a proposal
Gathering one’s inheritance and waiting for the appropriate grieving time to pass for a father’s death actually took far longer than expected, and it was nearly two months passed by the time Sirius finally sent James and Dorcas back to Hertfordshire. Sirius and Regulus were obliged to remain in Derbyshire a while longer, but Sirius could tell the other two were anxious to return and kindly sent them ahead, promising to write.
It was miserable, being back in Walburga’s clutches again. He had not left for London the first time under agreeable circumstances; in fact, he had been thrown from Pemberley in disgrace about six months ago for refusing to marry his only unwed cousin, a certain Miss Narcissa Black. Sirius had stormed over to the Potters and convinced James to move with him to London, leaving Dorcas to keep Regulus company, who Walburga would never let out of her sight. Sirius bitterly regretted not smuggling his brother out anyway in the coming months, not only because he missed him something dreadful, but also because he might have prevented Regulus’s French exile if only he had been around. He’d received a summons from his mother not long thereafter, imploring him to come to Derbyshire so the two could make amends, only to discover what she’d done to Regulus in his absence. Walburga was evidently no less cruel in their adulthood as she had been when they were children.
Still, she was in grief, or at least a very convincing performance of it; distant relatives from all over England visited Derbyshire in that time, and Sirius and Regulus were often able to slip off to remote areas of the grounds while she received them. Regulus was more quiet and withdrawn than Sirius remembered his brother being, but still he delighted in talking to him, just the simple joy of hearing his voice after so long apart.
“How was France, really?” Sirius asked one day in late autumn, when the ground was beginning to harden and the chill in the air was enough to keep them from wandering the gardens, their preferred way of passing the time. Regulus was relaxing on the cushions of a window-seat, reading the astronomy book Sirius had bought for him in Meryton, and Sirius was laying on the floor, legs propped up on the wall in a way James always claimed made one think better. It was raining heavily outside, enough to rattle the window panes and block out the light of the sun. Regulus lazily glanced out the window at the gusts of wind battering the trees just outside. He made a quiet, contemplative noise.
“Ce n'était pas si mal que tu le penses, mon frère.” It wasn’t as bad as you might think, brother.
Sirius studied Regulus’s silhouette against the window, ever the tragic, long-suffering prince. Sirius snickered at the thought, earning himself a disgruntled look in the process. “On the contrary,” Sirius said cheekily, “I imagine it was all smoky cafés, cigarettes, and attractive strangers. And I bet you loved getting to brush up on your French, you little freak.” He was only joking, but the words had a sobering effect on both of them, remembering the quiet afternoons spent in their father’s study, poring over dictionaries and memorizing proper conjugations, back in the days when Sirius still longed for his approval.
“Tu me connais trop bien,” Regulus said after a while. You know me too well.
Sirius was content to let them both lapse into silence then, but Regulus spoke again before long, eyes fixed firmly on the page he was reading but clearly not absorbing anything. “It was better than being at home,” he admitted quietly. “She was worse after you left.” Sirius said nothing, carefully watching his brother. “In a sick sort of way, I think she missed you.”
Sirius’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. “She was the one who kicked me out.”
Regulus shrugged, turning a page. “But she never expected you’d really go.”
“I don’t understand,” Sirius said. “She missed me so she sent you away?”
Regulus smiled sadly. He wouldn’t look at Sirius directly. “You were always her golden son, Sirius. And I was like your shadow. She ran you off and didn’t know how to fix it, so she shipped me away to France for some miracle cure so she could have an heir and wouldn’t feel your absence anymore.”
The silence in the room was deafening. Sirius was overcome with emotion. He knew if he spoke he would begin to weep for all they’d been through and thusly kept his mouth firmly shut; Regulus sensed this all too well and merely nodded. As much as Sirius loved James, only Regulus could understand something like this.
“I know,” he said. He seemed far too world-weary for his nineteen years. “I don’t think she’s… I don’t know if Mum ever properly developed into a person, do you?”
