ACT ONE, chapter eleven :
oh, who is she?
a misty memory
a haunting face

ϟ

All was well.

Mostly.

With the ashes of Quirrell's body near their feet and the Stone kept safe between their hands, the professors had found Lilium and Harry unconscious in the fire—lit chamber. She supposed there must have been many of them there, but all she remembered was Snape. She'd been barely conscious, her cheek pressed against thick black robes, head lolling back to see a hook—nosed face above her. And in his eyes... was a look like she'd never seen before: utter and terrible terror.

And more than that, she wasn't sure if he had ever carried her like that before.

It was stupid, suicidal really, but Lilium wondered how many other dangers she would put herself in just so he would carry her like that again.

In the days after, the Philosopher's Stone was destroyed, Hermione and Ronald (Ron, he insisted) were safe — if a bit worse for wear, and Harry was still recovering, like her, in the Hospital Wing.

The events in the dungeons between them and Professor Quirrell was supposed to be a complete secret, but the whole school knew anyway. Since then, Harry had received loads of gifts from admirers, and Lilium was shocked to find a few for herself. She'd assumed everyone would be too afraid of her to ever give a get—well—soon card.

She'd been wrong.

Once she got out of the Hospital Wing — two days too early by Madam Pomfrey's standards, she'd been levitated on a stretcher by her father to their private quarters. How humiliating. For those next two days, Snape had practically force—fed her potions and kept vigil in a chair by her bedside because, apparently, he couldn't trust her to 'stay out of trouble for more than five minutes at a time'.

When she first woke, he'd been furious, pacing and seething and growling under his breath, but she was rather used to his anger to be mostly unbothered by it. At least in this state. Lilium had nightmares, tremors, and she'd felt a dull sense of dread welling up in her chest ever since she'd woken up in the Hospital Wing. She felt small and feverish and pitiful. She hated that.

Once he was certain her mind would not turn to mush — and in between lectures about asinine Gryffindor bravery (or stupidity), Snape dispatched with most potions and had the house elves stuff her with all her favourite foods. And this sort of treatment... well, frankly, it unsettled her.

He did not dote. He did not baby. He usually trusted her to take care of herself. Most often, she found his parenting style more or less satisfactory: he provided her with necessities, very occasionally read to her, and generally treated her with courteous detachment. That is, until something absolutely horrible happened, and then he became an overbearing b—stard that wouldn't let her out of his sight. And if he was acting like this, something was very wrong.

Perhaps she'd underestimated how bad this all was.

As he hovered over her, pressing a damp flannel to her sweating forehead, she began to feel gravely, intensely concerned.

Lilium had whispered, half—asleep and shivering, "Am—Am I dying?"

"No, you ridiculous girl. You are not dying." There was no humour in Snape's eyes when he sternly said, "Close your eyes and rest."

"But I... I don't want to dream... not again..."

Something dark and almost imperceptible flashed across his expression before he conjured a vial before her eyes. "Dreamless Sleep, just for tonight."

Unlike before, Lilium took the vial without hesitation, and she instantly swallowed the warm sludgy stuff without a second thought. Then, throat thick, she muttered, "Thanks, Sev..."

"Mm."

And then she was asleep, but not before she thought she felt the dry brush of lips against her forehead. True to his word, she had no bad dreams. In fact, she had no dreams at all.

She'd been forced to tell the same story over and over, to Dumbledore and Hermione and Ron and whoever else determined they needed to know. But she hadn't talked over it all with Snape yet, not just them two.

Now, it was time.

Lilium sat across from her father in their flat, their knees bumping, hands fumbling in her lap, as he waited for her to speak.

He had her bundled up on the sofa, a swarm of blankets covering her, because apparently being unconscious also coincided with being cold. At all times in the past two days, Snape had insisted she be covered in a blanket or some sort. It was just as well, though, Lilium really was exhausted, limbs sluggish and deep bruises beneath her eyes. His expression was calm but intense, his black eyes leveled securely on her. For a long while, he waited for her to speak, 'til it became clear she wasn't going to say anything at all.

