ACT ONE, chapter fifteen :
cannot sleep, cannot think
demons eating away at me
ϟ
While the quartet made plans, Lili had plans of her own.
She would not be going to sleep, under any circumstances.
Her sleeping patterns had never been particularly normal or even remotely healthy (nightmares and the like), but she had never actively avoided sleeping. Most often, it simply refused to come. But this time, she needed to stay awake — in case the Voice came back. Harry would sleep. She would make sure he would sleep, and he was well taken care of. But not Lili. She would be on guard, prepared, ready to hunt the Voice down the second she heard it.
She started on the weekend which seemed like as good a time as any.
One night. Two nights. Three nights.
She was going strong. She could do it. She simply had to occupy herself.
She drew in the margins of her textbooks. She organised and reorganised (and reorganised again) the clothes in her trunk, making an inventory because it seemed like a good thing to do. A good thing to keep track of, to keep her awake. Three robes, four pairs of slacks, four plaid skirts, seven shirts, two pairs of tights, one pair of black jeans, two hair ribbons, two red and gold ties, one black knit hat, one black scarf, three pairs of thick black boots...
Soon, she grew bored of this.
Desperate for any and all kinds of distraction, she turned her focus onto her assignments. She felt like Hermione, working endlessly on schoolwork to keep her mind busy.
She started exercising, like the Muggles did. Running in place. Push ups. Sit ups. Her spine bruised, turning black and blue, and she didn't stop even when it hurt. If anything, the pain helped.
She spent hours in the showers, turning her face up to the spray, letting the water run so hot that it burnt her skin a brilliant bright red.
She kept her hair loose from her plaits so she could keep hair ties on her wrists. Without fail, she continued losing them; these were the last two she had left. So, she used one to snap against the soft skin of her wrist. The sting kept her awake. Snap. Snap. Snap. This skin, too, was beginning to bruise purple and blue, but that was fine. It was a happy change to the faded black Mark a bit higher on her arm.
Still, there was no Voice to be heard.
When Monday came round, something very weird started happening.
Well, not just some—thing, many things actually.
It started in Potions class.
Paired with Hermione, it was Lili's job to collect the ingredients as she was rather an expert at finding the best of the best. But the problem was, her body wasn't cooperating. The girl stood in the storeroom and glared long and hard at her feet, forgetting what she was supposed to grab, forgetting what she was even doing in here.
'Lili? Hey Lili!'
Her head jerked upward, eyes wide in mute shock, and her jaw dropped in awe. Holy. Shite. The jars were speaking to her. Most definitely, most certainly, absolutely and totally speaking to her. The lids of the happy little glass jars were rising and falling as they said:
'Free us, Lili!'
'Let us go, Lili!'
Was anyone else seeing this? A sweat broke out on her forehead, and her back pressed painfully against the opposite shelves out of both shock and terror. Were they — the jars in the Potions classroom — the source of the Voice?! No, don't be ridiculous, Lilium, another voice in her head scolded, sounding an awful lot like Snape. Besides, these voices didn't sound remotely the same. The jars kept talking without a care in the world.
'Hey Lili, someone's watching us, Lili!'
'Lili, let's run away together!'
She opened her mouth to respond when:
"Lili!"
The girl flinched to find Hermione standing worriedly in the doorway, "What's taking so long? We're going to fall behind!"
Lili looked round and was shocked to find that she was the last one in the storeroom; everyone else must've already collected their ingredients and were starting on their potions. How long had she been standing here, listening to the jars talk?
"Uhm, yea. Right. Sorry."
Now really worried, Hermione frowned and stepped a bit closer, "Do you know what ingredients to get?"
"Yes."
Lili swiftly grabbed onto the jars of dragon liver and cowbane essence as well as a few tubes of ginger root. Holding them tight to her chest, she hurried back out of the storeroom with Hermione frowning in tow. She ignored Snape's narrow—eyed gaze (behind, behind, behind) and she tripped over to their work table, practically throwing the ingredients onto the surface. Hermione squinted suspiciously at Lili before getting to work on the instructions on the blackboard.
Lili envied her focus.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the jars jumping and talking again. At least the ginger knew how to keep quiet. Her head twitched and she dipped her face so her thick hair fell in the way of her peripherals. She would not give the jars the satisfaction of looking at them. They would just love that, wouldn't they. Smug little b—stards.
'Lili! Stop ignoring us, Lili!'
"Sh!" She hissed at the chattering jars, keeping her voice low, "Stop talking so loud!"
Their lids fluttered in annoyance with her. She groaned, rubbing a hand painfully against her forehead.
"What is wrong with you?"
Lili jumped off her stool, whirling round to find Snape watching her with an increasingly dark expression.
"N—Nothing."
Her father leaned closer, scrutinising her closely, "Are you having a fit of some kind?"
"No!"
Everyone turned to stare. Too loud, too loud, too loud.
Snape frowned deeply, his eyes raking over her from head to toe. His lips thinned and his face pinched but all he said was, "Assist your partner, Miss Snape, if you can find the time. Miss Granger has already reached Step 6 without your assistance; she will require another set of hands for the next step."
