Chapter Nine-- An Impossible Position
“Excellent,” James Potter grinned, nodding his head appreciatively. “It looks like your brother wasn’t having us on after all, Padfoot. There’s no way Hufflepuff can lose.”
Lily attempted to suppress her annoyance at the inside-joke nickname and followed James’s glance over to the Slytherin team as they stood waiting to enter the Quidditch pitch. She could pick out immediately what they were talking about: Severus stood there, leaning in a dejected manner against the entryway, a bit removed from the usual members of the Slytherin team. He was clad in Slytherin Quidditch gear and holding a typical Hogwarts-issue broom.
“Why would they do that?” Peter Pettigrew asked, sounding more puzzled than pleased, probably because he himself had never been picked for the Quidditch team no matter how many times he tried out, even with James as captain. Lily herself couldn’t help wondering how, rather than why, they had managed it. Severus had never shown much of a liking for Quidditch. Flying, yes; Quidditch, no. Something about not liking to have things hurled at him, which had sounded logical enough at the time, and, in fact, still did.
“I heard he cursed what’s his name, the Seeker -- some sort of duel in the Slytherin common room -- and Slughorn is making him fill in as punishment. The whole team is livid about it,” Sirius said, with some satisfaction. “Inside information from one of the Chasers,” he added unnecessarily, as Regulus Black, Slytherin Chaser, walked out onto the field with the rest of his teammates. The Marauders paused in their gossip to boo the Slytherin Quidditch team as they were announced.
“Stupid git probably hasn’t heard the rule that you put up with anything from the Quidditch team in the week of a game, rather than landing one of your own players in the hospital wing,” James declared. Lily wondered when this particular rule had been enacted, and decided that it had probably been created about four years before, in James Potter’s head. James went on, “Slughorn must be crazy.”
Crazy like a fox, Lily thought, with some surprise that the old man was acute enough to even make such a clever move. The last time most of them had seen Severus on a broom had probably been five years before in their first-year flying lessons, and he had been something of a spectacular failure. Their classmates therefore would have been completely unaware that while he had no interest in Quidditch, Severus had actually become quite adept at flying; the jitteriness that made him something of an odd bird on land somehow worked well on a broom. The fact that Hufflepuff would undoubtedly underestimate him only added to the brilliance of Slughorn’s punishment.
The problem with Severus and the Marauders, Lily reflected, was that when it came to any battle between them, she wanted both sides to lose, and this time, she didn’t see how that was possible. He had been relatively decent to Mary in Potions, although that could have just been for show, since he could be quite the actor when the need arose. On the other hand, there was that issue of a duel in the Slytherin common room that was real enough to land their Seeker in the hospital wing and Severus, scowling, on a borrowed broomstick. Lily had been torn for some time between wondering what his motives were and wondering why she always had to think so poorly of him. Most people could change. But Severus wasn’t most people. He had never really changed the entire time she knew him; only she had.
The whistle blew, the balls were released, and the two teams kicked off into the air to the usual cheers and boos that accompanied any game involving Slytherin. Lily scanned the stadium, more interested, as usual, in the crowd than in the game. Her friend Geeta, a die-hard Quidditch fan, was already cheering and yelling advice to the players from the sidelines, while Mary, never much of a sports fan, watched quietly. Professor Llewellyn, who had been out sick for a few days, was back and sitting in the Ravenclaw stands, looking enthusiastic but a bit pale. Teaching didn’t seem to be good for him, Lily thought: just a few months at Hogwarts, and he already looked somewhat older and much more tired. A tallish, slender, serious-looking young woman with dark blonde hair, presumably Mrs. Llewellyn, sat next to him, in robes conspicuously lacking any kind of house identification. Her husband, by way of contrast, was decked out in Ravenclaw blue from head to toe.
“Just curious -- why wouldn’t Slughorn just put in the substitute Seeker?” Mary asked Geeta. Benjy Fenwick, who sat on Mary’s other side, was notoriously useless at anything pertaining to Quidditch, and besides, he was too involved in making some sort of interesting contraption out of a piece of parchment, attacking the task with an unselfconscious enthusiasm more befitting of a seven-year-old than one who was already seventeen. He was so charmingly oblivious to what anyone thought of him that Lily found him both adorable and enviable, although she never quite understood why Mary had fancied him off and on for years. Mary had a proclivity for collecting odd specimens, apparently, and Ben was odd enough that he had no idea that she was even interested.
