he swiftly looked back at Lilium who stood as tall as she possibly could. He wanted to speak to her; she could see the debate in his eyes, the slightest twitch of his lips, the faint clench to his jaw. He wanted to say something. She wanted to say something, too. But then... he didn't. Snape swiveled smoothly away, the black fabric of his robes flaring out behind him. Only once he was out of sight did the four kids exhale heavily in a sort of relief.
"Well done," Ronald appreciated her.
"Yea." Lilium replied dryly, "Lying to my father, because that'll end well for me."
Ronald patted her shoulder with his deepest sympathies. Which, obviously, was enormously helpful.
"Now, what do we do?"
"We go down the trap door." Potter's face filled with determination, "Tonight."
"Excellent," Lilium rolled her eyes and trudged away, unable to shake the goosebumps that shivered up her spine.
ϟ
The man from the shadows, the one hidden in the Headmaster's office, he was still watching.
The Snape girl hadn't gotten away with her escapades before, and she wouldn't get away with them now. He'd been counting the days — the hours — the minutes, waiting for the proper moment to strike.
It was time. It was time to take the girl.
ϟ
It was time.
Dressed in her blackest clothes (an impressive ensemble), Lilium and Hermione sneaked out of their dormitory to meet with the boys in the common room. They had to be quick about this. If they got caught, her father would surely murder her, and there wasn't exactly a shortage of potions in the dungeons so she could imagine a variety of gory ways she would die. They were definitely going to get caught. However, all seemed well and good 'til they got caught by Neville's frog. A bloody frog. Lilium sighed to herself — they were so screwed.
Ronald hushed the frog as soon as it started to croak, "Trevor, shh! Go, you shouldn't be here!"
"Neither should you."
Lilium groaned aloud.
None other than Neville Longbottom himself suddenly appeared from behind a chair, staring at them with a deep frown. "You're sneaking out again, aren't you?"
"Now, Neville, listen. We were—,"
"No! I won't let you!" He quickly stood, fidgeting with nerves, "You'll get Gryffindor in trouble again! I—I'll fight you."
Oh—so—bravely, Neville held up his fists (his teddy bear pyjamas somewhat took away the intended effect). Unfortunately, Lilium was rather unimpressed. Unfortunately, so was Hermione when she heaved a sigh.
"Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this..." She took out her wand and recited, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Eyes wide, Neville's entire body completely froze — his arms and legs instantly snapping to his sides. He swayed and fell backwards 'til he hit the ground with a solid thud. He laid completely still; only his eyes moved, staring at them in horror. Potter and Ronald looked a little horrified too. Lilium was completely impressed. With an elegant spin, Hermione twirled her wand and tucked it safely into her belt.
Ronald gulped in awe, "You're a little scary sometimes... you know that? Brilliant, but scary."
Hermione preened.
Their quartet walked by with many variations of apologies until Lilium paused, winced, and tucked a pillow under poor Neville's head. Potter paused, glancing back at her with a crooked brow. Under his attention, she felt strangely defensive.
She shrugged and her lips puckered, "We did body freeze him; he might as well be comfortable."
He wasn't judging her, though. He looked, oddly, pleased. Unsure what to make of that, she decided to move on. Her black eyes darted nervously to where Hermione and Ronald had gone, and she stepped quickly closer to the boy across from her.
"Potter?"
"Yea?"
She hesitated for another moment, but... she couldn't help herself, "I think my mum's down there."
He stepped quickly closer, voice low and brow even lower, "What?"
"With the Stone, I mean. She's got it or she's protecting it or something. It's like my dreams; I can feel her again, calling to me — further in."
"Then we'll find her together."
Once again, Harry Potter has shocked Lilium Snape silent.
Together.
It seemed like they were always together these days.
So, the girl scurried to join the others under the Invisibility Cloak. Tragically, getting out of the Gryffindor tower was easier said than done when one had to fit four wriggling eleven years old tight together, stepping out of time and straying too far apart. It took them forever to trudge through the corridors of Hogwarts, stomping and trodding on each other's pyjamas and slippers.
When Hermione spelled the upstairs door open for them, their quartet trudged into that seventh floor room they all knew so well by now. And across the room, there laid the big three—headed dog named Fluffy... snoring.
Ronald arched his pale brows, "Wait a minute... he's..."
Lilium shook loose of the cloak, feeling it flutter off them, as she stared worriedly at the harp — playing without any help, soothing the three—headed dog into an easy slumber. That wasn't good.
"Snoring." Potter realised, "Snape's already been here."
"Allegedly," Lilium reminded softly, mostly out of habit than anything else.
The boy gave her a careful look, "Whoever it was put a spell on the harp."