"Mmhm... Yes Sev..."
Eyes blazing, he stepped threateningly closer, "What did you call me?"
"Professor." Lili blurted, licking her lips, forgetting where they were, "I meant... Professor Snape."
Tilting his head back, Snape regarded for another terrible moment before sweeping away in obvious irritation.
Avoiding Hermione's searching eyes, Lili tried to get back to work. They had to time the next step perfectly, each cutting and putting in the ingredients in the cauldron at the same time. She wondered what would happen if it went wrong. Would the cauldron explode? Probably. That wasn't a bad idea, actually. It might get the jars to shut up. They just wouldn't stop talking!
'Lili! You look so tired, Lili!'
'You should really get some sleep, Lili!'
Her knife completely missed the ginger root and instead sliced deeply into her index finger. She flinched back, fingers curling tightly into a fist, only letting out a little gasp of pain. Immediately, blood began to fill her palm and seep through the cracks between her pale, shaking fingers.
Hermione gasp in horror, "Lili!"
Lili stared at the blood in fascination. It looked strangely... sparkly?
Blood was beautiful.
Snape appeared out of nowhere again, but this time he didn't startle her. He was yelling and barking and she registered he was more worried than angry, although he was definitely that as well. It was lucky she couldn't hear him for most of his furious tirade; either she was underwater or he was. Either way, the jars had stopped talking for now.
"—Well, Miss Snape?!" Snape's voice finally reached her through the haze, face pale and voice vicious, "What do you have to say for yourself?!"
All she had to say for herself was: "Is all that blood mine?"
Snape's eyes were narrowed and dark and... horrified.
In a much softer voice, he purred, "Miss Granger. Escort your partner to the Hospital Wing, as I suspect she may pass out before she even reaches the door."
Hermione scrambled to assist Lili, but she was fine. She really was fine. Totally, absolutely fine. Why wouldn't she be? After all, she didn't feel anything really — no pain, no fear, no exhaustion... and yet she felt Snape's eyes on her the entire way out of the room.
Madam Pomfrey healed her injury easily, and provided her with a bit of scar cream to ensure she didn't have another scar marring her skin. As if it mattered now. Lili tried to hurry away but the mediwitch took one look at her and immediately began attacking her with questions. Are you coming down with something? Are you feeling ill? Have you been eating enough? You truly are too thin! What time do you go to sleep? Have you been sleeping enough? You really do look exhausted!
Lili fled the first moment Madam Pomfrey's back was turned.
ϟ
It was a long night of wakefulness.
Pacing, pacing, pacing, Lili watched the other girls sleep with deep envy, wishing she was anywhere and anyone else.
At breakfast the next day, everyone else was normal.
Totally, completely normal.
Harry picked at a slice of buttered toast while amusedly watching the disgusted looks Hermione shot Ron who was more than happily stuffing three hash browns into his mouth at once. It was almost impressive. Lili, for her part, was totally, completely un—normal. Abnormal, if you will. She glared at the food on her plate like it had wronged her somehow. Because it had. She was certain it had. They were going to snitch on her, she just knew it!
It was only then that she realised Hermione was talking, her words spoken through cotton or clouds or... something.
"What?"
Lightly, Hermione pushed her plate closer, "You should eat, Lili."
The black—haired girl looked back down at her plate, and then... the rashers blinked at her.
What. The. Hell.
Lili froze with her breath caught in her frigid lungs. She rubbed her tired, blurry eyes roughly before looking again. The rasher was crispy and greasy and absolutely still. She stared at the food. The food stared back. It had blinked at her, with its oily eyes — she was sure of it!
"Are you... magical?" She whispered to the rasher of bacon.
Rudely, the bacon refused to answer. The audacity! Lili frowned very suspiciously and poked it harshly. Nothing happened. So, she started poking at the other food on her plate as well — the hash browns, the toast, the fruit. One of them had to know something, yea? Food didn't just blink!
"One of you better start talking," she whispered as she rather viciously stabbed at her eggs with a fork.
"—Lili?"
The girl jerked up to find her friends gazing at her with wide confused eyes.
Harry stared at her — deep and intensely, in a way that made her stomach hurt, "I said... I just said: are you all right, Lili?"
Lie, lie, lie.
"Mm? Oh. Yea, 'course, more than all right. Grand, actually."
Hermione said, "You look tired."
Lili tensed, eyes sliding to her best friend who looked a bit like she did when studying something particularly strange — a bit confused, perhaps, but determined to solve the puzzle before her. Lili really didn't want to be her new mystery of choice.
"I didn't sleep well," she murmured. Not totally a lie.
Hermione frowned and leaned closer, "You know that's not what I mean, Lili. Are you—?"
"I'm grand," she interrupted, repeating herself, and even to her ears, it sounded like a lie.
Hermione apparently hadn't the heart to push the issue, but she could tell her friend truly wanted to. Clearly unhappy, the wild—haired girl said nothing more and didn't fight her on it.
In DADA, something else very, very strange started happening.