Snape was staring at her quite carefully, words stilted, "Are you — feeling — better?"

"Harry had it worse than me." Lilium's bony knee bounced while her head tilted, eyes darting round their flat, "I just... sort of..."

"Yes?"

"It's over now." She murmured, head ducked low, fringe falling over her face.

Snape squinted slightly, and she felt his fingers pinch at her chin to lift her gaze to meet his.

Her bottom lip trembled despite herself, and she was fighting hard to control her tears. She hated crying, especially crying in front of him, of all people. She had never been the sort, even when she was a child — hardly ever cried, at least not after... after he'd stepped up for her.

He knew that she wasn't in pain. In fact, she was healing as expected; so, that wasn't the problem. But he clearly knew what was.

Snape shifted closer 'til their knees pressed, "What did the Dark Lord say... to you?"

Lilium fiddled with her plaits — a nervous habit she'd had since four years old. "He said he'd been waiting for me a long time, and... and I think—,"

She squeezed her eyes shut, so tight it looked like it hurt.

His hand remained under her chin, voice impossibly deep, "In your own time..."

"He... He told Quirrell to kill Harry, but for a minute, I almost thought he was saying it to me."

Lilium expected horror, or perhaps disgust, but there was none of that. Her father was very quiet, staring off far past her, as if lost to a different time and place.

Suddenly the eleven year old gasped and her teary eyes went bright, "Did you suspect it was Quirrell? Was that why you were interrogating him during Yuletide?"

Snape blinked — once, twice, and then his brows furrowed low and suddenly the jars on the walls seemed to be shaking. Ah. Ah holy, bloody shite. Lilium wished she could cut out her own tongue. Or maybe reverse time and take it back. Where was a good Time—Turner when you needed one?

"What was that?"

"Oh. Well. Nothing... Really..." She bit her thumbnail, "I'm just glad it was Quirrell and not..."

Her father straightened, a sudden chill in the air, his eyes startlingly sharp on her face. "You did not think I was capable... of such vileness... Did you?"

"No." She said quickly before swallowing hard and muttering, "I mean, I dunno... Not really."

She wanted to say, I don't know what you're capable of.

Snape said nothing, and so did she.

Finally, she blurted, "What crimes did you commit?"

"What?" The word was pointed enough to wound her, but she didn't let it stop her.

"It's... That is, you brought me to Hogwarts for safety, to protect me from any punishment for your crimes."

"Did I?" He drawled in that low, monotone way of his.

Snape did that sometimes; asked questions back to avoid answering, to determine what the other person knew.

"Yes." Lilium refused to be cowed, forging ahead as bravely as she could, "What crimes did you commit, that I needed to be protected from, Sev?"

Her father must've seen it on her face, then, that she had her teeth in this and she wasn't about to give way 'til he told her at least something. His jaw clenched briefly, a brief flash of debate lining the contours of his face, mouth twisting as if he was tasting the words and found them disgusting.

"I... made very bad choices in my youth, before you were born. I aligned myself with a certain group of people and came to realise my mistake too late. By then, I had to..."

Another beat of debate, but this time it was one she couldn't understand exactly.

"—That is, you had come into my life, and I feared that you may face retribution due to your connection with me. I requested asylum with Professor Dumbledore to ensure your safety." Snape straightened himself back up, one brow arching slightly. "Those choices, I may tell you about one day, but for now... I would rather keep it to myself. If... that is acceptable. To you."

Shockingly, this was a question, a request for permission, as if she had a say in this too. And she believed him. If she demanded to know now, he would tell her — at least some of it (likely not all of it). He did not lie to her. He obfuscated, he kept secrets, he withheld information. But he did not lie.

Lilium wanted to know more immediately, of course she did. But the look in his eyes, the hints of discomfort and... fear (?) she could see in his eyes, that he was letting her see, it made her hesitate. She could wait, she supposed, just for a little while. Things had been so fraught and tense between them this past year, she had no desire to muck up whatever impasse they were currently crossing.

Slowly, the girl began to nod her head and bit hard into her bottom lip. "Can... Can you just promise that we're safe?"