Lilium sniffed in offense and led them towards the sleeping dog, ignoring its horrible breath to move its paw. Ronald wasn't exactly happy with their plan, but he more or less helped when they strained to reach the trap door. Finally, the quartet managed to push the insanely heavy paw away to reveal a deep dark tunnel leading deep into the depths of the castle.
It was then that Lilium noticed something was... off.
Meanwhile, Potter was instructing, "I'll go first. Don't follow until I give you a sign."
Over his shoulder, Lilium looked up to see Fluffy's dark eyes slowly peek open. The girl went stock—still, breath caught in her chest, her eyes as wide as black moons. Ever so slowly, she pointed a shaky finger.
"Ah..."
"If something bad happens, get yourselves out..." Suddenly Potter stopped with a frown, "Does it seem a bit... quiet to you?"
"Ah...!"
"The harp." Hermione realised, "It stopped playing."
A massively huge puddle of drool landed on Ronald's shoulder so he yelped, "Ew! Yuck!"
"Ah!"
The other three kids finally, finally followed Lilium's trembling finger to see Fluffy standing there. The massive dog growled and barked and drooled, thrashing wildly against his chain to get to them. The kids watched in horror while he crashed through the harp and dove viciously at their quartet.
"Jump!" Potter shouted at his friends, "Go!"
Hermione and Ronald practically dove through the trapdoor, but Potter didn't move, watching Lilium desperately to make sure she went safely down first.
D—mn this heroic Gryffindor bullsh—t.
Then, without a second of hesitation, Lilium twirled round, dug her hands into Potter's back, and shoved as hard as she possibly could. The boy yelped as he toppled inside, but not before he grabbed her hand and dragged her down after him. Lilium shrieked as she plummeted through the massive tunnel and landed on a tangle of mushy black ropelike vines. Her body bounced a little, like she'd landed on a sponge or some such thing, and she shook her head to clear it of the feeling of freefall. All round her, her... friends were looking just as bewildered as her.
"Whoa!" Ronald gasped, floundering through the vines, "Lucky this plant—thing is here, really."
But before they could do anything, the plant began to writhe towards them.
"Not so lucky!" She yelped.
The girl didn't have time to grab her wand 'fore the vines suddenly began wrapping tight round her legs and chest. The black plant twisted and churned and tied them up, and no matter how hard they struggled, it just kept squeezing them tighter and tighter.
"Stop moving, all of you." Hermione insisted, her voice shockingly calm amidst their panic, "This is Devil's Snare. You have to relax. If you don't, it will only kill you faster!"
"Kill us faster?!" Ronald exclaimed, "Oh, now I can relax!"
Hermione sneered at him, a tight pull at her lips.
Lilium turned sharply at Potter, hissing, "This is all your fault!"
"My fault?" His eyes were huge behind his glasses, "How is it my fault?!"
"You're the one who insisted we use the trap door!"
"And you're the one who insisted—!"
"Stop it, both of you!" Hermione interrupted in her bossiest voice, "You're not being helpful."
Lilium and Potter exchanged an irritated glance. She stuck out her tongue. He returned the gesture. Closing her rolling eyes, looking concentrated, Hermione's entire body relaxed and then she was sucked down into the vines.
Those left behind screamed in absolute terror.
Figures! Lilium finally managed to make a friend and she just happened to get sucked in by people—eating vines. Bloody brilliant. Completely panicking, Lilium and the boys began to struggle harder, but the vines only wrapped tighter and tighter round them.
"Now what are we gonna do?!"
Somewhere down below, Hermione shouted, "Just relax!"
"Hermione?" Lilium froze, trying to peer through the vines as she cried, "Hermione! Are you all right? Where the hell are you?!"
"Do what I say. Trust me."
Lilium and Potter exchanged another glance, one much more meaningful this time. They'd go it together. With a shaky breath, the girl closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly — like a witch's fingers — the vines drew her down below. The girl yelped when she dropped through the ceiling, twisting through the Devil's Snare to land hard on the ground next to Hermione. It all seemed well and good 'til a hard body collided into her from above. Harry bloody Potter.
"You landed me." She told him, outraged, "Again!"
Potter rolled off while Hermione rushed forward to help them both to their feet, checking them over while Ronald fairly lost his shite above.
Hermione tsked at the sight, "He's not relaxing, is he?
"It's clearly not a strength of his," Lilium scrunched her nose in disapproval.
Potter mused, "Apparently not."
"Hermione?" The smallest girl winced as their mate kept screaming, "Any ideas?"
"Oh! I remember reading something in Herbology."
Ronald's shouts were slowly choked out by a vine smothering his mouth.
Hermione furrowed her brow, thinking aloud in some strange sing—songy voice, "Uhm, Devil's Snare, Devil's Scare, it's deadly fun..."
The girl was bouncing slightly, trying desperately to remember the rest of the poem, glancing at Lilium and Potter for help. Unfortunately, they had no clue what the hell she was talking about.