In the midst of another one of Lockhart's unhelpful lectures, Lili started to hear something. It wasn't the Voice... It was... flashes. Visions. Hallucinations — auditory and visual. Simply dreaming while awake, she was sure of it. It wasn't memories, so it could be nothing else. She held very still and refused to allow herself to blink, convinced that would only make it worse. All she could do, she reasoned while gripping onto the edge of her desk, was hold on and wait for it to be over.
In the Forbidden Forest, she was leading a boy by the hand — Harry, much, much older.
"Isn't that the saddest thing you've ever heard?"
Lili's own obsidian eyes, the reflection of the full moon shining bright.
"Delphi, my sweetness..."
Lili herself, on her knees before a blurry—faced man, and kissing the edge of his robes.
"Do not fear the prophecy. Defy it, and make your own hell."
A massive snake slithering towards her, fangs aimed for her throat.
Again and again, the same question: "Together?"
And again and again, the answering call: "Always."
Lili jolted back to reality with a soft gasp, knuckles whitened from her grip on the desk.
She was terrified, no, horrified. Had that been a dream? Had she slept? No. No, she couldn't have! She wouldn't have! People had to sleep — normal people, but Lili wasn't normal and she never would be. So, Lili couldn't, Lili wouldn't sleep.
"No, no, not me," she whispered under her breath, sounding desperate and insane, "I wasn't, I was. Was I?"
Her vision blurred.
And yet, there was still no Voice.
It was only 11:00 in the morning, and she already wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep, but she knew that this would defeat the whole point. She messed up a potion for Fred and George. They were good about it, of course, but it was humiliating. Since when did Lilium Snape get a potion wrong?
Potions were practically her brand.
Then, she didn't even have it in her to feel indignant when Snape gave Harry detention again.
Harry attended plenty of Snape's detentions, and she was always indignant — in a way she certainly wasn't when they first met. He'd written lines, scrubbed cauldrons, and pickled disgusting ingredients. And every time, Lili had been outraged. But... she was just so tired. She could only protect Harry from so much. The Voice? Yes. Her father? Not so much.
She was a candle burning at both ends.
Lili wondered how long it would take before she was snuffed out.
ϟ
Day five.
Lili did not remember much of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, despite the fact that it was very eventful. Smirking Malfoy's and wincing Snape's and wild Harry's and rogue bludgers and the like. She could barely focus, her eyes open but her vision fading to black every few seconds.
The bags beneath her eyes were grey and heavy, and her hands had a permanent tremble. Her head felt swirly, like a storm was brewing within her brain — no matter how beautiful a day it was outside. She felt hot and cold in vicious flashes, going from sweating to shivering, her clothes either too thick or not thick enough. The sun was so painfully bright, and the light made everything hazy. No. Not so much hazy as... warped. Things shifted and contorted and stretched, the crowd and the sport before her rippling wildly in front of her eyes.
It was beginning to make her feel nauseous.
Lili was fairly certain that she'd blacked out for a little, but she was distantly aware of the rogue bludger trying to take Harry's head off before breaking his arm... but he did catch the snitch, of course, and he was safe only once Hermione blew the bludger up. Which happened to be the only helpful thing anyone would do in the next half hour.
Instead of fixing his broken bone, Lockhart completely dissolved the bone from Harry's arm.
Like a massive ejit.
Lili found herself standing nervously at the foot of Harry's cot in the Hospital Wing, biting into her thumbnail, bouncing her knee, tapping her foot. She didn't think she was hiding her concern very well. She was pretty sure Harry saw it immediately. After properly spraying the rest of their friends in Skele—Gro potion, the green—eyed boy gave her a small reassuring smile.
It did very little to comfort her.
Even that night, when all the other girls were burrowing into their beds and preparing for sleep, Lili couldn't stop fretting about it. She sat criss—crossed on top of her blankets and glared at her pillow like it had offended her somehow. She fidgeted with the loose ends of her damp hair, knees still bouncing, the grey bags getting even heavier under her eyes.
Over the quieting voices of their dorm mates, Lili quickly looked at her best friend, "D'you think Harry's all right?"
"Of course! Madam Pomfrey will have the bone grown back straight away." Hermione reassured, yawning and dropping back on her pillow. Then she stopped, cocked her head, and gave Lili a peculiar look, "You're worried about him... aren't you?"
"No." Lili quickly turned away, "Definitely not."
She definitely was.
And she was definitely sure it had something to do with the Voice... somehow.
Hours passed too slow. Too slow, too slow, too slow, and Lili's mind was moving too fast. She wanted to fall asleep too fast. For the lack of a better idea, Lili decided to go hunt for the Voice herself. She wandered the corridors, fingers trailing the walls, feet tripping and staggering and stumbling over the flat ground. The portraits were staring at her, whispering amongst one another, gazing in concern. She ignored them.
"Where are you?" She asked aloud, voice low and trembling, "W—Where are you?"
She was near tears, gasping and panting and almost falling asleep standing up. She turned the corner and walked face first into a chest of rich and colourful fabric. Gilderoy Lockhart. Grand. Her cheeks flushed bright pink and, stupidly, she wondered if she was still pretty with bags under her eyes.
"You are out after curfew, Miss Snape." Lockhart waggled his finger at her, smiling, "Naughty."