Snape's brow wrinkled slightly, and she was shocked by the display — that he had let his Occlumency shields down enough for her to witness his hesitancy. Instead of speaking immediately, however, he reached forward and gently tugged her lip from between her teeth, before she could break skin. Lilium rolled her eyes at the familiar motion but didn't resist.

"As of now, we are safe, yes."

Lilium didn't miss the wording of that. She was both brilliant and brave, and so she was smart enough to know she had to demand an answer, "Just for right now?"

Snape gave her a wry sort of look, perhaps even a slight upturn of his lips, "Clever girl. But... yes, for now, we are safe. I cannot speak for the future, as it is always changing." With a small shudder, she sunk down further into the blankets, burying half her face into the soft fabric, sealing her eyes shut. There was a frown in his tone when he lowly murmured, "Look at me."

She did.

"I will not — let anyone — harm you, Lilium. No matter what happens in the future, not again. Am I understood?"

"...Okay."

"Yes?"

"Yes. Understood." Lilium nodded slightly, waiting a few more moments before adding, "He, the—the Dark Lord, he mentioned my mum, too."

"Did he?"

Snape leaned forward just enough to catch her attention, and he knew that this was something she hadn't shared with Dumbledore or the others. It was meant for just them, and Harry Potter.

"Sev, is it my fault she's gone?"

"No." Snape's hand found her back to her neck, firm and unrelenting. "Never believe that. Your mother... She was a very troubled woman. And the fact that she is gone from your life, the blame lies far more with me than with anyone else — even her."

Their foreheads were nearly pressing with how close they were. Her eyes darted between his, studying how his hair framed his face, how his thin lips were pressed in a tight line. She didn't know what he meant by that, exactly, but... she had some suspicions.

"When..." Her throat was too tight, her lungs too small. "When the Dark Lord left Quirrell's body, and I fell unconscious, I... remembered something. Is she why you brought me to Hogwarts?"

Snape's expression did not change at all. His shields were back up and she understood this was one of those times that he would simply refuse to tell her anything at all. There was nothing for it. Defeated but resigned, she sighed and shrunk back into the blankets.

"I do miss her."

Her father stared at her, tone unrevealing but eyes complicated, "You never knew her."

"I know, but... I dunno. I miss the idea of her, sometimes. Mostly when I'm angry with you."

"Nearly always, then?"

Lilium rolled her eyes, reaching out to whack the back of her hand with his thigh. He caught her wrist, shot her a mock warning look, and tucked it back into her blankets. Snape settled further into his overly stuffed armchair, crossing one leg over the other, resting his hands in his lap with a contemplative expression. He wouldn't speak again 'til she was ready.

"In the chamber with Quirrell and the Dark Lord, you did... well, Lilium."

It was a compliment, and yet it made her tense visibly, venom slithering up inside her.

You can take a girl out of Slytherin, but you can't take the Slytherin out of the girl.

"Oh. So, not still ashamed of me, then?"

The girl had meant to sound sardonic, biting and cruel, but all it came out as was nervous and small. She felt her age. Eleven suddenly seemed very young. D—mn it all.

Something angrily complicated snapped across her father's expression, "I am not and have never been ashamed of you."

"Liar."

His hands turned to fists. Her eyes narrowed.

"I am not."

"You've got to be ashamed of me, Sev, I know it. Else why did you push me away?" She demanded, "Why did you lock the door? Why didn't you wanna see me?"

Snape heavily sighed as if in defeat (shocking), fisted hands loosening to fold between his knees, "I thought I was providing you with... space. I see now I was incorrect in doing so. I will not be making the same mistake again. You belong here, with me."

Softly, as if giving him a reminder — one last hurtful dig, she challenged, "Well, I'm not a Slytherin. How can I belong here if I'm not in your House, Professor Snape?"

"Ah, you forget, Miss Snape — I am also head of this house," her father told her dryly, something dangerous and wildly protective in his eyes.

Something warm and bright flooded the center of Lilium's chest.