Sirius took a deep, steadying breath. “Never thought I’d see the day when you begin to pity her,” he said uneasily, joke falling flat. Regulus shook his head.
“Not pity,” he said. “Just trying to understand. There wasn’t much for me to do in France besides think, you know.”
Sirius was quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“The doctor told them some time away would do me good, like somehow the atmosphere of Paris would rejuvenate me to a level of health I’d never been capable of in England.”
“Fat chance,” Sirius couldn’t help interrupting. “Not after so many generations of inbreeding.”
This did shock a laugh out of Regulus, though Sirius did regret the joke slightly when Regulus chucked his book across the room at him, thudding into his stomach.
“Sirius, you do realize you’re my brother when you say that? My genes are as good as yours!”
“Untrue!” Sirius cried. “I got the dashing good looks and you got the maladies.”
Regulus snorted, turning his back to Sirius. “You’re the worst.”
“Anyway,” Sirius prompted. “You were saying?”
Regulus shot a nasty look over his shoulder. “I was saying, there was a lot to reflect on when I was over there. I didn’t know anyone, and the doctor was always so busy, his best advice to me was to just hobble around until I started to feel better. I sat on park benches and fed birds. I read. I watched people go about their days. Sure, it was dreadfully lonesome, but not as bad as you seem to have built up in your head.”
Slowly, Sirius stood, brushing off his dusty clothes and depositing Regulus’s book on a nearby table before making his way over to the window and sitting beside his brother.
“All the same,” he said gently. “I should have been there. I’m sorry, Reg.”
Regulus offered him a bittersweet smile. “But we’ll find a way to leave, after all this is over? Both of us?”
Sirius nodded firmly. “Yes. Whatever it takes. And you’ll love Hertfordshire, you really will.”
“Good,” Regulus said. “I’m interested to meet those friends of yours. Really Sirius, you’re worse than a schoolgirl with a crush.”
Sirius grinned, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Nice try, little brother. You’re no better than me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your brief stint as a poet…”
Regulus’s cheeks flamed red and he was stammering something and Sirius was laughing and teasing him ruthlessly and suddenly it was like no time had passed since their days under the same roof at all.
—
“Sev, fish for dinner tonight, do you think?” Lily asked pleasantly, filling her basket with various other groceries their mother had asked for. Remus flashed Mary an amused look out of the corner of his eye. Sev? She smirked in a distinct way back. Seems like it. Marlene elbowed Remus in the stomach, loudly whispering, “Don’t you bastards dare leave me out! Say your words aloud, you cowards!” Mary and Remus burst into laughter.
“Leave you out of what, Marlene?” Lily asked.
“Nothing, Lu!” Mary declared airily. “Fish sounds delicious.” Remus nodded along, still stifling laughter. “I agree.”
“Alright,” Lily said cautiously. “Fish it is.” Snape obediently fetched the proper supplies for their supper.
In the weeks since Mr. Potter’s removal from Hertfordshire, Remus had watched his sister’s behavior with ever-increasing concern. The weather was growing colder and the days shorter all the while and, absorbed as he was in his own matters, Remus knew Lily to be somewhat depressed.
Lily had never freely volunteered information about her feelings towards Snape, withdrawing more and more from her siblings each day, and all they knew was first he was over for tea with Lily a few times a week and then soon he was attending family dinners and before long, he was even securing invitations for the siblings’ weekly shopping in town. Remus didn’t know what to make of it. He was quite sure Snape had not swept Lily off her feet in the same manner Mr. Potter had, but he proved to be decent company once Remus became more familiar with him. The longer things continued in this manner, the more Remus came to believe Lily was entertaining hopes of marrying him. It was almost as though she knew she’d be settling, choosing a man she liked rather than loved for the sake of adding Snape’s small amount of money to the Lupins’ and beginning a family. That was the most tragic part of it all. Remus knew Lily wanted children more than anything and, despite her youth, was beginning to feel as though she was running out of time. Remus felt helpless watching her. He’d done his best to be cordial and friendly to the man and he certainly wouldn’t make for a poor husband, but of course he was no—
“Mr. Potter!”