Lili blinked, wondering why it felt like she was floating.
"Shall I escort you back to Gryffindor Tower, Lilium?"
"Uhm."
The girl stared at him for a long and confusing moment. Finally, she opened her mouth to respond, but then she couldn't remember at all what they had even been talking about in the first place. It didn't matter; he didn't seem to wait for further response. He took her hand, intertwining their fingers in a way that felt foreign and far too intimate.
Lili tripped over her dragon slippers, and she had to keep her eyes on her feet to make sure she stayed moving. She wasn't sure how long they had walked when:
"Professor Lockhart."
The girl froze, deep and foreboding dread breaking through her numbness. She recognised that voice; that soft, velvety purr. It sounded dangerous. When she looked up, she found her father standing there in his thick robes and his wand held with a faint glow at its tip. Snape's dark eyes trailed down their arms and landed on their intertwined hands. Something stark and violent shuddered across her father's face.
"Ah, Severus." Lockhart replied breezily, smiling at the man, "I was escorting your daughter back to her dormitory; it seems she got a bit lost."
"Lost." Her father drawled wryly, "In a castle she has lived in for eleven years."
She couldn't figure out if the tone was directed at Lockhart or Lili herself.
In any case, Lockhart didn't seem to sense the danger, "Where've you come from?"
"Hospital Wing." Snape said, stepping ever closer, "Another student has been Petrified."
Lili opened and closed her mouth, wanting to ask who it was, if Harry was all right, and what the hell were the supposedly 'capable' adults going to do about all this. But the words died on her tongue that suddenly felt made of lead. Why wouldn't her tongue move?
"Well, it's such a shame I wasn't—,"
She didn't catch the rest of what Lockhart was saying.
In fact, she didn't catch Snape's response to that either.
Ah shite.
Their mouths were moving but... nothing. No sound. Not a single word. Lili couldn't even hear them anymore. That had to be a bad sign. How many days had it been since she slept? Four, seven, ten? Too many days, she thought wildly, That's way too many days. And how the hell was she going to track down the Voice if she couldn't even hear properly?!
Finally, a voice broke into her haze:
"—will escort Miss Snape to her dormitory myself."
It was Snape who spoke, and somehow she'd found herself by his side instead of Lockhart's in the past few minutes. Strange. So, so strange. But before they left, Snape stopped, grabbed Lockhart's arm, and leant in close to his ear. He murmured something too low for Lili to hear that clearly startled the man. He pulled away to blurt in outrage.
"Now, Severus—!"
Her father only tightened his grip on the man's arm and yanked him closer to hiss something else. Lili watched dreamily while Lockhart's face paled to the colour of milk. She had no time to wonder what had been said before Snape grasped her arm and fairly yanked her in the direction of the Tower. She tripped over her slippers to keep up with his long strides, seeing as he was way taller and his legs were far longer. He didn't speak their entire walk, but Lili could feel his angry words like a physical presence between them. By the time they made it to the Fat Lady's portrait, she was anticipating a verbal explosion.
She was not disappointed.
Snape suddenly snarled, "What the f—ck were you thinking?"
Lili cocked her head. He didn't often swear at her. He swore round her, yea, sometimes, but that was simply because he was more comfortable round her than anyone else. Most times, he was posh and controlled and refused to show much emotion beyond random bursts of rage. But the swearing was a habit he couldn't break from his childhood, a time before he lost his Black Country accent. Of course he never allowed her to do the same; he wanted to forge her into a better image than his own.
Therefore, it was strange to hear it directed at her now.
Blandly, she asked, "What did you say to him?"
He scowled at her but said nothing for the longest time. And then, in some cold and detached voice, he said, "Detention, I think, Lilium. Tomorrow night, if you please."
Then Snape was gone.
Well then.
Well, that certainly soured her good mood for the night, not that there was much of one in the first place. Though... perhaps, in a way, a detention tomorrow evening wouldn't be so terrible. At least it ensured that she couldn't lose herself to sleep. After all, the longer she went without sleeping, the longer she could listen for the Voice.
Where the hell are you?
Clumsily, Lili passed through the portrait of the Fat Lady and stumbled into the circular common room. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House had gone to sleep, apart from one familiar boy lounging back on one of the many squashy armchairs. Lili blinked at the sight of Harry.
"You escaped the Hospital Wing?"
"Yea."
"Why?"
The bespeckled boy offered her a tired, crooked smile, "Wanted to make sure you were okay."
Her cheeks flushed pink. She blamed the sleep deprivation. Quickly, to distract herself, she tripped to his side and dropped onto the smushy sofa at his side. Exhaustion swallowed her up, all her limbs suddenly lead and her head full of cotton. If she allowed herself, she thought she could sleep here for a thousand years.
"So." Harry blinked. "Are you... okay?"
"I should be asking you that," she reminded.
"Well, I'm fine." He displayed his arm, a bit less floppy than before. "My bone's still growing back, though."
She winced, and so did he. Skele—Gro was no joke.
"Ouch."