The eleven year old suddenly wanted to cling to him, hide herself against him, beg to hold and be held, but... she restrained herself. It had been a year since she felt so close to him, and even then, such things were not normal between them. It just wasn't something they did. They weren't a family, Sev and Lilium, at least she didn't think so. How could they be a family, when it was only the two of them? It didn't... fit. The Weasley's were a family, of course. Hermione was a family with her parents, sure. And Harry... well. Maybe he was like her. Always so very close to having a family, just never quite making it.

But... she wanted. She wanted to feel like a family so badly, and she was tired of fighting, and resisting, and all of it.

"So." Snape's dark head was cocked, expression fairly curdling with disgust. "Potter and his band of little Gryffindor miscreants."

"I'm one of those little Gryffindor miscreants, you know."

"Oh, I'm well aware. Friends with them now... are you?"

Lilium was still standoffish, still resistant to any peace—making he might attempt. So she winced overly sympathetically, in a way she knew would annoy him, and she replied with a deep sigh, "I think I might be. They're even calling me 'Lili' now."

His eye actually twitched. She was thrilled by this reaction.

"I like it."

"I do not." His coal—like eyes burned on hers, "Your name is Lilium; a perfectly acceptable name."

"I'm not changing it," she lifted her chin defiantly, "My friends gave it to me."

"Fine." He huffed to himself, somehow restraining a rebuke, but there was a near imperceptible roll of his eyes.

And Sev looked like a parent — her parent — again.

So, Lilium surrendered. Her resistance finally gave way with a soft exhale. She felt safe here in these dungeons, in their chambers decorated in dark woods and soft greens, where her bedroom was only a few feet away and her father's private lab was in view, with the familiar crackle of a small fire in the hearth. He had her buried in blankets she remembered from childhood, and he'd made her a cuppa with milk and five sugars — just as she liked, no matter how many times he insisted it was much too sweet.

She'd wounded him with her mistrust, but, astoundingly, he didn't hold it against her. He answered her questions, most of them at any rate, and she hoped when the time came, he would tell her everything she needed to know. He said that she'd done well, and that he was not ashamed. More than that, he'd admitted he was wrong (which he did with no one else), and he told her she belonged here, with him.

However resistant she'd been — Gryffindor or not, Lilium thought Sev would take her back even now, and she could let him if she wished to, and perhaps it wasn't too late for them to have it — a family.

ϟ

Lilium was waiting.

Waiting to ask her questions, waiting to hear news, waiting for Dumbledore outside the Hospital Wing's door, and nervously biting on her thumbnail.

Finally the heavy double doors pushed open and she hopped back to avoid getting trampled on. Being so small was a bit dangerous, actually. The Headmaster was happily walking out in his familiar glittery robes but then abruptly stopped when he found the dark, little child standing just in front of him.

"Oh, Lilium!"

Lilium Snape might be the only person who could take Albus Dumbledore by surprise, nearly startling the old Headmaster. She peered up at him with those huge eyes, seeming nearly black in the morning light. She fidgeted foot to foot and wrung her small hands in front of herself, glancing round his shoulder like she could see through the closed doors.

Quietly, she muttered, "Will Harry be all right, sir?"

"Yes, yes, of course. If you would like, you may go in and see for yourself—,"

"No." Lilium said fiercely, tone softening when she added, "That is, thank you..."

The Headmaster gave her a calming smile, hands clasped in front of himself, "It seems you two are getting along quite well now,"

It sounded like he wanted them to be friends. Even needed them to be friends. It was... strange.

"I dunno." She murmured, kicking the doorway with the toe of her boot, "He's different than I'd thought. I mean, at first, I think I was... jealous of him."

"Is that so?"

She nodded almost shyly.

Curious and non—judgemental, Dumbledore questioned, "Of all the attention he receives?"

She sharply shook her head, blurting, "No. Definitely not that."

That would be the last thing Lilium Snape would want.

She supposed it might also have been raised within her. Ever since she could remember, Severus Snape had instilled in his daughter a natural dislike for Harry Potter and all that his name implied. But her father was wrong about some things, maybe a lot of things... Harry didn't like being famous; he'd much rather be liked for just being Harry, not the stupid Boy Who Lived.

But, the point was, she had been jealous of him for an entirely different reason.

Everyone knew the story of Lily Potter, the mother who sacrificed herself for her son, the woman whose love was so strong that it helped kill a god.

"His mum loved him quite a lot, didn't she?"

"Yes. Very much."

"Headmaster," she said after a minute, cocking her dark head. "Did you think my mum was somehow connected to the Philosopher's Stone?"

"I may have... suspected, yes."

"Is that why you told me to investigate her?"

Huh, Lilium suddenly realised; there was something very, very... shifty about Albus Dumbledore.

The Headmaster watched her complicated expression as it festered on her young face. Then, finally, "Would you do me the honour of meeting me in my office later, Lilium? I believe I may be able to assist in your... investigation."

Her eyes were as huge as saucer plates, and she had to blink a few times before she sputtered, "Yes sir, please sir."

Dumbledore gave her a warm smile, offered her a lemon sherbert, and then began to stride away. He was halfway down the corridor before he turned back with a thoughtful expression.

"Oh, and, Lilium?"

She raised a brow, "Sir?"

"Far be it from me to recommend you keep secrets from your father... however—,"

"I understand, sir..." She interrupted quickly, a knowing glint to her black eyes. "And thanks very much."

She was thrilled at the chance to finally, finally get some answers, heart leaping up into her mouth, but... there was also something about the Headmaster's phrasing, his hesitation to tell her father, that made her stomach hurt.

Lilium hoped she wasn't making a mistake.

ϟ

The quartet was reunited.

As Lilium chatted with Hermione and Ron, she could hear the good cheer of their fellow students and professors feasting beyond the doors of the great Hall. Finally, the one they were waiting for arrived. As Harry limped into the Entrance Hall — still a bit battered and scratched, the remaining trio turned to study him in return. Nothing could be said for a moment. All of them beyond words.

Then Harry nodded to his first friend's bruises, "All right there, Ron?"

"All right." The redheaded boy confirmed, "You?"

Harry shrugged a bit, "All right. And Hermione?"

"Never better," the girl wore a brilliant smile.

And finally, Harry looked at her, "Lili?"

Lili would be lying if she said it didn't make her blush a little — like an ejit. She shrugged slyly, a small smirk on her lips, "I'll live."

As they walked to the Great Hall, together once more, Harry said, "It was good you were with me to face Quirrell, Lili."

"Yea." She smiled very slightly. "It was good you were with me, too."

"You know," Harry murmured, quietly so only they could hear, "When—When he asked us to give him the Stone in exchange for.. you know.... well, I was a bit worried you might have said yes."

It took a moment, but she whispered in agreement: "I was, too."

As they gamely took their seats at the Gryffindor table, Ron told her, "So... Lilium S. Snape. Now that we're officially friends, maybe you could tell me—,"

"That it's none of your business?" She replied primly, so sickly sweetly. "All right, if you insist, Ronald: it's none of your business."

Ronald (Ron) huffed so strong that it blew his red fringe from his forehead.

She let herself smirk a bit.

Then, just to Harry, Lilium found the courage to quietly confess, "I like the nickname — you know, 'Lili'."

"I'm glad." Harry smiled warmly, if a bit shyly too, "My mum... she was named Lily, you know."

"Really?" The girl knew this, of course she did, but for the first time, she thought of Snape's flinch, the way he recoiled at the sound of the nickname, and the redheaded girl in the yearbook picture that stood beside her father with a smile on her face. "How... interesting."

ϟ

Gryffindor won the House Cup.

It felt a bit like cheating. A lot like cheating actually. The Slytherins were absolutely furious, and her father looked irritated enough to strangle the Headmaster. Fair enough, really. But she was proud of her friends though, and she was proud of Neville especially — for standing up and being brave, even if it was to them.

She made sure to apologise and then congratulate him, just the same.

With the finish of exams, the House Cup announcement, and the Headmaster's parting words, the Hogwarts Express was all set to leave. Lilium's friends had their trunks packed, moved out of Gryffindor, and were ready to go. She'd be staying at Hogwarts for a few more days, waiting while her father finished up any grading and closing up the classroom for the summer holiday. It would be like old times; wandering round the grounds, working in the potions lab, hiding away in her favourite parts of the castle. For another week, it would just be Lilium alone.

It was... sadder than she expected.

So, she decided to walk her friends to Hogsmeade Station to see them off.

As they walked through the hall towards the arch, Ron, of course, was eating. Shoving a licorice wand (that he stole from Lilium) into his mouth, he wondered, "D'you think Dumbledore meant for it all to happen? And for you to do it, Harry? Sending you your father's cloak and all? Having Lili go on a hunt for her mum?"

"Well, if he did, I mean, that's terrible. You and Lili could have been killed." Hermione stopped, blinked, and blurted, "Come to think of it, we all could've been killed."

Harry sighed slightly. "I think Dumbledore knows pretty much everything that goes on here." He shot Lilium a thoughtful expression, "The only thing I don't understand is Snape."

"Professor Snape, Potter."

The entire quartet jumped, turning to find Professor McGonagall standing there with her usual raised eyebrow and a tight (but not unpleasant) smile.

"Yea, of course." Harry began cautiously, squinting up at their Transfiguration professor, "I was only wondering... Is it true? Did Professor Snape hate my father?"

"They were not compatible personalities, if that's what you mean, Potter." McGonagall conceded carefully, eyeing Lilium and Harry as they stared up at her. "And then, of course, James did something Severus could never forgive."

Lilium arched a brow of her own, "What was that, Professor?"

"He believed James Potter stole what was most precious to him, but... the Headmaster says James also saved Professor Snape's life."

Astonished, Lilium and Harry glanced across the hall to where Snape stood — purposefully not looking at them, instead glowering at the other students making their way out.

McGonagall continued, "So I suppose he felt it his obligation to look after you this year."

"Of course!" Ron chirped sarcastically, "And now that he's squared things, he can hate Harry in peace, right, Professor?"

The redhead grunted when Lilium drove her elbow into his ribcage a bit too harshly.

"Hogwarts teachers do not hate their students, Mister Weasley." McGonagall's words turned pointed as she turned to walk away, "No matter how taxing they may be."

Lilium giggled, and Harry laughed too.

"I think she's warming up to me," Ron grinned while Hermione rolled her eyes. Then he leaned round the wild—haired girl to cheerily say, "Now that the Philosopher's Stone's gone, Lili, maybe your dreams will finally stop."

"Maybe..."

She wasn't convinced, and from the look Harry was giving her, he wasn't either.

"Well, if it doesn't, you'll write to tell us." Hermione took her hand and squeezed it 'til she looked over, "Won't you, Lili?"

She smiled gently, "I'll write either way."

Hermione's relieved smile was bright enough to blind somebody.

Suddenly someone stepped into their path.

Nearly white blond hair, black and green robes, and a pompous expression on his face; oh yes, it was none other than Draco bloody Malfoy. Lilium frowned while her friends (she could now think that without flinching) immediately tensed and reached for their wands in preparation for another fight.

Immediately, Ron raised his wand and snapped, "Sod off, Malfoy—,"

"It's all right," Lilium pushed down the redhead's wand before nodding at the blond boy, "Draco."

The Slytherin's pale face pinched in distaste when his eyes briefly trailed over her companions before darting back to her. Draco tilted his pale head to clearly indicate what he wanted. With a sigh, Lilium nodded at her friends and followed him. The pair stepped off to the side where he held himself purposefully tall and she pointedly crossed her arms over her chest. For a while, they just... stared at each other. Rather dramatically, she motioned a hand for him to just get it over with. Whatever 'it' was.

To begin, Draco sniffed rather haughtily, "Well."

"Can I help you?" Lilium's voice was as dry as sandpaper.

He shifted slightly, and only because she'd known him since forever did she know this meant he was incredibly uncomfortable. "I am..." He drew himself up higher, voice a bit steadier, "I am glad you're well, Lilium."

There were the Narcissa Malfoy manners she knew oh—so—well.

Merlin, but Auntie Cissa (who was her godmother) would've put them both to shame about their behaviour this year.

Studying him as carefully as she dared, she softly replied, "Me too, Dragon."

Draco's eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment while he hissed, "Shush! Don't call me that, not here!"

Lilium rolled her eyes, "Fine. I'm glad too, Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa, heir to manors and mansions and vaults and all that other shite."

Draco's expression shifted briefly, seeing that she was letting her guard down and practically tripping over himself to be close to her again. Immediately, he started gushing, "Yes, trust those insipid Gryffindors to drag you into such trouble. We miss you in Slytherin, you know. We all think it's a shame Potter almost got you killed—,"

"Draco Malfoy, if you're going to start bad—mouthing Harry Potter, I will leave," she informed (threatened).

"Fine then." He heaved a very put—upon sigh, seeming to debate with himself for a moment. Then, "It was... wrong — perhaps — to treat you so... harshly."

Shocking and satisfying; that was what this was. Lilium honestly hadn't expected an almost—apology from him at all, ever, and it made her feel good that he was trying at least. Still...

"I'm sure you'll do it again next year," she arched a brow.

"Maybe," he arched one back, "You'll do just the same."

"Probably," she conceded.

Together, Lilium and Draco smirked.

"I've missed you, you arsehole."

"Back at you, you twit."

All was well again. She had never considered him a friend, not really, simply because she believed herself above such things. Now that she knew truly what it was like, she thought maybe Draco had been her friend back when they were little and House rivalries got in the way. Maybe they could be friends again. She'd just have to wait and see, she supposed. With his parting words, she swiveled away and rejoined her friends who were watching with (understandably) concerned expressions. She fell into step with them, feeling their warmth on either side, a small content smirk on her lips.

At her turned back, Draco shouted, "I'll see you this summer?"

"Not if I can help it!" Lilium called back over her shoulder.

Despite her words, she was sure she would see him at least some point this summer. Snape was (mostly?) friends with the Malfoy's, or at least associated, and there were to be various times throughout this summer that she'd be brought to the manor so that Snape could talk to Lucius and Auntie Cissa. The last few years, she even used to spend two weeks a summer at Malfoy Manor.

Lilium could feel Draco's smile as she walked away. She felt Hermione loop their arms and she didn't pull away, and she even smiled a bit when Harry lightly bumped their shoulders.

At Hogsmeade Station, they said their goodbyes.

While Hagrid talked to Harry, Hermione hugged Lilium tightly, and Ron was strangely pink—cheeked when he did the same. She wondered if he had ever hugged a girl before, besides his mum and his sister. She doubted it. Then, again, this was her first time hugging a boy. It didn't freak her out as much as she thought it would. Lilium didn't hug Potter — Harry, that is, when he came back though. That would just be... she wasn't sure what that would be.

She actually blushed at the thought. Like an ejit.

Oh, and when Neville shyly waved, Lilium made sure to wave back.

As the train released a familiar high—pitched whistle, Hermione and Ron climbed aboard. With a photo album clutched to his chest, Harry sent Lilium a shy smile before glancing over her shoulder to the castle in the distance.

"Feels strange to be going home," Hermione said thoughtfully, "Doesn't it?"

"I'm not going home," Harry murmured, "Not really."

The train whistle blew once more, and the last of her friends got on with a final, cheerful wave. Lilium waved back with a small frown, a strange feeling bubbling up in her chest. She felt worried. Because she was thinking about Harry who was about to go back to a life he didn't want to talk about, to a family that he didn't like, to a house that he didn't consider home. She thought of Harry, who craved physical touch, who thought of everyone before himself.

Then just as her friends began to pull down the tracks, she burst into a sprint after the moving train.

"Wait! Harry, wait!"

She ran as fast she could, shouting and yelling like a madwoman, and The Boy Who Lived leaned out the door with a confused expression on his face.

"Lili?!"

"Harry!"

He stretched out a hand and she did too, fingers brushing before clasping. He tugged just as she hopped up, and she wrapped her arms tightly round his shoulders to hug him tight. If he was startled, if he even hesitated, she didn't notice. He immediately wrapped his arms round her sides and held her close.

There was an understanding, a closeness, something they couldn't put a name to, that was only formed because they nearly died together.

In his head, in a safe and quiet corner, Harry thought, 'This is a long way from the cupboard under the stairs.'

Lilium squeezed him tighter, whispering in his ear, "To last you 'til next year."

When she let go, Lilium swore she saw tears in Harry's green eyes.

Then, before the train could pass the platform, she hopped back off the step and landed on solid ground. Hagrid had rushed after her to make sure she didn't go falling under the wheels (and get rather gruesomely crunched — Snape would be so mad), so he caught her before she did just that. Then, with the half—giant's hand on her shoulder, Lilium waved 'til the Hogwarts Express disappeared into the Scottish wilderness.

ϟ

Lilium again found herself before the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

More than that, she found herself afraid, deeply sad that it was him telling her about her mother, and terrified of what he would say to her when the time finally came.

All Lilium had ever wanted was to know who her mother was.

Apart from the dreams and memories and snatches of information she'd gleaned from Quirrell, she knew next to nothing and to have someone finally tell her was exactly what she needed. But what if she was not the mother Lilium imagined from the skeleton of facts she'd gathered? It was supposed to be what she wanted, but it was not possible to enjoy as she had hoped, as if it were Hogwarts' most delicious feast frozen solid.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his massive elegant desk, and he seemed just as larger than life as he did during her first Inspection at four years old.

She knew this was against the rules.

For all of his courteous detachment, Snape had a load of rules. One being, avoid being alone during Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's Inspections. He never explained why (because he never explained shite), but this one was serious. She did not think Dumbledore was a threat nor was he dangerous to her so none of it made sense. And she couldn't very well tell him no when he requested, and especially not when he offered her information Snape would never provide.

Lilium hoped he wouldn't be ashamed of her for giving in.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Lilium."

She didn't want to waste time on niceties and thank you's for things she shouldn't even be doing. She used that Gryffindor courage to force herself to abruptly ask, "Who was my mother, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore gave her a wry smile, "Straight to the point as always. You can be very much like your father, Lilium."

She pressed her lips and let the silence between them linger. Get to the point, old man.

Finally, Dumbledore hummed to himself, reached into the folds of his robes, and then pulled out a folded bit of parchment. "I believe you were looking for this... were you not?"

Her black eyes went wide. Her boots scuffed against the marble floor when she stepped shakily to his desk to get a better look. In his hands was the bottom half of the yearbook page, a list of names torn from the moving picture of students facing the camera. Her small shaking fingers trailed over the list in awe. Somewhere amongst all those names was her very own mother's.

"How did you...?"

There was a deep exhale from Dumbledore before he said, "I have a rare habit of finding things that have gone missing."

"Because you're the reason they've gone missing?"

Her cheeks blushed a bit, realising how rude and impertinent that probably sounded. But the Headmaster took no offence. He simply shook his white head, looking almost fond before it all fell away. He studied her for a long and terrible time that reminded her sickly of the Inspections.

Then, finally, Dumbledore said:

"Your mother was a Death Eater, which means she was a follower of the one they called Lord Voldemort."

The clarity of the pronouncement stopped her in her tracks, but he wasn't finished yet:

"Lilium, your mother's name is Bellatrix."

annie speaks

ϟ

MERRY CHRISTMAS to those who celebrate!

and thus ends the sorcerer's stone!! whew! BIG, BIG REVEAL! i know a lot of you didn't think bellatrix would be her mum, but i pulled a lil sneaky on ya and that's exactly who it is! it is such bad news for our poor baby lili, as more and more is revealed about her relationship ship with bellatrix and all the plans the madwoman has for her. i'm so so excited.

see y'all on wednesday for the first chapter of chamber of secrets!!!! AHHH let me know your thoughts xx

funny thingamabob for you:

actual footage from this chapter :)