“Because they don’t really have a substitute Seeker,” Geeta responded. “Well, they do, technically -- Monroe -- but he couldn’t catch the Snitch if someone gave it to him in a basket. They’re out of luck if they don’t get some talent after Avery graduates. Still, Snape. Slughorn should have just given him some detentions.” She shook her head.
“He’s actually not bad,” Lily said, defensively, and then immediately wished she hadn’t. Mary gave her an odd look. “We used to practice flying in first and second year, and he had gotten fairly decent the last time I checked.”
“With a ball in play?” Geeta asked, clearly skeptical.
“We did some one-on-one with a Quaffle and the hoops -- he was better than I was. A lot better,” Lily replied.
“Yes, but I’m a lot better than you are,” Geeta responded rather superciliously, adding, “And I don’t play for the house team.”
“Fair enough,” Lily murmured, as evenly as possible. By now she was seething a bit: Geeta wasn’t as good as she thought she was, and Lily wasn’t that bad. Between Geeta in the stands and Severus on the field, she was not in much of a mood to watch this game.
The game in question began with Severus narrowly dodging a Bludger pelted at him, significantly, by one of his own team’s Beaters. Severus yelled something at his teammate, who yelled something back, which was followed by Severus flipping an obscene gesture at the idiot who had tried to hit him with the Bludger. Kettleburn, who was refereeing, missed the deliberate foul but called a foul on Slytherin for obscenity. Loud booing from the Slytherin stands ensued.
This was going to be interesting.
Lily watched as Severus took himself more or less out of the line of fire by flying lazily over to the far edge of the pitch, away from where the rest of his team hovered, and stationing himself near the Ravenclaw stands.
“He’s going to throw it for them, isn’t he?” Pettigrew crowed gleefully. “He’s going to pay them back by making them lose. This should be priceless.”
“He won’t,” Lily heard herself saying.
“He won’t?” Potter asked.
“He won’t. He’s too competitive. I know him.”
“Biblically?” Sirius queried, turning around and looking at her with a smirk.
Blast -- there was really no good answer for that one without implicitly taking sides. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she improvised, then -- as the Marauders and others sitting nearby made gagging and retching noises -- exchanged a mutually shocked look with Mary at her own audacity, followed by a quick shake of the head and a mouthed “NO” to a horrified-looking Remus. She was pulled back into the game, though, by a gasp that went up from those members of the crowd who were actually watching it and not cracking salacious jokes about the players.
A mere five minutes into the game, and Sev was already in trouble: Lily turned around just in time to see a blur of green and a flash of yellow which concluded with one of the Slytherin Beaters crashing into the Ravenclaw stands as Hufflepuff Chaser Siobhan Mulalley raced in from nowhere and pushed Severus out of his teammate’s path. Their brooms entangled, they spun wildly until Siobhan, who was a magnificent flyer, managed to arrest their freefall.
“Tibbets hits the Ravenclaw stands, narrowly missing Snape and Mulalley!” yelled Julius Hutchinson, this year’s Quidditch announcer. “Nice job, Mulalley! Note to the Slytherin Beaters: you’re supposed to protect your Seeker, not kill your Seeker.” Kettleburn was hovering at the middle of the pitch looking puzzled: Julius seemed to have a better handle on what was going on than he did. Siobhan, for her part, seemed to have recovered nicely and was conferring with Severus, who, from Lily’s vantage point, looked shaken and a bit ill.
“Looks like Snape likes Siobhan better than he likes you, Evans,” James commented sardonically.
“How so?” Lily asked, only half wanting to hear the answer.
“He appears to have taken her help without calling her -- what was it again?”
Filthy little Mudblood, her mind traitorously provided.