Remus snapped to attention at the sound of Lily’s exclamation. Sure enough, there stood the man before them, looking as shocked and pink-cheeked and charming and effortless as ever.
“Lily!” he greeted astonishedly, as if he hadn’t known she’d be in the market on a Sunday afternoon preparing for supper as she always was. “What a pleasure it is to see you again!”
Lily’s cheeks and nose were already pink from the cold but she flushed darker still; the colour reaching her chest and the tips of her ears. Mr. Snape looked as though he was sucking on a lemon.
“Merlin, it’s really you,” she said, almost dazed. Mr. Potter was grinning from ear to ear, gloved hands reaching out to clasp Lily’s in a warm handshake.
Mary watched this all unfold sceptically. “Mr. Potter,” she said dryly. “What a surprise. We thought you’d never return.” Remus nudged his sister with an elbow to quiet her, but Mary persisted anyway. “No really,” she continued. “Your letter made the unlikeliness of your return quite clear, didn’t it, Lily?”
Lily looked morbidly embarrassed, beginning to say something, but Mr. Potter was already apologizing profusely before she could speak, blushing and bowing his head. “And for that — please believe me — I did not mean to cause unhappiness or hurt at all, I know it was terribly rude of me to depart with such little warning, but I’m afraid it was a matter of most urgency—”
“Oh, you don’t need to explain yourself, really, Mr. Potter, it’s fine!” Lily cut him off hurriedly, eyes brighter and more attentive than Remus had seen in weeks. “And Miss Meadowes and Mr. Black, are they well? How were things in London?”
Mr. Potter beamed at her. “Splendid!” he exclaimed immediately, then sobered slightly, addressing Remus. “Well, not splendid, of course, not in Sirius’s case, but as good as you might expect. I’m sure he told you?”
Remus frowned quizzically, but Mr. Potter was already prattling on, speaking to Marlene now. “And Dorcas is here, just back at Netherfield Park I mean, and I’m sure she’d love to see you as soon as possible! The two sent us on ahead — from Derbyshire actually, not London — but anyway, Sirius and Regulus are still tied up with family matters and we’re not sure when they’ll join us.”
Remus tried to stifle his disappointment. Marlene reached over and squeezed his hand for a reason unknown to him, but it was nice all the same. He smiled at his sister, glad on her behalf that the object of her affections was back in town.
Lily and Mr. Potter were still lost in a world of their own, the former smiling shyly to herself and the latter unabashed in his delight. “Lily,” Snape interjected coldly, startling the rest of them, each who had forgotten his presence at all. “Your mother will be wondering where we are with the groceries.” He gazed at Mr. Potter pointedly, as if to assert that he currently held a greater intimacy in Lily’s heart than the new arrival.
Lily looked down at the basket in her hands as if she’d never seen it before. “Hmm? Oh yes, Severus, of course.”
Remus watched Mr. Potter’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Lovely stuff altogether,” he said to Lily, demeanor just as friendly and chivalrous as ever. “I suppose I’ll see you around, shall I? All of you are as welcome at Netherfield Park as ever.” He bowed and turned to go, but was stalled in his tracks by an exclamation that seemed to shock even Lily herself.
“Wait!” she cried. “I mean. Um. Would you do us the honour of joining us for dinner? I’m sure it wouldn’t be much trouble at all to cook for one more person, and we’d all dearly love to have you…”
Mr. Potter blinked, surprised. “And Dorcas too, if she’d like to come!” Marlene piped up.
Mr. Potter smiled warmly, bowing again. “If it’s not too much trouble, we’d be happy to oblige. What time might—”
“I mean no offence to your friends,” Snape interrupted, rather nastily. “But surely we haven’t enough supplies for such late additions to our dinner plans?”
Lily glanced over at him, distracted. “Oh sure. Be a dear, Severus, and fetch two more portions of the meal, would you?”