"Yea, you're telling me..." He hesitated and glanced at her out the corner of his eye, "You look pale, Lili. And you were yawning all through Charms yesterday, and you were barely focusing during the match..." She shot him a Look at that, and he snorted, "All right, all right, that's not anything particularly new, I admit. Are you sleeping okay?"
Lili rolled her eyes, voice cold and dismissive. "I'm fine, Harry. Just tired. I've been studying, you know, quite a lot. One of us has to keep up with Hermione."
That was mostly a lie, told through her pretty teeth, but it might help keep him off her back. She could sense he didn't believe her, but mercifully, he dropped it. He knew her too well, and when the hell had that happened?
"Saved this for you. Thought we could share?"
Harry handed over a sweet, and, curious, Lili's fingers brushed his when she took half of the sticky treat. Upon inspection, she immediately attempted to hand it back.
"Nuh—uh. I know treacle tart's your favourite; you shouldn't be sharing whatever you've got left. You really ought to be more selfish, Harry."
"Kettle, meet Pot." Harry arched a pointed brow, making her snort and roll her eyes. He continued, "Anyway, Missus Weasley sent it to me, don't worry. I'm sure we can get more sometime."
Lili sighed but relented. Strange. A year ago, she would've suspiciously demanded an explanation or flat—out refused his offering, simply out of principle. Now, though, she thought she understood Harry enough to understand why he was sharing the sweet. He was being kind — no strings attached. How odd. For a while, they sat in companionable silence, staring at the fire, eating their treat and licking their fingers of the leftover syrup.
Eventually, Harry glanced over with a face scrunched with sympathy, "Was that Snape shouting just now?"
"Yea."
"Git."
The Snape girl sighed but didn't deny this fact. Instead, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, grouching, "He lost his shite because he found Lockhart walking me back to the Tower."
Harry paused. "Lockhart walked you back?"
Something about his tone set her teeth on edge, shoulders creeping up towards her ears. She was only distantly aware that she was talking too fast when she said, "I know he's an ejit, Harry, all right? It's not like I pay any more attention in his classes than you do, it's fine."
"It's not just that, it's... I think... I think there's something he wants from you."
Stupidly, sleep—deprived, Lili felt defensive. Her crossed arms grew tighter, "What're you talking about?"
Harry huffed in annoyance, "There's just something in the way he talks to you and—,"
"What?" She snapped meanly, "Don't like that you have to share the spotlight?"
Lili regretted it immediately, the very second the words left her lips. That was wildly unfair and they both knew it. She could see the red building in his cheeks. Harry Potter had a bloody temper, and he had a stubborn streak that outshone almost all others, but you know, so did Lilium Snape.
"You know I hate that, Lili!" He was very nearly shouting now, green eyes blazing behind his glasses. "You know d—mn well that I hate the spotlight!"
He did. No matter what her father believed, no matter what anyone said, Harry did not relish in his fame. Honestly, what the hell was she doing? She was supposed to be protecting him; not picking a fight with him. Bloody hell.
"I know. I'm..." The word tasted like vinegar, like the worst potion she'd ever tasted. She squeezed her eyes shut and said it anyway, "Sorry."
Harry deflated, his anger seeping out of him just as quickly as hers, "I... I just know what it looks like when a kid's in danger, all right? And I don't like the way he looks at you."
"Why?" Lili whispered weakly, exhaustion loosening her tongue, "Because he's the only person to actually think I'm pretty?"
They were both shocked. She hadn't told anyone the professor had said that. In fact, she'd forgotten all about it... Except, no, she hadn't. She'd thought about it. A lot. Pretty. What would it be like to believe you were pretty? Fantastic, she imagined.
Harry's face was like solid stone, cheeks still flushed and angry. "Lockhart said that you, a twelve year old, were pretty?"
"It's really not your business, Harry."
Exasperated, Harry exclaimed, "I'm just trying to look out for you!"
"I can take care of myself!" Lili argued back, shocked at the tears biting at her weary eyes.
"I'm not saying you can't! But you don't have to, all the time. We're in this together. Right?"
The fight left her immediately. She was just so tired. So d—mn tired.
"Right..."
There wasn't much else to say. Slowly, the two kids backed away from one another, shuffled over to the other side of the room, and beyond that, to the spiral staircases leading to their opposite dormitories.
"And Lili?" Harry's voice stopped her, and when she glanced back, his expression was impossible for her to understand. "He's not the only one to think you're pretty, but you're more than just 'pretty'. I figured you knew."
Harry Potter then turned and marched up the steps to his own dormitory without another word.
Tonight, tears would be a good enough distraction to keep from sleeping.
ϟ
Detentions were the worst, Lili had decided.
The girl scrubbed furiously at the cauldrons, up to her elbows in suds and refuse, arms working on autopilot. Her shoulders ached from hunching, her stomach was churning, and her foot was tapping with a strange tempo; entire body feeling overcome with pins and needles, jittery and strange. She needed to run. She needed to scream. She really just needed to sleep.
Hair was slipping out of her plaits and the sleeves of black jumper were soaked, clinging uncomfortably to her chilly skin. Even in just her father's presence, she refused to push her sleeves up. She didn't want either of them to see her Mark; it was as if she refused to acknowledge it, then it would simply cease to exist. The thought of her Mark just made her angrier.