“You remember as well as I do, Potter,” she replied, and turned away from him, refusing once again to be drawn into their dispute. Potter looked pleased with himself, though, and she could understand why: even though the comment had left her angry at him, it had reminded her of how much angrier she was at Severus. Potter one, Snape zero.
Tibbets and his splintered broom made a jerky, awkward landing, and a time-out was called. While Professor Kettleburn and an annoyed and agitated Professor Slughorn attended to the injured Slytherin, Lily could see Siobhan shouting something and gesturing to her boyfriend, Sam Douglas, one of the Hufflepuff Beaters. A substitute was put in for Tibbets, and the game began again with the crowd on the edge of their seats, since a new rule had apparently been put into play by Slytherin: Severus could either score, thus ending the game with a Slytherin win, or continue to be attacked in midair by his own teammates until he was injured and replaced by a more acceptable substitute.
After seven years of friendship and six months of silence, Lily still involuntarily found herself putting herself in Severus’s place and trying to read his thoughts, so Slughorn’s attempt at making the punishment fit the crime left her thinking much more about her former friend than she had let herself in a while. He was in an impossible position, she reflected as he dodged yet another Slytherin Bludger. His own team was being beastly to him, but the obvious revenge -- not bothering to make any effort to catch the Snitch -- would have made him look pathetic, and she knew he was too competitive to put up with that. Watching him was too interesting for Lily to avoid, even though she kept trying.
At first, it seemed as though Sev had actually caught on and was trying to secure a win for his team. To begin with, he moved in off the sidelines and close to the new Hufflepuff Seeker, poor little Meaghan Butler, who was obviously trying to simultaneously look for the Snitch and avoid close proximity to Severus. In her one previous game, she hadn’t done a bad job, but in this one she was, understandably, flying nervously and poorly. After all, if the Bludgers that were aimed in Severus’s direction on a regular basis by the Hufflepuff Beaters and his own teammates, Beaters and otherwise, didn’t hit him, they would probably hit her. After a few minutes of relentless attempted fouls, Sam Douglas, always a decent big fellow who played fair, stationed himself near the two Seekers, fending off the repeated Bludger attacks regardless of who the actual target was.
Meanwhile, Hufflepuff was beginning to rack up points left, right and centre. As a Chaser, Siobhan had already been heavily recruited by several professional teams, and rumour had it that she would be joining the Harpies after graduation. But the Hufflepuff versus Slytherin game was typically by far her worst performance of the year, since -- as both the school’s star player and a Muggleborn -- she attracted the lion’s share of the dirty tricks that Slytherin had up their sleeves. The Bludger was almost always aimed at her, and Sam, whom she had seemingly been going out with forever, usually spent the entire game hovering closely to her as a bodyguard. On this occasion, though, Slytherin’s players were obviously so annoyed at Severus for putting Avery in the hospital wing that he had become their target instead.
Freed up not only from the Slytherin bully tactics, but also even from much of the usual attention given to a Seeker from the opposition, Siobhan was absolutely on fire. For a minute or two, only the Keeper stood between her and the goalposts as the others on the Slytherin team were too busy with either vengeance or distraction, and she took full advantage of the opportunity, scoring four goals in a row as three-quarters of the crowd cheered wildly.
Regulus Black finally gained control of the Quaffle and scored a goal for Slytherin, but the rest of his team seemed completely uninterested. Tyke, the other regular Beater and something of a thug, attempted to repeat Tibbets’ earlier effort, plowing hell-for-leather toward Severus and nearly hitting Meaghan in the process. This time, though, Severus was ready, and he ducked out of the way before Tyke could hit him. Meaghan dodged the attacker with a squeak. Even the Slytherin Keeper seemed so distracted by the mess her team was making that she was barely paying attention at her post. Siobhan again took advantage of the situation, scoring three more goals in rapid succession and putting Hufflepuff up seventy to ten.
Benjy, mercifully, had brought his Magni-Goggles, and Lily decided to make use of her seating location nearby to borrow them from him. “May I?” she asked, plucking them from his face before he had a chance to object.