"—But will sulk in the sun! That's it! Devil's Snare hates sunlight!" Glowing with her brilliance, Hermione flicked out her wand and aimed it up. She shouted, "Lumus Solem!"
In awe, Lilium watched a great beam of beautiful golden light burst through the vines. The Snare shrieked and recoiled, dropping Ronald fairly instantly. Thankfully, their red—haired mate was all right, just a bit shook up and more than a little embarrassed.
Standing, he panted, "Whew. Lucky we didn't panic!"
Lilium and Hermione exchanged a dubious glance. Boys.
Potter, though, seemed to share their sentiment, "Lucky Hermione pays attention in Herbology."
Lilium smirked. But the expression quickly slipped when they heard a strange sound: a scuffling, a scraping. Their quartet exchanged a glance and slowly turned towards the staircase where the sound was coming from.
Softly, she whispered, "What was that...?"
"It sounded like—,"
"It's Snape!" Ronald panicked, his expression stark with fear. "He's found us!"
Lilium bit hard into her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to make a decision. "I'll go. I'll distract him."
"Lili..." Potter stepped forward, looking worried.
Hermione quickly snatched onto her hand, just as reluctant to let her go.
"It's okay." The girl fervently whispered to her... friends, "He wouldn't hurt me."
Lilium didn't know if her father was evil. She didn't know if he was a criminal and was trying to steal the Stone and working for the Dark Lord. But if there was anything she could be absolutely certain of it was that Severus Snape would never hurt her. So, she gently tugged free of Hermione's grasp, shared one last look with Potter, and started to walk away.
"Wait, Lili!"
She turned back, finding three faces watching her with wide and worried eyes.
"Be careful." Potter bit his lip, "Okay?"
And for some stupid (obviously insane) reason, Lilium smiled. She nodded once, and then, she stepped into the darkness. She cautiously moved through the corridor, hand trailing the cold stone of the wall, trying to find her footing on the steps. It grew darker and darker the further she crept in, the sound of her heartbeat throbbing in her ears.
"Professor?" Her voice echoed quietly against the stone, "Professor Snape, it's me."
No answer but the quiet scuff of footsteps. She froze briefly, holding her breath to concentrate on the sound. The footsteps were getting closer. Perhaps she'd just have to talk a little louder?
"So I broke curfew. Again!" Her throat ached when her raspy voice rose, "You can take points if you want! Or give me a detention?"
Still, nothing.
But the footsteps grew closer.
"Professor? Where are you?" Her voice was beginning to shake, nerves creeping in. "I know we argued... Sev, I'm sorry—,"
And then the three friends left behind jumped when a scream echoed back towards the light. They exchanged a wild, panicked glance, and immediately sprinted to help their friend — not caring about the darkness or the danger. But it was too late.
Lilium was gone.
annie speaks
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AHHHH THIS CHAPTER WAS HUGE AND IT TOOK A WILD TURN! i bet y'all didn't see this happening so soon, did ya? well, quite honestly neither did i, lol! i made a last minute executive decision to combine this chapter and the next which is why it's so massive! would you believe we have only two chapters left of sorcerer's stone before we dive into chamber of secrets? y'all are in for a wild ride with this 60+ chapter monster of a story! i'm so freaking excited.
now let's discuss this chapter! OUR GIRL HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED! and boy, oh boy, what waits for her... it's not good, my dudes. besides that, lili is acting totally creepy while the other members of our golden quartet are helping her with the investigation into whoever her mum is. also, we got to see some good flashbacks about lili's origins in the pensieve — did anyone understand just WHAT snape was tasked to do??? what sort of honor was he given? god, it's going to break poor lili's heart... when she realizes, hehe.
what are you most excited about for next chapter? most nervous about? tell me all yours thoughts! xx
AHH, now let's talk about my UPCOMING DRACO MALFOY STORY. it's going to be a bit before it's posted because i'm still just starting it, but here's the gist for you:
it will be an au story from goblet of fire and onward, where harry has a younger twin sister of whom he is fiercely protective named rosie. rose looks more like lily than james which was always a source of tension with petunia who is even more vicious towards her than harry. she's a deeply shy and abused girl who is desperate for love, and one moment of weakness with her brother's arch nemesis leads to the worst possible result. how will their friends, families (godparents and parents alike), and hogwarts respond in the face of the golden girl of the gryffindors gets pregnant with the infamous slytherin draco malfoy's baby? and much worse: how will voldemort himself react?
playing for keeps starts as a complicated story of teen pregnancy and young love that turns much, much darker as voldemort's influence grows and young draco has to make difficult decisions on how best to protect his small family. whew. the story is still in early development, but would y'all be interested in reading in something like that???
finally, here's this sunday's edition of a funny thingamabob — enjoy!