There was so much to be angry about. Mercifully, it hadn't been Hermione or Ron most recently Petrified. It was Colin Creevey, poor little Colin who was weirdly obsessed with Harry and his Muggle camera. It just proved her point that someone needed to be out there, preferably someone who actually heard the Voice. Why give her detention for actually trying to do something about it?
Lili couldn't help sending Snape dark looks every few minutes, but if he noticed, he certainly didn't show it. He kept his head turned down while he worked at his desk, grading viciously with the red ink of his quill. It looked like blood in a massacre. She just hoped it wasn't the Second Year essays. Really, it was a miracle it was only Lili in here tonight; her father loved giving detentions to Gryffindors, it didn't matter to who or for what. Her teeth ground painfully and her knuckles scrapped even more painfully against the pewter of the cauldron, stewing in her frustration 'til she couldn't stand it anymore.
"Do you find some sort of sick pleasure in assigning detentions, or what?"
Snape blinked and looked up at her, "I beg your pardon?"
"What is the point of this?" Lili snapped bitterly, wet hands extending at her sides. "Are you trying to make me sorry?"
His black eyes narrowed dangerously, "I am trying to make you understand the consequences of your newly developed habit for reckless decisions."
"I do understand the consequences!" She hissed, "The consequence is my friends getting hurt, possibly killed!"
Snape sneered nastily, "And what does breaking curfew and wandering the castle corridors at night have to do with this apparent mortal danger your favourite Gryffindor dunderheads have found themselves in?"
"It's not just us 'Gryffindor dunderheads' in danger," she repeated, watching his eyes blaze. Satisfied, she went on, "I'm trying to do what none of you so—called 'adults' are willing to do! The professors keep promising that everything is fine and everyone is safe, and yet more and more students are getting Petrified! I'm not going to let that happen to my friends."
His expression twisted with disgust, "So this is about Potter."
"Yes, it is about Potter!" She insisted indignantly, "And it's about Hermione and Ron and Draco and everyone else, too!"
Snape dropped his hands onto his desk to shove himself to his feet, "Ah, but what it should really be about is you risking your life, you foolish girl!"
"And why does my life matter to you anymore than anyone else does?"
"Because you are my child!"
Sleeplessness had loosened her tongue and her mind. She found herself willing to say anything, and she d—mned the consequences. Maybe she really was reckless, like Snape said.
"We're all children! How can you keep forgetting that? You shower Draco in constant praises, you ignore how useless Parkinson is at Potions, you even compliment those ejits — Crabbe and Goyle just because they're in Slytherin House! But you refuse to give any credit to Hermione, who's brilliant and has been desperate for your approval since the beginning!"
Snape raised a hand to silence her, but Lili ignored it.
"It's impossible for Neville to show any kind of promise at Potions with you breathing down his neck all the time, and don't even get me started on Harry—,"
"Stop."
"It's not Harry's fault that you hate him, how is yelling and antagonising and giving detention going to make anything better? And why do you hate him so much, anyway? What did he do to you?"
Snape roared, "Enough!"
Though her mouth snapped shut, Lili raised her chin defiantly. Her hands trembled as she tried to battle down her anger. It was no use. The jars round the room, on the tables and on the walls, they shook for only a moment before exploding into tiny pieces of glass shrapnel, shooting through the room and showering the floor. Neither Snape reacted; they only glowered at one another.
Through his teeth, her father sneered, "I do not need a twelve year old schoolgirl to instruct me how to manage my own classroom."
"Well, someone needs to. I'm not hesitant, Father. My heart's in it and I'm not holding back. I would've thought you'd be happy with my progress."
"Do not test me, girl," he growled.
"Then do not ignore me!" She snapped back.
"Ignore me, what?"
Now, Lili was confused. Her nose scrunched and she huffed, "Pardon?"
"'Then do not ignore me...' what?" Snape prowled closer, voice low and dangerous, "You ought to recall that I am not merely your professor."
"Fine. Do not ignore me, sir. Do you promise that you'll protect everyone — even those 'Gryffindors dunderheads' you hate so much, people like myself and my friends?"
She'd meant it as a challenge, an accusation, an insult even, and yet he stared at her long and hard before murmuring, "I made a vow."
Lili blinked.
Something about his words made a chill shiver up her spine.
Snape didn't explain more, but he didn't have to. He knew she meant more than just in his classroom but in this school with the dangers round every corner — with the Voice and the Petrifications and the rumours. True, she resented the knowledge that she was getting off easy for the things she'd said and done; any other student would've probably been threatened with expulsion or worse. But because of this, she knew that she had to trust him. He had not lied to her before. Whatever his vow was, he would uphold it.
And maybe... just maybe... Lili could finally get some sleep.
With the detention mercifully over, the girl spun round to leave far too fast. Because suddenly her vision was black, and when she came to once more, she was falling forward. Her sluggish feet tried to jerk into action so she stumbled and barely managed to catch herself on a nearby desk before she hit the ground. She instantly felt Snape hovering over her shoulder, his glower burning the back of her neck.