Snape’s face soured further but off he went anyway, completing her wishes without complaint. Lily watched Mr. Potter disappear with a faint, dazed smile on her face. Mary swatted her arm playfully once both gentlemen were out of sight. “Merlin, Lily, even I’m not that harsh! Tight leash you’ve got the poor boy on!” Mary, Marlene, and Remus all burst into fits of giggles, but Lily merely flushed darker and cringed at the words.
“Mary, Good Heavens, all of you!” she fretted, “I’m begging you, please behave yourselves tonight, please don’t tease them like you always do—”
“Of course not, Lily!” replied Remus, overshadowed by the “Not likely” uttered by Marlene and the “We’ll see” from Mary. Lily buried her face in her hands, trying to keep from laughing. “You’re awful!” she cried.
“Yes, yes,” Mary said, patting her head. “We love you too.”
—
The atmosphere at the dinner table was tense to say the least. Remus had downed three glasses of wine within the first hour due to the discomfort of the situation; Mr. Snape and Mr. Potter had spent much of the time engaging in extravagant shows of friendliness in order to distract from their thinly-veiled dislike for one another and any entertainment Remus might have gleaned from such a situation was negated by Lily’s growing unhappiness. Miss Meadowes had apparently fallen under the weather and was unable to attend the dinner, but still Marlene seemed to be enjoying herself; she and Mary kept stirring up trouble for no reason at all, and for once Remus cursed their sense of humour.
“How delicious,” Mr. Potter remarked after a while, to break the silence. “To whom may I attribute the excellency of this cooking?”
Mary took a demure sip of wine. “That would be me, Mr. Potter, and my brother Remus. I’m afraid we’re the only two in this house who can keep from scorching supper.”
“Yes, thank you, Mary,” Lily replied, in a pointed attempt to quiet her. Mary just blinked back at her, completely innocent.
Marlene loudly cleared her throat, addressing Snape across the table. “Mr. Snape, how have you found the regiment? You can’t have been in it long, I imagine?”
Snape smiled awkwardly. “Yes, it’s… Well, it’s perfectly suitable, though I must say there’s not many members of it I can claim to have a close acquaintance to. It is rather a lonesome sort of life.” His gaze flicked to Lily for just a moment before returning to Marlene. “All the same, I have no complaints.”
Mr. Potter smirked at him. “How lucky it is then, that you’ve made such a friend in our Lily!”
Snape’s smile grew tighter, but still he nodded. “Lucky indeed,” he said challengingly, eyes locking with Mr. Potter’s. “I can confidently say she is one of the brightest ornaments in all of British court.” Lily bowed her head modestly, flattered, and Snape seemed pleased by her response.
“How very kind,” Mr. Potter declared. “You’re such a charmer, Mr. Snape.”
Lily shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I bet he says that to all the ladies,” she said quickly, laughing it off, but Remus could tell she was embarrassed.
“Oh, not so,” Mr. Potter insisted, mouth beginning to curve up at the edges. “How happy for you, Mr. Snape, to possess the talent of flattery with such delicacy. Tell me, do these attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are they the result of previous study?”
Mr. Snape took a stab of broccoli. “They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, to be sure. I always wish to give such attentions as unstudied an air as possible, though I’m sure that’s not such a concept where you’re from, Mr. Potter? I daresay authenticity is less valued in the high society of London.”
Mr. Potter cocked his head slightly to the side, smile widening. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mr. Snape. I actually hail from a county not terribly far from Hertfordshire, though I’m sure such places all seem the same to you after so long on the road. In any case, I wouldn’t trouble yourself on the matters of authenticity. Surely no one would expect your manners to be rehearsed.”
Marlene nearly choked on her wine in a snort of laughter, and Remus had to kick her under the table to quiet her. She glared at him across the table but obediently held her tongue; Lily’s demeanor had grown icy within that last exchange and none well-acquainted with her temper fancied trying her patience.
“I think you’ll find, Mr. Potter,” she reproached, words slicing through the air of the still dining room, “that the manners of those below your station are not necessarily less refined than yours.”
