Chapter 9
Lily fled the Great Hall, tears clogging her throat. James didn’t even try to call out to her.
She ran, furious with James, furious with Severus, and most of all livid with herself.
How much of an idiot did she have to be, to believe James had truly changed? How could she have trusted him? The second she turned her back, he became the same swaggering bully he’d always been. Stupid, stupid girl!
It hurt all the worse because she’d not only started to believe, she’d started to hope. For a future. For change. For love.
Idiot.
Tears obscuring her vision, Lily paid no heed which direction she was running—her only thought was to get away. Find somewhere she could hide until these ridiculous tears abated.
She saw a broom closet ahead and skidded inside, pulling the door shut behind her.
There was nothing to do but sink onto one of the upturned wooden buckets and have a good cry. After a while, Lily realized she wasn’t just crying over James… It was everything. The accumulated stress of the year. The whole castle on the brink of hostility all the time. The way she constantly had to watch her back, had to avoid certain corridors at certain times, had to always bring a friend to the loo. The violence of the fight she’d seen between James and Severus was just a visible symbol of the state of their world.
And the worst of it was—the very worst part—was that she couldn’t see how the future would be much better. For a moment, with James, she’d started to. But now the pretty picture he’d planted in her mind—of them, together, creating a family and a future—just crumbled.
At Christmas, no less! she thought, indignantly and somewhat irrelevantly. The one time of year that everybody was supposed to be extra kind to each other… all ruined because James couldn’t give up one fucking chance to have a go at Sev.
She still thought of him that way sometimes. Sev. No one else had called him that. Losing him as a friend had almost felt like losing Petunia all over again. He was the one thread that connected Hogwarts to her home, and when that thread had snapped, she’d been heartbroken. Not that she’d ever loved him, in that way. She’d known he wanted her romantically, and she suspected part of the reason he’d pulled away was because of her inability to return his feelings. But she’d loved him as a friend, and their bitter arguments over his choice of companions, his obsession with the Pureblood Slytherins, and his admiration for the Dark Arts had frayed their relationship until they tore irreparably.
She sighed, and conjured a mirror to survey her face. After several cooling charms against her hot cheeks, she was satisfied she looked enough like her usual self to return to the Great Hall. She no longer felt like being at the ball, but she wanted to at least bid Mary and Marlene goodnight. She rose and was about to exit the broom closet when voices stopped her.
“…you saw it?” one voice said excitedly.
“Of course I saw it, the whole bloody castle saw it,” another answered.
Lily’s pulse froze. She knew that voice. Mucliber. One of her least favorite Slytherins. He wouldn’t hesitate to make a game out of torturing her, if he found her alone in a broom closet. She held her breath.
“...never much liked Snape myself, but one has to admit, it was rather impressive.”
“How’d it start, again?”
“I told you, Snape punched him.”
“Yeah, but why?”
“Who knows? Who cares? Blood traitor like Potter had it coming, didn’t he?”
Oh gods. Snape had started it?? Lily reeled as she tried to piece together everything she’d seen. Snape had looked so angry, she’d assumed it was something James had done or said, but what if… what if… Sweet Merlin, what if Snape had seen them together and still had feelings for her? It was the only explanation she could think of, if he really had attacked James. But it made a certain amount of sense. She was positive James had been just as happy as she was when she’d left him, if not more so. It was hard to believe he’d have been in the mood to start a row.
But Snape… If he did still fancy her after two years, seeing her with James—the one person he hated more than anybody in the world—must have felt the final injustice.
Suddenly she remembered all the times she’d felt Sev’s eyes on her the past two years, only to look up as he glanced sharply away. All the times she suspected he’d been casting counter-jinxes to protect her from his housemates. And their conversation from several years back… The odd look in his eyes as he’d said, “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are...” Like he was testing her, trying to find out, without asking outright, what she thought of James.
Even though she’d long since hardened her heart against Severus, Lily felt a twinge of pity for him, for what he must have felt tonight, if he did indeed have feelings for her. She knew he’d always felt like an outsider looking in, with his half-blood status, his ragged robes and secondhand books, his awkward demeanor. It was what made the power of the Dark Arts so attractive to him. If he were dangerous enough, nobody would dare laugh at him. And James stood for everything Snape wasn’t: Pureblood, rich, handsome, and well-liked. She cringed a little, thinking of what Snape would have seen. Their intimate dancing. The heat in the way they had looked at each other. Maybe even the way they’d embraced in the gardens—they obviously hadn’t found as private a spot as she’d thought, having been discovered. Though she wouldn’t have changed a thing about the night even if she had known about Snape’s feelings, she could understand his hurt.
The voices of the Slytherins faded around the corner, and Lily quietly opened the broom closet to sneak back up to the Great Hall. But the moment she stepped out of the closet, her skirt snagged on a pile of badly stacked broomsticks, and they fell with a clatter she was certain could be heard down the hall.
Lily didn’t stop to think. She ran…
…straight into another pack of Slytherins. She bit back a curse, realizing in her heedless journey from the great hall, she’d ended up quite near the dungeons… and the Slytherin common room.
“Well, well, well, what have we here,” one of them smirked.
“How dare you set foot in Slytherin territory?” another jeered loudly. “Mudbloods aren’t welcome here.”
“What’s all this?” a familiar voice called.
To her horror, Mulciber and Avery rounded the corner, clearly having heard the disturbance.
The blood drained from her face.
She was so, so royally fucked.
***
James didn’t hear a word of Dumbledore’s furious lecture.
All he could think about was the look of utter disgust on Lily’s face as she stood in the door to the Great Hall. And how badly it hurt. He scrunched down into the uncomfortable chair opposite Dumbledore’s desk, the collar of his dress robes poking his neck.
Two years ago, when Lily had berated him by the lake, he’d deserved it, and he’d thought that he couldn’t feel any lower. But this? This was so much worse. Incurring Lily’s disappointment and disgust when he hadn’t even done anything only betrayed how little she trusted him. She’d taken one look at the situation and assumed he was at fault, when he’d been bloody crucio’ed by the slimy git slouching in the chair next to him. Not that he was going to tell Dumbledore that bit—much as he hated Severus, the Marauder’s code of conduct strictly prohibited snitching, even when warranted.
If he was completely honest with himself, it was the fact that Lily had instantly taken Severus’ side over his that really rankled. Back when Lily and Snape had been friends it had made sense, but they’d barely spoken in the last two years. Whereas he’d spent the past two years being the best version of himself he could be, trying so damn hard to be the kind of man who was worthy of Lily Evans. With no expectation that she’d ever even notice. And the bit that hurt the worst was that he’d believed it was working. She’d started to seem like she was enjoying his company, like she trusted him… like she cared for him. He was a bloody fool.
Sirius’ words from the night before came back to him with the ring of a prophecy. Accepting anything less than love in return is only going to end up hurting you. James knew Lily had every reason to believe what she’d seen was his fault—years worth of reasons, in fact. But seeing how quickly she’d given up on him, feeling how easily she could crush his heart, made him realize he couldn’t be casual with Lily. It wasn’t enough to taste her kisses, or bring her to release—desperately as he wanted to feel that again. It wasn’t enough to flirt away the night, talking about a future he was now certain she had no intention of partaking in. It wasn’t enough to dance and laugh and tease. If she didn’t love him, it wasn’t fair to either of them to play games with the most serious decision of their lives.
“Potter!”
James startled, meeting Dumbledore’s piercing blue gaze.
“Sorry?”
“Since you clearly haven’t heard two words I’ve said, and since Mr. Snape here informs me that you were not to blame for this unfortunate incident, you may go.”
James jerked in surprise and turned to stare at Snape, gaping. Refusing to meet James’ eyes, Snape gave him the barest, subtlest nod. James snapped his mouth shut.
“Er, right… Thanks, Professor Dumbledore. And… thanks?” he muttered in Snape’s general direction.
Still reeling at the thought that Snape was capable of decency, James didn’t waste a second more before hurtling down the spiral staircase. One way or another he needed to talk to Lily.
Skidding into the corridor, he pulled out the Marauder’s map.
“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”
The map unfolded, but Lily wasn’t in the Gryffindor common room, or the Great Hall, or any of the girls’ toilets.
When at last he found her name, deep in the dungeons, surrounded by the very foulest Slytherins, James’ heart stopped cold.
He only hoped he could get to her in time.