“Oh, come on-- it was just getting good!” he complained, trying to grab for them. “This never gets good, and now when it does, I can’t see it!” James Potter took umbrage at the suggestion that Quidditch never got good and began arguing with Benjy about the merits of Quidditch. Five and a half years at Hogwarts didn’t seem to have taught James that arguing with Benjy, who cheerfully maintained his own opinions in the face of all reason and evidence, was hopeless. Still, when even Ben was paying attention to a Quidditch game, it definitely had to be interesting. The half-built parchment doodad lay neglected in his lap, doing occasional pointless spins and twirls.
Looking at something as active as a Quidditch game through Magni-Goggles was dizzying, but even with just a quick scan of the field, Lily could see that the only Slytherin players who gave a damn about winning the game were Regulus, who was trying in vain to get the Quaffle from Siobhan, and the Slytherin team captain, Linnaeus Campbell, who was yelling at his team to get their act together and play some Quidditch.
The Slytherin crowd looked livid, but it was impossible to tell whether they were angry at their team for valuing revenge more than scoring points, or at Severus for putting Avery out of commission. Lily tried to lip-read, but before she could figure out what they were saying, a voice ordered “Give me those,” and the Magni-Goggles were appropriated by Sirius Black. Lily didn’t bother trying to get them back-- the mere effort of trying to view so many whirling, dipping, flying forms through them had left her nauseated.
“She’s got it!” Geeta yelled, and Lily looked up as Meaghan took a sudden turn toward the Hufflepuff bleachers, with Severus alongside her, neck-in-neck.
“No, he does!” Sirius yelled, leaning forward and staring intently through the goggles.
“And neither Seeker has caught the Snitch!” Hutchinson announced in a tone of astonishment. “What a close call! Nice work from Butler! Unfortunately, no one seems to have told Snape there that his job is to CATCH the Snitch, not play table tennis with it.”
Sirius put down the Magni-Goggles. “He swatted it out of her reach,” he announced, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the hell Snivellus is doing, but he could have caught it.”
Everyone turned around to look at Lily, except Benjy, who had the attention span of a gnat and had returned to the contraption he had been working on previously. “What IS he doing?” Geeta asked.
“Why is everybody asking me?” Lily replied. “I have no bloody idea. What, we haven’t spoken in months but now he’s suddenly supposed to be telling me his Quidditch strategy?”
“Well, you know him, right?” Peter asked.
“Leave her alone,” James Potter ordered loftily, taking on the role of knight in shining armour. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
Everyone makes mistakes? It didn’t take much to guess what her seven-year mistake was supposed to have been. “My mistake, Potter,” she hissed, “was sitting anywhere near you.”
James blushed to the roots of his hair, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it, then opened it again and commanded Sirius, “Give me the bloody goggles. I want to watch this.”
It was definitely worth watching. Lily wasn’t sure what she had missed, but apparently it involved the Slytherin team becoming collectively livid that Severus had come so close to catching the Snitch but had let it go. The team was in complete disarray, and even the Keeper was no longer defending her post, so Siobhan scored over and over again as the Hufflepuff crowd cheered wildly and Campbell yelled at his players to get back where they belonged.
“How far are they up?” Mary asked, bewildered.
“I have no idea,” Geeta said, shaking her head and at once seemingly at a loss when it came to Quidditch. “I have absolutely no idea.” Lily could understand why -- it was easily the oddest Quidditch game she had ever seen.
The Slytherin team’s attempts at obtaining a replacement Seeker picked up in intensity after the near miss with the Snitch. One of the Slytherins pelted yet another Bludger at their temporary Seeker, but Douglas noticed it and once again slammed it to the far end of the field. Severus yelled something to Sam, who yelled something back. Given Severus’s reply of what sounded very much like “It’s your funeral,” Lily imagined that he had told Sam not to bother helping him, which seemed characteristic. It seemed equally characteristic of Sam to help another team’s player who was being unfairly targeted, and either Sam was the more stubborn of the two, or Severus really didn’t mind the assistance, because Sam did not appear to be leaving.
“Another Slytherin foul on their own Seeker deflected yet again by Hufflepuff,” Julius called out. There were a few muffled boos from the Hufflepuff stands and more from the row of Marauders below Lily. “At least someone is playing for Slytherin,” the announcer called out, shaking his head at the bizarre revenge play that was going on high above the ground, “because their own team certainly isn’t.”