Mr. Potter blinked, surprised. “No, of course not. I only meant—”
“What you meant was quite clear, though it’s of no consequence to me,” Snape cut in, smirk beginning to form at Lily’s anger towards Mr. Potter. “Men born with silver spoons in their mouths hardly ever learn the proper skills to socialize outside their circles, and who are we to blame you for this phenomenon?”
Remus cringed. That was not the proper way to alleviate tension in Lily’s mind, and surely what was to come next wouldn’t be pleasant. Sure enough, Lily turned on Snape just as quickly.
“And you,” she said hotly, “have been provoking Mr. Potter from the start! You haven’t even tried to get along, though you know Mr. Potter is a friend of mine. Both of you have been perfectly beastly tonight.”
A silence worse than death fell over the table. Mr. Potter had the decency to look apologetic, sheepishly twirling the stem of his wine glass, but Snape seemed to be screwing up the courage to say something.
“Lily,” he began, glancing between her and Mr. Potter. Remus’s stomach flipped. There was no way this could end agreeably. “Lily, I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved, but I just couldn’t see you with him. You can hardly be at a loss to understand my intentions with you.”
Lily’s expression was one of barely disguised horror. “Severus,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t do this now.”
Shaking his head feverishly, he stood and addressed her anyway, to the discomfort of all in attendance: “Please believe me, Lily, that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. Surely as soon as I met you, I recognized you to be the companion of my future life. I can think of nothing else that would add to my happiness so, and surely don’t want to imagine someone of your grace and beauty settling for any man other than I; for I worship and love you more dearly than anything.” He took a deep breath. “Do not debase yourself for the riches of this man, who could never love you so faithfully as I. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, which I hope only adds to your belief in the violence of my affections. I could not care for any other woman so much as you, but please interrupt me before I am run away with my feelings.”
Lily just stared back at him, mouth forming words she was unable to push past her lips. The silence in Longbourn was nearly deafening, and yet Snape’s attention never left her for a moment. It was a long time before she was able to speak. The room watched with bated breath.
“I—” Lily broke off, running a hand through her hair. Her eyes frantically scoured the room for help, but there was none to offer. This was her decision alone. “I do not know what to say.”
Snape took her hands in his clasp and stared deeply into her eyes. “Lily, just imagine it,” he whispered. “I would care for you and you would care for me, and no one else in the world would matter. It would just be us. Always.” Lily’s face had gone deathly pale. She had the dazed expression of one whose mind was running too fast to keep up with.
“Severus,” she said faintly. “You truly do not care I have no means? That I have nothing to provide you?”
Snape shook his head firmly, still clutching her hands. Lily began to nod slowly, expression still astonished. “Then I suppose it only makes sense to—”
It was at this moment that Mr. Potter chose to stand, knocking his chair over backwards in his haste but not seeming to notice in the least. His cheeks were burning with passion, and he had eyes for no one in the room but the woman in question.
“Lily!” he exclaimed, and she glared back at him with equal parts shame and defiance.
“What? What about this could possibly have to do with you?” she spit out, and Mr. Potter recoiled slightly, wounded.
“Lily,” he said again. “Listen to me. If this is what you truly want, I wish you all the happiness in the world. But—”
“Do not condescend as if you know what is best for me, Mr. Potter!” she nearly shouted, and Remus could see furious tears begin to glitter in her eyes. Lily had always said she wasn’t angry at Mr. Potter for leaving, but Remus knew it was a lie. All the emotions of the night and the past months were bubbling forth, and Snape was caught in the crossfire. Remus almost pitied him. Regardless of Lily’s feelings for the two men, the sting of rejection and the weight of expectation sat heavy on her shoulders.
“—But I do not believe you love him!” Mr. Potter cried. “If you can look me in the eye and promise me you love him, that he is the only one for you and you wish to spend the rest of your life with him, then I shall never again bother you! But if there is even a part of you that doubts, I beg of you, do not marry him!”
Lily’s colour was beginning to return, angry red patches splotching her cheeks. “That is of no concern to you.”
Snape took an uneasy step back. “Lily,” he said. “Do you not—?”
Lily shook her head wildly, cutting him off. “It doesn't matter! I cannot wait around forever! I have a duty to my family, to myself—”
“Lily, I—”
“Don’t,” she snapped at Snape, perhaps a bit unfairly. Snape fell silent at once, astonished. Remus supposed he had never seen this side of Lily before. Lily’s attention was still firmly fixed on James.
“Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they’ve got ambition, and they’ve got talent, as well as just beauty! I’m so sick of people saying that love is all a woman is fit for, but I’m so— There's nothing I can—” Lily broke out into tears then, unable to finish her sentence.
“I know that,” Mr. Potter responded, eyes round and sorrowful. “Of course I know that, Lily! I wasn’t implying—” He took a deep breath, starting over. “Listen. You once told me that what is safe should never take precedence over what is right. That I shouldn’t settle for a boring life just because it’s what I’m told I ought to do."
"It's not the same!" Lily cried out sharply. "Perhaps I do not have the luxury of choice!"
"I think the poets might disagree," Mr. Potter retorted hotly.
Liquid fury burned in Lily's eyes. Gooseflesh erupted over Remus's skin just at the sight. "Well, I'm not a poet," she replied, voice now icy enough to pierce the flesh. "I'm just a woman. And as a woman, there are sacrifices I need to make for my family. Did I ever have any power? Did I ever have a choice? Have I been deluding myself all along?" She sighed then, all the fight gone out of her. "I don't know," she said at last. "But do not pretend that either of you could possibly understand what it's like to be me, to live as I do."
Mr. Potter took a measured breath. "You are right, Lily," he replied evenly. "I do not know what it is to be you. But I do know— Sacrifice. Please believe me, I do. And if this—” Here he gestured at Snape, somewhat rudely, “is what will make you happy, then I support you wholly. But I’d never want you to live your whole life wondering what could’ve been.”
Snape, ashen-faced, rose to his feet as well, wiping his napkin nervously around his mouth. “Lily,” he began dangerously, glaring daggers at Mr. Potter across the table, “Do you accept me?”
Lily glanced between the two men, unable to favour one over the other. “I…” She cut her gaze to the ground at once. This was as much an answer as any to Snape.
“Would you have accepted him, if he’d asked first?”
If possible, the room froze over even more once these words were out in the open. Remus wondered briefly if there was any way to excuse himself at this juncture without drawing attention.
“I…” Lily tried again. Her face split in remorse. “Oh, Severus, I would’ve accepted anyone who’d asked.”
“You do not love me,” Snape commented listlessly, not accusatory or heartbroken or furious. He merely stated the words as fact.
Lily, expression tight, silently shook her head.
Snape’s typical gloomy frown curled into one of disgust. “But I love you, Lily, and he doesn’t. A man like that…” He shot a fierce look at his opponent. “The only person he truly loves is himself. He would ruin your happiness without a second thought, can’t you see that? I’d always put your needs above mine, isn’t that enough?”
"That isn’t a marriage,” Lily whispered, “That’s tyranny.”
Snape seemed genuinely taken aback by her words, opening and closing his mouth a few times without saying anything more. After just a beat too long, he excused himself from the table and stalked toward the door of the dining room. Just before he left for good, he tossed one more thing over his shoulder to Lily.
“I wish you would be selfish,” he told her. “Just this once.” And then he was gone, and Lily was collapsing back into her chair, utterly exhausted.
Mr. Potter moved to go to her side at once, but Mary stopped him with a harsh hand on his arm. “I think you should go,” she said sternly, directing him towards the door. Hurt flashed across Mr. Potter’s face at her words, but one glance around the table told him that her sentiments were matched unanimously with everyone else as well. Mr. Potter merely bowed once more, graciously, and then took his leave as well.
The dining room was once again silent, save for Lily’s quiet weeping. Then, as one, all five of Lily’s beloved family members converged against her, pulling her into hugs and kisses and wordless comfort. No one knew what to do to help her. They merely held her as she cried.