"What is it? What's wrong with you?"
A lot. A lot was wrong with her.
Spots were flickering in her eyes, vision blackening and tunnelling and fading in and out. Her head spun and her hands tingled and her feet were like anvils. Eyeing the door, she tried once more. She didn't make it. Lili careened backward, arms flailing to balance herself, and Snape dove forward to catch her. She felt a hand close round her elbow and she furiously shook it off, using the desks to drag herself towards the exit. But, suddenly, the door slammed shut and she heard the familiar shnick of the lock.
Snape had spelled it shut.
"Unlock the door," she demanded with a heavy tongue, fear and exhaustion clinging to her limbs.
"No. Tell me."
"I'm fine... I'm fine, if you keep your vow."
Silence for a few beats. It had been a terrible, awful week, and yet confessing this felt like giving in — to the Voice and to her own weakness. And she wasn't going to give in. Not when she knew the truth. That something was very wrong with her, and despite this, Snape would protect children like her, even Gryffindors.
"Lilium—,"
"Please unlock the door," she whispered.
The door clicked open, and Lili left without looking back.
ϟ
The Snape's were having another one of their weekly dinners.
Lili was in a mood.
And she had been for a few days now. The sleep—deprivation certainly wasn't helping. True, with the security of Snape's promise, she'd finally been trying to get some sleep again, but it was as if, as soon as she'd given herself permission, her body refused to comply. The most sleep she could manage was two or three hours, for the past two nights.
It had made her... 'crabby', as Ron put it.
The red—haired b—stard.
Lili crushed her cheek against her fist and glared at her food as if it had personally wronged her. She didn't bother to even read or sketch or do much of anything tonight. Sev arched his brow at her, peering at her from over the top of his newspaper but saying nothing. As if to annoy him even further, she stabbed furiously at her pile of veg, shoving in a whole green bean without bothering to cut it in half. Sev grimaced and looked about to scold her but then soon gave up. Clearly, he saw she was not in the mood for comments on her table manners.
They hadn't spoken since her detention last week, and things were more tense than ever. He ignored her during classes, and she ignored him during meals. He made no comments on her potions and she went the opposite way when she saw him coming in the halls. True, Lili was still angry with him, but she wished she could call an end to their hostilities. The silent treatment could really be exhausting after a while.
Sev finally heaved a sigh and dropped his fork back onto his plate with a clang, "I cannot bear it any longer. Do tell me what's wrong, Lilium, or cease playing with your food at once."
"Nothing's wrong," she grumbled.
He rolled his eyes. "Then — stop — playing — with — your — food."
Eyes narrowed, she made sure to keep her gaze locked with his when she crammed her next huge bite into her mouth. His own eyes narrowed and his lips pinched, but he looked back at his newspaper, refusing to dignify her attitude with a response. So, she drifted back into misery and kept trying to force herself to eat.
Really, how dare Harry! He'd such a strange reaction to Lockhart, when honestly, what did he know about it? He said he was looking out for her when she was the one who was looking out for him! And then he'd... he'd... Had he called her 'pretty'? No, more than pretty. Was that right? None of it made sense.
Finally, Lili blurted, "Boys are weird."
The words were out before she meant to speak them.
Sev slowly raised his head from the newspaper, his cheeks a bit pink and his eyes a bit wider, "We're... doing this now?"
"No!" Her cheeks flushed just as pink.
He looked extremely uncomfortable, and fair enough. She was desperately trying to save this conversation as well as actually get some information.
"It's just... you're a boy." He arched a brow and she flushed deeper still, "I mean, you were! Now you're a man, and— ah—, shite, nevermind."
"Thank Merlin," he muttered under his breath, shifting uneasily in his seat. Then he suddenly looked up at her with an expression that looked genuinely pleading, "Please. Tell me it is not Potter that has driven you to such questions. Or Morgana forbid, Weasley."
Lili groaned as an answer, dropping her face into her hands.
Sev seemed fine enough with not having an actual response.
They poked at their food, each avoiding one another's gaze.
After what felt like an eternity later, Sev suddenly decided to add, "You are too young to be so distracted by such things, Lilium. Besides that, you've got a far too cunning mind to have it filled with inane thoughts of foolish little boys. If you heed my advice, you'll avoid such attachments until your dying day. It'll save you much pain and frustration."
To anyone else, his words might seem detached and indifferent, but she could sense something painful deep within him. Something in his past had hurt him. Was it... about her mum? She couldn't be sure. Being with someone had hurt him, but he didn't look much happier being alone. When Lili thought about a future like that, she wondered if the pain and frustration was worth it if it meant she wasn't alone forever...
"But don't you get tired of having nobody?"
Sev's stern brow furrowed at her, and she felt a hot flicker of anger in the air between them.
"I mean it!" She insisted almost desperately, "Honest! I'm not trying to Slytherin anything out of you."
"'Slytherin' is not a verb, you ridiculous girl."
She rolled her big eyes and she continued, "You know what I mean. No trickery or scheming. It's not even about my mum or anybody else for that matter. It's just... don't you ever worry about being alone?"