As he finished his comment, the other Hufflepuff Chaser, Ignatius Everett, scored another goal for his team, and Meaghan took a sudden turn to the left. Severus seemed distracted and almost didn’t follow her this time, but suddenly he took off after her with reckless determination, catching up so quickly that he bumped into her. Still, her hand was outstretched, and she seemed once again ready to catch the Snitch-- but this time, Severus pushed her arm out of the way, and the Snitch flew off. The tension was palpable -- Lily could feel the crowd holding its collective breath, and then releasing it. The bizarre game was still going, and Hufflepuff was up, one hundred to ten.
While the Slytherin captain was yelling at his team to bloody well get revenge later and play Quidditch now, with an enraged Regulus Black echoing his agreement, Siobhan had again gotten control of the Quaffle, and she and Everett had a beautifully choreographed series of points scored. Siobhan, with her typical precision, hurled the ball through the hoop, Everett retrieved it and threw it to Siobhan, Siobhan scored again, over and over until Hufflepuff was up to one hundred and seventy to Slytherin’s ten. “Are we allowed to do this?” Siobhan yelled to Kettleburn at one point, and apparently was given a satisfactory answer, but by then the Slytherin Keeper had actually returned her attention to her post and Hufflepuff’s string of goals was ended.
Hufflepuff’s Chasers couldn’t lose, but their Seeker was not having much luck. Severus never seemed to actually see the Snitch himself; nonetheless, he did an excellent job of following Meaghan and preventing her from catching it. Time after time, she bulleted after the thing, and time after time he cut her off in some regard. She was smaller and lighter, but he seemed to be more reckless, repeatedly either bumping into her or getting ahead of her but missing the Snitch. It was obviously becoming clear to his Slytherin teammates that their initial tactic had failed: so far they hadn’t managed to knock Severus off his broom or injure him sufficiently for a replacement to be called in, and instead, they’d only angered their own Seeker into prolonging a game that should have been over ages before.
Their strategy, instead, seemed to have turned to actually trying to score some goals for a change, since the Snitch was probably a foregone conclusion: the Slytherin Chasers were concentrating on the goalposts in a serious fashion for the first time in the game instead of exhorting their teammates to play it correctly. Campbell yelled to Severus that if he couldn’t be useful, at least he should hold off on catching the Snitch for now until Slytherin had enough points to win the game. From what Lily could tell as their voices carried on the wind, Severus told Campbell to go do something to himself that was anatomically impossible.
“They’re going to kill him, aren’t they?” Mary asked Lily, looking worried and excited at the same time. “They’re really going to kill him.”
“I don’t think he cares,” Lily answered, utterly transfixed.
“Well, if he wanted to get back at them, he’s doing a brilliant job,” James conceded. “I mean, if he lets Hufflepuff get all those points and then just lets Meaghan get the Snitch, there’s no way Slytherin can even dream of the House Cup.”
Sirius was just shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he stated slowly. “Hufflepuff must be paying him.”
“Sam is a decent bloke,” Remus disagreed. “He’s probably just defending him on general principle. I doubt there’s anything underhanded going on.”
“And Snivellus is giving them the gift of an enormous lead in return,” James decided. “Either way, who cares? Slytherin is getting its arse kicked. That’s all that matters to me.”
Severus, meanwhile, moved in a leisurely manner toward the edge of the field, high above the stands, trailing Meaghan as before. The cold autumn wind whipped his hair around into his face, getting in his mouth and eyes, and Lily wondered why he hadn’t had the good sense to put it back in a ponytail. He probably was averse to looking even remotely like one of the girls. Or just too bloody stubborn. Or both. A quick movement shook her out of her reverie as, out of nowhere, Severus went into a sharp dive toward the Gryffindor stands and Meaghan tried to catch up with him.
Suddenly, two things happened at once -- the tips of Severus’s thin fingers caught the edge of a wing, curling the Golden Snitch into his outstretched right hand -- and Tyke, the other Slytherin Beater, came barreling out of the sky too late and slammed into both Seekers, catching the end of Meaghan’s broom and cracking his own broom handle hard into Severus’s left arm. Severus’s broom tilted wildly, Meaghan went spinning off in the other direction, and a collective gasp went up from the stands.
As Meaghan arrested her own erratic flight and headed unsteadily down, followed in rapid succession by some worried teammates, Severus regained his balance, made an untidy landing, hurled the Snitch to the ground, and stormed off the field with his left arm clutched to his chest. Thus the game ended with most of the crowd utterly baffled, as the Slytherin crowd let out a roar of outrage, and the Hufflepuff crowd seemed more puzzled than elated. “And Hufflepuff wins -- I think -- 170 to 160!” the announcer yelled. “What the hell kind of a game was that?!!”
“Language, Mr. Hutchinson! Language!” Professor McGonagall reminded him, and then shook her head and muttered, “Slytherins,” in a tone implying that she failed to understand the entire house.
What Lily failed to understand was why, when it had looked as though Severus might fall, she had found herself half out of her seat with her wand pointed. She had sat back down, embarrassed, hoping that nobody else had seen it, and wondering what this new equation of Severus minus the Death Eater crowd actually meant.
A few minutes later, as she and her friends departed the stands, Lily could hear a flustered Slughorn lecturing the Slytherin team on poor sportsmanship, attacking their own players, and how they’d all be banned from the next game altogether if the news of any further fallout from this one reached his ears.
“Well, I suppose that’s good news for Severus,” Mary concluded, waving a hand in Slughorn’s direction. “I didn’t think his roommates would let him live the night after letting them lose the game like that.”
“They tried to kill him, and he still gave them 150 points toward the House Cup,” Geeta reminded her. “It doesn’t matter if you lose a game if you have the most points over all at the end of the year, remember. Slytherin really has nothing to complain about, except their own bloody awful work at defence and offence.”
“I still don’t think he’ll have his sorrows to seek,” Lily replied. “That was a hard hit to his arm, didn’t you think? I’d guess he’ll get to spend the night in the hospital wing with his dear friend Avery. Anyway, let his own friends worry about him, and not a pair of filthy little Mudbloods like us.”
“Does he have any friends?” Mary asked, sounding a bit worried.
“I don’t care,” Lily replied. “That’s his problem. Let’s talk about something else now -- please?” No one needed to know how it still haunted her sometimes, and talking about it only made that fact too bleeding obvious.
Mary obligingly changed the topic to who was going with whom to the Christmas Dance, and Lily let herself forget.
……………………………….
Remus, having recovered from his latest illness, was in grand form, and thus kept up a constant stream of friendly banter as he and Lily made their rounds of the castle later that night. Lily was grateful for it, because she didn’t feel much like talking herself.
Over by the hospital wing, Lily found herself pausing for an unnecessarily long time outside the closed door. “I wonder what he did to his arm,” she said, more to herself than Remus.
“Severus? Broke it in two places,” Remus replied.
“Really?” Lily asked. “Where’d you hear that?”
“McGonagall. Both of the bones in his left forearm, apparently. Pomfrey had to move them back into place, however she does that.”
Lily cringed.
“They’ll have it all fixed up overnight, and he’ll be back to his usual delightful self in the morning,” Remus replied. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”
She’d had some stays in there herself: a few days in the Isolation Ward for the measles, which had been utterly miserable, and overnight once for a bad stomach flu that had left her a bit dehydrated. A stay in the hospital wing had its charm, though -- the temporary celebrity one obtained, the retreat from the hustle and bustle of school life, Madame Pomfrey’s care and attention, the outpouring of support and concern from one’s friends. The flowers, the chocolates…
“He really doesn’t have anyone, does he?” she said out of the blue, moving her train of thought into actual speech as she and Remus walked on.
“Who?” Remus asked, with a confused look.
“Sev--erus,” she said, quickly correcting herself and going from the old nickname to his given name, one she had rarely used. He had practically always been Sev, never Severus, and she had only called him Snivellus once in her life, on a day when he had called her something much worse.
“Severus? And whose fault is that?” Remus asked, suddenly sounding surprisingly tense. Lily went to open her mouth, and Remus stopped her by continuing, “I know, I know, horrible childhood. You’ve told me. He’s sixteen like we are, though; he’s been at Hogwarts for five plus years. Anything he’s up to these days, he can only blame on himself, I think. I don’t know anyone who had a perfectly happy childhood.”
“Except James,” Lily countered.
“Except James. James has had a perfectly happy everything.”
“Bully for him,” Lily found herself saying bitterly, suddenly annoyed at James for his sixteen-year run of good luck. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she had been in a bad mood since the game. James seemed as good a target as any. He was arrogant, seemingly invincible, and, most importantly, not currently present.
“You were talking about Severus,” Remus corrected her, deflecting her annoyance from his besotted friend.
“I was saying he really doesn’t have anyone.”
“And I was asking whose fault it was.”
“His, probably. Although I think it might actually be a good recommendation if half of Slytherin wants you dead.”
“I think it means absolutely nothing,” Remus stated. “They’ve probably just found out that his great-grandfather was a Muggle or something like that. I’m sure it’s not because of anything wonderful on his part. He managed to turn you against him, after all, which I didn’t think was possible.”
“You’re probably right,” she said, but somehow she wasn’t quite convinced. And at least she’d apparently done a better job of shutting her mouth about Severus’s Muggle dad than she had about the fact that his parents were dreadful. It was just Remus and Mary, but she was starting to wonder whom else they might have told. She was also beginning to wonder why Remus had ever let her into his own much bigger secret, since she was presently kicking herself for having been gossipy and indiscreet.
They took the prescribed path around the castle, with Remus continuing to do most of the talking and Lily responding with “Mm-hmm” every now and again to make it seem as though she were listening. In actuality, she was pondering how the last time Sev had been in the hospital wing, to her knowledge anyway, was when he’d caught a bad case of the chickenpox two years before. His mates had visited once; she had practically camped out there and had ticked off Pomfrey with her Muggle remedies and her steady supply of illicit sweets to her feverish, uncomfortable friend. The thought of him lying there by himself while his arm mended made her feel temporarily guilty and apt to engage in sudden and ill-advised forgiveness: she had always had a motherly streak a mile wide, and contrary to what she might have expected, he had never minded her fussing over him when he was sick or injured.
“Why don’t you talk to him then?” Remus queried, completely changing the subject.
“Hmmm?” Lily replied.
“You’re still thinking about that, aren’t you? You’re a million miles away,” he informed her.
She gave a weak laugh and looped her arm through his. “It’s like you can read minds. I won’t ask him,” she continued, “because I have no good reason to believe he’s any different from last year. I mean, he doesn’t get along with the Death Eater Club anymore, obviously, but for all I know, he might be trying desperately to get back into their good books. I’d need a solid reason to think that he’s actually changed.”
“Would you ever be friends with him again?” Remus asked, looking concerned.
“You really don’t want me to, do you?” she questioned, looking up at his worried face. He came to a halt, and she stopped along with him. “I know he’s a disaster, but he was my friend for so long, and we did mean a lot to each other, I think. At least, he meant a lot to me; he was like a brother to me most of the time.”
“Interesting brother,” Remus replied acidly. “One that fancies you.”
“That’s your theory, and you can keep it,” Lily snapped. “Besides, I never said that I was like a sister to him. And so the answer is, no, I wouldn’t talk to him again unless I had incontrovertible evidence that he had really changed. I don’t want to go back on what I’ve said and then find out he’s still--”
“-- practically a Death Eater?”
“Exactly. And then what would I do, stop talking to him again? It was hard enough doing it once. Besides, it takes away the gravity of such a decision, I suppose, if I go back on it without a really good reason. You know -- we’re friends, no we’re not, yes we are, no we’re not. He won’t take me seriously at all if I talk to him again and then find out he’s up to no good and cut him off. Nobody would -- I’d be like the boy who cried wolf.”
“You’ve really thought this out, haven’t you?” Remus looked at her in what appeared to be fondness and amazement.
“He was practically my best friend for seven years: I didn’t just put an end to that lightly. I’ve never lost a friend before -- not on purpose, anyway... So, moving on, did you ask Marlene to the Christmas Dance?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“And she’s already going with Cameron Yorick.”
“Lovely.”
“I know. I have all the luck.”
“She’d be better off going with you,” Lily commiserated. “Cameron’s very good-looking, but there’s really not much between his ears. Have you ever tried talking to him?”
“Not really,” Remus said with a shrug.
“You’re not missing much. Why doesn’t James just ask her? She’s positively silly about him. And she’s the best-looking girl in the school.”
“Not enough of a challenge, I think,” Remus answered thoughtfully. “She already fancies him. Seamus has always been one for the thrill of the chase.”
“Seamus?” she asked.
“James,” he answered. “Seamus, Diego…”
“-- Prongs, ” she cut in, pointedly. “You’re never going to explain that one to me, are you?”
“I can’t, Lily. I wish I could, but I just -- I can’t.”
“It’s not an interesting anatomical feature, is it?” she asked.
“Oh God no,” he replied, chuckling. “I don’t even want to think about that. Was that your theory?”
“Mary’s theory, actually,” she answered. “I mean, think about it: Moony.”
“I hadn’t thought about that, but it’s not what you’re thinking.”
“It isn’t? Too bad, because that was an interesting image… Actually, now that I think about it, I think I finally understand Moony. And I can’t even tell anyone. Oh well -- next one, then: Padfoot.”
“You’re getting innuendo out of that?” Remus asked, still laughing and shaking his head.
“We’re not quite sure what to do with Padfoot, although Geeta thought it sounded like something someone might get when they’ve had syphilis for a very long time. Right: Wormtail, Remus. Wormtail. Think about it.”
“Not very flattering to Peter, is it?” he gasped, shaking with laughter. He was leaning against the wall, now, holding on to his sides. “I had no idea you girls had such dirty minds.”
“You still can’t tell me?” she answered.
“I can’t. Peter is going to want to defend his manhood, but I can’t.” He wiped his eyes and caught his breath as Lily stood grinning at him.
“I know,” she answered. “Why don’t you go to the dance with me? As friends. All these years I’ve had a friend who was a boy who was absolutely phobic of going to dances. You’re a friend who’s a boy who actually wants to go to the thing. Seems like something to do before we graduate.”
“It does,” Remus answered, grinning at her. “Absolutely -- let’s go. Thanks. By the way, what ever happened to Edric?”
“Never really got past the flirting stage. Too boring.”
“He is, isn’t he?”
“He really is. It’s all Quidditch, all the time. Sev and I used to make fun of the people who went to these dances,” she mused, not even bothering to correct herself on the name this time. “Well,” she said softly. “It was good while it lasted.”
“I’m not much of a dancer, by the way,” Remus warned her, changing the topic.
“I’m dreadful,” she replied with a grin. “About the only thing I know how to do is the waltz. And a bit of disco. Bad disco.”
“That’s nothing. Sirius says that my dancing looks like I’m fighting off doxies,” Remus stated.
Lily started laughing, genuinely feeling better for the first time since the afternoon. “Eh, we’ll dock points from anyone who makes fun of us,” she declared. “We can wear the prefect badges on our dress robes and look like a right pair of self-important prats. All right,” she concluded. “Let’s finish these rounds before they send out a search party.”
“James is going to kill me,” Remus said suddenly, coming to a sudden halt.
“Your answer is that you’re going with me to fend off anyone who might have designs on me,” Lily replied. “I’d never go with him in a million years anyhow, so at least you’re keeping away any genuine suitors. Not that there are any genuine suitors, but James doesn’t need to know that. End of story.”
“Brilliant,” Remus answered. “All right, let’s finish up and get back to the common room; it’s damned cold out here.”
Lily gave him a quick smile and picked up the pace.
Snivellus and the Head Girl by SeverusSempra
Chapter Notes: Lily's point of view-- starting to wonder.
Chapter Endnotes:
Thanks so much for all the helpful reviews, starting with my terrific betas, Fresca (Colores) and Snape's Talon (Sandy), who have been with me through this entire long story. :)