Something very complicated yet incredulous came across her father's face as if he thought the answer had been obvious, even if she had no idea what it could possibly be. Finally, then, Sev replied:
"I'm not alone. I have you."
Slowly, Lili smiled and went back to her dinner.
It was the closest to an apology either of them would ever get.
ϟ
Boys.
His Lilium — mature, reticent, brilliant Lilium — had talked about boys.
In the wake of the conversation with his daughter, Severus felt the need to spontaneously combust.
The Snape man had an intense desire to lock his child within the deepest depths of the dungeons and refuse to ever let her out again. This was the moment that he had feared, since he realised that he alone would raise a child — a girl child, at that. Over the past summer, Severus had the misfortune of giving his daughter the... Talk, as Minerva had called it. He had tried to insist that Minerva herself provide Lilium with such knowledge, but she'd refused with a cruelly pleasant smile on her old face. He was convinced the Gryffindor Head of House reveled in his misery.
His first thought was a word that Minerva would scold him for ever saying aloud in Lilium's presence.
The same word was also his second, third, and fourth thoughts.
Ignoring (enjoying) his immense discomfort, Minerva had said that when a girl reached a certain age, certain things ought to be explained. Twelve was actually quite late to finally be taught about these things, apparently. D—mn it all to hell. No matter the fact that his daughter was still as thin as a broomstick, flat as a board, and hadn't yet reached the other major milestones that determined a girl's transition into womanhood.
Twelve had suddenly seemed very young to Severus.
He bought books in order to prepare himself, sat his child down at the supper table, and then very scientifically informed her of what Minerva had also called 'The Quaffles and The Hoops'. It had gone... unpleasantly. Lilium had looked more and more horror—struck as the one—sided conversation progressed, eyes frequently darting to the door and cheeks turning a bright pink. Truthfully, she'd seemed just as uncomfortable as he had. He genuinely hadn't Occluded that hard since the reign of the f—cking Dark Lord himself.
Severus had been more than a little relieved that Lilium seemed just as resistant to discussing these matters as he was, even if it had left her mostly in the dark. He'd given her the basics about gender differences and sexual intercourse, and he had even remembered to mention 'protection' (which he felt quite proud of himself for), but by the look on Lilium's face, it was quite probable his daughter thought he meant protection via 'defensive spells' rather than anything else.
That suited him just fine.
In fact, Severus hoped Lilium would blast the bollocks off any boy who got a bit too handsy, and if she didn't, well... When she grew old enough to even consider courtship, he would quite simply kill any boy that even thought about looking in her direction.
In truth, Severus was more than pleased that Lilium hated most children and often shied away from the opposite gender, both from her inexperience with those her age and from her nightmares that warned of the dangers of men. His young and clever daughter never had any aspirations towards anything remotely romantic, nevermind how childish. Until now. Really, it was such a shame that he had sworn an Unbreakable Vow to protect The Boy Who Lived.
Now, more than ever, Severus Snape really would've liked to kill Harry Potter.
annie speaks
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THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHAPTERS SO FAR. lili is having a mental breakdown. everyone is worried. harry and lili had their first real fight, and harry called her pretty and more than that too. also, he thinks lockhart is a creep and is currently planning his demise. snape is being forced to be a better human being. oh, and he also realised that she has a major crush on harry j. potter. yikes. also, can we talk about how hilarious it is severus snape had to give THE TALK?! im dead.
sidenote: sorry i've been super slow on responding to comments, i do read them and they do make my heart sing, but i'm crazy busy because my wedding is in two weeks BUT i'm determined to persevere. don't worry, the updates for this book should not suffer.
ALSO, BECAUSE I'M AN IDIOT AND FORGOT TO DO THE SNEAK PEEK LAST WEEK, I'M GIVIGN YOU TWO SNEAK PEEKS OF THE NEXT TWO CHAPTERS:
CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
"The tearing of a soul..." Minerva whispered in hushed horror, "But who is going to betray her, Albus?"
"That is the saddest thing, I'm afraid... She will be the betrayer."
Minerva looked between the two men, utterly shocked, "We can keep her at Hogwarts; she was raised here, it is her home." The Scot focused her attention on the girl's father, insistent. "Severus, we can shelter her here. We will keep her safe, even from herself."
The Headmaster spoke to Minerva but kept his tired gaze upon Severus, all traces of twinkling gone from his pale eyes. "No, Minerva. All we can be is scared for her. And scared of her."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Instead of the empty stone walls of Gryffindor Tower, the walls to the Slytherin dormitory were lined with old tapestries and pictures of Slytherins past. So, she studied the endless pictures of students, tracking the names with mute fascination: Eduardus Black (1822—1899), Leta Lestrange (1897—1927), Morfin Gaunt (1900—1992), Severus Snape (1960—?).
Lili focused on looking for her mum, looking for anyone who could be her mum's brother, but then she stopped, stuck on a picture she was not expecting. There, in a crowd of students from long ago, stood a woman, black—haired and black—eyed, intensely serious, with a familiar hook nose. In the list of names at the bottom of the picture, it said:
'Top, third from center: Eileen Prince (1930—?).'
NOW, THE FUNNY THINGAMABOB: